do no harm (but take no shit)

Claire Bishop stood quiet sentry, eyes firmly on the train.

She had never taken the Hogwarts Express. She had never rode through the Scottish country, flashing green landscape giving way to Hogsmeade village, which lay in the shadow of its legendary neighbor. She had no children or family boarding it, no stake or claim to those it needed to safely transport. But she would defend it.

Her eyes travelled across the crowd, skimming over children and parents, eyes pausing briefly on professors, stopping here and there to take in her Aurors. Aneta wasn't incompetent, as far as Claire was aware, but Grimmauld Place had been consumed in flames, and James Blood still roamed freely. She would not be so foolish as to assume her presence could not be of some help.

And so here she was. Squinting and clearing her throat to keep people moving on. It almost seemed pointless but if it provided a sense of peace, then she supposed it had some value.

Why was everyone getting on the other end of the train?  The crowd down there was horrendous.  Also, he hated them.   At a guess, there were at least half a dozen people in that group he'd earned the eternal enmity of, so it was only logical for him to steer clear.

Up this end, there was a lone auror.  He hated aurors.  Not only because they turned up at the most inconvenient times, but the made you feel guilty.  Like, he had a lot to be guilty about, true, but aurors made you feel guilty even when you hadn't done anything.  Recently. 

In fact - Clair glanced back down the platform - yeah, there were quite a few aurors out today.  What was that all about?  Surely nobody would be stupid enough... Nah, yeah they would.

Still whatever.  He walked past the auror, eyes firmly trained on the ground like he was just another apathetic school student.  Because that's what he was. 

"I'll catch up later. I need to find Cronis. Or Evander. No, Cronis. Ah, does it even matter?"

Molly would have normally just shrugged and headed in the opposite direction without a second look, but there was something pointed in the blonde's eyes that caught her attention, and the fact that she slipped off and moved lithely through the crowd, rather than flounced off as she was known to do, spoke volumes to the shift in the girl's personality. She had developed some sense of subtlety and forethought  - or maybe it had always been there and it was hubris that let Molly mistake herself as one of the few who hadn't underestimated Margo Richards.

She turned away finally and moved away from the crowd, thinking she could maybe find the Zabinis or Ace, as her first choice of sitting alone was certainly not going to happen .The crowd thinned out, and she saw less and less of the conspicuously straight-backed Aurors and sharp-eyed professors, until finally only a few figures remained. A familiar looking figure slumped ahead of her and she weighed her options. At least Sauvage wouldn't prattle on and on about his summer, or his hopes for the new year. She'd take a quiet bird in her hand.

"Clair," she said, not exactly calling to him, but raising her voice enough to catch his attention. She turned her chin and glanced at the blonde woman watching over them as she tried to catch up.

Clair turned. It was Molly. Molly Weasley, hurrying through a crowd of people, looking like she actually gave a shit about something. That was new.

He didn't sigh, because that was the kind of thing people who had hopes and dreams did, and Clair had given up those ages ago. But he breathed out heavily and waited for her. Getting on the train would have taken effort, so it was literally the least he could do.

"Again?" he asked as she got closer.

Molly cocked her head at his question, honestly unsure as to what he was on about. She wasn't sure it was a callback to the last time she had seen him - much of which had been permanently deleted from her memory - or another time she couldn't recall with the oppressive weight of all the strange and new memories made over the summer. She had always heard such experiences changed people, made them fools. She wondered if that stayed even after people left.

She lifted a shoulder into a shrug, angling for a door. "Figured you and me in a compartment doubles the probability that people won't join us."

Clair followed her unspoken logic.  Molly was right that they were neither of them popular.  Not like Margo or Christan or even Lottie Waldorf, lately.  Popularity is all fire and warmth, it shouts from the tower tops.  But they were quiet mysteries; ice cold.  The only times Clair had ever uttered his secrets, he gave away part of his soul along with them.

He was no fool, though.  There were people who would join them in the hope that some of their cool might rub off.  He knew who would have been foremost among them, once, and it sent his hips to burning.

"So I'm just a means to an end," he said.

And he followed her inside.  It's not as though he's ever objected to being a means to an end before.

Molly doubted that her apparent use of Clair bothered the younger boy any, or he wouldn't still be following her. She wasn't sure if he was moody but apathetic about it, or if he was just enjoying the sound of his own voice. A bit to herself, but not exactly inaudible, came the word, "end." It seemed to be the name of the game now, and she wasn't sure if her final year of Hogwarts was spurring on all these sudden ends or if something bigger was at play.

In truth, none of it probably mattered at all.

She blinked and turned back to Clair, "You're welcome to go find Levski and sit with him." She offered the smallest of smirks to indicate she was kidding and then pushed open the door to the first compartment she could find.

Clair shook his head as he preceded her into the compartment.

"He's probably sitting with Lottie, trying to keep her away from Christian," he said.

He hoisted his own luggage into the overhead rack and then extended a hand for Molly's.

"Is it just me or does it seem like those two got together by accident?" he asked when he was done.

It was her least favorite subject, which she was sure most people would find odd. Molly didn't keep much company, but the company she did keep included both parts of Hogwarts' most awkward couple of 2030.

She handed her luggage over, flopping into a seat and pushing her hair out of her face. "I'm sure the term 'happy accident' has been thrown around by both." And maybe she didn't do the best job at hiding her disagreement in her tone.

"Happy," Clair repeated sceptically.

"Which side are you on?  Charlotte or Christian?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Of course, there was always the possibility that Molly was on her own side.  In fact, that wasn't really a possibility, so much as a probability.  Clair couldn't figure out what the lovebirds could have done to make her so irritated about it all, though.

He dropped back into one of the carriage seats.

"Ace is like, practically your sister, huh?" he asked.