counting stars

“Woah, lil homie, you alright?” Kiran lightly jogged up to Luke, grabbing hold of him by his shoulders and giving them a pat or two. “Ah, is this cheeky little knocker playing around?” Looking over his shoulder, he eyed the knocker. Maybe he could charm his way into getting Luke into the common room. It was just a knocker, right? Knockers couldn’t get hurt. “You tried flirting with our big ma over there?” He lowered his voice a little. “It’d be easier if she had eyes, but I can get my seductive voice on, you get me?”

Kiran Khan approaching him was surely strange, as Luke had nothing in common with the older boy, but he was quick to take any help he was offered. He just found it a little startling to have his shoulders grabbed, blinking up with confused eyes. “Um, yeah, I guess you could say that?” He wasn’t sure that a knocker could play around, but Kiran’s speech was known to be a little on the quirky side. “”Flirting?” Luke was very dubious about this odd approach that Kiran was suggesting, skepticism in his voice. “To be honest, I don’t really, but I’m not sure that will work? The knocker doesn’t really listen. Trust me, Lucy’s tried to argue with it plenty of times. Though she’s never tried...charming it.” Seduce just wasn’t a word that easily came out of his mouth.

Lord have fucking mercy on Luke Avery’s soul, for the tragedy of not knowing the answer to a Shakespeare riddle. The result of a sheltered upbringing by a family of bigots. Baptiste scowled at Luke’s expression of gratitude, almost laughable that the boy thought he’d be receiving the answer. “It’s Shakespeare,” he stated with utmost contempt, “Hamlet”. There was little use in clarifying the source of the riddle, but perhaps it’d prompt the Avery boy to educate himself. “Firstly, drop that face. The helpless look is highly vexatious.” One more look at Luke would prompt him to bring out the needle. “Secondly, I’m not helping you. I merely wanted to know how dense you are.”

Shakespeare. Hamlet. Those were familiar, but only vaguely. But when Baptiste told him to drop the face, any lingering fragments of that reference seeped out of his head as panic started to fill it once more. Finger curling around his inhaler, he knew that he was helpless, but having it pointed out to him was rubbing salt into the wound. “Oh,” he croaked out lamely, feeling that tell tale suffocating sensation in his throat. It made it harder to think, make smart choices. “I don’t...was that      Muggle Studies?” His parents didn’t keep much literature in the house that was penned by muggles, after all. Knowing that he would receive no answer, Luke began rolling on the balls of his feet, looking to and fro, anywhere but at Baptiste, visibly uncomfortable. “Maybe I’ll just...come back later...” He had the want to run straight to the Slytherin Dungeon where his sisters were. 

Being someone who always lied about how she felt, someone who put on – or at liest tried to put on – a smile when she felt like crying, it was easy to spot out other liars. Other people who pretended to be okay. Luke tended to be one of these, and she felt so selfish because she didn’t know what to do with it. Perhaps people who cannot handle their own demons aren’t supposed to help others. But she promised herself she’d try. At his words, she blushed remotely — it was not something she believed to be true, but it sounded nice when he told her she tried hard.·“I don’t know if that’s true, because that riddle… I have no clue, in all honesty. Those two sound logical, though … a writer, maybe?,” but that was not right, either, and Mallory frowned slightly, and that was mostly out of concern, not because she failed to solve the riddle.·“Are you sure? I mean … you can talk to me, yeah? And yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just got back a bad grade, but it’s no big deal, really. I’ll fix it.”

Luke wasn’t the best at people reading, but he did get gut feelings. And his gut always steered him true when it came to people were upset. Or maybe it was just because he was familiar with Mallory, had seen her struggles in class firsthand over the years. There was nothing he could to alleviate that, though, and that was the real sucker punch in the gut. The few friends he had and he had to either distance himself from them or he couldn’t do anything to make sure they were okay. There wasn’t much hope for him. He had made his choices and now he had to live with the consequences of them. Mallory wasn’t the same. “So not a library, professor, or writer...” He paused, trailing his words, but he wasn’t much thinking of the riddle anymore. “I wish I could offer to help, but I’m not much good at any class.” Magic wasn’t him. It may be in his blood, but he never honed in on it. “But I’m sure you’ll turn it around. It’s still early enough in the term.” He attempted to be optimistic, but it didn’t sit on him well. “And I know I can talk to you. It’s just...it’s something that’s not easy for me to talk about.” And it wasn’t fair, since Mallory was being honest with him. “Family stuff. But I’ll work through it.”

“Honestly, I don’t understand the appeal of firewhisky. It burns when it goes down your throat and it leaves you with this fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Now, I can get behind some rum and wine.”

"Personally, I prefer Butterbeer. But some wines aren’t all that bad. Mum and Dad have a huge wine cellar at home and sometimes, when I’m feeling daring, I’ll dip into it while doing some painting. It makes me feel like a true blue artist.”

She couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride then – Lucy loved being good at things, no matter how small. “Well, there’s your answer, I use yours so much I no longer get tongue tied. But I could tell you my secret on not getting tongue tied.” Of course, she wanted to ask more about his mother, more about the inner workings of what was going on in Luke Avery’s mind, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anyone prying ( not that that had stopped her before ). “You know better than to argue with me, and it’s not at all. I also don’t like the idea that it’s beat us at our own game, but you’ve got a point.” Lucy kicked the door then, huffing when nothing came of it. “See, the problem is, Molly is smarter than me. She’s much more clever. It doesn’t matter how much I look, if she doesn’t want me to find her, I won’t. Molly is just brilliant, and she sure is hard to pin down.” Maybe that was why she tried so damn hard, to make up for the fact that she just wasn’t brilliant like Molly, that she wasn’t savvy like her either. There was no jealousy or bad blood, they were just different people and that was okay. It wasn’t a bad thing, because she was proud to work hard for things – it was just grossly inconvenient in this situation. “My other family, well, I don’t think they’d tell me. Thank you though, Luke. Really.” Lucy’s face softened then, even if she wasn’t looking over at him, she was grateful. At least there was someone to listen to her babble – it was better than having it stew in her head. “Run out of riddles? How else would they torture us?”

"And what’s your secret then? A lot of tongue twisters? Sally sells seashells down by the seashore kind of stuff?” Quite honestly, Luke was always impressed with Lucy. Some found her to be high-maintenance, but he thought she was rather brilliant in her own way. But, then again, he had grown up with Amma. Compared to that, Lucy was rather tame. “Arguing with you never gets anywhere, true, but neither does arguing with the knocker. So, that’s, what, a Catch-22, yeah?” Luke may not be the biggest reader, but he did dabble in it from time to time. There was a point where he’d wanted to be the perfect little Ravenclaw so devoted to his studies. But, just like with everything, Luke had fallen short of that. “Well, you can’t stay lost in this castle forever, so I’m sure you’ll run into her eventually and get to find out why it was that she decided to lay low for a bit. I’m sure she has her reasons?” Or so Luke would assume. Whenever he needed Amma, she was just there. She didn’t hide from him. It was rather nice as he turned to her more often than he probably should for being fifteen now. His parents got onto him about that, too. Smile quipped on his face, he let out a laugh. “True, true, but isn’t school torture enough? Rowena must have been a truly mad woman. Clever, but right mad.” 

“You better manage that, Lulu,” she corrected, flicking him gently on the nose. Amma titled her head to the left, “I don’t care what mum and dad expect of you, you are not going to be carrying any weight. You’re a kid, and kids don’t have to do anything except be kids. Just.. give me that, okay? I don’t want you to miss out on being a fifteen year old boy because of this. I don’t want you to miss out on anything. You have to stop worrying about me, about helping me —- I appreciate it, I know you care. Trust me, I do. But I don’t need it. And next year… next year, this will all be over, one way or another. And you will be fine. By then, everyone who’s anyone will want your work in their galleries. You’ll be Luke Avery, the most talented magician slash artist of his time. And you will be fine.” Even if his future possibly didn’t include her. “You could be the pinnacle of what a pureblood wants in their children, like Matty tortures himself into, and you still wouldn’t be enough to please them. They’ll never be proud of us, Luke.” Amma laughed, “Marzia is too nice for her own good. She’s, like, a more naive, cuter Mother Teresa with a killer fashion sense.” Astoundingly, she managed to maintain visual composure at the mention of Lily. It was easy to forget the little troll bint and Luke were in the same year when all she thought of in relation to Lily was how much she hated her —- and that certainly wasn’t a feeling that could relate to Luke. “Good. If anyone does, let me know. I’ll sic Nadia onto them. Hey, do me a solid and stay as far away as possible from Lily, okay? Like, literally, if she ever does try to talk to you, scream stranger danger until she fucks off. I don’t trust her, she’s a violent, nasty little mutt let off her leash and I don’t want her near you. Same goes for the rest of the Weasley and Potter girls.” 

Nose scrunching at the flick, Luke wanted to smile. He really did. Amma always managed to lift his spirits, all throughout his life, by assuring him of his worth, by telling him that it didn’t matter what their parents thought about him because he was enough. But right now, it wasn’t having as much of a lifting effect like it used to, and that churned in Luke’s stomach, sour and sick. He wanted to protest that if he was a kid, so was Amma. And none of this was fair of their parents to ask of them. “I’m always going to worry about you,” he admitted with a sad half-smile, “But I know you’re capable of handling yourself.” He just wished he couldl say the same of himself. He wished that he didn’t have to rely on Amma as much as he did. “I don’t...I’m not sure that will ever happen, Amma. Even if this all does brush over smoothly,  but it’s...a nice thought. Isn’t it? Being free to do what we want?” He wasn’t sure what it was that Amma wanted, but he believed that she could do anything. More than anything, Luke wanted what she envisioned, to be an artist. He could even skip the magician part in all honesty. Before, briefly, he’d considered just running off to the muggle world in the middle of all this chaos, but he couldn’t leave Amma or Cassia behind. Even if he felt that all he was was a burden. “But why? We’re their children. We’re doing this for them. If they can’t be proud of us, why can’t they just let us go?” Instead of stringing them along like they were puppets that they could do with what they pleased. “I wish it was just you, me, and Cassia. Just us three would be enough.” Then, quickly, he added, “And Nadia and Leo could come too, of course.” Stay away from Lily potter was easy enough. Or, well, at least avoiding confrontation was. He saw her as dangerous only in that Luke had always been easy to read. If he got too close, he feared she would see right through him. But as for the rest of the family, Luke hesitated, thinking of his friendship with Lucy. Lucy was one of his closest friends, and when he felt so alone like he did currently, so lost in this world, he wanted to keep what little friends he had. “I’ll do my best to stay away from Lily.” A long moment passed, a short fight happening within inside himself, but, as always, he found that, truthfully, there was no strength in him. He’d never been able to stand up and fight for what he wanted. “And the rest of them, too.” If that’s what Amma wanted, he would do it. 

Baptiste approached the boy in front of the knocker slowly, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose as a sigh of exasperation breezed through his lips. “Certainly not,” he quipped without missing a single beat. Ravenclaws that failed to answer the riddles irked him, especially ones that asked for help. He much rather wait for them to figure out the answer by themselves, though it often required taking another hit. “The riddle,” he demanded, walking around him to lean against the wall.

Luke was easy to intimidate. Especially by his older peers. And Baptiste was no exception to this. He already felt bad enough after seeing that girl tortured by Perseus and doing nothing to stop it. Now, he couldn’t even get into his own House Common Room. Surely the Hat had been mistaken when they had sorted him among the clever and witty. “Um, it’s what is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?” he provided meekly, standing to the side rather than getting close to Baptiste. “Thanks...”

Mallory was … well, not feeling that well. Essays returning with miserable grades were enough to unsettle her for days and days, and with a sinking feeling that maybe this year would be the one she would fail, she had made her way to the common room. Feeling relieved someone appeared to be standing there — the riddles were her personal nemesis, it seemed — she hoped they would know the answer. That was not the case. “Eh … yeah, yeah, of course. I don’t know if I’ll be of much help though, you know how horrid I’m at these. Not the only thing, actually, one of many,” stopping herself from ending in a spiral of negativity, she pushed her lips together. “What’s the riddle? And are you okay?”

Luke was quick to try and shove his inhaler into his pocket when Mallory came into view, though he knew she’d already seen it. He was honestly relieved to see her. Though she looked...unsettled. Pursing his mouth into a thin line, Luke wished, not for the first time, that he wasn’t burdened with his own mountain of insecurities. Perhaps if he wasn’t, he’d be better at helping Mallory relieve herself of some of her own. “Not like I’m any better at them,” he reminded her, cautiously bumping his shoulder with hers. “And don’t beat yourself up like that. You try harder than most everyone I know. That counts for more than you think.” Sure, Mallory may get discouraged, but at least she tried. That was more than Luke could say. “The riddle was if it's information you seek, come and see me. If it's pairs of letters you need, I have consecutively three,” he recited, “All I could think of was the library. Or a professor. But that’s not it.” He shook his head, ignoring the tightness in his chest. “I’m fine. Just...stressed. And what about you? Did something happen?” It was clear that something was bothering her. She looked absolutely forlorn.

“Well, I don’t like to think that we aren’t witty we’re just a different sort of witty they’re not. Which, fine, yes, that is original, I s’pose, but still. We do better than just scrape by, Luciano Octavio Avery, we are the part of what makes Ravenclaw c o l o r f u l. We make it whole.” Talking, Lucy was doing just so much talking, nervously at that and she knew it. It made her feel frazzled, she felt as if she had just downed about 10 expressos. Still, she stood tall, crossed her arms inspecting the damn knocker in all it’s confusing glory. “It’s alright, not your fault. I’ve been fizzing about everywhere, and yes I am worried about her. I’m sure you can relate having two sisters yourself.” Though, Lucy didn’t point out more, that he could relate because this was war and a missing sister could mean a dead one. At any rate, Lucy wasn’t going to think like that, Molly was just hiding – she had always been much more clever. “Alright, heads together first – but, you’ll have to put up with my … – process, you know.” After she heard him spell out the riddle, Lucy came to a total blank and could only give Luke a look of annoyed confusion. “Are they serious with this?”

"Lucy, do you ever get your tongue tied on names? Just curious because mine’s a mouthful yet you say it even smoother than my mother does. And you also use it more frequently, fyi.” He went strictly by ‘Luke’ because Luciano just sounded so weird and didn’t fit him. “But I’m not arguing with you. We’re totally as Ravenclaw as they get, but the knocker beats us at what’s supposed to be our own game. It’s not very practical, when you think about it.” Because if they were meant to be original, then they ought to be able to use more than one answer instead of being kept inside of a box, Luke would think. “Amma insists that I not worry about her, but of course I still do anyway. Same with Cassia, but at least I can feel a bit better, knowing that they are normally together.” They were in the same House, after all, and Cassia tended to keep close to Amma’s side if she could. “Have you tried asking your family?” There were a lot of them hanging about, after all. Surely at least one of them knew of Molly’s whereabouts. “I do hope you hear from her soon though.” When people were dying in the castle, it was enough to strike fear into someone’s heart when someone wasn’t accounted for. Glancing back to the knocker, all he could do was give a helpless shrug. “Pretty sure they’re serious considering they’ve done it this way for years. You’d think they’d run out of riddles eventually.”

“I’ve always wondered why I was sorted into this house if they were just going to throw this bloody knocker at me, I’ve tried hexing it, y’know. And me? No, not really somewhere, I’m looking for my sister. – Have you seen Molly?” It finally hit her how helpless she felt in that moment, not knowing where Molly was when she had a gut feeling that something was wrong. It hit her in a big wave though she kept tight control over her the way she presented herself in front of Luke, simply sighing. “You’re welcome.” Crossing her arms, Lucy pursed her lips, wishing she had Molly’s mind for riddles, so she could get through the door. “Oh dear, well, we could try asking for a new riddle? We could try solving it ourselves? I’m not one for giving up, are you? You did say we were two peas in a pod.”

"It’s rather taxing, isn’t it? We’re the house of the cleverness, yes, but people also forget about the creativity and originality bit where we fall in. So we’re left trying to scrape by among all the witty people.” When Lucy asked of her sister, Luke shook his head. “Sorry, can’t say I’ve seen her. I had imagined she was at the party. That’s where I assume Amma is, at any rate. Are you worried about her?” If she was, they could always go look for her. Luke didn’t mind tagging along. He honestly would appreciate the company. Letting out a grin at their presented possibilities, he turned to her with a gleam in his eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I figure we should just put our heads together first.” He wasn’t a quitter, but he wasn’t a leader, either. “So, we have to figure out what can be smelled, bought, and delivered. You got anything? All I could think of was flowers and that didn’t get me anywhere.”

“I can handle it,” she assured, not a second thought, her voice light. “I’m your big sister, it’s my job. You just have to stay out of trouble —- that’s yours.” It was rare for Amma to let on that anything was seriously affecting her to her siblings. They didn’t need to be worried about her on top of everything else on their plates. She knew they would anyways. Letting on that she was struggling, though, wasn’t going to make it easier on Luke. Her brows drew together at him, hold on his finger tightening, “of course, Lu.” She touched a hand to his cheek, “of course you’re enough for me. You’re more. You’re perfect —- how you are. Not how they want you to be, understand?” Amma forced herself to swallow back tears. Her brother was easily the best person she knew, with the kindest heart. And her parents had him questioning it. Had him questioning how she felt about him. “You and Cassia are the proudest parts of my life, Lu. Don’t forget it, no matter what.” How could Luke ever think he wasn’t? She dropped her hand back by her side. “It was lame, anyways. Too many poor fashion choices to concentrate on having a good time.” Amma’s eyes surveyed his features for a moment, lamenting the frown that had seemed etched into warm, soft features for months now. “Is… anything else bothering you? You can tell me.” 

"I can manage that, I think.” Luke didn’t seek trouble. But it could sometimes find him. “I just don’t want you to take too much responsibility for me. I should carry some of my own weight, too. What will I do next year when you aren’t here?” He was being optimistic in assuming Hogwarts would still be around then. Should this war continue on its path, he wondered what this place would turn into. They talked about it, in Hogwarts: A History, the newer editions that covered the Second Wizarding War. Talked about how for a full year, darkness had plagued Hogwarts’ halls when it was ran by Severus Snape. Luke was branded by the Mark, but that didn’t mean tha the would be safe as a result. Especially without his oldest sister around. Covering her hand with one of his own, Luke’s throat clogged up with emotion. He blinked away tears. “Then, if you think so, that’s enough. It’s not, I’m not, enough for them, but that’s okay.” Amma’s opinion mattered most. She was his most precious person. Her and Cassia. “It’s rare for you to find a party totally lame. Ah, I saw Marzia, speaking of fashion choices, when I peaked into the party. She was worried about her clothes being too much or whatever.” Luke had never really understood fashion. “Anyone bothering me?” He parroted, shaking his head. “No...there isn’t anyone. I don’t talk to many people though. You know that. And most fifth years stay out of the whole thing. The war, that is.” There weren’t many that he knew that were entrenched in it, anyway. “I mean, save for Lily Potter, I guess, but she’s never talked much to me. We’ve never had a reason to and I have a feeling she probably wouldn’t want to.”

Amma returned the smile, likely one of the only sincere ones she’d dealt out in weeks. For Luke, it was real. Even when she was sad and weary and worried, it was real. Though it faded at the mention of their parents. She’d protested the idea of her younger siblings joining the Death Eaters vehemently from the start. Luke, in particular, was not cut out for it, and Amma extended her hand, linking her index finger around his. “I’ll fix it, Lu,” she promised. “They’ll leave you alone. It’ll all be okay, I’ve got it.” I’ll perform enough for all three of us. Really, she didn’t want Cassia and Luke anywhere near what the Death Eaters got up to. Amma wanted to keep them safe and protected and away from anything ugly or nasty forever. She rolled narrow shoulders into a dismissive shrug, “I’m already right where I want to be. And you? Not in the partying mood?” 

Curling his finger tightly around Amma’s, he found comfort in her words. When Amma set to do something, Luke knew that she meant it. “I don’t want you to have to take the brunt of it though. That’s not fair to you.” There was nothing he could really do about it, other than let Amma, truthfully, but that didn’t mean it sat well with him. “I know I’m disappointing them, but this    ” Me. “This is enough for you at least, right?” That’s what really mattered to him. That Amma didn’t think he was a failure. “You know I don’t really do well at parties. I don’t mind them, I guess, but I stopped by for a little bit and decided to do just go to bed instead. It’s just too weird being at a party with...everyone.” Muggleborns and purebloods alike. People that were engaged on opposite ends of a war, dancing and drinking and snogging together. It was all so fake, and it was such an ugly picture to Luke. He couldn’t stand looking at it for long. 

“You’re about as stumped as me, Luke, though I’m not even sure why I’m heading back here in the first place.” No, she was not giving up on trying to find her sister but merely taking a break from the commotion below. Finally tuning into the scene, she noticed that the boy in front of her was having what seemed to be asthma problems seeing as he had an inhaler, “oi, is there anything I can do to help? Anything?” 

"Two peas in a pod, we are. You got somewhere else you need to be?” Maybe she wanted to go to that party. Seemed like that’s where nearly half the school was. Tucking his inhaler into his pants, he shook his head. “No, it’s just something that I’ve got to deal with on my own.” Without Lucy’s assistance or input. Much like his involvement with the Death Eaters. “But thanks.” He turned back to the knocker. “So what are we going to do about this thing? Not sure much of anyone else is going to come by anytime soon.)

“Always,” Amma replied, tucking one of her brother’s stray hairs into place when she stood shoulder to shoulder with him. It wasn’t the first time she’d aided in solving the Ravenclaw riddles, and it wouldn’t be the last, she was sure. She eyed his inhaler, eyebrow quirking in concern. “Is it playing up?” 

Relieved by his sister’s presence (like always), Luke willed himself to relax under her touch, grateful smile finding its way to his face. “Thanks.” Shifting on his feet uncomfortably at her question, he explained, “A little. Mum and Dad sent me a letter. A strongly worded one.” May as well have been a howler. And his parents were more often than not a trigger for his asthma.“About my performance.” Back in the hostage situation, but he didn’t dare mention that out loud. The halls were vacant, but he wouldn’t take the risk. “They...want me to get more involved in activities.” And he was scared. So scared it felt his chest was going to concave under the pressure. “I thought you’d be at that party.”