A Fight

Leylin absently stirred the contents of his cauldron after adding two mistletoe berries. His movements were fluid, practiced. 

It was only his second time ever making the Antidote for Common Poisons potion, but he did it with a practiced ease. 

There were two parts to it–a hard concoction to make for beginners–and it worried him how Tracy and Daphne were doing. They hadn't had the chance to brew this one the other day, too little on time.

Leylin hovered his wand over the cauldron and felt the pull on his magic as he waved it in easy motions. 

The contents turned from a jumbled sludge of browns and greens to a pure emerald color, emanating a soft glow. 

Like Snape had told the entire class, after he finished, he stood up and took a seat at one of the chairs laid out on the side of the room. He was the first to do so. 

As he waited, Leylin got a look at all of the students. Slytherin's and Gryffindor's, all in linear rows, neatly separated in their own little areas with scales, cauldrons and ingredients littered about them. 

His gaze found Snape, hands clasped behind his back as he strode around the room. The professor's eyes found his, and the man nodded, a faint smile upon his lips. 

Leylin didn't respond, just watched the lanky man, remembering the way he looked when he mentioned seeing Quirrel in the Forbidden Forest earlier in the day. It was his way of confirming if Snape knew anything. 

He had asked Tracy about how she saw the stuttering professor enter the forest all those months ago, making sure Snape was in ear shot when he did so. 

Snape's eyes had snapped and narrowed on him when he had asked, but shifted away almost just as fast. It had confirmed to Leylin that the dour professor knew something about Quirrel. About his nightly activities in the woodlands. 

But how to find out, he thought, as more and more kids finished their potion.

"Time is up." Snape said a few minutes later, as he stood at the front of the room.

Only one kid had yet to finish. Nevil Longbottom sat in a chair, shoulders slumped and face in his hands. 

"Disappointing." Was all Snape said to him. "But other than Longbottom here, the rest of you were…..adequate." 

His dark eyes roamed the seated children, locking onto the few who sat at the front. "3 of you managed to actually do well, even" He said. "Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, and Leylin Addams. 15 points to Slytherin for being the first to finish."

"But professor, I finished before Nott…." 

The bushy haired Gryffindor girl quieted when she saw Snape's expression, huffing as she sat back down in her seat. Leylin felt a pang of pity for her. She did finish before Theodore, but Snape's disdain at giving Gryffindor any points was well known–even if the kids deserved them. 

Snape continued to produce two vials from his cloak. "Mr. Nott and Mr. Malfoy," he started, "you managed to finish in a sufficient time frame, but," he locked eyes with the two boys, "the potion was a tad diluted. Be sure to add fewer herbs and make less rotations of the ladle next time." 

Draco looked miffed but nodded nonetheless. Theodore on the other hand wasn't even looking at the professor. His eyes were on Leylin, red-faced and veins protruding from his forehead, about ready to pop a blood vessel.

Snape then took out a third vial, a brighter emerald than the rest, and held it before him. "And Mr. Addams..…another 5 points for being the first to finish, as well as the only one to get the mixture exactly right. Impressive." He said, eyes lingering on the potion, face unreadable. "Impressive indeed." 

Leylin let himself bask in the praise for a minute. He had studied and practiced a lot, so it felt good to know it wasn't for nothing. 

Again–like most times–the only thing ruining it for him were the glares sent his way. From Draco, Theodore, even from that bushy haired witch–Hermione, he was pretty sure her name was.

The three stared at him in varying degrees of annoyance to hate. Leylin ignored them, looking to Daphne and Tracy instead.

The two girls had barely finished in time, both heaving a sigh of relief when Snape took their vials and gave them a curt nod.

They looked back at him. Tracy with a big smile and Daphne impassive as usual, though she did offer him a small nod of her head. 

Leylin offered them both a smile and nod of his own.

******

"Ahhhh." Tracy stretched as she took a bite from a piece of toast. "It feels great, doesn't it? No more tests, no more stress. Just good food."

She spoke with a mouth half full, picking up another piece of toast, layering it with peanut butter and jelly.

"So I take it that means you did well?" Leylin asked.

He knew she passed the practical, but the written test results weren't available until this morning.

She downed a glass of milk, slamming it on the table, smirking. 

"Sixty percent." She brushed her shoulder. "Not too shabby, if I say so myself." 

Daphne snorted. "You barely passed." 

"Oh yeah? And want was your score, Miss Queen of Potions?" 

Daphne side eyed Tracy with a smirk of her own. "Sixty-five percent."

Tracy's nostrils flared. "You arrogant little-" 

"I would ask how you did Leylin," Daphne interrupted, picking at the fried egg on her plate. "But I think we all know." 

Tracy grunted. "After seeing the sparkle in Snape's eyes when he held Leylin's potion, I wouldn't doubt if he got a two hundred percent on the written." 

"I would have if it was possible." Leylin grinned at the two girls' glares. 

"Though Theodore didn't seem all too happy." Daphne said, taking a sip of her orange juice. "You should be careful. His ego was clearly bruised, and a pure blood with hurt pride is dangerous." 

"You would know." Tracy chortled.

"I'm being serious, Tracy." Daphne snapped. "He may not be the next Merlin in magical abilities, but he can easily lash out and not suffer any consequences for it." 

"Lash out how?" Tracy said, voice quieter. 

Daphne shrugged. "Who knows. But I'm pretty sure his father makes donations to the school. They won't expel him, so in his mind he can do anything he wants." 

Leylin was silent, contemplating her words, remembering Theodore's expression the other day. 

"He wouldn't do anything serious." He said. "Not yet anyway. Not until after that little 'competition' he wants so badly to happen. He would be seen as weak if people thought he had used his influence to prevent it." 

Daphne nodded. "Maybe. Practically the whole school knows about it by now, so he can't exactly weasel out of it." 

"Then what happens after?" Tracy asked. 

Neither had an answer. 

The rest of the meal progressed in silence for Leylin. His mind drifting from one thing to the other. One future to the next. 

Shortly after breakfast, Leylin was in his dorm room, packing his things. The only sound was the crackling fire in the middle of the room as he loaded all his clothes–his dorm mates already packed and gone.

The suitcase wasn't of the expandable variety like Tracy's and Daphne's. Instead, he used a second hand one he had found for a relatively low price. 

Leylin packed all his stuff tightly inside the compartments, smiling as his fingers brushed over the staff Hank had given him. He was excited to use it when he got back.

Shortly after finishing, him and the other students that were leaving for break filed onto the train, the familiar scent of the steam engine hitting them. 

Leylin quickly made his way down the small corridor, finding an empty compartment. He sighed as he took a seat in the soft cushion, Tracy and Daphne opposite of him. 

"So, what are you guys doing for break?" Tracy asked, taking out her nail polish. 

"Studying." Daphne said, book in her hands.

"Runes?" Leylin asked, looking at the cover.

"My father loves them, and he wants me to take over the family business someday." 

"And you want that?" 

Daphne shrugged. "I like runes. And it's a better alternative than what my mother wants." 

She made a face as she mentioned her mum. The kind of face she made when she spoke about a particularly disgusting food.

"And what does she want…."

Leylin trailed off, seeing Tracy frantically shaking her head. 

It was too late. Daphne slammed the book shut in her lap. 

"To get married." She snarled. "It's always, 'you need to have proper etiquette' this and 'you need to know how to cook' that. It's infuriating! She never asks me what I want and just assumes that since I'm a pure blood, I'm going to go and marry some pompous jack ass and stay home all day cooking and cleaning." Her breathing was ragged as she continued. "But I don't want that! I don't know what I want, but not that. Maybe a healer, maybe a rune master–it doesn't matter. Anything other than what she wants me to be!" 

The blonde was red by the end, hands gripping the book on her lap so tightly her knuckles whitened. 

Leylin looked at Tracy, who made an 'I tried to tell you' face. He didn't know how to respond to the triade.

Eventually, he landed on an, "I'm sorry." 

Daphne snorted and picked her book back up. "So am I." 

The ride continued on in an awkward silence, Daphne reading, Tracy studying her nails, and Leylin staring out the window at the Irish highlands rolling by. 

As mountains and plains passed, Leylin thought of the city, of London, of home, of Hank. He was excited to see the grizzled old man, as well as the gym again. To finally be able to have a proper workout and sparring session. 

His time at Hogwarts could be fun, occasionally–when he was immersing himself in potions or when he sat at lunch with Tracy and Daphne and talked about trivial things.

But he missed the dance of combat, the aching of muscles as he lifted weights, and the feel of the padded ring below his feet.

Leylin's reminiscing was interrupted by the cabin door sliding open. Standing there was Theodore, lip upturned in a snarl. Flanking him were two second years Leylin didn't know. He'd seen the boys around Theodore at times in the halls, but never enough to bother checking into them. 

They loomed behind the shorter boy–a head taller than him–like two bodyguards from a gangster movie.

Leylin let out a deep breath. "What is it, Theodore?" 

"The potions test. You cheated, right?" 

Leylin closed his eyes, controlling his anger. "And how would I do that?" 

"I don't know!" He growled. "But you did! There's no way you completed the potion first and got a perfect brew." 

"So you think I cheated." Leylin said. "So what? Snape didn't think so, you have no proof. You're just babbling pointless things to me at this point." 

The boy turned crimson. "I want you to admit it." 

Leylin stood up and faced the boy, the same height as the second years. He could feel the nervous gazes of Tracy and Daphne on him.

He peered down at Theodore. "I didn't cheat. I'm just better than you." 

Leylin noted the way Theodore's fists were clenching and unclenching. He subtly shifted his stance, just in case the boy decided to swing. 

"I looked into you." Theodore said, voice barely above a whisper. "My father wouldn't help me, but I have other ways." 

He looked up, grey eyes locking with Leylin's blue. "You're an orphan. Not just a muggle, an orphan. Nobody wanted you." He threw his head back and laughed. A mocking sound. "Your father, your mother. They abandoned you. They didn't lo-" 

Theodore didn't get to finish his sentence. 

A fist–faster than he could register–flew out and struck.

Leylin grinned as he felt the satisfying crunch of cartilage and the warm blood on his hand. 

The scrawny boy crumpled to the floor, screaming and crying, holding his nose as his face was splattered in the red liquid. 

It all had happened so fast. One second, Leylin had his chin held high, a warm feeling in his chest as he told Theodore he was better. The next, the boy was on the ground, the place silent except for the sound of the train chugging in the background as it worked to drown out Theodore's cries.

He looked at his fist. Red, a blue hue already settling in. He gazed back up at the two second years. Their wide eyes drifted from Theodore, then up to Leylin, then back again. 

Everything stilled for a minute. Then they acted. Simultaneously, they reached for the wands tucked inside their pants and went to lift them. 

Gauging their actions, Leylin reacted before they had a chance. 

His leg shot out, kicking one in the gut and sending him flying backwards. While his friend stared in shock, Leylin took the opportunity and rushed him, sending a knee into the boy's groin. 

He crumpled and yelled a silent scream, eyes bulging, as he littered bile all over the floor. 

The one he had kicked was staggering to his feet, muttering curses. By this time, train doors were sliding open, curious eyes popping out. 

Before the second year could get up, Leylin bolted over and slammed a foot down on his calf, hearing a wicked pop. 

The boy opened his mouth to yell, but was met with another kick–this time to the side of the head, knocking him out cold. 

"You!" Theodore screeched from behind, tears streaming down his bloody face. "What have you….who do you…." 

Leylin turned on him, glaring. Theodore yelped and scrambled away down the narrow passage of the train and through the gathering students. 

"You'll pay for this!" He yelled as he ran, the words coming out in a broken sob.

Leylin was breathing hard as he watched the boy retreat. His eyes shifted to the two second years. One in a heaped mess, comatosed on the floor–the other on his knees, hands on his groin and forehead to the ground as he rocked back and forth, his hair in his own vomit as he cried.

Leylin looked around the hall filled with whispering students. His eyes caught Daphne's. She was watching him, blinking, a hand over her mouth. She looked scared. Turning to Tracy, he saw the same look. 

Fear.

What have I done, was Leylin's last thought before the train screeched to a halt, tracks grinding on steel.