Slight of Hand

Slight of Hand

By the time they got to King's Cross railway station, Riana and Fabian were on the best of terms again, talking and laughing as though they had never had a fight. Yet each of them knew what the other was capable of, and they watched each other a little more carefully than they had before. But only on a purely subconscious level because, you see, children are so forgiving (or forgetful) that the bitterest feuds go unremembered, unremarkable, in the light of friendship. And so it was with Riana and Fabian as they, arm-in-arm, surged into the train station in a sea of commuters.

"Hurry, children," Favel said curtly as she clicked speedily along in her emerald green stilettos. "We're a little late, so I don't want ya to wander off. There'll be plenty of that for later when ya are at Hogwarts." Riana looked up at Fabian's mother and nodded in comprehension, although Favel was busily fighting her way through the crowd and didn't notice Riana's confirmatory nod at all.

Riana loved to watch Favel, even if Fabian's volatile mum did scare her at times...well, most of the time, actually. Favel was everything that Leanne was not. Leanne was quiet and withdrawn; Favel spoke her opinion and brazened her way through life. Leanne wore quiet pastels; Favel was exquisitely fashionable, dressed in a knee-length, fitted, black pencil skirt and emerald green poet's blouse. Her lips were painted bright red, and her eyelids were feathered in smoke. She really was a beautiful woman, and Riana in her childish way knew that when she grew up, she wanted to look exactly like Fabian's mum. It was a pity, really, that she couldn't. For Favel was thin, and Riana was not. But even this grim realization could not dampen Riana's spirits on this thrilling day. They were here. They were getting on a train in less than five minutes and leaving London, leaving the last remnants of her old life behind.

Mr. Urquhart had been unable to come with the family because as the magical community of Great Britain's ambassador to France's magical community, he was constantly in and out of the country, and just this morning, he had been called to an urgent meeting in Paris. Too bad, too, thought Riana vaguely as Fabian pulled her through the crowd, I wish he was here.

Mr. Urquhart...unlike his beautiful wife, Favel...did not tell Riana to call him 'Andometus,' which was infinitely preferable to Riana. For one thing, 'Andometus' was an awfully hard name to pronounce. For another, this virtual "not knowing" allowed Riana the privacy she so desperately desired.

Theirs was a very impartial, distant relationship. Mr. Urquhart never referred to Riana by her first name; instead, whenever Riana would take her meals with the Urquhart family (and it wasn't often, for she usually found an excuse to avoid meals), Mr. Urquhart would address her as 'Ms. Carrington'. For instance, the night before, at their last meal together, Mr. Urquhart had picked up his glass of wine, drained it, then looked directly at Riana and asked,

"Ms. Carrington. What are your plans upon leaving Hogwarts?"

And Riana, to her chagrin, could only reply, "I don't know."

As previously evidenced, Riana thought of herself as a mini-adult, and this question (to which she did not know the answer) disconcerted her. Angrily, she had clenched her folded, yellow hands tightly in her lap so that the knucklebones stood out. I sound like an idiot! she had thought as furious tears flooded her narrow eyes. Fabian had noticed her perturbation and banged her foot gently under the table, his yellow eyes concerned. But Mr. Urquhart merely "harrumphed!" loudly behind his grey beard and returned to his steak au poivre. His manner, cool and removed, thus endeared him to the "adult" in Riana, although her child's subconscious cringed at the emotionless dismissal of her reply, and indeed, her very existence as a person.

But consciously, Riana liked Fabian's father and missed the quiet confidence of him as she was pressed upon by all kinds of people in the train station. Luckily, they hadn't had to lug their own trunks and cases since Henry was taking care of the luggage. How does he, though? Riana wondered, for Henry the house-elf was awfully small. But Fabian didn't seem to notice or care, so Riana put all thoughts of the unfortunate Henry from her mind.

*

Within three minutes, Favel, Fabian, and Riana had fought their way through the herd of people...casually dressed tourists and business people, both...and stood in front of the wall between platforms nine and ten. Riana instinctively pulled Fabian to one side. "Which one are we on?" she asked.

Fabian chuckled and pointed straight in front of them at the wall. "This one," he replied, the lilt in his voice dancing perilously close to a pronounced brogue as his excitement grew.

"That one?" Riana looked in confusion up at Favel, who nodded absently and drew a heavy, monogrammed pocket watch from her ... Now, where did she pull that watch from? Riana blinked once and the watch was gone, but Favel merely raised a plucked eyebrow and reached out a manicured hand to each child.

"Let's go, children. I have things I'll be needin' to do when ya are through, aye?" And with that, Favel walked forward, Fabian and Riana trotting on either side in order to keep up with Favel's small but efficient strides. As they neared the wall, Favel squared her shoulders and quickened her pace.

Wait, thought Riana, panicking slightly as she felt herself being propelled forward by Favel's brisk, clicking steps, this isn't right. We're going to crash!

The threesome was nearing the wall; closer and closer. One meter, half of a meter, and faster and faster. They were now jogging, all three, and bumping into people left and right who either snapped, "Hey!" in annoyance, or simply ducked their heads and pushed doggedly back.

Clickity-click! cracked Favel's heels on the concrete below, sounding for all the world like machine gun fire as she broke into a half-run. Fabian and Riana copied her motions, their school robes swishing around their ankles, and Alvean dug her tiny claws into Riana's arm as she found herself being jounced up and down, up and down. And faster and faster! Riana shut her eyes in terror and shock as the brick barrier between the ninth and tenth platforms loomed closer. Less than half of a meter! One-quarter of a meter! Linked arms pressed together, Riana felt Fabian's arm muscles bunch in excitement or fear, or both as they...sprinting now...hit the wall. Except ... they didn't hit the wall. Riana's eyes were tight shut, she could feel the muscles in her face straining as she pressed her eyelids together, but she never felt herself hit anything solid. When would they hit? Now? Now?

But no... it was like running through a vat of congealed pudding; no feeling, no sound, nothing, for at least thirty seconds. And Riana began to feel constricted, claustrophobic; she opened her mouth, but no sound came out; she grasped for Fabian...he was still there. And just when she thought she would suffocate, a blast of hot, diesel air hit her smack! in the face, and Riana screeched to a stop, clinging desperately onto Favel, who was teetering on her green stilettos.

"And here we are," she heard Favel trill in a breathy Scottish brogue. "Platform nine-and-three-quarters."

Riana timidly opened her slanted eyes and felt her jaw drop in amazement, for there before her, shining in gleaming black, huffing and puffing like a randy bull in spring, was a train. And not just any train; no, it was like one of the old-fashioned locomotives that she'd seen in her Usborne picture books. And, all around her were people: dozens of people, young people, old people. Oh, there were people in the King's Cross they'd just left, but they were normal. Here, everybody was dressed in robes of black, fuchsia, olive, navy-blue, goldenrod, and pointed hats, stovepipes, berets, and lugging trunks and animals.

Young children were chasing after each other, laughing happily. Many of the little girls had long hair, unbound, and it was flying after them in tangles and whorls as they whipped after their brothers, their sisters, their friends. Some children were dressed in black school robes like Riana's and Fabian's, others wore Muggle clothing. One girl...she must have been only three-years-old...was dressed in a sparkly princess costume. She was a beautiful little girl, with golden curls and huge blue eyes with which she stared at Riana, fingers in her mouth. Riana felt her own eyes widen in response and she almost...almost...smiled back, but caught herself before she did.

Older students walked arm-in-arm toward the train, gossiping happily, their multi-hued heads together. Riana saw the girl...Evertrue, right?...from Dean's Ice Cream Parlor stepping onto the train with a magazine tucked under her arm. She was followed by a spindly, black-haired boy, about one year older than Riana, wearing glasses. Children hung out the windows of the train, yelling their "Hullo's" to each other, or reaching for almost-forgotten objects from anxious parents. The place was a zoo, and Riana found herself grinning like a fool. Aware of how she must look, she snapped her mouth shut, lips thinning into a stenciled line, but continued to stare around, her grey eyes sparkling in joy instead of sparking in fury or annoyance.

"All right, then," Favel said, regaining her composure as she balanced herself on her heels. "Time to move, children." And, before Riana (who was eagerly drinking in the sights and sounds of platform nine-and-three-quarters) could say "house-elf," they were moving again through the crowd, heading for the train.

As they reached a passenger car, a deafening crack resounded through the station and Henry appeared, bowing low before Favel. "Mistress," he whispered as Favel's sculpted brows lowered dangerously; she was an awfully hard woman to please. "Henry has put Master Fabian's and Miss Riana's possessions in compartment twelve of car two," he elaborated, gesturing toward the car behind him. "Henry hopes he has not been too bold to do so without express permission of Mistress."

"No, Henry," Favel replied icily, "ya have done well. That'll be all, then. Go on back t' the Leaky Cauldron now and pack me things. Then take them home. I'm leavin' as soon as possible."

Henry bowed and, with another crack...which no one around seemed to find amiss, although one bushy-haired witch standing next to a gangly, redheaded man glared scathingly at Riana and the Urquharts...vanished. Favel then turned to Riana and Fabian. Kneeling, she placed her hands on Fabian's solid shoulders and stared at him with her glittering green eyes for a full minute. Then, with something that sounded a little like a sob, she pulled him to her chest. (Riana then had the pleasure of watching Fabian turn from a tanned golden to a splotchy red in embarrassment.) Finally, Favel let go of Fabian, looked him dead in the eye once more and said, "Ya behave ya self, now, lad. Ya will not be gettin' expelled and blottin' up the family name, aye?"

Fabian grinned cheekily, the flush fading from his cheeks. "Aye, Mum; that'll be the truth." Favel narrowed her eyes at Fabian's flippant tone, but turned instead to Riana and held out her arms. Riana simply stood and stared at her until Fabian, sensing awkwardness, prodded her forward with a paw to the lower back. Riana felt herself stiffen as Favel's arms went around her, but she relaxed a little as water lily perfume, not violets, filled her nostrils. With a brief squeeze, Favel let her go and looked down. "Take care of him, lassie, aye?" And with that, Favel smiled, spun in her emerald green stilettos, and clicked off.

Fabian and Riana slowly turned to face each other, faces split into wide grins, and with whoops of excitement, dashed toward the door of the car. Of course, they both got there at the same time, and with much shoving and pushing, managed to squeeze in at the same time too, Riana bumping her bony elbows heartily on the brass and wood doors. Seizing Riana's hand, Fabian took off down the hallway, snaking around couples and groups with the natural ease of an animal. "Nine," he intoned, glancing up at the numbers over each cabin, "ten, eleven, twe...Ha! Here we go. Twelve."

Sliding the glass door open, Fabian let himself and Riana in, shutting out the exuberant noise of the other Hogwarts children behind them. Riana was beside herself with excitement; she had been glancing over her shoulder at the surge of students rushing by in the hall and failed to notice that anyone else was in the cabin with them until Fabian drew her around him by the hand.

There, staring hostilely up at her, was the prettiest...and tallest; her long legs were folded akimbo underneath her body...girl that Riana had ever seen. She looked like she was carved of marble. Huge, almond-shaped brown eyes rested arrogantly over a ski-slope nose and high, prominent cheekbones in a cafe au lait face. Brown hair brushed with strands of gold was swept high into a messy, but elegant bun, through which silver and green chopsticks were thrust. A full, pouty mouth was the beautiful Hyacinth's, for so she must be, crowning feature. That mouth, innocent now, and puckered in a petulant frown, would one day be sensual.

Next to her on the couch was a blond-haired boy with a pale, pointed face. His cheekbones, too, soared high, nearly up to his temples where blue veins pulsed through his unnaturally pale, translucent skin as he stared, grey eyes wide at Riana and Fabian. A pile of books was heaped in his lap, and delicate, pale, well-kept hands were placed lightly on top of it. As if sensing Riana's discomfort in the present situation, the boy smiled at her, a smile which instantly lightened the seriousness of his sharp face.

Riana tried to smile back, but her slanted gaze instead flicked back and forth between the two children in front of her. Not exactly the warmest welcome. And weren't she and Fabian supposed to have this cabin to themselves? Oh! House-elves were useless!

"Who are you?" the girl asked softly, though through the softness was a barb of suspicion and instant dislike. Riana merely stared, grey eyes wide as possible. Fabian, his natural ebullience emerging, answered for her.

"Hiya, Scorpius, Hyacinth. This is Riana; she's a Slytherin born, so there'll be none of ya normal complainin', eh, Hyacinth?" Hyacinth shrugged and gave Riana a saccharine smile before pulling out a green brocade journal. With a little, affected sigh, she proceeded to ignore Riana and began writing in it with an ostrich-plumed quill, her nose primly lifted in the air.

Scorpius shyly smiled again, said, "Hi, Riana," and then quickly looked down at his books, opening one of them.

Pleased at his success in introducing Riana to his pureblood friends, Fabian flung himself onto the seat beside Hyacinth, leaned to one side, and dug deep into his pocket. As he rooted around, Riana stood there, clutching the sleeping Alvean to her chest, awkwardly watching the three young friends. She already felt like an outsider, and they weren't even at school, yet! Fabian, finally extracting the something from his pocket (it turned out to be Licorice Wands) raised his eyebrows at her, his yellow eyes gleaming. "Aren't ya gonna sit?" he asked.

"Yeah, Riana," Hyacinth spoke again, her soft voice ultra-sweet. "Sit down. We don't bite." She giggled, but her giggle wasn't kind. Instead, Riana felt the mocking underneath the niceties and remained standing. It wasn't until Scorpius, who had, by this time, placed a pair of spectacles on his upturned nose, grinned up at her and gestured to the spot on the wooden bench beside him that Riana finally took a seat.

"My last name's Malfoy," he said. "My dad works for the Ministry. Who's your dad?"

Riana gulped and looked over at Fabian for help, but he was whispering in Hyacinth's ear. She was laughing delightedly at whatever he was saying. Riana felt a surge of annoyance toward both Fabian and Hyacinth; Fabian, for his desertion, Hyacinth for her, for her... Oh! I don't know! She's just ... weird! "Um... I, I don't really know my real dad. You know what I mean?"

Scorpius looked confused. A shock of blond hair had fallen across his forehead, though most of it was slicked back with pomade, and his glasses had slid farther down his nose. "No, not really. Your real dad, huh? But whatever. It's all okay, I guess. Who's your mum?"

Hyacinth was eying her now, too, and Riana was beginning to get nervous. She wiped sweating palms on her robe and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Then, with the candor of a politician, Fabian intervened again. "What is this, mates? She's not a murder"...he rolled the r's in 'murder'..."suspect, so stop quizzin' her. And ya, Scorpius, stop havin' a bloody go at her parentage. Who cares? Oi! I've got an idea; who's in for some Explodin' Snap?"

With a sigh of relief, Riana raised her thin arm in acquiescence as Hyacinth, her cool mask broken, squealed, "Oh, me! Me! I do!" Scorpius shoved his books off his lap and took his glasses off his nose.

"Me, too," he said, pushing the lock of blond hair off his forehead.

With a grin, Fabian said, "Well... on t'other hand, I'm none s' sure I have the game with me. Have ya got it, lass?" This last, he directed at Riana. With an incredulous look at Fabian, she shook her head emphatically. "Haven't ya, then?" he asked mischievously. He then turned to Scorpius and Hyacinth. "Who believes that Riana has a deck of Explodin' Snap?"

Without fail, Scorpius and Hyacinth blurted out, "I do!" simultaneously, looked at each other, and burst into peals of laughter.

"Traitors," Riana snapped playfully, surprising herself with the ease at which she spoke to them. They merely grinned back; Hyacinth's a little strained, Scorpius's genuine. Fabian chuckled softly, fangs glinting in the light of the carriage, stood, and walked over to Riana as the Hogwarts Express gave a screaming whistle and trembled a little under their feet. With a bow and flourish, Fabian effortlessly pulled a bemused Riana to her feet, turned her around to face Hyacinth and Scorpius, reached up to her ear, and pulled a card deck out of thin air.

Mouth hanging open, Riana turned to stare at him. "You never told me you knew magic!"

"Slight of hand, me darlin'," Fabian said with a grin as Scorpius and Hyacinth clapped appreciatively, "slight of hand."

*

For the next three hours, Riana and the others played "Explodin' Snap," and time seemed to pass quickly. The others were her equals in intellect and...she hoped...breeding, and it was the first time that she had ever felt comfortable with people her own age. True, Hyacinth's hostility was a little trying at times, but she soon learned to ignore that. Hyacinth was a brat, just like Fabian had said, but she was a beautiful brat, so her behavior was easier to overlook. And, yes, when the others ordered snacks and candy off the food cart that a plump witch wheeled down the aisle, Riana told herself, No!, and abstained, although her stomach growled loudly at the mountains of delicious desserts and delicacies heaped around the carriage.

Riana was absolute rot at Exploding Snap; so was Scorpius, but Fabian and Hyacinth were at each other's throats the entire time. "We've played before," Hyacinth explained as her tower grew miraculously fast, her fingers flying to build it higher and higher. Fabian was hot in pursuit, but at that moment, the train hit a switch on the tracks, bumped, and Fabian's card castle snapped loudly and came crashing down, followed seconds later by Hyacinth's. "I win!" she crowed triumphantly and held out her hand.

Begrudgingly, Fabian handed over a Chocolate Frog, which was the currency of their game. Unfortunately, though, they were running out of Chocolate Frogs and, while there were plenty of wrappers, it's not fun to win trash, no matter what game you're playing.

"Are we there yet?" Riana asked, yawning as she reclined back, only to sit up quickly as one of Scorpius's textbooks jabbed wickedly into her back.

"I hope so," Scorpius replied, rubbing his nose with a soot-blackened hand...he really was terrible at Exploding Snap. He left a smudge on the bridge of his nose, and Hyacinth stuck her finger in her mouth, leaned over, and rubbed off the spot. "Thanks," he muttered before leaning back next to Riana.

Fabian had, by this time, fallen asleep ... or something. He lay on his back, eyes open but glazed over, and his breaths were deep and even. Besides, he wasn't moving or talking or doing anything of the things he normally was. It was difficult to keep Fabian still ... except for now.

With a deep sigh, Riana wriggled uncomfortably on the hard bench, rolled Alvean (who was lazy and getting tubby) into a ball, and turned to look out the window. Evening was falling fast, and orange light soaked the green countryside as the train whizzed along. Every so often, the Express would emit a loud whistle, and black smoke would billow past the window, but mostly it was just trees and fields, rocks and valleys that whipped by in the steadily-darkening gloom. A v-shaped flock of birds sailed serenely by among the sun-soaked clouds, heading south. At least, Riana assumed that they were flying south. It was a little early for winter migration, but maybe the birds wanted a change.

The steady rocking of the train began to lull Riana into sleep, just like a mother and her baby in a bassinet. Somewhere, distantly, a fly buzzed, but Riana simply ignored it, her eyelids drooping. Oh, it would be so easy just to fall asleep. This ride was taking much too long anyway. Besides, once she woke up, she'd be at Hogwarts, right? Right...

"Look!" It was Hyacinth, her soft voice escalating into a shrill shriek of exhilaration. With a start, Riana sat up straight, knocking head with Scorpius as he did the same. Rubbing their heads and grinning at each other ruefully, Riana and Scorpius turned to look out the window.

"Oh, my god," Riana breathed softly, her breath fogging up the glass window. There, meters and meters away, but visible through the trees, was a brightly-lit, behemoth castle, its myriad windows ablaze with golden light. It was pitch-black outside now, and the castle, growing larger as they snaked toward it, was absolutely breathtaking. Its battlements and turrets were starkly outlined against the velvety black of the sky and gleamed pale in the moonlight.

Taking short, hyperventilating breaths, Riana gazed at the castle as though she could drink in the magical nourishment that she felt pulsating from the castle through her eyes. Suddenly, she felt a rough hand on her arm. She started, startled out of her silent reverie, and looked up to see who had touched her. Her eyes met Fabian's queer yellow ones, and the expression in his mirrored that in hers. "Can you believe..."

"No," he replied, for once serious as he, too, turned to stare out the window, eyes wide. "It's..."

"Incredible," supplied Hyacinth, who was clutching Fabian's muscular arm on the other side of the bench.

"No," whispered Riana, her heart breaking and healing at the same time as the lonely beauty of the castle seeped into her rail-thin body, "it's Hogwarts."