(Forty Six: Flesh, Blood and Bone)

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"Do you think they're going to tell us what's happening in there?"

Micah Fawley shifted in his seat. 

His sister, his twin baby sister was shut up in the concrete box (he refused to acknowledge it as an actual building) behind the steel door. The space he was occupying didn't appear too different, except with the added nasty façade of a hospital waiting room. 

Uncomfortable, slightly damp smelling chairs were linked together with metal legs attached to the wall, a vending machine squatted in the corner, glaring out at the world through eyes comprised of out-of-date pretzels, daring anyone to approach the suspiciously dusty number pad. An off shade of lime splashed the walls that winked evilly under the florescent lighting strip.  

"I think they're going to keep us out here as long as possible just to let us know who's in charge." Logan Mitchell had his arms crossed in the seat opposite, scowling at the door.

Remus Lupin sighed and lowered the Daily Prophet he was reading, "I'm sure it'll be fine."

They ignored him.

"Who is in charge?" Micah demanded, "It's not the ministry. This place would be cleaner."

Logan and Remus glanced at each other.

"I'm not sure," Remus began, "Look-"

"Whoa, stop." Micah looked affronted, "What was that?"

Logan smiled innocently, "What?"

"The look." Micah narrowed his eyes at the pair, "You two just did a look."

"No, we didn't." Logan denied.

Unable to restrain himself, he glanced at Remus for support.

"Ah ha!" Micah pointed triumphantly at him, "You just did it again."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Remus denied plainly.

Micah paused for a second, trying to pull together words in a way that reminded Logan uncomfortably of Alex. Sometimes the fact that they were twins came back at him with a jarring impact. In his fairly structured life there was no one like Alex, no one who tapped their sides impatiently while waiting, the way that Micah did now. It made him uncomfortable, so he turned to Remus. Because the exact opposite of 'uncomfortable' was 'Remus'.

"I don't like it." He muttered irritably, "She's still a minor, she can't even do magic yet. What are they even doing in there?"

"We found her washing blood off her hands from four mutilated corpses. Pad said she's been... Changed." Remus admitted. He was fiddling with the corner of the newspaper, not looking at Logan, which was probably something to do with his close proximity.

Awkwardly, Logan sat back, "I know. I know. But it's... It's Alex, you know? It's Al."

Alex couldn't be threatening. He'd stayed up all night in their first year just to teach her how to do Wingardium Leviosa. The next day, there'd been an owl with his name on it in the Great Hall at lunch. Somehow, Alex had known how much he was missing his family, and although they never spoke about the surprisingly heart-warming gift, the little note with his friend's familiar chicken scratch scrawl addressing ownership of the creature to him remained in Logan's proudest of possessions.

My best friend.

Logan thought about Gideon and Fabian Prewett, the way he'd always been on the outside. He thought about the distance between himself and ordinary people that disappeared when they were sat in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express throwing chocolate frog cards at each other. He thought about the way people always just assumed that Logan was the one propping Alex up, like he was giving out charity. And meanwhile the truth was hidden like a guilty secret.

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