Chapter Text
Juleka fiddled with the sleeves of her cloak as she stood, staring into her cauldron and praying it would bubble. While she could see the thick green vapors floating overtop of her potion, the absence of the hissing and spitting emanating from her classmates’ mixtures indicated that Juleka had clearly messed up. Again.
She frowned at the mixture, wishing it was swirling uncontrollably instead of the contents of her stomach. Not that there was much in her stomach—she’d been too nervous about this class to have more than a small piece of toast at breakfast.
Juleka just…wasn’t good at potions. No matter how exact she tried to be with her measurements, something always went wrong. And right now…the consistency was definitely off. Memory potions were supposed to be wispy things, something you could barely catch hold of. There was a metaphor somewhere in there, probably. But Juleka wasn’t doing too well in her language class either.
She wasn’t really good at most kinds of magic either, except for maybe defensive spells, and…well, she had a vested interest in developing those skills. Because on any given day there were a slew of things Juleka worried over needlessly, and she only felt even somewhat comfortable when she had a way to take on every single one of them.
Juleka thought that she probably could be good at magic, if given the chance to sit down and learn things her own way. As a kid, she’d adored learning the theories of how to piece spells together. Of how to layer concepts on top of one another and weave them together into something she could cast. Even now, she loved the idea of creating change in the world.
Formal schooling just wasn’t her thing, and all the pressure riding on her this year wasn’t helping. If it wasn’t bad enough that she was stuck repeating a year while Luka had moved on with the rest of her old classmates, Juleka still couldn’t figure things out the second time around. The opaque green layer of potion coating the back of her spoon, as she gave it last attempt at stirring the potion, was nothing if not proof of that. Juleka sighed, and sank back down into her seat.
“Hmmm,” Mme Mendeliev said, sneering as she walked past Juleka’s cauldron. “Not enough thyme, Mlle Couffaine.”
Juleka stared down at her pleated skirt, mumbling apologies. The irony of Mme Mendeliev’s comment, since Juleka had taken significantly longer than the rest of her classmates to prepare the failed mixture, wasn’t lost on her.
A hand came to rest on Juleka’s wrist. “It’s okay,” Marinette said, but when Juleka looked up, her friend wouldn’t meet her eyes. Marinette had been avoiding that a lot lately, and Juleka wasn’t sure why. It made panic spike through Juleka again, despite the fact that Marinette was trying to comfort her. “It’s a lot better than your last try. You’ll get it right soon, I’m sure of it!”
Juleka pulled her wrist away, a little too roughly considering the way Marinette’s face fell. Juleka’s heart sank at the expression, but it was suddenly too much.
Because Marinette was one of the best in their year. She was so good at just…creating things. Her mind could find solutions to puzzles that nobody had even thought of trying to solve. And it wasn’t fair for her to also be one of the kindest people Juleka had ever met. For her to be the only person capable of making Juleka feel so…seen.
Juleka didn’t know why Marinette even paid her so much attention. Sure, they were seatmates in this class, and in history, but Marinette was friends with nearly everyone. Even the golden boy of the class, Adrien Agreste, could barely take his eyes off of her, despite the fact that Marinette could hardly get out a coherent sentence around him. Though, she’d been doing better at that recently, something that upset Juleka. For…some reason.
Alright, Juleka knew why. But it was an unreasonable thought, because there was no reason to think that Marinette would ever feel that way about her.
And yet, Juleka couldn’t help but hope.
Silence stretched out awkwardly between them. Juleka could feel the pressure building inside of her to say something, but words failed her.
Then Marinette glanced briefly up at her, something soft flashing in her blue eyes before she glanced away again. “Um…would you want to…come over later? To study? I’m…I’m really interested in those amulets you were making the other day, maybe you could explain how you picked the herbs that compliment each other best?”
Juleka softened, though a bit of guilt nibbled at her gut. She shouldn’t have gotten upset with Marinette to begin with. It wasn’t Marinette’s fault she was somewhat blindly optimistic, and couldn’t understand that things were different for Juleka. That things wouldn’t necessarily work out in Juleka’s favour, the way they always seemed to for Marinette.
At least Marinette was genuine. At least she was actually interested in what Juleka did and what she had to say. At least she wanted to be friends, even if that was all they’d ever be.
“That sounds fun,” Juleka said.
The smile that bloomed on Marinette’s face made Juleka’s stomach flutter.
The rest of the day was pretty typical. Which was to say that, for Juleka, it pretty much sucked.
She didn’t have a seatmate for the rest of her day—there had been a girl named Rose before, who had been her only other close friend aside from Marinette, but she had moved to another school. But if Juleka couldn’t be next to Marinette, then sitting alone was honestly what she preferred. That way, she didn’t have to make awkward small talk or play that game where she had to try and guess if people were speaking genuinely or not.
And, when she sat alone, Juleka got to listen. For someone who was near the bottom of the class in both academics and popularity, Juleka had a lot of knowledge.
She knew, for example, that today Chloé and Sabrina were fighting about dress colours for the upcoming winter ball. Of course, tomorrow it would be something different, something equally unimportant, and Juleka would be subjected to listening to the entirety of that pointless debate as well.
Juleka also knew the details of Alix and Kim’s next prank. She knew that Max had been working on charming a statuette sculpted of mystic clay into an autonomous being that could absorb and dispel knowledge or simply act as a substitute friend. She knew that Marinette, Alya and Nino were planning a secret mission to convince Adrien’s father to let him come to the dance. She knew that Adrien had been giving Chloé the cold shoulder, lately, and for once Chloé hadn’t been scheming to try and win back his attention. Almost as if she knew she’d done something wrong, which…seemed to good to be true.
Finally, Juleka knew that Lila, who sat two seats away from her in the back of their intermediate spellcasting class, dropped her smile the second she thought nobody was looking.
Everyone had thought that Marinette was a little nuts, at first, for the way she’d been accusing Lila from day one. The class saw Lila flash doe eyes and hide her mischief behind her sickly sweet voice, and they fell into line exactly where she wanted them to. Juleka was one of the few people who didn’t buy into it. Both because she figured Marinette wouldn’t dislike someone without reason, and because Lila made Juleka’s skin crawl.
The class as a whole seemed rather ambivalent about the whole Marinette and Lila rivalry. They didn’t choose sides, although sometimes Marinette got a little flack for going too hard on Lila, who seemed to love playing the victim. Aside from Juleka and Marinette, the only people who didn’t buy into Lila’s lies were Chloé—probably because she didn’t really trust anyone to begin with—and, lately at least, Adrien.
Because Juleka had noticed Adrien watching Lila. She saw how in their last class of the day his eyes bore into the back of Lila’s head, watching her every mood instead of paying attention to the lecture. And that was saying something, because telekinesis was one of Adrien’s favourite topics.
Juleka saw him press his lips together as Lila lied to the teacher about why she hadn’t been able to practice her levitation spell. Juleka then glanced beside Adrien, just in time to see Marinette roll her eyes. Then Marinette looked over at Juleka, and flashed a quick smile that made Juleka’s cheeks heat up, so that Juleka almost missed what happened next.
Adrien took a crystal from the pocket of his robes, and started carefully twirling it in his fingers. Were it anyone else, Juleka wouldn’t have been surprised. Crystal were a common way to pull pranks in class, since they were easy to charge up with specific spells ahead of time. Juleka herself kept a variety of protective crystals with her at all times, just in case something happened, and she didn’t have time to cast a spell from scratch. But Adrien wasn’t the type to cause trouble, if only because his father would be furious if he got caught. Plus, as far as Juleka knew, Adrien preferred casting spells in real-time.
But Adrien’s lips were unmistakably moving along with the turns of the crystal. Adrien probably wasn’t saying the words aloud. He was smart, and would avoid getting caught by something so silly. But sometimes just mouthing words allowed for extra focus when casting spells. Juleka would know—she’d tried everything to make her own spells more powerful.
The purpose of the spell soon became clear, when the plume Lila had been struggling to levitate suddenly fell back onto her desk, faster than air resistance should have allowed. Lila’s fingers gripped the bottom of her chair, her black polished nails digging into the wood. Her incantations grew louder and louder,
“There’s no need to shout, Lila,” Mme Bustier said. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
“Something's wrong,” Lila insisted.
Mme Bustier sighed. Juleka sometimes got the sense that she didn’t entirely believe Lila either, but as a teacher she had to play nice. She stared at the feather, skilled enough that she didn’t need incantations, then frowned. Her hands moved to hover over the Lila’s desk, feeling out the magic in the air. Her lips pursed.
“Alright, which of you tampered with the feather?”
If Juleka hadn’t already had one eye on him, she would have missed how subtly Adrien slipped the crystal back in his pocket. She would have missed the brief smile that flashed over his face before he schooled his features into a perfectly practiced innocence.
But Juleka saw it, and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Because…if Adrien of all people, Golden Child Adrien Agreste, who was beloved by all and wouldn’t hurt a fly…if he was pulling pranks on Lila…
Then Juleka was even more certain than before that she didn’t stand a chance with Marinette.
When class let out, Juleka was nervous. The way she always was before spending time alone with Marinette. She was convinced she would say something to embarrass herself, or make herself sound stupid, or accidentally offend Marinette. Even if it only took a few minutes of actually hanging out with Marinette to dispel that feeling. Even if Juleka knew the worries would be cast it aside by the warmth of Marinette’s smile, or the the thrill laughter. Until that happened, Juleka would worry.
Marinette lived only a few minutes from the school, and while normally she would have waited for Juleka so they could walk together, on Fridays Marinette had permission to leave school a few minutes early to help her parents out at the bakery. This week, Juleka knew, was soon after a holiday and wouldn’t be busy, which was probably why Marinette had invited her over regardless. Marinette’s parents were understanding, and would certainly let Marinette go study with her friend if they could spare her.
It was…suspicious, though, that Lila had begged to go to the bathroom the second Marinette had left. And that Adrien had claimed his father needed him home immediately, just a moment after that.
Juleka couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up.
She was anxious to get to Marinette’s but needed to get a message to her brother so he wouldn’t wait for her before portalling home. Then she got held up in the crowd of students rushing to get out the door. She tried to ignore the words of her classmates, focusing on pushing her way out, but a piercing voice cut through.
“How embarrassing,” Chloé said, “not to be able to afford a portal guard.”
Juleka glanced behind her to Alya standing beside Chloé, fuming. “Knock it off, Chloé. There’s nothing inherently dangerous about portalling.”
That was true, mostly. If you lost focus, you could get tangled in the middle of nowhere, and maybe never find your way out. But that was something that was easily avoided by bringing a talisman along, charmed to point you in the right direction. In most cases, there was no need to hire a professional to escort you.
There was the possibility of someone tampering with your journey, but…that was rare. That was the kind of magic that was terribly hard to carry out, so the only people who would really be targeted were those who had some sort of value attached to their capture. Which explained why Chloé and Adrien, for example, had portal guards. And likely why Lila always talked about having one, since apparently her mother was such an influential diplomat that it was absolutely necessary. Juleka had caught Lila hanging around in the portal hall before though, long after school had ended, until she assumed nobody was left watching her. And only then would she disappear. Alone.
“Even more embarrassing would be to walk, though,” Chloé said. Juleka balled her hands into fists to avoid going off on her. Thankfully, Alya had Marinette’s back anyway.
“Marinette lives five minutes away, Chloé. Why would she portal? And why do you even care?”
Chloé rambled on, insisting that Adrien was hers, and that Marinette was somehow trying to take him from her. Five minutes suddenly seemed like a very long time to Juleka. The ball in her stomach tightened. She couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong.
Juleka tapped the shoulder of the girl standing next to her. “Hey, Mylène? Would you mind doing me a favour?”
Mylène smiled. “You want me to tell Luka to go ahead without you?”
“Would you?”
“Of course!”
Juleka was surprised that Mylène had offered so readily. Maybe Juleka hadn’t made as much of an effort as she should have to get to know the rest of her classmates. But that was for another time.
“Thanks,” Juleka said, as she finally managed to make it out of the class. Then she was running through the hallways, out the door, and down the path to Marinette’s.
About a minute down the path, Juleka realized she’d been right to be worried. Though Lila was nowhere to be seen, Marinette was on the ground, clutching her ankle. And crouching next to her, was Adrien. His hand rested on her shoulder, and though Marinette’s back was to Juleka, Adrien’s face was clear as day. The tenderness in his expression clear.
Juleka ran the rest of the way to them, crouching down by Marinette’s other side. She probably should have announced her presence, because Marinette let out a small yelp and tried to help her, then winced, her hands tightening their hold around her ankle. Juleka could see that it already looked swollen underneath her knee-high sock.
“Easy,” Adrien said. He smoothed out a piece of Marinette’s skirt that had gotten bunched up, and Juleka prickled.
Marinette spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m fine.”
“Sorry,” said Juleka. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” She looked to Adrien briefly, whose expression had morphed into something unreadable, then back to Marinette. “What happened, anyway?”
“Oh, you know me.” Marinette released her grip on her ankle to wave her arms around while she spoke. Juleka found that particular quality of hers to be adorable, the way she could barely tell a story without animating it. But something seemed off about the gesture, now. Like she was overcompensating. “I’m just clumsy. Must not have noticed the vines in the way, that’s all.”
“Well…I guess let’s get you home?” Juleka said. “Do you think you can walk, or—"
“I’ve got this,” Adrien said. And without warning he stood, bent over, and scooped Marinette up into a princess carry. Marinette gave another yelp, and Juleka narrowed her eyes.
“Won’t your father notice you’re not home, Agreste?”
It wasn’t like Juleka couldn’t have carried Marinette home. Or…she thought she could have. Marinette wasn’t exactly heavy, and Adrien wasn’t exactly built. If he could carry her, Juleka was pretty sure she could have done the same. And maybe, he should have bothered to ask if Marinette even wanted to be carried. Though…Juleka doubted she minded. Most girls wouldn’t object to an objectively attractive blond boy carrying them home.
“Nope,” Adrien said. “I was supposed to have dueling practice today, but the class got cancelled at the last minute. I won’t be missed.”
Juleka had no choice but to keep her mouth shut and follow them back to Marinette’s, silently simmering.
When they entered the bakery, Sabine’s eyes widened at the sight of them, and she quickly ushered them through the back door and into their adjacent house. She led the way into the living room, where Adrien settled Marinette down onto the couch. Juleka made herself useful by stacking a few pillows on the coffee table for Marette to rest her ankle on while Sabine grabbed some ice. Then Juleka settled down on the couch beside Marinette, awkwardly trying to figure out what to do with herself. Marinette glanced at Adrien, then offered Juleka an awkward smile. Juleka forced herself to keep the frustration off of her face, smiling back in return.
“I don’t think anything’s broken,” Adrien said when Sabine returned. Marinette winced and squeezed Juleka’s hand as Sabine slipped off Marinette’s shoe and placed the ice on her ankle. As she got used to the feeling, Marinette’s grip relaxed, but she didn’t let go. Juleka’s heartbeat sped up.
“I’ve taken some advanced healing training,” Adrien continued, “and it seems like it’s just twisted. Maybe sprained. A simple healing balm should do the trick in a couple days. I’m sure she’ll be good as new by Monday.”
“Thank you, Adrien.” Sabine seemed impressed by his knowledge, which Juleka thought was silly. Juleka could have made the same assessment. Hell, she was pretty sure Marinette herself could have made that assessment. They’d all taken the same course. And it was information Sabine certainly already knew.
“No problem.”
Sabine sighed. “Well…it’s pretty slow today, so I don’t think I need to go back and help Tom, really. But if you kids would like to stay here and keep Marinette company…”
Juleka was about to agree, when Adrien spoke over her. “Actually, Juleka and I have a project to work on.”
Marinette frowned, turning to Juleka. “I thought you were studying with me today.” Juleka hoped she wasn’t imagining the disappointment in her voice.
“It was a last-minute project for our scrying class.” Adrien interjected again, before Juleka could argue. He named the only class the two didn’t share with Marinette. His eyes flashed with something Juleka couldn’t interpret. “It’s important.”
Juleka wasn’t sure why she didn’t just refuse, but something had piqued her interest. The way he’d interfered with Lila today, the way he’d followed Marinette home…There was something going on, and Juleka needed to get to the bottom of it.
“He’s right,” Juleka whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Marinette squeezed Juleka’s hand, then she blushed, as though she hadn’t realized she was still holding it, and quickly let go. Juleka tried not to be too disappointed. “How about you come by tomorrow, instead?”
“I’d love to.”
Juleka and Adrien said their goodbyes to Marinette and her parents, then set out back toward the school. Adrien stopped after a few feet, and glanced back longingly at the bakery, then shook his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes.
He looked over at Juleka with a determined glint in his eyes. “I think we need to talk.”