The Founders

Chapter 16

For the next few days, Kyra sequestered herself within the upper level of the library, practising jinxes and curses. Since quidditch practice had started up again, Kyra often had her evenings to herself; Oscar, Grace and Kat were all kept busy by their respective teams. Kyra, who usually spent this time in the stands, freezing to death and complaining afterwards, instead dedicated her time to DADA practice.

She was sprawled out among a pile of cushions below the window, on a carpet sourced by Oscar. The sky outside was soil black and the window reflected the room, warping around the blurry reflections of candle light. Above Kyra's head floated candles which had lit themselves in the dusk.

As she lay on her front, flicking through jinxes entitled, among others, the reductor curse (to reduce objects and people to a pile of ash) and the bat-bogey hex (shockingly, to turn bogies into bats), Kyra wondered not for the first time why the class was entitled Defence Against the Dark Arts; surely what they were taught verged on a grey area that was a little dark?

Still, it would be amusing to use the bat-bogey hex on Alexander. "See how pretty your face is then," she murmured while turning a page.

"Ah, the first sign of madness," said a voice loudly. "Talking to yourself."
Kyra looked over her shoulder slowly, to where Alexander had pulled himself up from the ladder and was leaning a shoulder against the wall, arms crossed.

"I was wondering how long it would take before you tried to reclaim your library," she responded coolly, turning back to her book. He came over and seated himself near her, against the book-shelf wall perpendicular to the window, stretching out his long legs.

"That really wasn't an invitation," she said with a pointed look.

Ignoring this, he pulled the book out of her hand and snorted when he saw the page that she was on. "See, I think this is your issue," he made a quick gesture at the book. "You go for all these creative hexes," he elaborated, "instead of just using the most effective ones; stufey, expelliarmus, impedimenta, whatever."

Unwillingly, she waited for him to continue. He looked back up at her, messy hair falling over his forehead. "Don't get me wrong, the way you duel is actually pretty cool. I've never seen someone fight the way you do- it catches people off guard."

"Apparently not," Kyra grumbled. She pushed herself back so that her back was straight against the bookshelf opposite Alexander, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Alexander smiled slightly, settling back against the wall. The candles had lit above them, the light causing his eyelashes to throw dark shadows over his cheekbones. His shirt was unbuttoned slightly at his throat and the candlelight made his tanned skin seem even warmer. She looked at the dark windows as he continued. The candles floating above them were reflected in little firefly blurs of light in the warped glass and in the window was a miniature version of them, another girl sitting opposite a boy, his legs stretched out.

"I just think that you should use both types of duelling: the practical and creative."

Kyra nodded instinctively, zoned out, and then stopped herself, looking at him suspiciously. "Why are you helping me? You do realise it's you that I'm trying to beat?"

"Obviously," he said, as though she were thick. He shrugged. "You clearly love DADA; why shouldn't I help you?"

"And you don't? Love DADA, I mean?" she asked, picking up on his inflection.

He crossed one leg over the other, and fiddled with an invisible loose thread. "Not like you do."

She considered for a moment. "You've spent a lot of time on it, then, for someone who doesn't love it."

He looked surprised for a moment before his features smoothed over again. "I guess."

"So, what do you love then?" she probed. She winced. "Or, like- enjoy."

He made an impatient sound, but stopped when he saw her genuinely waiting for an answer. He shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. Charms."

She nodded thoughtfully. "You create those illusions, don't you? They're cool." His eyes were watchful as she carried on. "And you like quidditch, too, right? You go down to the pitch a lot when no one else is there." Her cheeks reddened slightly, but she kept her gaze open and curious.

His mouth curled into an unwilling smile. "Stalking me, Chen?"

Her face heated further. "Don't call me that," she replied thoughtlessly.
"Why? It's your name, isn't it?"

"No. It's not." She cleared her throat. "It's- my mother's maiden name was Havard," she said uncertainly.

He stared at her. "Havard?" he asked, and his eyes flickered to the charm on her necklace, settled in the hollow of her neck. "That's an old Hufflepuff name, isn't it?"

"You changed the subject, though," she said as he watched her carefully. "And I have a question."

He said nothing, which she took as her cue to continue. She looked down at her hands, arms looped around her knees, and flexed one, running the thumb of the other hand down one of the creases in her palm. "So, you love charms, and you love quidditch. But you spend most of your time doing DADA, and you've never joined a quidditch team."

She looked up, dropping her hand and held his stare. "Your personality isn't totally repulsive," she said with a gesture at him. "And yet, as far as I can see, you have no friends. You also seem to have no past before Hogwarts; so, what did you do before here? Why so many contradictions between what you enjoy and what you do?"

He stood up abruptly, his eyes and stance hardening. It was like watching lacquer solidify over a box, becoming hard and impenetrable. "Don't comment on my life as if you had a clue." He strode over to the ladder, pulling open the trapdoor. "And stay out of my business. You'll only get hurt."

She stared after him, stunned. That was the second time he had stormed out on her. Apparently, he had a penchant for drama. She reached her arms to gather her hair up into a ponytail, and abruptly dropped them, frustrated. She gathered her belongings, leaving cushions and books strewn messily across the floor, and slowly made her way back to her room.