The Detective Club | Blaise Zabini

XXI

"I don't think I've ever seen you this happy to be going home," said Hamilton, lugging his trunk behind him. Antheia was confused as to why he wasn't using his wand to carry his trunk down to the train, but if she pointed out, he probably wouldn't listen out of embarrassment.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this sad to be going home," said Antheia, "Is it because you won't be able to sneak off at night anymore and come back early in the morning, pretending as if nothing happened?"

"You should pay less attention to me and more to your zucchini."

"I don't like the way you phrased that."

"It came out wrong."

Antheia laughed as she boarded the train, Hamilton right behind her. It was crowded and she had to push past people to get to where she wanted to go. She realized Hamilton wasn't following her and turned to see him trying to dodge everyone else. She sighed as she walked back, grabbed his arm, and pulled him along with her.

"I wish you'd be that nice to me," she mumbled. It was less of the fact that Hamilton was nice but more that he was timid around strangers.

Hamilton jabbed her side with his elbow, pushing her to the right. She bumped into the wall of the compartment. "You're so rude!" she exclaimed as she pushed him back. He wasn't so fortunate and bumped into someone who was passing by them. She quickly grabbed Hamilton and pulled him away as she recognized the dark curly locks that belonged to Andreas Artino, that was one feature they didn't share and she was envious of.

Andreas turned his head to see who had pushed into him. Perhaps it had been their upbringing but despite Hamilton being taller than him, Andreas seemed to have a more dominating presence. It was as if the few extra inches between him and Hamilton meant nothing as the latter cowered slightly. Andreas looked down and up at him before he opened his mouth until his eyes flickered over to his sister, who was waiting for him to make a snarky remark. He closed his mouth and kept walking.

"Well, that's new," said Antheia as Hamilton stared at where the boy once stood, "I'm a little nervous about what to expect at home. Andreas has been acting weird, don't you think so?"

"Yeah, definitely weird. . ." Hamilton trailed off.

Antheia glanced at him, "You alright? You look pale."

"Has anyone told you how scarily similar you two look?"

". . .Yes, all the time. Why do you think I started lightening my hair?"

"I thought you did that because you wanted to make your father mad."

"By dying my hair? I could shave it all off and he wouldn't care about my hair. . .or rather lack of."

"You'd look awful with a shaved head."

"Shut up, Hamilton."

They found an empty compartment and settled in.

"Don't you ever get mad that your brother has better hair than you?"

"Stop complimenting his hair in front of me, it's like you're trying to make me mad on purpose."

He laughed, "You know you're my favourite, right?"

"I better be."

Hamilton pulled out a book and before Antheia could whine about being bored, the door to the compartment opened and Max stood there. Hamilton was the first person he saw and his eyes widened. He looked behind Hamilton to see Antheia, who stared at him. Hamilton looked back at Antheia.

"You invited the little rebel?"

"Be nice," she whispered back, "Hi, Max. Do you need something?"

"I have nowhere to sit," he mumbled.