Exile Solo Finished

The ticking time bomb on which soon-to-be-fourth-year Aly Salinger had been sitting for months, at this point, had finally given in and exploded.

Just three days after returning home from Hogwarts, Aly had made a stupid mistake. She had spent the first three days basking in her father's praise for her end-of-year grades and year's Quidditch victories, at least whenever he was home, and avoiding her mother, as per usual. Hesper Livingston-Salinger could be... a tricky person to navigate, to say the least, and Aly could never quite tell if her mother was proud of her or wanted to throttle her for the few non-O grades she'd achieved. Nonetheless, neither Benjamin nor Hesper were ever really home; the Salinger family home in Welwyn Garden City, just forty kilometres outside of London, usually sat as empty as ever during the days of summer, inhabited only by a certain curly-haired Ravenclaw and her beloved family house-elf. If Aly - who was never really a rebel, per se, and followed her family's rules as much as possible, unless those rules were positively idiotic, in which case her behaviour could be up in the air - had anything to hide from her parents, well... she wouldn't have to do it until night, when they came home, and who knew how late that could be.

As such, when her first letter of the summer arrived, Aly tore it open with gusto and her emerald eyes scanned over it as quickly as was humanly - or at least Aly-ly - possible. For the first time ever, Aly finally had real best friends and even a boyfriend at Hogwarts who had promised to write with her over the summer, and suddenly two months of being sad and lonely in the empty home in Welwyn Garden City didn't seem so sad, lonely, or empty. It was just like being at Hogwarts. Except everyone would be far away, and instead of whispering at night with her roommate and best friend or going on lovely flying dates at the Quidditch Training Pitch, she was writing letters.

Not so different, then.

Her mother Hesper kept owl treats in the right-side lower drawer of her home office's ever-polished, never-cluttered maple-wood desk, and Aly knew this well; she had often used to sneak her mother's owl treats when Hesper wasn't looking. (And then Hesper had complained about her owl getting too fat and happy. Well, clearly, it wasn't like Aly knew anything about that.) So when Aaron's owl Chae-rin had properly delivered her letter and Aly had taken the time to read it over twice, she clutched the letter to her chest, grinned at Chae-rin, and ran off into the bowels of the family home to fetch some treats for her.

The Ravenclaw then immediately started on a response letter, detailing to Aaron all that had happened in the three days since they'd last seen each other. She'd gotten home, of course, and... said hi to Becca and her parents, and... helped Becca in the garden, and... well, that was about it, but Aly Salinger didn't know the meaning of the phrase "short story" and could stretch anything into at least a page's worth of her scribbled, loopy print. She was about halfway through a combination of detailing all of the new summer flowers they were planting, while also reminiscing about the garden Aaron had planted just for her on the Hogwarts grounds, when she heard Becca call for her from below; it was time to water the black-eyed Susans, and so, without even thinking about putting away the letter and her own letter-writing materials, Aly abandoned them on her desk and made her way downstairs wearing a smile that only Aaron could put on her face.

Hesper wouldn't be home for hours, anyway. There was no reason to hide the materials.

Except there was. Because, unbeknownst to Aly, Hesper Livingston-Salinger got off work early that day because of a successfully completed Auror mission. A little reward for a job well done - and a newly big problem for Hesper's daughter.

Aly made her way back inside after assisting Becca, perhaps half an hour after she had left her room in the first place, humming a light oldies tune her father loved under her breath and tapping her fingers on her hip to the rhythm. Her mind was always dancing, even when her body couldn't really do so; the music, however, stopped abruptly when she pushed open the slightly-ajar door - Could've sworn I closed this thing, the drafts here really are strong - to find a dark-haired figure standing at Aly's desk by the window, facing away from her, looking down at something in its hands.

The brunette froze, all the blood draining from her face.

The figure turned and, of course, it was Hesper, who clutched the letter from Aaron in one hand and Aly's half-finished response in the other. Her white-knuckled grip on the quickly crinkling parchment told Aly all she needed to know. Hesper had read them, probably in their entirely, and she was not thrilled with her daughter.

"Mother, I can-"

Hesper cut her off. "Absolutely not. You will listen to me, and you will listen well. First, you send home reports of Acceptables in Potions. Then I hear from my coworkers that their children enjoyed some flower stall at a party and some Ravenclaw third-year girl helped them make flower crowns, because not only was she attending this party, she was helping to run it. All of this I could forgive, because I cannot entirely keep you from making the most of your time at Hogwarts instead of focusing on your grades, as much as I would like to. But Alyssa." She brandished Aaron's letter forward like a dagger, stabbing a blade into Aly's heart. At least metaphorically. "This?"

"I can explain, Mother," Aly rushed to say again, hoping beyond hope that whatever yarn she could spin would get her out of this. "I promise it isn't what it looks like-"

Again, Hesper's voice sliced into her own, effectively silencing the younger girl. "A secret boyfriend, Alyssa. My sister and I did enough in my day to know when it is what it looks like.

"I raised you better than this."

Those last words cut into Aly like the teeth of a Venomous Tentacula, and she winced, her gaze dropping shamefully to the ground. She wasn't actually ashamed to be dating Aaron, of course; he was her favourite, her adored Hufflepuff, her flower planter, her trouble-saver and trouble-maker and trouble wrapped up into one. But she couldn't exactly say that to Hesper. One whiff of trouble in her mother's nose, and she'd be shipped off to Siberia or something. Or - worse, Hesper was an Auror. Surely she knew how to make people disappear.

"I'm sorry, Mother," she protested softly, "but we're just friends, I swear-"

"If you think I believe that, you think me an idiot," Hesper snapped sharply. "Now go. You are to wash Becca's dishes for the evening meal. All of them. We will finish this conversation during dinner, and I can assure you, it will not be a happy one."

"Yeah, I got that," Aly muttered as she retreated from the room, casting a fearful glance behind her. If Hesper did enough poking around, she'd find plenty more from Aaron - the small box of notes under her bed, the dried flower from his garden, etc. Hopefully, she would be furious enough about the letter to leave well enough alone. And to not harm Chae-rin. Though, as Aly looked back, she suddenly noted the absence of the owl, and, more importantly, the absence of any owl-sized bulges underneath Hesper's cloak. Relief washed over her like a splattered droplet amongst a wave of nerves. At least Chae must have heard Hesper coming and taken off through the window. Glad I left that open! I just hope Aaron doesn't think I'm standing him up on a response...

Hesper's eyebrow shot up into a perfect black arch. "What was that?"

"Nothing!" Aly shouted behind her, beating a hasty retreat down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Just two hours later, Aly - whose hands were wrinkled from hours of dishwater and whose nerves had been building the entire time - found herself sitting at the dining room table with Hesper Livingston-Salinger and Benjamin Salinger, being served warm Cornish pasties by Becca, who of course had made them by hand while Aly washed and watched. Despite being hand pies, Aly had been raised on eating pasties with a fork and knife, and today was no different; all three purebloods picked up their silverware, customarily thanked the house-elf (who then disappeared into the other room, knowing better than to get involved with familial discipline), and began to eat.

Well, eat was a strong word. Benjamin dug in heartily, always hungry due to his perpetual metabolism of a lanky teenage boy; Hesper cut a single perfectly-proportioned bite, taking more time to slice it than to actually eat it; and Aly just picked at the crust with her fork, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But she wasn't about to drop it, of course.

Time passed in silence. Aly finally managed to force herself into a bite or two, whilst Benjamin finished his entire pasty and called politely to Becca for another, please. The house-elf had just vanished back into her kitchen, Benjamin's plate newly filled with another steaming pasty, when Hesper put down her fork and knife with a loud clang very unreminiscent of the proper pureblood façade she so always and so rigorously wore.

"We need to talk about this, Benjamin," she said to Aly's father as though Aly weren't even there. "You cannot simply drown your feelings about it in food and pretend the problem does not even exist."

Benjamin waved his fork lazily, his customary kind grin strangely gone from his face. "We already talked about it plenty," he sighed, using his knife to stab another piece of pasty. "You made your decision. Just because you're afraid of her reaction doesn't mean you get to drag me into this."

The hairs lining the back of Aly's neck stood up straight. "Reaction to what?"

"Drag you?" Hesper drawled. "She's your daughter, too."

"I know that," replied Benjamin with a mouth half-full of pasty, "but you're the one who's so dead set on this."

Aly gripped her fork tighter. "Set on what?"

"It's best for all of us," Hesper retorted. "Just because you're not willing to discipline your daughter doesn't mean I don't have to. Having a secret boyfriend is not something you get away wi-"

Well, she'd had just about enough of this. Aly slammed her fork and knife down on the table, forcibly leaping to her feet; the noise clanged loudly, cutting through Hesper's dialogue, and Aly's mother looked at her in open-mouthed shock. Before she could say anything, though, Aly dropped the knife and fork on the table and folded her arms.

"You're both talking about me like I'm not even here," she said fiercely. "If you're going to punish me, just do it and get it over with, because I owe Aaron a reply. But what you can't do is make me break up with him. He's a fantastic person, really sweet, and I'm fourteen now, and I think that's old enough to start dating, whether you like it or not! You can impose a 'my roof, my rules' law all you like, Mother, but when I'm at Hogwarts, I'm not under your roof. I can like who I please, thank you very much!"

The outburst was, of course, juvenile, but Aly was a pissed-off fourteen-year-old girl, so that, at least, made sense. What did not make sense - at least to Aly - was that, after that, Hesper's stony glare - which stayed deadpan, unblinking, for at least thirty seconds - soon broke into an almost devilish smile. She had never seen her mother smile like that before, like she knew something Aly didn't, and it put the fear of God into her.

"Of course, of course," Hesper said softly, putting down her fork and pulling her napkin out of her lap. The woman dabbed at her lips with the napkin before folding it neatly and placing it on her plate, all whilst Aly's heart pounded, beating wait, wait, wait. "My rules here are too difficult for you to follow. Or, more likely, they are easier for you to get around. As such, your father and I-"

"Don't bring me into this," grumbled Benjamin, taking another bite of pasty.

"I think it only best you go somewhere with far stricter rules and far less freedom to do as you please and break rules," Hesper continued without batting an eye. "Perhaps only then will you gain an appreciation for all we, as your parents, do for you, and all you have done to repay us, which is nothing short of nothing at the moment. Breaking rules, bad grades... I've heard you're out consorting with Muggle-borns, too. Your grandfather would never have allowed that when I was young. As such, you'll go to live with my cousin Jessica for two weeks."

Again Aly froze, but this time, it was mostly out of confusion rather than shock or fear.

Jessica? Who is Jessica?

Hesper Livingston-Salinger, despite keeping her maiden name in her married one, didn't talk much about the side of the family from which she had come. From what Aly knew, Aly's grandparents had practically - though not officially - disowned her mother when Hesper had failed to marry the man to whom they had tried to wed her, choosing to marry Aly's father instead. Aly knew she had an aunt and an uncle, and probably a few cousins, but she had never met them, nor did she know any of their names; she tried to rack her brains for a mother's cousin, but came up with nothing.

Likely seeing the confusion on her daughter's face, Hesper continued. "Jessica married Luke Alluring, of the pureblood Alluring bloodline, and kept her family as pure as possible, to my knowledge. They have a son about your age, Charles I believe, and from what little I hear, they've trained him well in pureblood customs and traditions. You will do well to learn from them, and they will teach you how to be the proper, good girl that I, clearly, have failed to raise. While there, you will have no communications with anyone from Hogwarts, period. I've already sent strict instructions to Jessica on how to conduct you while you are there. Oh-" Hesper's gaze was as steely as stone, staring straight into Aly's. "And you shall leave tomorrow morning. I shall take you there myself before work."

Two weeks at a pureblood training camp with crazy-strict, probably horribly mean and anti-Muggle distant family Aly had never heard of, with no owls allowed to Aaron or any of her friends.

Aly would have thrown something, if she'd been holding anything; instead, she used her foot to shove her chair backwards, and it rattled over the stone floor. "No. You're joking. Mother, please tell me you're joking for once in your life."

"It's already settled, Alyssa," her mother retaliated. "One of your classmates - the Hunt girl, I'm quite sure - is having her introductory society ball in just a few weeks, and though you have received an invitation, I'm not inclined to allow a daughter who behaves such as this on a regular basis to go to anything that represents our family in the society of wizardry. I am not saying you are to become a real member of pureblood high society at Jessica's - though Merlin knows that would be an unexpected and not unwelcome surprise - but you at least ought to learn some manners. At the very least, you ought to learn how to treat your mother and respect your elders! Lying, keeping things from us - this is not the behaviour of the daughter I raised."

Aly threw her arms up into the air, instead, having nothing to really throw and no chair to kick anymore. "You say that like you raised me! Becca raised me, not you! If there are any problems with the way I turned out, it's your fault for never being here. And I'm glad I'm not part of wizarding high society! It seems like a load of dragon dung fertiliser to me!"

This time, Hesper stood too, her slender arm flinging out to point to the door. "Room. Now."

"Hesper-"

"Benjamin, no. Alyssa, go pack your things. You leave in the morning. End of conversation."

Without much else to say, all Aly could do was let out an angry growl. She stomped off toward the door, stopping to kick her chair again; Aly was not an angry person by nature, but two weeks with strict remote family out of nowhere will do that to anyone. She spotted Becca hiding in the corridor as she exited the doorframe, no doubt eavesdropping on the conversation; the house-elf gave her a wide-eyed, furrowed-brow look of sadness, and Aly paused for the briefest of moments before stomping away up the stairs, her feet clomping angrily with every step.

This summer was going to be pitiful - sad, trapped, lonely. So much for a stellar year.