In the Shadow of the Future - unhipdepression (2024)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

I opened the door. “You wanted to see me, Professor?” As I spoke, I knew instantly my voice wasn’t my own. It was deeper, huskier, like I had a sore throat.

The woman before me turned around. I would recognise her anywhere. She had deep brown hair streaked with grey, hexagonal shaped glasses, and a messy bun with several quills sticking out of it; she was my Aunt – Professor Spindle.

She smiled at me – an empty smile, one that I used to mistake for genuine warmth and concern for my wellbeing, but in hindsight I had learned was a smile she used only for when she wanted something from you. Every fibre of my being screamed at me to run, but my body did not listen. Instead, it stood its ground. My heartbeat was steady, and normal.

“Hello, my darling,” she greeted me “How are you?”

I took a step into her office, another step closer to her. Run, I pleaded with myself please, just run!

“I’m fine. I’ve just come from Professor Ingram’s beastology class. We learned about demiguises. Did you know that demiguise fur is used to make invisibility cloaks? Ingram let us make a bracelet out of some.” I hold my wrist out for Professor Spindle to inspect, but there’s nothing there. Nothing that I can see, at least. “It’s invisible, though.” I chuckle.

Professor Spindle beams brightly at me. The sight makes my stomach churn. Please, get out of here! I continue to mentally plead with myself, but I don’t listen. I continue like nothing is wrong.

“That’s very kind of her! Have you thought more about what you would like to do when you leave school?”

“Yes,” I answer, though in reality I haven’t given it a second thought. “I want to go to Australia. There’s a program in Sydney for young Wizards and Witches to study the Defensive Arts, as well as patrol the outback for beasts which might threaten muggles.”

“That sounds marvellous. Would you like some tea?”

I nod, and take a seat in her office. As she busies herself with the tea set, I look around. It’s filled with strange artefacts – diagrams of beasts and plants, several different specimens pinned in frames, a singular eye ball floating in a jar of amber liquid, a withered hand which had a label tied to the pinkie finger saying DO NOT TOUCH in capital letters. Every surface was crammed with books, sheaths of parchment, and hasty notes. The walls themselves were chalk boards, and Professor Spindle had several running theories and equations scrawled onto them.

This office looked nothing like her one at Hogwarts. In comparison, her Hogwarts office had been bare. There had been few artefacts, barely any notes of research. Nothing that contained the real essence and personality of Professor Agatha Spindle.

She placed a cup of tea before me, and I eagerly took a sip. “How was your day?” I asked.

“Oh, it was fine…” she said, still half in thought.

“What happened?”

My Aunt sighed, and discarded her own cup of tea. “Well…how much have the Professor’s taught you about the Unforgiveable curses?”

Mentally, I felt my hair stand on end. RUN!

But I did not move. “Just the basics,” I answered. “Like what the three curses are, what they do…why do you ask?”

Behind her glasses, my Aunt’s eyes began to shine wildly. “Because,” she breathed excitedly “I think I may have come up with a counter curse to them.”

I place my cup and saucer back down on the table with a clatter. “Really?” I gasped, eyes wide with awe “That’s amazing! Thing of how many lives you could save!”

But just as quickly as it came, my Aunt’s smile disappeared. “Yes…it could have. Unfortunately I’m at a cross roads with it.”

“How so?” I asked, hungry for this information.

“Well…there’s no real way for me to…to test whether the counter curse is effective. Not without casting an Unforgiveable on someone.”

A second lingers between us. The taste of tea turns sour in my mouth as I realise why she must have asked me here. “You want me to help with your experiments.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Oh, don’t sound so morose. Think of all the good we’d be doing! Like you said, the lives it would save.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I tried to predict her reaction if I told her no. It wouldn’t be pretty. At most, I’d get a week’s silent treatment. Maybe even ‘forget’ my birthday if she was annoyed enough.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” I said slowly “but I don’t think I would be able to help you.”

Professor Spindle leaned her head to one side and gave me a puzzled look. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I said, sticking to my guns. My palms began to sweat. “Couldn’t one of the other Professors help you?”

Sighing, Professor Spindle disregarded my question completely. “And here I was, thinking you wanted to be remarkable like your mother was.”

I felt like a dagger had been twisted through my heart. “I do!” I protested “but I…I don’t think that…”

“It’s alright. I know I can’t force you to do it. I just…I hoped I would have an ally in my research. I know it’s risky, but that’s alright. I shouldn’t have expected such help from a – a teenager.”

She turned her back to me and began leafing through some papers on her desk.

Biting my lip, I spoke up. “What…what Unforgiveable would you cast?”

“The Imperius curse. Nothing that would cause pain. Or death. Although, if the experiments proved successful, we could move on to the others…”

I knew I had a choice. Professor Spindle was truthful, at least, when she said that she could not force me into helping her against my will; but I would be stupid to think that there would not be repercussions for helping her. She was very good at getting what she wanted, that way.

“Promise?”

Professor Spindle grinned at me from where she stood in the room. “Cross my heart.”

“Well…” I fidgeted with my hands, uncomfortable with the answer I was about to give “Ok then.”

Professor Spindle’s smile grew wider. “Excellent! You won’t regret this, you made the right choice, really…” she began scrabbling around for a quill and a clean piece of parchment.

“When will we start?” I asked.

“Well, no time like the present, right?” Professor Spindle’s eyes shone at me from behind her glasses, the light from the fire casting dark shadows around them. My stomach twisted into knots, but I didn’t protest.

I sat frozen in my seat, as she pulled out her wand. “Are you ready?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I summoned all the courage I had. “Yes.”

“Excellent.” She grinned at me. Then, without hesitating, flicked her wand towards me. “Imperio!”

Chapter 2: Hot Chocolate

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I woke up screaming, covered in a film of sweat. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, to my surroundings, before I realised I wasn’t in Spindle’s office. I was at home, in my bedroom, in Professor Hecat’s house. As the scream died on my tongue, I wiped the moisture away from my eyes. My hair was plastered to my forehead. As I swung my legs out of my bed, the door to my bedroom burst open, spilling amber light into my room.

“Violet? Are you ok?” Professor Hecat hobbled as fast as she could into my room with her silver cane, clutching her wand in her free hand. A ball of orange light followed closely behind her.

“Yes, I think so,” I croaked. The scream had left my voice hoarse “it was a nightmare.”

“A - a nightmare?” Professor Hecat exclaimed - though she didn’t sound angry; just relieved. “Thank Merlin.” She said, lowering her wand. I watched as she stuffed the wand into the pocket of her dressing gown, and looked around the room.

It was a box room, the same I’d slept in last summer when I stayed with her, but now that I saw Professor Hecat as family, I’d allowed more of the junk and spare boxes to be cleared away. I’d decorated the walls with posters and letters from my friends, and a pennant with my house emblem on it.

“Are you alright?” Professor Hecat asked, taking a small step closer to me. She looked me up and down, and all I could think was how much of a sorry state I must have looked.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a grin “I’m fine. Really. It just caught me off guard.”

“Ok…” Professor Hecat looked at me hesitantly, as if unsure whether she should press the matter or not.

“I’m ok, I promise.” I said again.

“If you say so.” Professor Hecat says softly turning back towards the door “although, I was going to make some hot chocolate since I’m awake now. Would you care to join me?” she flashes me a knowing grin over her shoulder.

I smile back. Professor Hecat was the worst cook I’d ever met, but she did make a delicious hot chocolate. “Alright, then.” I said, taking her up on her offer. “Let me just get my dressing gown on.”

Hecat closes the door behind me, and I hear her head downstairs to the kitchen. Before I go downstairs, I wipe my face with a cold, wet cloth and comb my hair. Once I’ve wrapped myself in my pale yellow dressing gown, I go downstairs, barefoot.

As I reach the kitchen, Professor Hecat is already pouring the saucepan of hot, creamy chocolate into two large floral teacups. Using her magic, she levitates them over to the table and places them down – one at her chair, and one at mine.

“Thank you,” I said, cupping the drink in my hands. I didn’t realise how cold and clammy they were until I felt the heat from the porcelain seep into them.

“So,” Professor Hecat says after taking a sip. “Would you like to talk about your nightmare?”

I take a long sip of my own drink before deciding to answer. “It was about Professor Spindle.” I confessed.

Professor Hecat raised her eyebrows “Really?”

Her surprise was warranted – despite everything that my estranged Aunt had put me through earlier this year I’d not had a single nightmare about her. There were times I still felt betrayed and hurt by her, but I’d never dreamed about her. I didn’t fear her.

How could I fear her? When I recall my Aunt, I don’t think of her as scary – or even evil. It was hard to, when I’d see the desperation in her eyes. A secret part of her that had ached to revive her sister (my mother) from the dead. She was nothing but a sad, lonely woman.

I kept explaining this to people, like Poppy and Sebastian, and they just looked at me as if I was putting on a brave face. Now it was nearly the end of summer, and I think people now more or less believed me that I was telling the truth. Or at least, that I’d moved on.

The only thing I did fear about Professor Spindle was that there were times when I found her too relatable. She’d wanted desperately to protect those she loved, no matter the cost, and I had done the same. Would there ever be a time, a circ*mstance, when I found myself driven to that same edge of madness?

“What was it about?” Professor Hecat asked softly.

“We were talking. I think we were at Hogwarts? I can’t remember,” I said, rubbing my eyes as if I could summon the dream back to the front of my brain “I just know that it ended when she casted the Imperious Curse on me.”

Professor Hecat raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything, as she took another sip of her hot chocolate.

“I don’t know what it means.” I said truthfully, also taking another sip.

“Dreams don’t necessarily have to mean anything,” Professor Hecat said “Remember what Dr Bulstrode told you. Sometimes dreams are just a way of preparing our brains for situations that might scare us. Almost like an immune system.”

Dr Bulstrode was a middle aged woman, whose hair had already turned grey. She used to be at Hogwarts with Professor Hecat. For the rest of my sixth year at Hogwarts, Hecat and I had debated furiously about whether or not I needed therapy. I said I didn’t, and that I had no problem just forgetting about it.

She’d responded by saying something about how if you forgot about wounds, they became infected – and we should treat mental health the same way. Eventually, we came to a compromise. I would do a month of therapy in the summer, when I was away from my friends. I wanted to spend as much time with them as I could for the moment. Especially Sebastian, who’d sent me an owl nearly every day since the summer holidays began.

“I’m not sure,” I said “In the dream I wasn’t scared until she’d actually casted the curse on me. I seemed to trust her…”

“Maybe it’s not Professor Spindle you’re afraid of.” Professor Hecat said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

I offered her small grin. “Go on then,” I said “You clearly have a theory.”

“Well,” she said slowly “Don’t you think it’s…coincidental, that you’re having this dream considering where we’re going tomorrow?”

I chuckled “I’m not afraid of Mrs Mason, or that stupid orphanage.”

A few weeks ago, as school ended for the year, Professor Hecat had discovered, by looking though Spindle’s photo album, that it was very likely I had a brother. An older brother.
I say likely, though, because we were struggling at the minute to confirm he even existed. Apart from the photos of him and my mother, there was no other record of him – no birth (or death) certificates registered with the Ministry of Magic, or even the muggle records.

We’d tried looking up my father, but there were over one thousand registered Edward Finch’s in the London area alone; a needle in the haystack, if there ever was one. Professor Hecat was ready to search through every one of them. She had lots of experience with things like this from her time as an Unspeakable at the Ministry, but I told her not to. My father was not a man I ever wanted to meet.

Professor Hecat agreed, even though this meant we were at a dead end. There were no other Spindle’s alive. My maternal grandmother, the penultimate Spindle, had died three years ago. It seemed that Agatha Spindle was the only one of her family left – aside from me, who’d she’d tried to kill, and a potential brother she’d neglected to mention.

With no other leads, Hecat suggested we go speak with Mrs Mason, the cantankerous woman who ran the orphanage where I was raised. I had no desire to go back there, but I couldn’t turn down another lead.

“I know,” Professor Hecat said, smiling. It was nice of her to say that, instead of calling me on my bluff. I hadn’t been afraid of that orphanage – not until I’d seen the wizarding world and realised I’d lost out on four precious years of being a part of it. If Fig had not come along when he had…I shuddered to even think what would have happened to me, where I would have ended up.

“It’s alright to be nervous, though.” Hecat said, taking my empty cup from my hand. “Anyway, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. You should go back to bed and get some more sleep.”

“Ok,” I said, standing up and stretching. If I couldn’t get back to sleep, I would just read for a bit. Sadly, I’d already done all the homework that had been set for the summer.

“Have you packed your trunk?” Professor Hecat asked. Even though there was two weeks of summer left, I was going to stay with Poppy and her grandma until school started. Professor Hecat needed to go to Hogwarts and set some things up for the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

“Mostly. I just have to decide what books I’m taking with me. Oh, I also need some new robes.” Annoyingly, I’d grown out of the school robes I’d had for two years, which meant I had to buy a set just for this year. I thought it was a waste, but I needed them. My old robes were ankle and wrist biting.

Perhaps I could give the new robes to Anne once I graduated. Now that Anne was cured, and had passed her O.W.L.s with flying colours, she was in her sixth year of Hogwarts. She was a year behind, but she insisted she didn’t mind. She said she likes being the oldest in class for a change.

“Do you need some money?” Hecat asked.

“No, I should be fine. I can make my first vault withdrawal!” I said excitedly. Professor Fig had left me some money, and I finally had my own Gringotts account. It would be fun to see Gringotts again, and to even visit Diagon Alley for the first time.

“Ok then,” Professor Hecat chuckled, kissing me on the forehead. I had to stoop down slightly, because somehow I’d grown four inches taller than her. “Goodnight, Violet. Don’t stay up too late, reading.” She smiled at me knowingly.

“I won’t,” I said, smiling back.

Chapter 3: Where The Acceptance Letters Went

Chapter Text

The orphanage where I had grown up had not changed at all. The bricks were still grey, the roof was still slanted and looked at risk of caving in. Everything about it seemed to leech colour from its environment to the point where even the grass looked grey and wilted.
To my surprise, it was exactly as I remembered it. Nothing had changed at all, in the two years I’d been gone.

“Are you ready?” Professor Hecat asked, walking up the garden path.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Yes.” I tried to put on my brave face, but Hecat could see right through it. Taking my hand in hers, she squeezed it tightly.

This morning, while eating breakfast, I’d been chatting enthusiastically to Hecat about how I couldn’t wait to see Poppy again, and finally meet her Grandma. I kept talking, even as we travelled by floo flames to our destination; but now, as I stood in the shadow of my past, I felt my stomach lurch uncertainly.

“I promise you, Violet,” Professor Hecat said “You have nothing to fear. Think of all the scarier things you’ve tackled – like dragons, and criminals!”

I smiled back at Professor Hecat. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

“It’s no problem,” she said, knocking firmly on the door “Nothing like a good mystery to keep you occupied. Perhaps that can be my new hobby in retirement.”

I chuckled “Yes, solving mysteries, bird watching, and watercolours. Sounds like a thrilling night in.”

Last year, at the House Cup ceremony, Professor Hecat announced she planned to retire; she had wanted to see me through my last year at Hogwarts, but she said she just couldn’t keep up anymore. Her leg, which she’d injured the spring before I started as a fifth year, was getting worse and worse. She struggled to get up and down all the stairs at Hogwarts without being in pain.

I would miss her terribly this year, but at the same time I knew it was for the best. She deserved to rest and relax – though there were times when I thought she maybe regretted her decision to retire. She might look old, but in reality she was no older than Professor Black, who’d been a peer of hers at school.

When I pressed for details, she only said that she couldn’t give details, since the “injury”, as she described it, occurred when she was working as an Unspeakable for the Ministry of Magic. The job was frustratingly named for its clandestine nature. No one knew what an Unspeakable did, or worked on, as they were all forbidden to talk about it. All she was at liberty to say, was that she had a Time Curse put on her.

I thought it was very sad, knowing that your life would be shortened because you’d aged fifty years in a day; but Professor Hecat was adamant she had made peace with her fate. Meanwhile, I tried not to dwell on how many years I had left with her.

“Perhaps I could open a detective agency,” Professor Hecat smiled wistfully, as if she could imagine it. “And solve the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle.”

I smiled at her, but before I could respond, the door to the orphanage had swung open. I was expecting one of the children, or maybe a maid, to answer – but sadly, it was Mrs Mason herself. Her appearance, like the house, had also not changed.

Her hair was slate grey, and pulled back into a tight bun. Her chin was pointy, and her mouth was set into a permanent scowl.

Mrs Mason’s eyes flashed, however, when she saw us standing on the doorstep. Her scowl slackened a little bit, which was the only sign of surprise I could detect on her face.

“I can’t believe it,” she gasped.

“I know,” I mumbled “you said not to come crawling back, and I’m not, I – ”

Mrs Mason looked me up and down, as if seeing me for the first time. “Violet?” she said “What are you doing here with Dinah?”

I frowned “Dinah? How do you know Professor Hecat?”

Mrs Mason pursed her lips together “We were in the same year at school together.” She said in the same tone of voice you might hear from someone announcing they had head lice. “The years haven’t been kind to you, clearly, Dinah.”

I looked between Mrs Mason and Professor Hecat, until at last a look of recognition dawned across Professor Hecat’s face. “Mary Mason?”

Mrs Mason glared. “Yes.” Her eyes darted back to me “If you’re returning this one, clear off. We don’t want people of your ilk loitering around here.”

I laughed – not because it was funny, but because I’d never heard anyone ever say anything like that to a pair of witches before. I’d heard some unsavoury things from people at Hogwarts, about letting halfbloods or muggle-born wizards and witches into the school, but I’d never heard people wanting to shun witches and wizards.

“Though I ‘spect if you’re returning her she must be a squib, eh?” Mrs Mason continued “Or was she just more trouble than she was worth?”

I let out another laugh, but this time before I could respond, Professor Hecat spoke up. “You don’t read The Daily Prophet anymore, do you?” she said icily “because otherwise you would know that this girl here,” she pointed to me “saved Hogwarts. Saved the wizarding world, from a rebellion of goblins.”

Mrs Mason raised an eyebrow, looking at me.

“This girl has done more in two years at Hogwarts than I have ever done in my career as an Unspeakable.” Professor Hecat continued “so watch your tongue.”

Mrs Mason didn’t reply – only sniffed. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Information,” Professor Hecat said, her tone turning civil once more “If you please.”

“Hmm,” Mrs Mason said, standing aside “Alright then. Come on in.”

We followed her inside the building, and headed straight to her office. Everything was just as I remembered it. There were no children in sight, but I saw shoes and socks, threadbare toys and ripped picture books scattered around as we walked down the corridor to her office.

“Where are the children?” I asked.

Mrs Mason shot me another look. She was most likely resisting the urge to tell me to shut up, or yell at me for speaking when not spoken to. “Gone. We’ve closed down.”

“Closed down?” I asked, a thrill of joy rising inside me “Why?”

“What does it matter to you?” Mrs Mason shot back “No doubt you’re dancing with joy at the news.” We entered her study, and Mrs Mason sat down behind her desk. The same portrait of Queen Victoria was still hanging above the fireplace.

“Play nice, Mary.” Professor Hecat said, sitting down on a chair in front of the desk. I took the free seat next to her, much to Mrs Mason’s disdain.

“Tell you what,” Mrs Mason said, retrieving a silver cigarette case from her desk drawers. “How about a trade? You ask a question, I ask a question.” She struck a match and lit the cigarette, inhaling deeply, before blowing the plumes of smoke through her nose like a dragon.

Professor Hecat paused before responding, but eventually nodded, agreeing.

“I’ll answer yours first, Violet. We’re being closed down because of her majesty, over there,” she pointed to the portrait of Queen Victoria. “Some tosh to do with violating child labour laws,” she shook her head “which is funny, considering they sent them straight from here to the work house.”

A shiver ran down my spine. I’d heard enough stories over the years of the horrors of the work house. Many people would rather die than go there – many had chosen to, instead. In fact, when I imagined Azkaban, I imagined it to be a lot like those places.

“Exactly,” Mrs Mason said, noting my reaction. She herself almost seemed remorseful. “Muggles are known for a lot of bad things, but those work houses are the worst,” she took another drag of her cigarette “the prisons are barely any better, I heard.”

“Wait,” I said, blinking “so then why aren’t you in trouble? With the law, I mean.”

“Uh-uh,” Mrs Mason said, wagging her finger at me “My turn to ask a question.”

I rolled my eyes, annoyed. Luckily, Mrs Mason didn’t notice it as she looked at Professor Hecat. “So what happened to you, Dinah?” she asked, taking another drag on her cigarette “You look like you’ve aged a hundred years.”

“Only fifty,” Professor Hecat said stiffly “I was affected by a Time Curse during my time as an Unspeakable. That is all I’m at liberty to say.”

“Oooh,” Mrs Mason laughed “An Unspeakable? You did go far.”

“I did. Now for our turn,” Professor Hecat said stoically “about fifteen, maybe sixteen years ago, a man sold Violet to you. His name was Edward Finch. What do you know about him?”

Mrs Mason frowned, and tapped the ashen end of her cigarette onto the carpet below. “Edward Finch? Merlin’s beard, Dinah, now you’re really testing my memory,” she paused as if thinking carefully about it “He just came in one day, said the mother had died and he didn’t want to look after her anymore. Said she was bright, could already read and write somewhat. Gave him a guinea for her.”

I grimaced at the thought of being sold for a single guinea. I also knew, from what Professor Spindle told me, that my mother was not dead when he sold me – he had killed her, afterwards, when she discovered what he’d done.

“Didn’t leave an address or any forwarding details, if that’s what you’re after.” Mrs Mason said, stubbing her cigarette out on the bare wood of her desk.

“It’s not, actually.” Professor Hecat said “We’re looking for – ”

“Uh,” Mrs Mason said “My turn for a question.”
Professor Hecat bristled at Mrs Mason’s abruptness. She was not used to being spoken to in this manner. Mrs Mason looked between me, and Professor Hecat. “What happened to that other one who fetched you two years ago? What was he called, again? Professor Fitz?”

“Fig,” I said sourly, glaring at her “He was called Professor Fig. He died, helping me destroy the goblin rebellion.”

“Hm,” Mrs Mason said, devoid of any emotion. “Go on then, your turn.”

“We’re looking for Violet’s brother.” Professor Hecat said impatiently “Did her father mention a sibling at all? An older brother? He would have been about three years older than her.”

“A brother?” Mrs Mason echoed, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Hm…no, he didn’t.”

Professor Hecat gritted her teeth “You better not be lying to me, Mary. If I find out your lying to me I’ll – ”

“You’ll what?” Mrs Mason interrupted, tauntingly “Duel a squib? You’d have a job on, Dinah. I burnt that blasted wand of mine years ago for kindling. Only thing it was good for.”

My eyes widened in shock at Mrs Mason’s confession. Last year, when Professor Spindle had snapped my old wand, I’d mourned the loss. It felt like losing an arm, a vital part of myself. I could never imagine willingly throwing it into a fire.

I felt the threat in Professor Hecat’s voice as she said “You think I care about that? About duelling equally? I promise you, Mary, if you’re lying I’ll show you exactly how I got Time Cursed.”

“Alright,” Mrs Mason snapped “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m telling you the truth, anyhow.”

“So he mentioned nothing about a brother? A sibling, of any sort?” I said, my hope dwindling.

Mrs Mason shook her head “None at all. He sold you to me, and then that was it.”

“Oh,” I said, more because I felt like I was expected to say something.

“How did you hurt your leg, Dinah?” Mrs Mason asked, gesturing to the silver cane by Professor Hecat’s chair.

“I took a bludger to the knee while referring a match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor some years ago.”

Mrs Mason smiled “Did Gryffindor win, at least?”

“By three hundred points.” Professor Hecat said resentfully.

Mrs Mason looked at me. “I was in Gryffindor, myself. What about you?”

“Ravenclaw…” I said slowly, as something dawned upon me “Wait. You and Hecat went to school together?”

“Yes, well done!” Mrs Mason laughed patronisingly. “She’s a little slow for a Ravenclaw, isn’t she?”

Stung by her words, I stood up sharply “Actually, what I was going to say, was that if you went o Hogwarts…then you knew about the wizarding world all along.”
Mrs Mason went quiet. I continued. “So you must have been receiving my acceptance letters. Correct?”

Mrs Mason couldn’t read – or at least struggled to, which is why she hated me. She always got me to read and write her correspondence for her…I saw no letters addressed to me in the time I was here; but if the letter had been sealed with wax, and embossed with the crest of Hogwarts, she would have known what it was.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Mrs Mason said curtly.

“Mary,” Professor Hecat said gravely “Answer her. Now.”

Mrs Mason sighed. “Fine.” She looked at me. “I took the letters, alright? Burned ‘em all up to. You got ten your first year, and then they kept sending you on every year, along with a list of all the stuff you’d need.”

“Why,” I said, unable to control the fury in my voice “Did you keep them from me?”

“Does it matter why?” Mrs Mason asked “You’re a mudblood. The way I see it, I was doing you a favour sparing you from the wizarding world.”

I whipped my wand out from my coat pocket. “I’m not a mudblood, you miserable old cow!” I shouted, before pointing my wand at her. A searing white flash and a loud POP sound erupted from the tip of my wand – the first time I’d used Ancient Magic for a long time.

When the smoke cleared, Mrs Mason’s side of the desk was empty – she’d disappeared!

“Oh no,” I said, my stomach tightening “Oh no, no, no, no!” I looked desperately at Professor Hecat, who had gone white as a sheet. She stood up, craning her neck around Mrs Mason’s side of the desk.

“I killed her!” I exclaimed, my heart hammering “Oh god, I’m going to Azkaban. I’ll never get to graduate or anything. I – ”

Professor Hecat burst out laughing. Surprised, I looked up at her. She was laughing so hard, she was bent double, clutching her side.

“Professor!” I shouted “This isn’t funny! Even if I’m allowed to do magic outside of school, I just made Mrs Mason disappear!”

Grabbing her wand, Professor Hecat pointed at something on the floor. “Levioso,” she said, still chuckling. Levitating in midair was a warty, brown, and green toad. It had a rotund little belly, and bulging, yellow eyes. It let out a loud, resonant croak.

“Is that – ”

“Mary Mason!” Professor Hecat cackled, laughing harder this time. She wiped her eyes as small tears fell out of them.

“Oh, Merlin…” I sighed, relieved she wasn’t dead. “What do we do with her?”

“Grab a box, Violet. We’ll have to take her with us and undo the spell on her.”

I leaned against the desk, shaking my head. “Look on the bright side,” Professor Hecat said “At least this visit wasn’t a total waste! You could take her to Hogwarts as a familiar.” I laughed. We found an old hat box to put Mrs Mason in, and after poking some holes into the lid, we tucked her into the box. She was frowning the entire time. Professor Hecat was still laughing about it by the time we got home.

Chapter 4: Wisteria Cottage

Chapter Text

After dinner that night, while I was making sure I had everything packed for Poppy’s, Professor Hecat knocked on the door to my bedroom.

“Come in,” I said, sifting through my ever growing pile of books. Now that I had my own money for books, I’d been more than self-indulgent; and despite that Hogwarts had an impressive library, I wanted to take a few of my own books with me.

The books were such a great source of pride to me, I’d even gone as far to write my name on the front pages in all of them, in my best handwriting. The problem was knowing I still had to buy this year’s set of spell books, so I had to leave room for them when Poppy and I visited Diagon Alley in the coming weeks.

Professor Hecat opened the door. “All packed, yet?”

“Not quite,” I said, looking down at all the books I’d placed on my bed “I’m still trying to choose what books to take with me.”

Professor Hecat smiled gently, and walked into the room. “How are you feeling?”

I looked up at Professor Hecat. “I’m ok. Excited, actually,” I said, smiling “Poppy’s told me so much about her Grandma. She sounds as fierce as a dragon.”

Professor Hecat nodded as she listened. “Violet, about earlier today…”

I grimaced “Did the spell reverse itself?” I asked, scared there would an angry Mrs Mason waiting for me downstairs.

“Hm? Oh, no! No, Mary is still very much a frog. She looks quite peaceful out by the koi pond, actually.”

Not knowing what to do with Mrs Mason, we decided to bring her home with us. I’d tried several times to undo the spell, but nothing I did seemed to work – Hecat told me to relax and rest. It might not be working due to exhaustion, she’d said. I hoped she was right. The last thing I needed was Mrs Mason (frog or not!) living with me and Professor Hecat forever.

Hecat promised to work on reversing the affects while I was at Hogwarts this year. In the meantime, I’d conjured her a little birdhouse by the koi pond – it was supposed to be a little house she could live in, while she was a frog. In truth, I’d avoided her since then. I was probably the last person she wanted to see.

“I can stay here instead of going to Poppy’s,” I offered again “It doesn’t feel right for me to leave you cleaning up my messes.”

“Don’t be so daft!” Hecat said, shaking her head “The wizarding world has faced worse than accidental frog-turning. She’ll be fine, I promise. You deserve to go and have fun with your friends.”

“Well, if you insist.” I smiled, as I finally decided I would leave all my books here – this way I would have room for new ones from Flourish and Blotts!

“Violet,” Hecat said “about your brother…”

I felt my shoulders slump. “Oh, right. What about him?”

“Well…you seem awfully…okay about it all. Do you want another appointment with Dr Bulstrode?”

I chuckled “No, Professor.”

“Would you like to talk to me about it?”

I turned towards Professor Hecat. She had a look of thinly veiled concern on her face. Clearing a space on my bed, I sat down. “The thing is Professor…I’ve been thinking…I don’t really…care about finding my brother.”

Professor Hecat’s eyebrows shot upwards. “I – I’m sorry, did I hear you right? You’re not bothered about finding your brother?”

I nodded. “It’s just that – well – practically speaking…we have no leads,” I said “And there’s no real records of him, apart from a few photos. Photos which, by the way, don’t even confirm he’s a relative, which means he either never existed or…or he doesn’t want to be found.”

Professor Hecat blinked at me silently. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t considered that. I assumed since they were in Spindle’s album…”

“I know. I thought the same. But, it also occurred to me…Professor, is it possible for a family with one muggle parent and one wizarding parent to have children that are both?”

“Oh yes, quite. Quite a few half-blood families have a mix of muggle children and wizarding children. Why?”

“Well…let’s say he’s a muggle…he would have never been to Hogwarts.”

Professor Hecat raised a cynical eyebrow at me “Where are you going with this?”

“If he never went to Hogwarts then – well…what if he grew up with my father?” I looked down at my knees as I said it “We assumed that Professor Spindle had maybe taken him, raised him at Ilvermorny or something…but what if he just stayed with my father?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly “What if he’s turned into he sort of man who would beat a woman to death?”

“Oh, Violet,” Professor Hecat hobbled over to me, and sat down next to me on the bed. She hugged me tightly.

I smiled, embracing the warmth of Professor Hecat. “It’s alright, really, Professor…I just think I’d rather not…pursuit this further. I’m alright not knowing with who my brother is. Really.”

Professor Hecat held me at arms-length, studying my face intently. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I smiled “I have more than enough family now. I have you, Ominis and Poppy. Anne and Sebastian – ”

Professor Hecat grimaced at Sebastian’s name. Her disgust was apparent.

“What’s with that look?” I laughed “I thought you liked Sebastian?”

“Oh, I do…” Professor Hecat said “He’s a very sweet and devoted boy. It’s just…wouldn’t you rather courts someone more…well, just someone else?”

I couldn’t help laughing harder. “You don’t like my boyfriend?”

“No, I do, really!” Professor Hecat said “It’s just…I need someone who I can trust to keep you out of trouble this year. Merlin knows you won’t keep yourself out of it, and I won’t be there this year.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, squeezing her hand in mine “I’ve had enough adventure for a life time. This year will be boring. Average. Deliciously mundane.”

Professor Hecat smiled “I’m glad to hear that.” She heaved herself up from my bed and walked silently to the door; but as she reached it, she turned back. “I won’t push the issue of finding your brother. I’ll leave that up to you, but if you want help…you know where I am.”

*

The next morning, I was up bright and early. I’d used magic to levitate my trunk down the stairs, and I was double checking I had everything I needed, when I heard a little tap at the window.

Turning, I saw a little tawny owl tapping exasperatedly on the window pane with its beak. I recognised it instantly; it was Baldrick, Ominis’ owl he’d bought just before the start of summer. It was how Sebastian was able to send me an owl almost every day – he’d been working poor little Baldrick tirelessly!

I opened the window, and held out my arm for Baldrick. Happily, he hopped on. I took the letter from his beak, and he gave me a friendly little nip. “My poor darling,” I cooed “Here, have some water. If you’re lucky, I might have some snacks around here you can eat.” Baldrick perked up at the promise of food. He hopped happily off my arm, and waited patiently on the table while I poured him a cup of cold water.

Sebastian, Ominis and Anne were living together this summer, in Lower Hogsfield. Demetra Barley-Jones, a cousin of Sebastian and Anne’s, had been happy to take Ominis in for the summer. I had offered him the house in Oxford that Professor Fig had left for me, but he said he didn’t want to be alone. Anne also said she’d be spending time with Garreth in Cornwall, so Ominis could use her room when she wasn’t there.

I missed my friends terribly. I couldn’t wait to see them all again at Hogwarts – but a secret part of me also dreaded it. I didn’t want it to be my seventh and final year already; I had no clue what I was going to do after school…or if me and my friends would stay in contact. Part of me knew I was being ridiculous; they were practically my family, but I worried anyway.

“Are you ready?” Professor Hecat asked, coming in from outside.

“All packed and ready!” I grinned, looping my satchel over my shoulder “I’m ready when you are.”

“Good,” Professor Hecat reached up into a cupboard and fetched down a glass jar of floo powder. “Do you remember how to use it?”

“Of course I do,” I said. I’d used floo flames before, but only a handful of times. “Speak the name of the place you want to go clearly.” I said “Only an idiot could mess up using floo powder.”

“Just checking.” Hecat said. After I hauled my trunk into the fireplace, she began fussing over my hair and my appearance. “Just making sure you look spick and span. Don’t want Poppy’s gran thinking I’m a bad guardian.”

“You’re not,” I said, smiling. “I’ll see you at the sorting ceremony?” I said, stooping to hug her.

“You will. Be good, Violet. Don’t you or Poppy be getting into trouble, now.” She offered me the jar of floo powder.

“Trouble?” I snorted “I’ve never been in trouble. I just have poorly timed adventures.” I said, taking a handful of powder in my hands.

Hecat said nothing, just smiled. “Take care!”

“I will!” As I dropped the floo powder into the fireplace, I said “Wisteria Cottage!”

As I disappeared into a puff of smoke, I remembered that I’d left Sebastian’s letter to me on the kitchen table.

*

A moment later, I was spluttering and coughing, standing stooped inside a hearth. As the smoke began to clear, I saw two people standing in front of me; Poppy was only five foot four, so her stature made it impossible for me to no recognise her immediately.

The person standing beside her was only a few inches taller. I assumed that had to be her Grandma.

“Violet?” Poppy called out, wafting smoke away.

“It’s me,” I said, climbing out of the fireplace, blowing soot out of my nose “I feel like I’ve walked through a hundred chimneys.”

Poppy grimaced “Sorry, we don’t get many visitors to the cottage. Or at least not by floo flame.”

As the last of the smoke cleared, Poppy and I were able to get a look at each other. Poppy grinned from ear to ear, and threw her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. She didn’t mind that I was still covered in soot.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!” she squealed “I’m so excited! I have loads of activities for us planned.”

“Poppy,” said a gentle voice “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Oh! Right,” Poppy let go of me, and I got my first look at Poppy’s Grandmother. She was a formidable looking woman. Her grey hair was pulled back into a neat chignon. She had silver, half-moon spectacles perched on her nose, and her eyes were a brown colour very similar to Poppy’s. She had wrinkles, but did not seem to hide them or fuss over them. She wore them as if they were badges of honour, a testament to her wisdom.

“Violet,” Poppy said clearing her throat, grandly “this is my Grandmother, June Potter. Gran, this is Violet Finch.”

Poppy’s Gran smiled broadly at me, and held her hand out towards me “It’s lovely to meet you at last, Violet! Poppy has told me an awful lot about you.”

“It’s great to meet you, too,” I smiled, shaking her hand. Her skin was smooth, and despite looking thin and frail, she had a steel grip. When I pulled my hand away, I realised I’d got soot all over her hand. “Oh, sorry.” I said, embarrassed.

“It’s no problem,” she pulled her wand out of her pocket (which I noted, looked oddly like a twig you would find in the woods) and waved it around the room. As I looked around, I saw all traces of soot and dust disappear. “Poppy, would you like to show Violet around the cottage?”

“Yes!” Poppy said, unable to stop from jumping up in excitement “I can finally show you my room! And I can show you all the animals we have here!”

“Ok, let me just grab my trunk – ” I began saying, but June cut me off. With another flick of her wand, my luggage disappeared.

“I’ve put it at the end of Poppy’s bed for you.” She said, her eyes twinkling at me. “Dinner will be at six o’clock.”

I was able to thank her briefly, before Poppy got impatient and pulled me away. “I’m really glad you found the cottage alright,” Poppy said “I think there’s another Wisteria Cottage somewhere in Bulgaria, and that’s why we don’t really use Floo Flames to get here anymore. Too many people kept ending up in a stranger’s house.” she giggled.

“And you let me Floo Flame here anyway?” I gasped, pretending to be shocked. Poppy was not malicious enough to ever pull that sort of trick on me. Besides, I also found it quite amusing.

“Well Gran didn’t want you to,” she said, laughing “but I told her you had ancient magic and how good of a witch you were, and she relented.”

Poppy showed me around the cottage, which didn’t take long – there was the kitchen and dining room, where I’d arrived through the fireplace and her Grandmother’s study, which were all on the first floor.

“Gran needs a place to write up all her research and conduct experiments, which is why we made the drawing room into a study,” Poppy explained as I followed her upstairs “We never really used it, anyway. Never had many visitors. We always use the dining room to hang out in.”

“Poppy,” I said “Where exactly in England are we?”

“Not far from Whitby,” Poppy said “The cottage is stone’s throw from a Muggle village called Knightsbury, but obviously we don’t go there. If we need supplies or food or anything, Gran insists on apparating us to Diagon Alley.”

“Diagon Alley? Wow, that must be amazing. I’ve never been to Diagon Alley – ”

As she reached the top of the stairs, Poppy whipped around and stared at me, wide eyed. “You’ve never been to Diagon Alley?!” she shrieked “But – but how?”

I shrugged “Well in my fifth year I was too busy catching up before I got to Hogwarts that Professor Fig just took care of all my supplies – not that it mattered anyway, because I had to replace half of them when I got there,” I said “And then the summer before sixth year…” I trailed off, but Poppy knew what I was going to say.

I spent that summer mourning Fig, and trying to recover from everything that had happened to me; like Ranrok, yes…but also the fact that Sebastian had been ignoring me for months by then.

“At least I have a reason to go this time,” I smiled “I need new robes.”

Poppy snorted “You don’t need a reason to visit Diagon Alley! I would take you anyway. There’s so many cool shops and things to see!”

Poppy continued across the landing. “This is Gran’s room,” she pointed to a door. “The bathroom,” another door “and this is my bedroom!” she flung the door open and ushered me inside.

Underneath the latticed window was a small double bed, which had a large patchwork quilt on it, made from different fabrics and patterns. Sat faithfully, at the foot of the bed, was my luggage. Poppy’s room was painted sky blue. There was a paisley rug spread across the hardwood floors. Tacked onto the walls were anatomical drawings of beasts, articles from the Daily Prophet, and a Hufflepuff pennant.

A wind chime with coloured glass birds on it tinkled slowly in the wind, casting patches of colour to dance around the room. There wasn’t much room for anything else in the room, apart from an old wardrobe which had clothes spilling out of it, and a desk which was covered with rolls of parchment and ink blots from where Poppy had been hastily writing letters (or her homework). On the windowsill, sat in a bright purple pot, was a six inch cactus.

“You grew your own Mimbulus mimbletonia?” I asked, raising my eyebrows “That’s impressive.”

“Thanks!” Poppy smiled “I first planted it in third year. It’s taken him a while to get this tall.”

“You’re brave for keeping it in your room,” I commented “With the stinksap.”

Poppy frowned “Stinksap? Oh he doesn’t use that stuff on me. He’s far too happy. We have some of these in the Hufflepuff common room, y’know, although Mimbulus mimbletonia is such a mouthful. We just call them dancing cacti.”

“Well it’s amazing,” I said, sitting down on my trunk “This entire house is amazing!” and I meant every word. Poppy’s cottage felt like a treasure chest. A very homey, treasure chest. Everything in it was old and worn, but it was comfortable. Every room was crammed with pictures, ornaments, and potted plants. It was a vast different from Professor Hecat’s house, which was clean and minimalist.

“Thanks you!” Poppy smiled “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll be sharing my bed. We have a camping bed we could put in Gran’s study, but I thought you might be more comfortable in here with me.” Her cheeks turned slightly pink “Unless you would rather – ”

“I’m fine with sharing, Pops.” I smiled “I love your room.”

“I was worried it’d be too small for both of us,” Poppy confessed “this used to be Gran’s study, but then when I came to live with her she cleared it out for me.”

“Professor Hecat did the same with me,” I said “Although it was only this summer that I actually bothered to decorate.”

Just then, an orange cat strolled in through the open door, with two letters clutched in its mouth.

“You have a cat!” I exclaimed “And it brings you your mail! I love him! What’s his name?”

“Um, Dennis,” Poppy answered “But he’s not actually – ”

“I’m not a cat!” the cat said, spitting the letters out of its mouth and onto the floor, at Poppy’s feet.

My eyebrows shot up. “Your cat talks?!”

The orange cat – Dennis – sat down and eyed me with her bright, green eyes. “I’m not a cat. I’m a wizard. I work with June researching magical creatures.”

“You’re a wizard?” I repeated, still dumb-founded.

“Yes,” he stretched “Dennis Diggle, at your service!”

“But – but how?” I asked, looking at Poppy for an explanation.

“Gran went to check on the Golden Snidgets a few weeks ago and Dennis went with her. On the way back, they encountered some poachers and had to fight them off.” Poppy explained.

“Then I was turned into a cat!” Dennis explained “June, bless her, has been letting me live here since it happened while we wait for the effects to wear off.”

“Er, and how long have you been a cat?” I asked.

“A month…” Dennis answered, his tail flicking back and forth, clearly annoyed. Fed up of the conversation, he changed the conversation “I brought you your post, Poppy. Oh, and your Grandmother has told me to tell you to make sure you show Violet the garden.”

“I will,” Poppy said as Dennis left the room. She turned to me “Do you mind if I read these?” she asked, picking up the envelopes from the floor.

“Not at all.” I said. Poppy read the front of the first letter, and instantly ripped it up. She balled the parchment into tight snowballs, and then launched it across the room.

“Who was that from?” I asked, surprised.

“…my mother,” Poppy whispered “She’s sent me a letter at least once a week since the summer holidays began.”

I bit my lip. “Have you opened any of them?” I asked.

“No,” Poppy said flatly “As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing she has to say to me that’s important.”

“Is your Gran from your mother’s side or your father’s side?”

“My mother’s.” Poppy answered.

“Has your Gran gotten any letters from her?”

“No, which is what makes me suspicious,” Poppy said “If it was bad news, she would write to her first, I’m sure of it.”

I tried to think of something to say that would make her feel better, but I was completely useless. Even though I’d known my own fair share of awful family members, I didn’t know how to comfort her; I think that was partly because the last thing I would want in her situation was sympathy.

While I mused over this, Poppy moved onto her next letter. This one was much more warmly received. “It’s from Ominis!” she beamed, tearing the envelope open.

It was only then that I actually remembered my own forgotten letter from Sebastian on the table in Professor Hecat’s house. I watched Poppy as she quickly read the letter – she went from happy, to frowning, to worried alarmingly fast.

“Uh-oh,” I said, feeling a familiar twist of panic in my stomach “What’s happened?”

“It’s Anne!” Poppy exclaimed, standing up.

“Anne?” I stood up to, alert and ready to act “What’s wrong with her? Is it the curse? Has it come back?”

“No,” Poppy said, shaking her head “It’s – not as bad but somehow still worse?” I frowned, completely lost by Poppy’s explanation. It was only when she looked up at me that she elaborated. “She’s missing!”

Chapter 5: Intruders Welcome

Chapter Text

“What?” I exclaimed “Missing?! What does the letter say?” I asked, running to Poppy’s side.

“It just says that Anne went to go visit Garreth in Cornwall last week, and they both got an owl from him today saying Anne has been missing for an entire day?”

“An entire DAY?” I shrieked “What was he doing waiting so long? She could be anywhere!” I started pacing back and forth, biting the skin around my nails. Anything could have happened to her – what if she was in serious trouble? What if Ashwinders, old friends of Rookwood, had gotten hold of her as a way of getting back at me?

Poppy continues “Sebastian’s gone down to Cornwall to help Garreth and his family look for Anne…he says Sebastian sent you a letter earlier today but he doesn’t know if you would have received it before coming to mine, and – oh I don’t believe this!”

“What?” I asked, looking up.

“He says we shouldn’t worry!”

I scoff “That’s a joke, right?”

“No! He says they’re doing everything they can to find Anne…he’s staying behind in Lower Hogsfield in case she comes back…and Demetra Barley-Jones has already gone to the Ministry to report her as missing!”

“Well we can’t just sit here and do nothing!” I protested.

“I know!” Poppy agreed. Her eyes flashed suddenly, as if she had an idea. “Let’s go tell Gran! She can apparate us to Lower Hogsfield. Maybe we can help look for her.”

I agreed, and without losing another second we thundered downstairs. June was just coming out of her study as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

“What’s all that racket about?” she asked, looking up from a book in her hands.

Poppy quickly explained what Ominis letter had said, and how we needed to go to Lower Hogsfield asap. Despite the urgency in Poppy’s voice, her grandmother remained calm and composed.

“I’m not sure Poppins,” she said, tucking the book under her arm “if Ominis says we shouldn’t worry, I’m inclined to believe him.”

“Oh that’s just dragon dung!” Poppy exclaimed “He could be on fire and he would tell us not to worry. Right, Violet?”

In my experience, I found the opposite to be true. Ominis could be quite the worry wart; but at the same time, I knew he was just telling us not to worry as a ploy to keep us calm. So I nodded.

“It’s not like Anne to suddenly go missing,” I said anxiously “What if someone had kidnapped her? Or worse?”

“I appreciate that your worried for your friend,” Grandma June said slowly “but the last thing we need is to be getting under their feet. Perhaps, staying out of the way is the best thing we can do for the time being.”

“Gran,” Poppy said pleadingly “Anne is one of my dearest friends. She stood up for me against Bianca Bellhulme!”

June pursed her lips, before letting out a sigh of defeat. “Ok, how about a compromise? Write to Ominis and ask him if there’s any way we can help. If they still haven’t found her by tomorrow dinner time, we can go over to Lower Hogsfield and join the search.”

Poppy groaned, but eventually relented and agreed. It seemed to be the best deal we could get.

We wasted no time after that. Poppy wrote back to Ominis, and I sent a letter to Sebastian. I kept it brief – basically saying that I didn’t read his letter before I came here and that if he needed help with anything to let us know as soon as possible.

In the slow hours until dinner, all Poppy and I could do was talk about Anne – talk about where she could be, what could have happened to her, whether she simply got lost or if there was something far more insidious at play.

When Poppy’s Grandma eventually called us down for dinner, she could see the looks of worry still plastered across our faces. She tried to reassure us some more as she doled large helpings of lasagne onto our plates. When that didn’t work, she tried a different tactic.

“Poppy tells me you rescued a phoenix some time ago. I would love to see it sometime.”

Remembering Ganymede, I couldn’t help but smile. “Of course!” I beamed happily, but then a new worry entered my head.

“What’s wrong?” Poppy asked through a mouthful of garlic bread.

“I just realised I’m leaving Hogwarts this year…” I said “What will I do with all the beasts in my Vivarium?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find them happy new homes,” June said reassuringly “If not, I have many friends who would be able to find them closures where they could live.”

“Thank you,” I said “it’s hard to believe I’m already finishing Hogwarts. I have no idea what I want to do after I graduate.”

“Me neither!” Poppy exclaimed “All I know is that I want to work with creatures like Gran, but I don’t know what specifically to do. I could be a professor, a researcher, or work for the Ministry. So many options!”

I grimaced. Seeing the look on my face, Poppy’s grandmother chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it now. You have your entire lives ahead of you, don’t get too wrapped up in thinking what you do after Hogwarts is what you have to do forever.”

“I suppose that is reassuring to know.”

As we ate, we spoke more about the creatures Poppy’s Grandma had cared for, the last Quidditch World Cup, and Poppy’s plans for Christmas. Her Grandma would be home in December, so they would be able to celebrate Christmas together.

“Could Violet come back for Christmas?” Poppy asked.

“If she doesn’t have any other plans, I don’t see why not.” June smiled at me. She stood up and began clearing the plates away.

“Hecat and I haven’t discussed it yet,” I said “Would you like some help with the dishes?”

June smiled back at me “Thank you for offering! Poppy should bring you around more often,” she laughed “I’ll be fine. I believe Poppy has to show you my garden still, anyway.”

“I do!” Poppy said, standing up suddenly “You have to see the giant sunflowers! They’re tremendous!” she said quickly, and grabbed my hand. As I allowed myself to be dragged into the garden, I knew Poppy had something to tell me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Ssh!” Poppy put her fingers to her lips, and pointed at a low stone wall. Dennis was perched on it, watching a butterfly intently.

Poppy tiptoed past him, into the garden. The garden was enormous. The grass was scruffy, and there were boxes of vegetables growing around the garden. In the centre was a pond, rife with lily pads. There were other flower beds and shrubs, growing bright, jewel coloured flowers, but the giant sunflowers were hard to miss. They stood in a corner, against the wall, growing teen feet high, their flower heads as big as umbrellas.

As Poppy manoeuvred her way around the pond, and the growing flowers, she stopped and hunched under the sunflower. “I have a plan.” She whispered.

“A plan for what?” I asked uncertainly.

“To find Anne!”

I scrunched my nose up. “How?”

“Well, ok, maybe not in finding her…but if we wait when Gran’s asleep tonight, we can use Floo powder to go to Lower Hogsfield. Or even Cornwall!”

“I’m not sure Poppy,” I frowned “I think your Grandma might be right this time. We should wait for Ominis’ response, at least, before taking action.”

“But she could be in trouble!” Poppy said emphatically “What if it was you who was missing? Or me?” she looked at me pleadingly “I can’t just sit here and do nothing while one of my best friends is missing!”

I felt another knot of anxiety form in my stomach. I knew Poppy was right, but at the same time, I was terrified. I couldn’t bear the thought of Anne being hurt, or worse…but then if we sat back and did nothing, and she got hurt because of us waiting around, then that was worse…

“Come on,” Poppy said “Everything we did in fifth year, and last year, what’s a little sneaking off?”

I looked at her, the knot in my stomach tightening. I remembered what I’d told Hecat, a few hours ago, about how I was determined to have a normal year “Well…I guess it’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission…”

“That’s the spirit!” Poppy said. She grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the giant sunflowers “Come on, we should begin packing now. Did you bring your satchel with you?”

*

In the waning hours of the night, it was a struggle for me to act normally. I tried to make conversation with Poppy’s Grandma, asking about her research, trying to act normal; but I feared I looked as every bit as nervous as I felt.

Once the clock on the dining room mantlepiece struck nine, Poppy yawned. To her credit, she was an amazing actress. I almost believed she was tried.

“Looks like it’s bed time for you girls,” June said.

“But it’s only nine!” Poppy protested “and it’s the holidays! Surely we can stay up a little longer…”
I shot her a bewildered look. We wanted to go to bed – why was she arguing against it?

“You’ve had a big day, the both of you. I shall be following you up in a moment, anyway.” June said.

“Fine,” Poppy said, standing up “Violet, you can use the bathroom first.”

“Oh – er – alright. Goodnight, June. Goodnight, Dennis.” I said, calling to Dennis who was curled up and asleep in the middle of the dining room table. His little ginger ears twitched in response.

The moment Poppy and I were in her bedroom, she quickly dashed to her wardrobe and began pulling out items of clothing. “I know it’s summer, but I think we should dress warm,” Poppy said, examining a stripy, rainbow jumper.

I grabbed my satchel, and made sure we had packed everything we could need. Luckily, it had infinite space on the inside, and didn’t get heavy. Between Poppy and myself, we’d packed spare pyjamas, toiletries, a first aid kit, a length of rope, matches, a compass which didn’t seem to point north at all (“It’s supposed to be like that,” Poppy reassured me), two sleeping bags, and a flask of water. There was also a pouch of our money which we had pooled together.

We’d bickered about what was necessary and what wasn’t. Poppy seemed to think we’d be roughing in the wilderness while we looked for Anne, while I just thought we needed some overnight clothes since we’d be going to Lower Hogsfield.

“Do we really need this many clothes?” I asked as Poppy threw three jumpers, five pairs of woolly socks, some old trousers, and two skirts at me.

“I’m just preparing for the worst!” Poppy said, pulling a Hufflepuff bobbly hat over her head.

“We’re going to Lower Hogsfield,” I said “Maybe Cornwall. We won’t need this much stuff!”

“It’s called being responsible, Violet,” Poppy said, pulling on an emerald green coat “all adults over pack.”

I knew there was no arguing with her, so I relented and added the clothes into the satchel. While I put on my own coat (and Ravenclaw scarf, much to Poppy’s nagging) Poppy listened intently, her ear pressed against the bedroom door.

After about an hour of listening, Poppy opened her bedroom door a crack. From across the hall, I could hear a soft snoring sound from June’s bedroom.

“Lumos,” Poppy whispered. As the tip of her wand lit up, she looked back at me “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I said, pulling my bag over my shoulder “Let’s go.”

We tiptoed across the landing, and down the stairs. As we reached the bottom, Poppy looked over her shoulder and whispered to me. “We should take some food with us as well.”

“Poppy!” I hissed quietly “We don’t have time!”

“Of course we do! We need to eat.” Poppy said, heading towards the pantry. “Just some bread and cheese, at least.”

“You’re really starting to get on my nerves, Pops,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

I don’t know whether she heard me or not, but she told me to be quiet. “We don’t know where Dennis is. Last thing we need is him snitching on us.”

While Poppy raided the pantry, I kept an eye out for Dennis. “Can you hurry up?” I asked, testily.

“I’m trying to decide whether we should take raspberry jam or strawberry jam.” Poppy responded.

“Poppy!” I hissed “We don’t need jam!”

“Can you keep quiet please?” Poppy said, equally annoyed, from inside the pantry “You’ll wake the entire house!”

“Well I’m not the one taking forever deciding between which jams we should take!” I replied “You want to know which one we should take? None! Jam’s won’t help us find Anne!”

“You don’t know that!” Poppy argued back, popping her head out of the pantry door “What if we encounter werewolves?”

I hid my face in my hands and counted to five before replying – I wanted to scream and ask her how jam would save us from werewolves. When I looked back up, Poppy’s face was pale, a look of quiet fear plastered across it.

Before I could ask what was wrong, she grabbed my hand and pulled me inside the pantry with her. She flicked her wand, extinguishing the light at the tip.

“What is it?” I asked “What’s wrong?”

“There was someone looking through the window!” Poppy whispered urgently.

I could feel my eyes widen. “What did they look like?”

“I don’t know!” Poppy said “They were just a shadow, but I saw them cup their face against the kitchen window.”

I swallowed “Are you sure it wasn’t Dennis just loitering?”

In the darkness, I could feel Poppy’s judgemental gaze on me. “ I know what a cat looks like Violet! And this was not a cat.”

“Well we can’t stay in here forever,” I said “You’re Gran’s upstairs asleep!”

“I know,” Poppy said, gulping “What if it’s the same people who took Anne?”

“We don’t know that – ” I stopped speaking, as we heard the hinges of the kitchen door slowly open. They let out a low, moaning sound, that sent shivers down my spine. Next came footsteps echoing on the tiled floor.

Poppy grabbed my hand, her fingers cold, her grip vice like. My heart was beating so loud I’m surprised the intruder didn’t hear it.

“We have to do something,” Poppy whispered in a voice so quiet, I almost couldn’t hear her.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’ll get the door, and you give them the element of surprise.”

In the dimness of the pantry, Poppy nodded her head. Slowly, I got to my feet, and lifted the latch on the pantry door. I opened it a crack first, to see where the intruder was. I could only just make out a silhouette in the kitchen, looking around pensively.

“Ready?” I whispered.

“As I’ll ever be,” Poppy said, gripping her wand.

“Ok,” I took my own wand out of my pocket “I’ll be behind you in case something goes wrong…three…two…”

Poppy didn’t wait for me to get to one. She burst the pantry door open, shrieking, and went barrelling towards the stranger in the kitchen. “Incarcerous!” Poppy shouted, aiming her wand. A blast of white light flashed from her wand, and as ropes were conjured from the end of her wand.

“Oof!” the stranger grunted as they fell to the kitchen floor, winded.

“I got him!” Poppy exclaimed “He’s tied up!”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes, look! Lumos,” Poppy lit her wand again, which filled the kitchen with light. “Tied up all nicely like a present.”

I knelt down to get a better look of the intruders face – and pursued my lips together. “Er, Poppy?”

“Yes?”

“I found Anne.”

“Haha, very funny.” Poppy said stoically.

“No, I’m being serious,” I said.

Anne was tied up in front of us on the floor. There was a swathe of rope tied around her mouth as well, which she was furiously straining against, biting it, trying to get free. Her eyebrows her arched angrily, and I could tell she had a few choice words for her.

Poppy lowered her wand to get a better look. “Anne!” she shrieked “What are you doing here?”

“Mmm mmfff hrrr!” said Anne.

“Oh, sorry. Finite Incantatem!” Poppy waved her wand over the ropes, and they dissolved. Now mobile, and more importantly, vocal, Anne sat up.

“What on earth was that for?” Anne snapped, climbing to her feet “Do you greet all visitors like that?”

“Visitors?” Poppy snorted “Visitors don’t break into my house in the dead of night! More importantly,” she brandished her wand menacingly, and placed it inches from Anne’s nose “My visitors also don’t go missing and make their loved ones worry sick about them! What the hell happened to you?”

Poppy no longer cared about being quiet. She was determined to make Anne understand what she had put us through, and she didn’t care if the entire village heard it. While Poppy launched into a long lecture, Anne looked at me pleadingly.

I placed a hand on Poppy’s shoulder. “IF you let her get a word in edge ways,” I said “Anne can explain to us what happened.”

“Thank you, Vi.” Anne said.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet,” I said “I’m just hoping you have a phenomenally good excuse.”

“Yes,” said a fourth voice. Poppy, Anne, and I all spun around to where the voice came from. Standing in a lilac dressing gown, with her grey hair loose around her shoulders, was Poppy’s grandmother. “I imagine it’s quite the tale you have for us.”

Chapter 6: The Knight Coach

Chapter Text

Calmly, Poppy’s grandmother suggested we all sit down while we get our stories straight. Anne, Poppy, and I sat on one side of the table, while June sat opposite us. I felt like we were about to be thoroughly interrogated.

“I think the first order of business,” she said slowly “Is to let your family know that you’ve turned up safe and sound.”

“Yes,” Anne mumbled “I suppose so…”

“I’m going upstairs to get dressed,” June said firmly “Then I’ll apparate to Lower Hogsfield to let your loved one know the good news. I trust that you three will stay put here in the meantime?” even though the question was addressed to all three of us, her eyes were on me and Poppy specifically.

“Yes, Gran…” Poppy said dully.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Poppy responded, her eyes wide “…I’m sorry Gran, truly I am! But I had to go and find her, you know I did, and – ”

June held her hand up, silencing Poppy. Instantly, Poppy went quiet.

“Er,” Anne said “Mrs – ”

“June is fine.”

“Oh, ok. June – Poppy, and Violet had nothing to do with me coming up here. I came here by myself.”

“All the way up from Cornwall?” June asked, raising an eyebrow sceptically.

Anne nodded. “It’s a funny story actually…I let myself into your house and they, er, apprehended me because they thought I was a burglar or something. So in a way, I actually stopped them from leaving…” the confidence in Anne’s voice slowly dwindled as she spoke, her conviction slowly suffocating under June’s scrutinising stare. Eventually, Anne made the best decision she probably made in last the forty-eight hours – she decided to shut up.

“We’ll stay put, Gran.” Poppy said.

June nodded, then left the dining room. We listened to her footsteps grow quieter and quieter, and when we heard the distant sound of her door closing, Poppy whipped around to face Anne.

“You – YOU – !” Poppy exclaimed, punching Anne hard on her upper arm.

“Ow!” Anne whined, clutching her arm “Careful, Pops!”

“Pops? POPS?!” Poppy cried “You – I don’t even have words right now to insult you properly! What on earth were you thinking?” Anne opened her mouth, but Poppy wasn’t finished “Oh, I know, you weren’t thinking! What sort of inconsiderate, hair brained imbecile just disappears and doesn’t let people know where she’s going?”

“I mean,” I added quietly “We were about to do that…”

Poppy whips her head around to me. “I was going to leave a note! You know why? Because I know my Gran would’ve had a heart attack if she woke up and found my bed empty!” she turned back to Anne “So I really, really hope you have a good excuse Anne Sallow!”

Anne’s lower lip trembled – and then we saw her do something neither of us had ever seen before; she burst into tears.

Anne lowered her head on the table, hiding her face in her arms, and sobbed. As I watched her shoulders heave up and down, Poppy shot me a look of alarm.

“Oh Anne,” Poppy said, her voice softening instantly, hand reaching out to rub her shoulder “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout…well, I did, but that’s only because we were so worried about you! Violet thought maybe some Ashwinders had caught you or something…”

Sniffing, Anne sat up. I pulled a hankie from my pocket and offered it over to Anne, which she took gratefully. “Do you want to tell us what happened?” I asked calmly. Anne nodded, before blowing her nose loudly into the handkerchief.

After a few more heavy breathes, Anne was almost composed enough to speak. Her cheeks, and her eyes, were bright red. “Garreth and I broke up.”

Poppy’s eyebrows shot upwards, and I could feel the surprise etched on my own face. “You broke up?” I repeated “But how? You two seemed so happy!”

“We were,” Anne, dabbing her cheeks “We wrote everyday while we were apart, then last week he invited me to Cornwall and I went up – and then…oh guys, it was awful!”

“What happened?” Poppy asked, squeezing Anne’s hand.

“Well his family was nice. His Mum was lovely. She made me one of those awful jumpers you and Sebastian have,” this referred to the colourful jumpers with our initials on the front. Me, Sebastian, and Ominis had ended up with them as gifts last year. “And I thought everything was fine! We went for walks on the beach, had picnics together, played games with his cousins…”

“Ok…” I said slowly “And at what part does it get horrible?”

“Violet!” Poppy scolded me, slapping my arm.

“Ow! Well I’m just trying to understand! If everything was going to perfectly, why did you leave?”

Anne sniffed again, before continuing. “Two days ago, Garreth organised this moon light stroll on the beach. It was very romantic. The moon was full, and reflected on the sea…all that corny romantic stuff…”

“And…?” Poppy prompted.

“Then he took my hands in his and started giving this speech about how he was so lucky to have me in his life and that he never thought he could feel like this towards a person…and then he said he loved me.”

“Awww,” Poppy simpered. That was her natural reaction to anything sweet and romantic.

Anne shot her a dirty look. “It’s not good, Pops!” she exclaimed “That was the first time he said I love you to me!”

“Ah, so it was a milestone!” Poppy said “And what did you say back?”

Anne let go of Poppy’s hand and drew circles on the wooden table with her finger, too ashamed to look at us.

“Anne,” Poppy repeated “What did you say?” Anne didn’t answer.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” I added.

“No,” Anne mumbled “It was worse.”

Poppy’s jaw fell open “No – Anne – tell me you didn’t say nothing back?”

“I’m not that heartless!” Anne cried “I said ‘thank you’…”

I had to purse my lips together. The entire situation was so…so comical, in a way, that I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“You…said….thank you?” Poppy said, her own lips quivering, unable to keep back her laugh.

“It’s not funny!” Anne cried again “I just stood there like an idiot, said thank you, and he looked at me with this…this expectant look on his face, and it was a full ten seconds before I realised he wanted me to say it back to him!”

“Oh…” Poppy and I said at the same time, both of us knowing exactly where this was going.

“Yeah, I know,” Anne sniffed “We were just stood on that stupid moonlit beach, holding hands, he said I love you for the first time and what do I say? I say thank you. And it gets worse.”

“Oh Anne,” I said, hiding my own face in my hands “How could it possible get worse?”

“Well he wanted me to say it back to him…he told me that, and I realised I couldn’t…because I – I don’t!”

Poppy stood up suddenly “Anne Sallow I know for a fact that is a lie! I’ve seen you two mooning over each other for months! You’re obsessed with each other!”

“Yeah, obsessed, but not love…” Anne said.

“It just doesn’t make sense!” Poppy exclaimed “What made you think you didn’t love him?”

“Lots of things, really…it was always him who got me small gifts and organised surprises and wrote to me first…and then when he said he loved me, I realised…I don’t love him. Well, not in the way he wanted me to, anyway. I just loved having a boyfriend.”

Poppy sat back down, speechless. “I think it was very mature of you to realise that,” I said “Though I get it didn’t come at the best time.”

“So what happened next?” Poppy asked, looking shell shocked.

“Well, Garreth and I got into an argument and I just told him the truth. We argued a little longer, and then I said I needed some time alone.”

“And then you – what, ran away?” said Poppy.

“Sort of? I didn’t mean to at the time. I went for a walk, and before I knew it, the sun was coming up. When I found a Muggle village and asked where I was, they said I was miles from Cornwall. It was then that I realised I didn’t want to go back. I couldn’t face Garreth and his family. It would be too embarrassing.”

“So you walked all the way here from the south of England?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.

“Not quite,” Anne replied “I had some money, so I flagged down the Knight Coach and asked it to take me to your cottage.”

“The Knight Coach?” I echoed “What’s that?”

“It’s a carriage which is bigger on the inside,” Poppy told me “It has bunk beds and hammocks, for witches and wizards to sleep in. It’s supposed to be useful in a pinch, if you find yourself stranded. Gran’s used it loads of times.”

Anne nodded “For three sickles I got a window bed and some unsolicited love advice from the conductor.”

Poppy frowned “It shouldn’t have taken you two days to get here by Knight Coach. What happened?”

“Well I tried telling the conductor I wanted to go to Wisteria Cottage,” Anne said “but he just said they don’t go all the way to Bulgaria, they only cover Britain. Then I couldn’t remember the village you lived near, so I just told him to take me to Whitby.”

“You walked all the way from Whitby?” I exclaimed “But that’s miles!”

“It was all right,” Anne said “I got to see they Abbey. Some bloke was selling these fried potatoes things called chips. They were delicious. He got angry though when I gave him some knuts.”

Poppy stood up again suddenly and went into the pantry. “What are you doing?” I called out.

“Getting Anne some food! She must be famished!” Poppy said, carrying a large plate. Sat on top of the plate was a coconut and vanilla cake, dusted with sugar and filled with jam and cream. Poppy sliced a large triangle from the cake and thrusted it into Anne’s hands. “Eat!” she demanded.

Not needing to be told twice, Anne took a big bite of the cake. “I did eat, y’know. I met this farmer who gave me a lift on his wagon for a couple of miles. Then he said I could sleep in his barn and have breakfast there if I did some chores.”

“You’re lucky,” I said “most Muggles aren’t that nice. Not down south, anyway.”

Anne nodded “Yeah, but I got here in one piece. Then I walked the rest of the way, and got here late. I did wonder about whether I should knock, but then I met this ginger cat who said I could go in.”

“Ginger cat?” Poppy exclaimed “Dennis!”

“Whose ‘ennis?” Anne asked with her mouth full.

“Poppy’s Gran had a research assistant who got turned into a cat. He’s a little…aloof.” I said “Maybe he knew we were planning to go find Anne ourselves?”

Poppy crinkled her nose “Maybe…I bet he just thought it’d be funny to let Anne in without anyone knowing.”

“Well,” Anne said, swallowing her last bite of cake “I told you my story. What’s going on with you two?”

I explained that Poppy had the idea to run away so we could try to help and find her. “We would have probably left, if we hadn’t been arguing over jams.”

“Jams?” Anne giggled.

“Well it’s a good thing we did!” Poppy said bossily “because otherwise we would have missed Anne completely! So I guess serendipity and jam provides again.”

Anne turned to me “Any news on your brother?”

I shook my head “We’ve tried several leads, but there’s nothing concrete. Not unless I want to hunt him down via my father, which I don’t.”

Before either Anne or Poppy could reply, June apparated suddenly into the dining room. She looked very tired, as if apparating the long distance had taken it out of her. “I’ve let your family know your safe and sound with me,” she said, sitting down.

Noticing the cake on the table, she cut herself a slice. “Sebastian is very angry.”

Anne looked sheepish. “Sorry for all the trouble. Really, I am. I didn’t plan to run away it just sort of…happened.”

“At least we know where you are now,” June said “Now, I suggest you three head along to bed. I’ll bring the camping bed up shortly for you in a minute, Anne.”

“I don’t have to go home?” Anne said brightly.

“No, I told them you were welcome to stay with me for a few days. Although Sebastian and Ominis insist on visiting soon.”

“That will be fun!” Poppy smiled “We can all go to Diagon Alley together!”

“Yes,” June said, grinning “And I can finally meet this boy who you’re so infatuated with.”

Poppy turned bright red; we took that as our cue to go upstairs to bed.

Chapter 7: A Trip to Diagon Alley

Chapter Text

We set up the camping cot in a small corner in Poppy’s room. Anne is content to sleep there, happy to be with us. Luckily, June had the forethought to bring Anne some of her toiletries and clothes.

I’m more than happy to have Anne stay with us; in truth, I’m just relieved she’s alive and well, and not still missing or worse. Poppy thinks she’s using us as a distraction from having to think about Garreth.

I don’t disagree with her (in fact, I think she’s right) but I take Poppy’s grumblings with a pinch of salt. She’s still mad that Anne just upped and vanished for two whole days – she gets even more annoyed when, the morning after Anne’s arrival, her Grandma surprises us with “a special job” she wants Poppy and I to do.

“I can help, too!” Anne offers, through a mouthful of toast.

“Thank you for offering, dear,” June says sweetly, pouring herself some tea “but this is a special job for Poppy and Violet.”

Poppy swallowed “And…what is this special job?”

June smiled, her eyes shining brightly behind her glasses. “Why, it’s your most favourite job in the world!”

“No!” Poppy cried “You don’t mean – ”

“De-gnoming the garden? I do.” June smiled wickedly.

“No, Gran! Why us?” Poppy asked, looking mortified.

“As punishment for trying to sneak out and disobeying me,” June said “Any other questions?”

Poppy just groaned. “I hate de-gnoming the garden,” she mumbled “it’s the worst job ever.”

I just ate breakfast and read The Daily Prophet without complaint. The last thing I wanted to do was get in the middle of Poppy and her Gran, especially since Poppy was already in a foul mood with Anne.

It was only when Poppy and I were putting on large, wicker sunhats and suncream that I even dared to ask her what ‘de-gnoming’ the garden even meant.

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Poppy said “We have to force the gnomes out of the holes they’ve made in the garden, swing them about, and throw them over the wall.”

“Ah. Is that why you hate doing it?” Poppy adored creatures of all colour, creed, and size. I could imagine that throwing a creature over a garden wall would not sit well with her. She might have times of fierceness, but Poppy had the biggest heart of anyone I had ever met.

To my surprise, however, Poppy snorts. “Hardly. De-gnoming is just a part of life – and this way is actually humane, believe it or not.” I raised my eyebrows, surprised at her answer. She kept talking. “But there’s this one gnome – ugly fellow, looks like a squashed up pumpkin – who keeps coming back no matter how many times I throw him over the garden wall! I’ve named him Bludger.”

My mouth twitched into a smile. “So, this creature you hate…you still named him?”

“Yes,” Poppy said, sticking her nose in the air “You’ll see why I chose that name as well.”

For the next half an hour, Poppy shows me how to find Gnome holes, and how best to swing them around to make them dizzy, before lobbing them over the garden wall. Catching them was quite easy, it turns out, because gnomes were quite nosy.

De-gnoming the garden takes us nearly all day – Poppy is adamant about dealing with Bludger, a large round gnome with orange-ish skin, who she spend a good two hours yanking by the feet, trying to dislodge him from his hole. Sadly, because he was so round, he was very heavy.

In the meantime, while Poppy was being sworn at by Bludger, I was inexpertly catching gnomes and throwing them over the wall. It was a while before I realised the gnomes kept coming back, because I wasn’t (in Poppy’s words) making them dizzy enough.

By lunchtime, we were both hot and bothered; luckily though, that’s when Poppy both remembered we were seventeen…and therefore allowed to do magic outside of school. Once we started using Flipendo and Wingardium Leviosa on them, the work went by much quicker.

When we went back inside the cottage, Anne sat comfortably in an armchair, with a glass of cold lemonade. “There you are!” she smiled, taking a long sip “how was gardening?”

Poppy narrowed her eyes, taking off the woven sunhat on her head. “Shut it, Sallow.”

“Oh, Pops,” Anne said, grinning “You might want to be nicer to me than that. I am a guest, after all.”

Poppy stuck her tongue out at her, and helped herself to some lemonade. Anne sat up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, Poppy. I know it’s a poor excuse, but I wasn’t in the right head space…”

Despite Anne’s apologies, it takes a few more hours before Poppy decides to forgive Anne, and even then it’s only because she was tired of giving Anne the cold shoulder. It was hard to ignore someone who was sleeping in your room.

The next day, Dennis brings us more mail at breakfast. He places the letters in front of Poppy, before helping himself to his own breakfast of bacon and eggs. He had a plate set at the table, as he refused to eat on the floor. Poppy passes me two letters, and one to Anne.

I recognise the handwriting instantly – one from Hecat, the other from Sebastian. I open the one from Sebastian first and read it twice.

“Hey, Sebastian and Ominis say they’re going to come visit tomorrow!” I said, breaking out into a wide smile. I looked over at Poppy. “Do you think your Gran will let them sleep over?”

Poppy doesn’t answer straight away; her eyes are fixed on Anne, whose face has paled.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“It’s from Garreth.” Anne says weakly.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Poppy asks, raising her eyebrow at Anne.

Swallowing, Anne says no. Poppy scoffs. “What do you mean no? You have to!”

“I can’t, Poppy…” Anne begins saying “Not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet?” Poppy exclaims “Anne, you owe him a reply at least!”

I could see another argument brewing, so I quickly interrupted them by repeating my question to Poppy. She looks at me confused. “Let who stay?”

“Sebastian and Ominis, they said they’re coming down tomorrow. Is that alright?”

Luckily, this did the trick in distracting Poppy. She stood up suddenly “Ominis is coming tomorrow? That’s hardly any time to prepare! I have to tell Gran, we have to tidy the house – ”

“But – he’s blind?” I frown.

Poppy continues, ignoring my interruption as she runs off to find her Gran. “And I haven’t washed my hair yet!”

Anne lets out a deep sigh “Thanks Violet. She was getting a little intense there, for a moment.”

I shifted awkwardly in my seat “Don’t thank me yet, Anne. Poppy’s right. You owe Garreth a response – as soon as possible.”

Anne looks down in her lap, ashamed.

“Will every breakfast be filled with teenage drama is or this just a special occasion?” Dennis asks, chewing a mouthful of bacon.

*

I write Sebastian a response while Poppy makes arrangements with her Gran; she agrees, but she’s very adamant that the boys sleep in her office. That surprised me a little. If there was one big difference I’d noticed between muggles and wizards, it was that wizards were not nearly as conservative. They were fine with things which muggles would consider improper, such as same-sex relationships. They also didn’t think abstinence was important.

I remembered the first time Poppy told me about some of the stuff she and Ominis had got up to, I blushed so hard I thought I would faint. She was surprised to hear that I hadn’t done much with Sebastian, apart from kissing (but that was an awkward subject for another day).

In my letter, I make the suggestion of meeting them in Diagon Alley, then returning to Poppy’s home. Once I send the letter off, Poppy makes Anne and I follow her around the house, tidying up clutter, beating rugs and pillows, and straightening ornaments. (“Do you think Ominis will like this?” Poppy asks. “Pops…he’s blind!” Anne reminds her.)

Before I know it, the morning has rolled around, and we’re all queuing to use the bathroom. Poppy typically isn’t a morning person, so I’m surprised to see she’s the first one awake, washed and dressed. Anne takes a little more convincing.

“I don’t want to go to Diagon Alley,” she mumbles into her pillow.

“But you need stuff for school,” I point out, tying my boot laces.

“I’ll just use Seb’s stuff from sixth year.”

“Why don’t you want to come?” I ask “Is it because you’re afraid to face Sebastian?”

“No!” Anne said hotly, sitting up suddenly. “Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t want to – I don’t know – fifth wheel with you guys?”

I furrow my brow at her, but stay quiet. I get the feeling that this isn’t the real reason as to why she doesn’t want to come, but I don’t press it. In the end, I can’t persuade her to come with us.

When I go downstairs to meet Poppy and her Gran, I let them know Anne won’t be coming.

“Is she alright?” June asks.

“Yes,” I say “she said she wanted to spend some time with Dennis. Something about helping him reverse his curse?”

We turn to look at Dennis, who is lounging in a ray of sun on the hard wooden floors, belly up, legs sprawled, snoring. I get the feeling he might not be in a rush to turn back into a human any time soon.

“Are you ready?” Poppy asks me, eagerly stretching her hand out to me.

“I am. Are we apparating?”

June nods. “You might experience a little discomfort, the first time, but I assure you it’s relatively harmless.” She looks up at the stairs “Are you sure Anne doesn’t want to come?”

I’m the only one who notices Poppy rolling her eyes as she says “Yes, Gran. Anne will be fine, really.”

“Hm. If you insist. Well, hold on tight, girls.” June says.

Before I can even string together another two thoughts, I felt like I was being squeezed – like two giant hands were clamping down on me, trying screw me up into a ball of parchment; but then, just as it had begun, it was over.

It happened so quickly, that when I opened my eyes, we were standing in an alley way. The bricks in front of us were filthy and grimy, caked in black soot and looked worn away. The sky was filled in a familiar, grey smog. We were somewhere in London.

“Ministry’s on about building a pub, soon,” June said, pulling a hanky from up her sleeve “Or some sort of little building to shield this place from Muggles.”

“What place?” I asked, confused “Diagon Alley?”

“Yes and no,” Poppy answered for me “More like the entrance.”

Before I could ask any more questions, June walks us further down an alley, and begins tapping bricks in a random order (the hankie was used to shield her hand from soot). When June had finished the sequence, I stood back and watched in awe as the bricks began to shuffle apart, revealing an archway into a completely different location – somewhere that already looked a lot brighter and cleaner than the Muggle London I was so familiar with.

“Whoa,” I breathed, as I followed June and Poppy through the arch. As we stepped through, the bricks nearly rearranged themselves, sealing us in.

“Well,” Poppy grinned “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” I exclaimed “I love it!”

Everywhere I looked, the alley was flooded with bright, gaudy colours and patterns. Dotting the cobblestone street were little stalls, where witches and wizards were selling their wares; little bags of sweets, second hand books, packets of seeds, buttons and ribbons, and newspapers. Behind the stalls were mismatched buildings – the bigger, more official shops.

To my delight, each shop was decorated differently depending on what they were selling. There was so much to see, I was worried my eyes would not be able to drink in the details fast enough, and commit them all to memory. I hoped we had time to see everything.

“I have a feeling of déjà vu,” I said, thinking back to the first time I had ever seen Hogsmeade. It was cosier, less crowded then Diagon Alley – but it was still as marvellous.

“Déjà vu?” June muttered “What spell is that?”

I chuckled “It’s not a spell.”

“Hm. Anyway, I shall meet you lot back here, no later than six o’clock. Ok?”

“Yes Gran,” Poppy smiles.

I wave goodbye to June, as she walks away from the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley.

“Where she’s going?” I asked.

“Probably to her office or the Ministry. She’s always having to keep them updated on her research.”

“Really? How come?”

Poppy shrugs “We’re learning new things about creatures all the time. It’s goo practice to share findings regularly. What if one day we discovered moon calf fur was explosive? It’s the sort of thing we should be aware of.”

I nod, and we walk along the street in silence for a minute. I look around, continuing to take in the sights. There’s Quidditch shop selling sleek, elegant looking broomsticks, as well as boxes which contain the three balls for the game.

Next to that is a bright red coloured building which is a bakery – the window is filled with buns, scones, fat loaves of fluffy bread, and tiered cakes decorated with flowers of frosting.

“Y’know,” I said slowly “You could be a little nicer to Anne.”

Poppy looks at me, but doesn’t respond for a moment. “I know,” she says at last “I’m trying to forgive her and move past it, but I can’t. It just feels so…” she holds her hands up and waves them around, as if she could pluck the word she’s looking for out of thin air “…I don’t know.” She shakes her head.

“I understand how you feel.” I say.

“You do?”

“Of course I do. All the people we’ve fought, all the things we’ve done – both in our fifth and sixth years…it was reckless of her.”

“Yes, it was.” Poppy says stiffly.

“But we’ve also done reckless things. It would be beyond hypocritical of us to hold this against her…especially after we did things like bring down Horntail Hall.”

Poppy sighs “I know, I know. I just feel like I need a few more days to be annoyed at her.”

I nod, and decide to change the subject. “Did we ever decide on a meeting place?”

“Ominis said to meet him and Sebastian outside of Gringotts.” Poppy points up ahead of us “It’s that great big white building, over there.”

I follow where she’s pointing, and I find that I’m very disappointed by Gringotts Bank. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but given the bright and cheerful nature of Diagon Alley, I thought the building to the prestigious bank would have matched in vibrancy.

Instead, it looked like any other muggle bank. It was made of pristine, white marble, and had huge, towering columns which gave the bank a domineering authority.

As we draw closer to the bank, I spy two very familiar looking figures – one sitting on the steps of the bank, and the other leaning against the column, his head co*cked.

I’d know that smug little smirk anywhere. My heart soars at the sight of him. “Sebastian!” I call out.

Sebastian’s head snaps in my direction, and he stands up straighter. He made an effort to look nice today, making sure his clothes were neatly pressed. When he sees me, his shoulders relax and he’s eyes light up. “Violet!”

Before I know what I’m doing, we’re running towards each other. Me meet in the middle, and I throw my arms around him, squeezing tightly. Sebastian wraps his arms around my waist and picks me up, spinning me around.

I burrow my face into the crook of his shoulder, and breath in his musky, woodsmoke scent. I didn’t quit realise how much I’d missed him until then. His scent reminds me of home, reminds me of Hogwarts – reminds me of love.

When he finally put me on the ground, he cups my face in his hands and looks deeply into my eyes, as if he wants to remember every inch of my face.

“God I missed you, Finch,” he smiles, before pulling me in for a long, deep kiss – with much to the disdain of the goblin bankers.
A few of them make disgruntled sounds at our public display of affection, but Sebastian takes no notice.

“I misses you too,” I say, putting my forehead against his.

Sebastian had grown a lot more over the summer. His jaw was sharper, his shoulders broader, and his overall physique somehow leaner. He even had stubble growing along his chin; he was no longer the boy I met back in fifth year, but almost a grown man now. In fact, he was now several inches taller than me. Until recently, we’d remained the same height as each other.

Sebastian looks over my shoulder at Poppy, and waves. He looks around the busy street. “Where’s Anne?”

“She didn’t want to come,” I say truthfully “I think she’s still embarrassed about what disappearing.”

“Embarrassed?” Sebastian frowns “Why would she be embarrassed?”

It occurred to me then that Sebastian must not know what happened between Anne and Garreth down in Cornwall. This was definitely a can of worms I didn’t want to open.

“She’s just worried how you’ll react,” I say, deflecting. To avoid giving more details, I turn around to Ominis, who’s just finished hugging Poppy. I walk over to him.

“How’s your summer been so far?”

“More delightful now that I’m in the presence of you ladies,” he says smoothly. Like Sebastian, Ominis had grown taller and leaner, though he remained smooth faced. His sandy blonde hair had also grown longer and shaggier – a far cry from the sleek, cropped hair he had in fifth year. If I had to guess, this was a sign he was officially (if not emotionally) emancipated from his parents.

“Nice hair,” I say.

“Thank you. Yours too. Poppy tells me you’ve returned to your original hair colour long at last,”

I twirl a lock of auburn hair around my finger. In sixth year, after my confrontation with Professor Spindle, I produced a patronus charm so powerful it turned my hair white. That was the theory form the doctors at St. Mungus, anyway.

“Yeah, I finally caved in and dyed it,” I said “I’m too pale to pull off white hair.”

Sebastian holds his arm out to me “Are we going to stand chatting here all day, or shall we go make your first withdrawal, Miss Finch?”

Chapter 8: The Boy At Madam Malkins

Chapter Text

The visit to Gringotts doesn’t take as long as I expected. I knew that the vaults were kept deep, deep underneath the ground below, and that you had to take a cart to get there – but the system was surprisingly efficient. Although we were queuing for a while.

Several other students had decided to come for their school supplies as well. Already, I had seen Amit Thakkar, Imelda Reyes, and Adelaide Oakes.

Poppy and Sebastian did not have Gringotts vaults of their own yet, so it was only Ominis and I that made the journey down below.

“It’s time like these I’m happy to be blind,” Ominis says as the cart lurches off down into the caverns. “If I could see, I know I’d get travel sick in these contraptions.”

“You could still get motion sick,” I say, holding onto the seat handles as we took a sharp left hand turn.

In the dim light of the lanterns, I can only just make out the faint green tinge in Ominis’ face. “I know. But it would be worse if I could see.” He says queasily.

I chuckle. “Take a deep breath!” the goblin steering the cart cries out.

Ominis and I only just manage to take a deep breath in time, before we whizz through a slim waterfall. I knew from prior experience that it was designed to wash off enchantments, in case anyone got crazy ideas and decided to try and use magic to break into Gringotts.

Despite that it felt like water, it left you bone dry afterwards; something to be thankful for, otherwise we’d probably catch pneumonia in these cold dark caverns.

We stopped at my vault first, as it was newer; vault 199. It had originally been Professor Fig’s, but when I inherited his estate, the vault, and the money inside it was put in my name.

As Ominis and I climbed out of the cart, we both took a minute to regain our balance.

“It wasn’t that rough the last time I was here,” I said, doubled over.

“Maybe we’re both getting old.” Ominis replied. He still looked green.

“Speak for yourself,” I muttered as I took my vault key out of my pockets. I put the large, iron key in the intricate lock and watched as the iron cogs and locks undid themselves. As I stepped in to the vault, I hesitated.

“How much money do you think I’ll need?” I called out to Ominis. I knew that there were seventeen sickles to a galleon and twenty-nine knuts to sickle (which meant there were four hundred and ninety three knuts to a galleon, if you were keeping track), but I didn’t know how much I would need in total. This was the first time I was doing my own back to school shopping.

“Take a hundred Galleons, if you have it,” Ominis replies.

“A hundred? Will I really need that much?”

“No, but it will last you the entire year at Hogwarts. Gringotts might be the safest bank in the world, but you have to admit, it’s a little inconvenient having to come all the way to Diagon Alley to make a withdrawal – no offence,”

I turned around and saw the goblin banker, responsible for steering the cart, give Ominis a dirty look.

“So it’s best to take out more than you need.” Ominis finished his sentence.

“Sounds logical to me,” I said as I began counting out one hundred galleons.

The journey to Ominis’ vault took thirty seconds. He was vault 205! It was nice to see that Ominis’ father, Icarus Gaunt, had kept him promises. It was even more delightful to see the vault crammed sky high with piles and piles of gold!

“Wow,” I gasped, my breath catching at the sight of the shining hoard of gold. “So this is what a million galleons looks like.”

“I suppose so,” Ominis says. He opened a little velvet sack, and I helped him count out his money. “Take one fifty for me please, Violet.”

“One fifty? Why so much?” I asked, pooling the money into the sack.

“Just in case Poppy needs, or even wants, anything. I know she has enough for her new school supplies, but it wouldn’t be fair if she can’t buy anything nice like we can. Same for Sebastian.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet Ominis.”

“It’s the only thing my father’s money is good for. Well, that, and I’ve decided how I want to invest it all.”

“And how are you going to invest it?” I asked, making sure to not lose count of the coins already in the bag.

“Well, as you may well know Violet – I am blind.”

“It hadn’t escaped my notice. Go on,”

“Although I’ve managed quite well by myself at Hogwarts, you have to admit, it isn’t the most…accessible of places to people who are different. Like myself, of course.”

I nod. “Ok. So you want to make Hogwarts more accessible?”

“Yes! But I don’t want to just make Hogwarts more accessible. I want to make life for disabled wizards easier as well. For example, when you taught me to fly last year – it completely changed the way I thought about what I could do, if only proper modifications were made. So when I finish school, I’m opening up my own business.”

My eyebrows shoot upwards. “Really? Your own business? That’s great Ominis!”

“Thank you,” Ominis smiles “I’m going to design gadgets which will make life easier for disabled wizards. I even have the name for the shop sorted out,” he smile is so enthusiastic and giddy. It was nice to seem him so passionate about something like this.

“And what have you called it?”

“I’m calling it…Gauntlets.”

“Gauntlets?”

“Yes. Like the armour knights used to wear – but it’s also a clever play on my surname.”

“I like it,” I said truthfully “Though I’m surprised you’d want to have anything like that associated with your surname.”

“Yes, well, it’s a work in progress. Besides, it was Sebastian’s idea.”

We finish counting the money and head back up to the foyer of Gringotts. On the way, Ominis tells me excitedly about how he’s making a special compass which blind people can attach to their brooms, and it will tell them how high they are, if they’re close to crashing into anything, what speed they’re going, and etc.

“It was inspired by you, actually,” Ominis shouts over the noise of the cart “when you attached my wand to the end of my broom.”

I smiled. “Well, I’m glad I could be a help.”

Once we meet back up with Sebastian and Poppy, who had been chatting about what they think the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher would be, we leave Gringotts and head straight back into the throng of Diagon Alley.

“I need new robes,” I said “That’s my priority. Where do I get them from?”

“Madam Malkins does the best prices,” Ominis says “although it might take you a while to get seen to and measured up for some new robes.”

“I know!” Poppy exclaims “Do you want to go get seen at Madam Malkins and we go get the potion ingredients we need? I can get yours as well.”

“That sounds good to me,” I answered “Although woe betide you all if you even look at Flourish and Blotts without me!”

They show me where Madam Malkins (Robes for All Occasions!) is and promise to come back in forty minutes. There was a queue of Hogwarts students, mainly first years, waiting patiently with their parents to get measured up by Madam Malkin for robes.

After waiting patiently for fifteen minutes, it’s mine turn.

“Hello there!” A rather stressed out Madam Malkin greets me. She has curly hair scraped back into a bun, large spectacles sitting on the end on her snub nose, and many different coloured measuring tapes of different lengths draped around her neck “Are you here for Hogwarts robes too?”

I barely nod before she whisks me off into a room, filled with velvet stools. Stood on them is various first years, with measuring tapes magically hovering, taking the measurements, while a quill scratches down indecipherable numbers on a bit of parchment.

Madam Malkin gestures for me to stand on one of the stools, and grabs a measuring tape from around her neck. She flicks her wand at it, and it begins to take my measurements, too.

I begin laughing when the tape measure brushes against my arm pits slightly. A boy, who looks about my age (maybe even older), glances over to me.

“Sorry,” I apologise “it tickles.”

The boy, remaining wordless, looks me up and down. I can’t decipher the tone of his gaze; he looks at me partly with curiosity, partly with judgment. He has white hair, cropped closely to his head. A little scar runs across the bridge of his nose; but it’s his eyes that are the most noticeable. One is a brilliant blue colour, the same shade as a summers sky. The other is a dark and glittering green, like an emerald.

“Are you also getting measured for new school robes?” I ask politely. I don’t know what compelled me to ask him that. I didn’t want to make conversation with him, and he clearly felt the same way.

The boy looks at me again. “Yes,” he says slowly, as if he’s suspicious about what I’d do with this information.

“Me too!” I say too enthusiastically. “What house are you in at Hogwarts? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

The boy sticks his nose up in the air. “I don’t belong to a house yet,” he says stiffly “I’m transferring this year.”

“Really?” I exclaim “That’s exciting. I started Hogwarts as a fifth year, so I know how you feel. I also have a friend in Gryffindor who transferred from Uagadou in fourth year, so I think it’s quite normal. Which school have you come from?”

The boy turn his back on me, clearly done with our conversation. I was smart enough to take the hint.

When Madam Malkin at last comes to collect the measurements, she glances down at them. “You certainly have grown since last time, Violet!” she says “If I may say so, you’ve even put some weight on. When Professor Fig first put in the order for your school robes, you were as skinny as a pin!”

“That’s what two years of eating consistent meals will do to you,” I smiled happily. I’d been aware that my body had been slowly gaining weight and muscle. It was nice, knowing my body had finally filled out a bit and (dare I say it) looked more womanly, and less like an underfed rat.

“I’ll fetch these for you as soon as possible,” Madam Malkin smiles “And with an added discount.” She winks at me.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” I said, cheeks burning red “Really. I’m fine to cover the costs.”

“Nonsense! It’s not everyday you have the Hero of Hogwarts in your shop. Y’know, I was talking with my friend the other day – we’re surprised you weren’t given an Order of Merlin for defeating Ranrok.”

I’m so embarrassed I don’t know what to say, so I just smile politely. At first, it was a novelty when people would congratulate and thank me for saving Hogwarts and defeating Ranrok – but the more time passed, the wearier I grew of it. Was this the only thing I’d ever be remembered for?

Sure, it wasn’t a bad thing, being remembered as a hero…but I didn’t like the fuss I was still getting from it.

“You defeated Ranrok?”

I look up, and the boy with white hair is looking me up and down again. This time, in disbelief.

I looked ahead, and avoided eye contact with him. “Yes. Why?”

He shakes his head, not answering me. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

“Nothing at all,” the boy answered “I’m just surprised someone…someone like someone like you defeated him.”

“Someone like me?” I raised an eyebrow and clenched my fists. There were many people who still thought I was born from muggles, and liked to use this as an excuse to undermine me. “And what do you mean by that?”

The boy turns to me, his eyes glittering menacingly. “It means whatever you want it to mean.” He says cryptically.

Before I could reply, Madam Malkin gestures me forward to pay for my new robes. I walk to the counter, almost afraid to turn my back on the boy with white hair. As I walk to the door, he calls out from behind me. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Violet Finch!”

His words send a shiver down my spine. It’s not until when I’m out the door and down the street that I realise I never told him my surname.

Chapter 9: Romantic Rendezvous

Chapter Text

I walked along the street aimlessly, clutching my bag of new school robes tightly. Try as I might, I could not shake the creepy feeling that the white hair boy had given me. I’ll see you soon, Violet Finch. What could he have possibly meant by that?

The knot in my stomach finally unclenches slightly when I realise that he had, most likely, read about me in the papers – whether it was after this years adventures or last years, it was undeniable my name had made the headlines frequently.

But then…why was he acting so cagey?

A hand touches my shoulder and I jump out of my skin.

“Are you alright?” Poppy asks gently “You seem jumpy.”

I blink rapidly and look at Poppy. Ominis and Sebastian are stood behind her. I give them a small smile. “Yeah I’m fine,” I say “I just…it’s nothing.” I make a snap decision to not let that boy with white hair get to me. What had he done really? Nothing worse than playground taunts. I’d had worse. I would live.

Poppy shoots me a suspicious look. I know she will try and pry more details out of my later, but for now, she knows I won’t say a word more about it.

“Shall we head to Flourish and Blotts now?” Sebastian steps forward and takes my hand in his. He smiles at me reassuringly, and my body floods with warmth.

“Yeah, please.” I smile.

We spend the next three hours trawling all the shops in Diagon Alley. We look at everything, from clothes and jewellery to exotic frogs and flavours of ice cream I’ve never seen before. In Flourish and Blotts, I buy all my school books – but when Sebastian sees the pile I have in my arms of books that are just-for-fun-reading, he made me put several back.

“If you take that many books with you the Hogwarts Express won’t even be able to leave the station,” he’d joked. I put some back, but only because I didn’t fancy having to adventure back down into Gringotts to make another withdrawal.

After hours of walking around Diagon Alley, we finally find a little café that isn’t too busy and grab a table. We fuss around deciding what to order, until Ominis gets bored of waiting (or to hungry) and decides to order a tower of biscuits, cakes, and sandwiches for the table and two teapots – one filled with tea, another filled with a creamy and sweet hot chocolate.

As we chat away and eat, I forget all about my encounter with the white haired boy. It’s Poppy who brings up Professor Hecat’s retirement. She had announced it at the end of year celebration.

“So do you have any idea whose replacing Hecat?” she asks, a tea cup poised an inch away from her lips.

“No,” I answered “It’s been a well-kept secret all summer. She hasn’t even hinted if it’s a man or a woman.”

“Really? That’s a shame.”

I shrug “It’ll be weird without her their for my last year,” I said “but she can barely manage the stairs at her house, let alone the 147 staircases at Hogwarts.”

“I thought she was the same age as Professor Black?” Sebastian asked, lathering a scone with strawberry jam and clotted cream.”

“She is,” I said, avoiding eye contact “but I think the time curse has caught up to her at last. Her knee hurts more than usual, and when that’s not playing up, she has all these aches and pains.”

“Growing old sounds awful.” Ominis says.

“I know,” Sebastian said, before cramming the entire scone into his mouth “Itsah a whander why anywun boffers.”

“Sebastian!” Poppy scolded “Were you raised by wolves or something? Chew with your mouth closed!”

Poppy launched a fistful of floo powder into the flames. “Wisteria Cottage!” We walked into the fireplace.

*

The rest of the evening was marvellous. Poppy’s Grandma had made us a rich and tasty vegetable stew for supper, which we ate with fresh crusty baked bread and butter.

June was thrilled to meet Ominis. Although at first she mistook Sebastian for him.

“So this is your boyfriend Poppy?” she had said, looking Sebastian up and down “I suppose he is handsome, though he looks nothing like you described.”

“Grandma!” Poppy squeaked, turning a bright shade of scarlet “That’s not Ominis!”

“It’s not?” June co*cked her head to one side, confused.

“No,” Sebastian answered, smirking at being called handsome “I’m Anne’s brother. This is Ominis.”

Unfortunately for Ominis, at that moment he had a large soot stain on his nose, and his hair was tousled from the journey from Diagon Alley.

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Ominis said, sounding a little wilted, in my opinion, and held out his hand in the direction he heard June’s voice coming from.

“I’m terrible sorry, Ominis!” June said, quickly shaking his hand “I should have known better! Poppy talks about you so much, all the time! The mistake is all mine!”

Poppy looked mortified and I could see her questioning whether or not it was a good thing to have introduced her family to Ominis. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Anne leaning back in a kitchen chair, watching the interaction, and also smirking quietly to herself. She slinked off, though, before any of us could speak to her.

Anne did join us for supper, but any conversation people had with her was stoic and terse. It seemed to me that Sebastian had a difficult time also forgiving Anne for her disappearing act.

Poppy wasn’t as cold with her, but I think that’s because she was too busy monitoring the conversation between Ominis and her Grandma; she was attempting to steer the conversation away from any “embarrassing subjects”, in which she failed miserably.

Sensing her Granddaughter’s embarrassment only made her relish teasing her more, and so she told us all the story of how Poppy once came home crying when she younger – maybe five years old – clutching a small twig in her hand.

“She was inconsolable,” June laughed, wiping a tear from her eye “She just holds on this twig to me and says in this small, wobbly voice, ‘G-g-grandma! This b-b-bowtruckles DEAD!’”

We laughed along with her. Even Poppy smiles. “It took all evening convincing her it was a regular twig.”

When we’ve finished eating, June allows Sebastian and Ominis to wash up in the bathroom first. “You ladies can wash up the supper things first. Tomorrow, the boys can wash them up, and we alternate.”

Poppy’s eyes sparkle “You mean they can stay for the rest of the summer?”

June pauses for a moment before answering. “Oh, why not. You only have a week left, I suppose. Although it’s going to be havoc having six people sharing one bathroom. Not to mention having six people sleeping in our tiny cottage.”

“You mean seven!” Dennis cries indignantly from where he’s sat perched on the window sill.

“We know Dennis, we know,” June says, scratching him behind the ear.

When we finish washing up, Poppy, Anne and I line up outside the bathroom, holding our towels and toothbrushes.

“I think your Gran might be right,” Anne says “one bathroom for six people is going to be chaos.”

“Do we even know whose in there right now?” I asked.

“Probably Sebastian,” Anne rolled her eyes “he spends so much time sorting his hair.” I chuckled, before Anne shot me a look. She wasn’t kidding. “Speak of the devil.” Anne said, nodding behind me.

Sebastian came out of the bathroom. He was in his pyjamas already. “Good night ladies,” he smiled at Poppy and Anne. “And my lovely Violet.”

I blush as Sebastian takes my hand in his and kisses it. “Good night.” I whisper, barely able to get the words out of my mouth.

As he disappears down the stairs, Anne makes a gagging sound – Poppy takes advantage of this and slinks into the bathroom before either of us can. Anne tells Poppy off from outside the bathroom. While she’s distracted, I take this opportunity to unfold the note Sebastian slipped into my hand.

In his messy handwriting, it says: meet me in the garden at midnight xx

I scrunch the note up, unable to control the size of the smile on my face.

That night, I offered to sleep on the camping cot instead of Anne. “Really?” Anne asked, still drying her hair “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” I said “It’s only fair. We can take it in turn alternating.” We both turn and look at Poppy, whose already in her side of the bed, and reading an old issue of Witch Weekly. “If it’s alright with Poppy, that is…”

“It’s ok with me,” Poppy said slowly. She peeled back a corner of her quilt “In you come, Anne.”
Anne smiles gratefully. This is Poppy’s way of offering her an olive branch, meaning that she was more or less over giving Anne a hard time for disappearing from Cornwall.

We talk for a little while, the three of us, until we fall asleep. I pretend to fall asleep first, and listen to Poppy and Anne talk about Garreth.

“I mean, I do like him, but I don’t think I loved him,” Anne laments “and if I did, I just liked the attention he gave me, y’know? He was a nice distraction after being cursed for almost a year.”

“It’s sad that you came to that realisation now, but better late than never.”

Poppy soon fell asleep. Anne stayed up reading by candle light until about half past twelve. It wasn’t until I heard her softly snoring that it occurred to me that I didn’t have to be so secretive about meeting Sebastian in the garden.

Anne would probably make some sort of gesture showing how gross she thinks it is, and Poppy wouldn’t have batted an eyelid; and yet, it wouldn’t have been as fun or as thrilling if they knew.

Slipping on my slippers, I tiptoed down the stairs, careful to tread lightly. I made my way through the darkness of Poppy’s home, trying hard to not make a sound. It was difficult in the dark, but I soon made my way to the kitchen.

The back door was already open ajar. I slowly opened it and walked out onto the patio.

“Sebastian?” I said as loudly as I dared. “Where are you?”

“I’m over here!” in the moonlight, I saw his head peek out over the forest that was June’s vegetable garden.

I jogged down the little dirt path, and met with Sebastian, who was stood waiting for me underneath the large umbrella-like sunflowers. A small lantern was on the ground by side, lit.
His arms were folded across his broad chest. In the moonlight underneath the flowers, he had never looked more alluring to me. Even in pyjamas.

Butterflies danced in my stomach. Unable to bare it any longer, I ran towards him.

Sebastian opens his arms wide and I run into them. Again, like in Diagon Alley, he scoops me up in his arms and spins me around. His lips find mine and kisses me deeply, as if I’m his only source of oxygen and he’ll die if he doesn’t come up for air soon.

I run my hands through his hair. “I’ve missed you,” I breath between kisses.

“I’ve missed you too,” Sebastian replies “Especially being alone with you like this. Any longer and I would have gone crazy.” He stops kissing me, but only so he can cup my face in his warm hands. His brown eyes gaze at me, and his lips curl into a smile.

“You look so beautiful in the moonlight.”

I’m glad then that it’s dim – despite our blossoming relationship, I’ve never been good at accepting compliments. Especially about my appearance.

He places a long, slender finger under my chin and tilts my face up towards his. “I love you, Violet.”

“I love you too.” But it came out barely as a whisper. I was struck suddenly by how good he looked. His dark brown eyes, his jaw which had become more chiselled and angular. Sebastian was a far cry from the boy I had met in fifth year. He was practically a man now.

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. I grab two fistfuls of his shirt and pull him towards me. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

Sebastian eyes glint, and he’s all too happy to oblige. His mouth finds mine again, and his hungry kissing resumes. He pushes me back against the brick garden wall and rakes his hands through my hair. I put my hands on his waist and pull him closer to me.

“You’ve gotten soppy in your old age, Sallow.” I laugh.

“If I have, it’s because you’ve made me soppy.” He pauses for a heart beat “You make me want to be a better person.”

“You are.” I run my thumb over his skin again “You are.”

“Oh, Violet,” he clutches my closely again and the kissing resumes. The butterflies in my stomach are going wild now, and I want him closer, closer to me.

I’d thought a lot about what Poppy had said – about Muggles being more prude, more conservative, and how wizards just…weren’t. I did want to be closer with Sebastian – but I wasn’t sure I was ready yet.

My eyelashes flutter “Sebastian,”

“Yes?” he says in a husky voice.

“I – I just wanted to say that – ”

I never got to finish my sentence. Sebastian let out a high pitched shriek and leapt away from me. Looking down, by his leg, was a large fat gnome the colour of a peeled potato. He was grinning mischievously, having just bitten Sebastian on the leg.

“Bludger!” I cried. Poppy was right – this gnome was persistent!

“Stupid – bloody – gnome!” Sebastian cursed.

“Hang on, I’ve got him.” I wrestled Bludger from the ground and spun him around in a circle. I launched him over the garden wall, but I doubt he went far. His heavy weight meant he couldn’t be launched as far as the other, nimbler, gnomes.

Sebastian clutched his leg, wincing in pain.

“Are you ok?” I asked, looking down at the bite mark. By the light of the lantern why Bludger was provoked. Sebastian had slipped one foot into Bludger’s hole, where he had been sleeping. “Here, let me have a look at it.”

I kneel down on the ground, and so does Sebastian. “It’s fine. The skin isn’t even broken, look.”

“Hurts though,” Sebastian grumbled “Why is it whenever we try and have some romantic time together we always get interrupted?”

“First Mandrakes, now gnomes,” I laugh.

Sebastian gives me a sour look, but then he starts laughing along with me. I end up clutching my sides. “For what it’s worth,” I say, breathless, “This was much more romantic than the Mandrake incident.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. The secret note was a nice touch.”

Sebastian grins. “What did you want to tell me, by the way?” he stands up and holds a hand out to me.

“Oh nothing,” I say taking his hand “it can wait for another time.”

Chapter 10: New Friends

Chapter Text

The rest of the summer whizzes by quickly. We have so much fun, I almost forget that we’re meant to go back to Hogwarts soon – almost.

As much as I loved spending time with my friends, with Sebastian, at Wisteria Cottage, it did start getting a little too cramped for comfort. On the last day of summer, we spend the evening packing, repacking, and remembering if we’d forgotten anything.

“How are we getting to King’s Cross Station tomorrow?” I asked that night at supper “I don’t suppose we could floo flame there?”

“Not to King’s Cross Station, no,” June said “But don’t worry, I’ve thought about this. Your Professor Hecat wanted to wave you goodbye from the platform, so we made some arrangements. She’s staying at a hotel nearby the station, so our plan is to floo flame there at 10 o’clock.” June turned to the rest of us “so please, everyone, make sure you are packed and ready to go by then. The last thing I want for us is to be making multiple trips back here.”

I planned to wake up early the next morning, but I was so excited thinking about Hogwarts and returning there, I didn’t sleep until 3am. The next thing I know, Poppy was violently shaking me awake.

“Violet!” she exclaimed “Wake up! It’s 9:38!”

I bolted up right, my eyes bleary. I stumbled out of bed and looked around. Luckily, my clothes for the day were folded on top of my trunk. All I had to do was get washed and dressed.

“Anne’s downstairs now,” Poppy said “I’m going to take the trunks. You just focus on getting ready.”

“What time did you wake up?” I manage to ask, shimmying my night gown off.

“Ten minutes before you, and even then I only woke up because Anne elbowed me in the head in her sleep.”

“Why are we awake so late? What happened? Where’s your Gran - ”

The bedroom door creaks open. “Your Grandma says breakfast is ready,” Ominis says, sticking his head around the door frame. “She also says sorry for waking you all late, but she – ”

“Ominis!” I shrieked, folding my arms across my chest “I’m naked in here! GO AWAY!”

Poppy launches a cushion across the room, which hits Ominis on the head.

“I – oh.” Ominis’ face turns the brightest shade of red I’ve ever seen in my life. “S-sorry!” he slinks away, closing the door quietly behind him.

“That was mortifying,” I say, getting dressed even quicker.

“It was!” Poppy agrees “Although he is blind, so I suppose if we hadn’t mentioned it he would have been none the wiser.”

I shoot her a look “Not mentioning it would have been weirder. Are you ready?” I asked “Do you have everything?”

“Yes,” Poppy says “Do you?”

I nod. “Let’s go!”

*

We’re half an hour late floo flaming to the hotel, but Hecat looks more relieved than annoyed to see me. As she walks with us to King’s Cross Station, she informs me that Mrs Mason is still a toad. “Perhaps it’ll just undo itself naturally,” she said to me.

“Maybe,” I said, apathetically. I would worry about Mrs Mason later. After an entire childhood of her being awful to me, she deserved some time as a toad.

Platform 9¾ is already crowded with students, talking to parents, and milling around. The scarlet steam engine has pulled in early, and some people are already boarding the train with their trunks.

“We need to get good seats!” Anne exclaims “Boys, you come with me. Help me with these trunks.” And Anne leads Sebastian and Ominis off to the Hogwarts Express.

Grandma June spends the next five minutes fussing over Poppy. She licks a hankie and begins dabbing her face with it. “Grandma!” she protests, her voice muffled.

I chuckle – only for Hecat to start doing the same to me. “I’m fine!”

“You’ve got soot on your cheek,” Hecat answers “I can’t send you back to Hogwarts looking a state now, can I?”

“I’ll be ok, it’s only soot,” I said, wiping my cheeks.

Hecat looks up at me fondly. “You will take care now, won’t you? Look after yourself, keep up with your homework. N.E.W.T.s are more difficult that O.W.L.s so be organised, but also look after your mental health.”

“I will,” I say, softening.

“And write to me lots! I want to hear all about your fun – but safe – adventures.”

“I will. I promise.” I hug her as tightly as I can bare to. She feels so frail in my arms that I fear a firm bear hug would snap her. “You look after yourself too, ok? Let me know if you need anything, anything at all. I – ”

“Oh don’t fuss over an old woman like me. Now go! I’ll see you at Christmas!” Hecat kisses me on the cheek. Someone blows a whistle, and I know now is the time to board.

Poppy and I board the train and we wave manically to June and Hecat as the Hogwarts Express pulls away from the platform. We wave until they’ve disappeared on the horizon.

Poppy lets out a big sigh of relief. “I love my Grandma,” she says carefully “but she can be a little overbearing.”

“Maybe,” I say “but it’s cute to see.”

Poppy sticks her tongue out at me. I laugh. “I’m going to the bathroom, I didn’t have time to go this morning. I’ll meet you in the compartment?”

Not wanting to run into him again, I dive into the nearest compartment. I flatten my back as he walks past, praying he doesn’t look up and decide to look through the window. Luckily, he passes without a problem.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Why did seeing him bother me so much? It was stupid – asinine. It’s not like I could spend the rest of the year avoiding him. And why was I avoiding him anyway? Because he gave me a stupid, vague, lukewarm-at-best-promise that this wasn’t the last he would see of me?

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The next time I see him, I decided, I would face him. I would not hide.

Just then, a voice speaks up from behind me. “Erm, if you don’t mind – would you please help me with this?”

I turn around and see a skinny girl with platinum blonde hair standing awkwardly with a heavy trunk in her hands. “I thought I could manage but – erm, well…”

“Of course, of course,” I said quickly and helped her heave the trunk up onto the rack above the seats.

“Thank you for that,” the girl panted, smiling at me “You came along just in the nick of time.”

“You’re quite welcome,” I smiled back. It didn’t escape my notice that the compartment was empty. “Do you mind if I sit in here for a while?”

The girl beamed brightly at me. “Of course not!” she said eagerly “Please, take a seat.”

I sit down opposite her, and look at her properly. Her hair is tied back in an elegant, but messy, bun. Tendrils of hair escape the knot, which she hastily tucks behind her ears. Her eyebrows are neatly plucked and arched in a way that makes her look confident and brave. Her eyes are a brilliant blue colour, the same hue that I imagine sapphires to look like.

My eyes dance quickly to her left cheek – and then look back. On her cheek, along her jaw bone, is a long shiny scar. The sort you get from bad burns.

“I’m Violet. It’s nice to mee you.” I say, smiling at her.

“Hello, Violet. I’m Clara. Clara Malfoy.”

“Malfoy?” I asked, scrunching my nose up. That surname sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“You might have heard of my brother, Darrian? He’ll be in fifth year now.”

“Oh, of course!” I said. I remembered vaguely of Ominis complaining about him one time. “He’s the seeker for Slytherin, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Clara smiled.

“What year are you in?”

“I’m just starting my sixth year, but…well, I’m new to Hogwarts.”

“Really?” I raised my eyebrows “What school did you come from?”

“Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. It’s in France.”

“Wow,” I breathed “that’s remarkable. What was it like there?”

“Well the school is also a castle, but it’s a French chateau,” she spoke French with an adept accent. “Unlike Hogwarts, which I’ve heard is a big dreary castle.”

“Oh no,” I disagreed “It’s a lot of things, but not dreary. Not at all.”

“What year are you in?” Clara asked.

“My seventh year,” I said, a little proudly “but I didn’t start until I was in my fifth year. I – ”

Clara gave a little gasp. “That’s right – you’re Violet Finch, aren’t you?”

“Um,” my cheeks flushed “I am, yeah.”

“Of course! I thought I recognised your picture from the Daily Prophet!” Clara exclaimed “I followed that news story so closely, I can’t believe I didn’t recognise you sooner! I was so impressed that you took down Ranrok. Even my father said so. He said he would be surprised if you didn’t leave Hogwarts with an Order of Merlin, First Class, for your services to the school and the Ministry.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled and tried to change the subject. “If you don’t mind me asking,” I said “why are you transferring from Beauxbatons?”

Now it was Clara’s turn to blush. “Oh,” she swallowed “Well, I, erm…I needed a fresh start.” She untucks some of the hair from behind her ear and combs it with her fingers, trying to hide the scar on her cheek.

“I’m sorry for prying,” I say “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s alright,” Clara says, perking up a little. “I’m sorry for fawning over you. I tend to put my foot in my mouth a lot.”

“It’s fine,” I say reassuringly. “I – ”

“There you are!” Anne barges into the compartment, interrupting my conversation. “Sebastian’s freaking out because he heard Ominis saw you naked this morning and – oh, hello,” Anne looks at Clara, looks away and then does a double take.

Then, I see something I have never seen before. Anne Sallow’s cheeks glow pink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt – I, um…”

“It’s alright,” Clara says, laughing. She sticks her hand out “I’m Clara Malfoy. Pleased to mee you.”

“Anne Sallow. Are you – are you new?”

Before I know it, Anne sits next to me and begins chatting away with Clara. She repeats the same things to Anne that she’s already told me – her brother is Darrian, she’s transferring from Beauxbatons, and so on.

“You’re in sixth year too?” Anne exclaims “So am I! This means we’ll be sharing a dorm together! Well, if you get sorted into Slytherin, that is. What house do you think you’ll get sorted into?”

“Well my mother didn’t go to Hogwarts. She was born in France so went to Beauxbatons, but everyone on my father’s side of the family gets sorted into Slytherin.”

Anne beams proudly “Excellent. Slytherin is the best house, really. It represents those of great ambition. And loyalty, wit and bravery too, in my opinion. Not like the other houses which are so stuck to one characteristic. No, Slytherin has it all. Also our common room is the best – ”

“Which house are you in?” Clara asks.

“Ravenclaw.” I say “Listen, I’m going to go find Sebastian and the rest. Would you like to sit with us, Clara?”

“Oh!” Clara’s eyes sparkle “I would love to…but I daren’t move that trunk again.”

“That’s ok,” Anne says quickly “I can stay with you, if you’d like? It’s a little too crowded in their for me anyway,” Anne looks at me “Garreth was in there. It’s why I left to find you.”

“Ah, right.” I say nodding. “Well, it was lovely to meet you Clara. I’ll see you at the sorting ceremony!”

As I turn and leave, I hear Clara asking Anne who Garreth is. That will be a fun conversation, no doubt. I make my way back down the train, peeking into compartments, looking for my friends. I find them at last, but it’s a tight squeeze.

Sebastian, Ominis and Poppy are sat on one side, and sitting opposite them is Garreth and –

“Oh,” I say, unable to keep the disappointment out of my voice. Everyone in the compartment looks up at me.

“Violet! There you are!” Sebastian stands up, and despite the tight space, stands next to me and puts his arm around me. “Allow me to introduce you to Thackeray Grayson. He’s in his final year of Hogwarts as well.”

Sat next to Garreth is the white haired boy from Madam Malkins. He looks up at Sebastian and I, and smirks. It unsettles me. “Don’t worry, Sebastian. We’ve already met.”

Chapter 11: A Special Announcement

Chapter Text

A Special Announcement

For the rest of the journey, I sit squished in between Sebastian and Thackeray Grayson – the boy with the white hair. Sebastian made Garreth switch seats with him, right before he turned to Thackeray Grayson and said: “So when did you two meet before?”

I open my mouth to speak, but Thackeray beats me to it. “We met at Madam Malkins,” he said coolly “She made a very big impression on me.”

Poppy shoots me a look – really? The look in her eyes asks.

I flash my own eyes back at her – No! He’s lying and I don’t like him.

Poppy pursues her lips and shoots Thackeray a look. She is now also wary of him.

The boys, however, are practically friends with him by the end of the long train journey. They spend the entire time journey swapping stories of pranks and tricks they’ve pulled at school, and then discuss Quidditch at length. Thackeray transferred from Ilvermorny, so Sebastian, Ominis and Garreth spend their time schooling him on which teams they thought were best or the worst.

Poppy and I slink out of the compartment unnoticed when it’s time to change into our uniforms.

“And say what?” I argue back “That I spoke to this one boy and he was weird?”

“What did he do that was weird?”

“He was just abrupt and mean to me. Acted stuck up. But then when I left he said something along the lines of “We’ll meet again Violet Finch.” But I never even told him my name!”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Poppy chides.

“I didn’t think much of it,” I lied, trying to downplay the chills that he gave me.

“Hmm,” Poppy says, buttoning her waistcoat “Sounds suspicious to me.”

“It’s probably nothing,” I said, thinking about Clara Malfoy. She told me that she’d read all about me in the Daily Prophet, and she seemed perfectly normal. “Probably nothing.” I repeat again, but this time I’m not sure who it is I’m trying to reassure.

When we’re finished changing, I tell Poppy I’m going to see Anne. I think she could tell this was my subtle ploy to get out of seeing Thackeray again, so I’m pleased when she smiles brightly at me and links her arm in mine once more.

We find Anne and Clara giggling enthusiastically over a game of exploding snap. I introduce Poppy and Clara, and we all start playing exploding snap together. After a few more hours, the sun has set well beyond the horizon, and has coated the Scottish highlands in darkness.

The Hogwarts Express pulls into Hogsmeade Station just before dinner time. As Poppy and I shuffle out onto the platform, I notice Clara biting her lip anxiously.

“Sorry,” she says looking around. “I don’t know where I’m going…Do I go with the first years?” Her neutral school robes look big on her skinny frame, and she looks like a lost child.

“No, you can come with us,” Anne says smiling at her. She steers Clara towards the carriages that take us to Hogwarts. “It’s alright, Violet was new here once, a couple of years ago. We’ll look after you.”

Clara smiles gratefully at us. Her blue eyes nearly pop out of her skull though when she gets a look at the Hogwarts carriages. At first I think it’s because she’s in awe of the size and grandeur of the carriages. I know I was when I first saw them.

But then a thestrals stirs, exhaling plumes of steam from its nostrils, and she backs away from them, startled. Clara Malfoy can see thestrals.

“It’s ok,” I whispered to her as Anne helped Poppy load her trunk into the carriage. “They’re friendly. Don’t let their appearance frighten you.”

Clara looks at the creatures a moment longer before replying. “What are they?”

“Thestrals,” I say and pause before I could ask her my next question: is this your first time seeing one? But I swallow it down and bury it deep inside me. I already made her uncomfortable once by looking at her scar. I didn’t want to do that again. Not before she’d even been sorted into a house.

Clara looks around, and watches as Duncan Hobhouse walks into one. He stumbles and drops his trunk, which bursts open. His clothes and books fly everywhere. As Duncan stoops down to pick up his things, Clara leans towards me. “Can no one else see them?”

I hesitate. “We should talk about this later,” I say “Thestrals…can be a tricky topic.”

“Can Anne and Poppy see them?”

“Poppy can’t,” I answer “I – I’m not actually sure about Anne. Her brother, Sebastian, can.”

Clara nods, and accepts this an answer for now. I can only imagine how frustrated she must be. When I came to Hogwarts, I wanted to know the answer to everything all at once. Though, I suppose it wasn’t as intense for her. Clara, at least, had been to Beauxbatons.

As Clara climbs into the carriage, I hear Sebastian’s laughter ringing in the distance. I look over at him, and see he, Ominis and Thackeray Grayson are all laughing loudly at some joke Garreth has made.

Sebastian sees me looking and waves at me, his grin as wide as a crescent moon. I hold up my own hand and wiggle my fingers back. Thackeray turns and looks at me. His mismatched eyes scan me up and down before looking away.

I could not put my finger on it, but there was something about him that made me incredibly uncomfortable.

*

When we arrive at Hogwarts, both Clara and Thackeray separate from the large crowd of students to join the first years for the sorting ceremony.

“Good luck!” Poppy whispers to Clara. Anne sticks her thumb up at her.

We enter the Great Hall, and then separate further. Last year, Professor Black made a big stink about students sitting at their allocated house tables; but since he had left and Professor Weasley took over, the rules around seating had been relaxed. That being said, she did like for us to sit with out houses for the sorting ceremony, and the end of year feast.

I sit next to Amit at the Ravenclaw table. He smiles enthusiastically at me. “Hello Violet! Did you have a nice summer?”

“Yes,” I said “it was alright. How was yours?”

“Oh it was excellent! My parents took me all the way to America for a sight seeing tour of mythical beasts. It was very enlightening. And of course, we went stargazing at the top of – “ Amit’s sentence was cut off.

Professor Onai, the new deputy head of the school, walked in. She was leading a pack of nervous looking first years – Clara and Thackeray stood out like sore thumbs. “Two new students?” Samantha Dale muttered, her eyes glued to Thackeray. “The boys not bad looking either. Here’s hoping he gets sorted into Ravenclaw.”

“Welcome back, students. It is lovely to see you all again. I shall not stall what needn’t be stalled – I know we are all eager to see our young newcomers sorted into their houses.” Professor Weasley smiled brightly.

I hear someone in the Great Hall clapping wildly. I can only assume it’s Garreth. He was very proud of his aunt becoming headmistress, even if it meant he could no longer even think about being mischievous.

Professor Onai picked up an old, worn leather hat. It had creases which looked like eyelids, and were folded into a scowl. It had a rip for a mouth. As Professor Onai set it down on the three legged wooden stool, the hat have a wheezy, little cough before bellowing out:

Don't despair, don't look sad,
I may look old, I may look mouldy,
But I'm not all that bad!
I am the magnificent sorting hat,
And it may surprise you to hear,
I know a thing or two at that.
Centuries have brought students
To my stool from all over,
To be sorted by me in a moment!
Where do you belong? Let us discover!
Shall you belong in wise Ravenclaw?
There dwell the creative and clever,
And crave to learn more!
Or do you perhaps belong to Hufflepuff?
Be fooled not by their kindness, those
For they are made of sterner stuff!
Maybe you're destined for Slytherin?
Where your metal will be forged strong,
For they are fraught with ambition!
I have saved the best for last in store
(Call me biased if you want, I was Godric's cap)
Could you make your home in Gryffindor?
Here live the brave and fearless heroes
Who crave adventure and much, much more!
Start your journey, fill your head with stuff!
And Don't forget: Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus!

The hall erupted into applause as the Sorting Hat concluded his song. Professor Onai then stepped forward once more, and unfurled a long roll of parchment. “When I call your name, please step forward and sit on the stool…Alexandra Arnold!”

A small first year girl with blonde pigtails stepped forward, looking scared. She sat on the stool, and the Professor Onai placed the hat on top of her head. The hat sat there for no longer than ten seconds before it bellowed “You belong in…Ravenclaw!”

The hall once more applauded, but the Ravenclaw table was particularly rowdy. Professor Onai continued down the list, and the first years went to sit with their new, respective houses – and then suddenly, she called out:

“Thackeray Grayson!”

The applause in the hall quickly died down as people eagerly craned their necks to get a better look at the white haired new boy. He struts confidently up to the dais, shooting Professor Onai a charming smile. I lower my head a bit, afraid there was a chance Thackeray might spot me in the crowd.

Professor Onai plops the hat on his head, and the Sorting Hat frowns. “Hmm…” it muses “You’ve come all the way from across the pond, I see…but where to put you…” Silence follows. The Sorting Hat snorts, as if Thackeray has mentally told it a funny joke. After a minute, the hat reaches its conclusion. “Clearly there’s only one place you belong…”

Please, I beg silently, please, please, PLEASE, let it be anywhere but Ravenclaw!

“Hufflepuff!”

Merlin’s beard! I let out a relieved sigh, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders melt. If he was not in Ravenclaw, then it should be easier to avoid him as much as possible.

Thackeray steps down off the dais, and as he does parts of his uniform transform into a rich golden yellow colour. I look across the hall to the Hufflepuff table, where Poppy is applauding, a small strained smile on her face.

She looks at me and rolls her eyes. Just my luck!

I chuckle, then shoot her a grin. Better you than me!

It made me feel so much better that Poppy disliked Thackeray too, even if she was only doing it because he made me feel uneasy. Was it immature and stupid? Yes. But it still felt good. It made me feel less crazy, less alone.

Besides, I mused to myself, maybe he’s just awkward and doesn’t know how to talk to girls?
That would certainly explain his odd behaviour in Madam Malkins.

Several more students pass, and then before I know, Professor Onai is calling out:

“Clara Malfoy!”

Again, the hall goes silent as students try to get a good luck at the new, yet older, student. Unlike Thackeray, Clara does not revel in the attention. Her eyes on cast downwards, and she’s combing her fingers through her silver blonde hair like she did on the Hogwarts Express, trying to hide the scar on her face.

She sits down on the stool, and Professor Onai places the Sorting Hat on top of her head. The hat’s creased, leather faces makes a puzzled expression. We wait a minute. Then another. Then another. Then another. As we approach the fifth minute mark, Amit leans in close and whispers “I think she might be a hatstall!”

“A hatstall?” I echo.

“She is!” Samantha Dale joins in, looking at a pocket watch she has tucked into her waistcoat “it’s nearly six minutes now!”

“I think that’s the longest in Hogwarts history!” Amit gasps, his eyes shining.

“What’s a hat stall?” I ask.

“Sometimes, in rare cases, the Sorting Hat will struggle to place a student into a house because they might fit into more than one Hogwarts house!” Amit said gleefully “but it’s only a hatstall if it takes longer than five minutes. Such an event is so rare, we’re lucky to be witnessing it!”

Another minute passes.

Clara’s cheeks are scarlet with embarrassment. The longer the hat takes, the more worried she looks.

“Y’know,” Samantha says in low voice “I heard she had to be transferred from her old school, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Apparently, she got into a really nasty fight – ”

“And how do you know this?” I interrupted, feeling defensive on Clara’s behalf. “She’s just got here and you haven’t even spoken to her yet.”

Samantha narrows here eyes at me. “My brother William is friends with Darrian.” She says tartly. “He told me what Darrian told him. He even spent Christmas with the Malfoys, once,” Samantha taps her cheek with her finger “and she didn’t have that scar then. I’m just saying.”

“Well maybe if you spent a little less time ‘just saying’ and more time studying, you would have scraped together some decent grades in your N.E.W.T mock exams last year.” I said stiffly “I mean, really. I heard that Everett Clopton even did better than you!”

Samantha’s mouth drops open, and her eyes spark with a sizzling hot fury. I know I’ve taken it too far, but I couldn’t help it. I felt the need to defend – no, protect – Clara from the vicious Hogwarts rumour mill. If she could barely tolerate being on the dais in the Grand Hall, she would hate to be made infamous before her first day of lessons.

Samantha opens her mouth to retort, but before she can, the Sorting Hat finally announces his decision.

“Looks like it’s…Slytherin!”

Clara beams at last, and exhales. She steps down off the stool, and parts of her uniform transform a bright emerald green. I smile as I watch her as she runs off to join the rest of the Slytherins. Samantha is still glaring at me hotly.

I ignore her as best as I can. As the Sorting Ceremony comes to its final student, we all look eagerly to the lectern where Professor Weasley is once again stood. I clutch my stomach as it lets out an unruly growling sound. Samantha snorts.

“Before I open up tonight’s feast,” Professor Weasley says. The hall silences instantly, out of respect “I have the usual notices to give you. For our first year students, please be aware that the Forbidden Forrest is so named for a reason. You are explicitly forbidden from entering unless you receive permission from a member of the faculty.”

Professor Weasley pauses for a moment, and students murmur. Most likely because of how oddly she worded that…students could be given permission to enter the Forbidden Forrest?

“Furthermore, due to an unfortunate incident that happened last year, including a charmed bludger and an alarming amount of second years, I am now imposing an age restriction on student visits to Hogsmeade. First and second years are prohibited from leaving school grounds, unless to leave the holidays. Third years and up must have a signed permission slip to allow them to visit Hogsmeade.”

A collective groans rings around the hall, but Professor Weasley ignores it continues. “Now…I have a special, exciting announcement.” She pauses for dramatic effect, and the groans die out. “Many of you may be familiar with the Triwizard Tournament. For those of you who are not, it was a competition designed to unite the magical schools of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. It was banned over one hundred years ago due to the danger it posed to students, and the high death count of participants.”

An excited, and eager murmur erupts again. Professor Weasley allows it for five seconds before continuing. The room falls silent again. “It is my utmost pleasure to announce that the Ministry of Magic is considering reinstating the tournament once more…and in doing so, is conducting an experimental trial this year at Hogwarts!”

Now it’s pandemonium – students are gasping, cheering, talking enthusiastically. This time, Professor Weasley has to raises her hands and gesture for silence in order to calm down her audience. “However, in order to maintain student safety as my top priority, there are stipulations. Firstly, this trial will only be occurring at Hogwarts. Because of this, I will allow a member from each house to compete. That being said, only those from seventh year are allowed to compete due to the dangerous and unpredictable nature of the challenges. And best of all, the winner of this challenge…will receive a go with a Ministry-approve time turner!”

Before the hall can go wild again, Professor Weasley dismisses us for the night. The Prefects stand up and lead the first years away first, while the rest of us dawdle, looking for our friends to discuss Professor Weasley’s announcement.

It did sound exciting; but no where near tempting enough for me to break my promise to Hecat or Sebastian. This year was my year of glorious mundanity, and I planned to enjoy every average, mediocre minute of it. Even if it meant sacrificing a go with the time turner…

Chapter 12: The Second Nightmare

Chapter Text

Once we were dismissed from the Great Hall, Poppy walked over to me. “The boys want to meet us in the Undercroft.” She whispered, linking arms with me.

“Ok,” I replied. We waited a minute or two for the corridors to clear, and then headed in the direction of the Dark Arts tower.

“Did you see the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?” Poppy asked.

“No,” I said lamely. I guess I’d been so focused on Thackeray Grayson that I hadn’t even looked at the professor’s table.

“Really?” Poppy raised her eyebrows “I’m surprised. Half the girls in there were swooning over him.”

“Samantha was eyeing up Thackeray,” I say “and then started gossiping about Clara.”

“Really? What did she say?”

I hesitate, not sure if it was ok for me to repeat what I’d heard – but I knew I could trust Poppy. She would never pass it on, or use it against someone to hurt them. “She said she was transferred from Beauxbaton’s because she had a fight there. That was it.”

“A fight?” Poppy’s eyes widened, and so did her smile “Well, she’ll fit right in here.”

We reached the Undercroft and climbed down the stairs. Waiting for us, with the braziers lit and blankets and cushions laid down on the cold hard floors, was Sebastian and Ominis.

“So what do you think?” Sebastian asked, eyes glittering excitedly “The Triwizard Tournament! How amazing is that?”

“You’re going to enter?” I asked, sitting down next to him on a cushion.

“Of course!” he exclaimed “There couldn’t be a better way to test all we’ve learned at Hogwarts! In fact, if you ask me, I think they should scrap the N.E.W.T.s and just do a practical exam like this, where they challenge us.”

“It’s an interesting idea,” Ominis mused “Though I’d definitely fail the potions part.”

Poppy patted Ominis’ hand sympathetically. She then turned to me. “Are you going to sign up?”

I snorted. “No! I told you all, I plan to have a quiet year.”

Poppy and Sebastian stared at me. Ominis grinned.

“What?”

“Well…I know it’s not your fault…” Poppy said slowly “But you’ve got to admit, trouble has a way of following you around.”

My jaw dropped open. “I beg your pardon?!”

Ominis was biting back laughter.

“She doesn’t mean it in a bad way,” Sebastian said, as he watched Poppy drown for words. “Just that – well, you are pretty famous for everything that happened and – ”

“You’re right!” I said hotly “I am famous, and I wish to Merlin I wasn’t! It’s not great being pointed at and paraded around, y’know, when you just want to do your homework and watch a Quidditch match and go for butterbeers with your friends!”

Poppy, Sebastian, and Ominis all fall quiet. Yet I can’t help myself. It felt like I was being accused of something bad, even though it wasn’t my fault. My tirade continues. “If you want to talk about the stuff I did,” I hissed “Then lets list all the things you guys did, shall we?”

I turn to Poppy “You took down a ring of poachers! You destroyed Horntail Hall! You returned a dragon’s egg to its mother and didn’t even have the good sense to not look it in the eye when you were backed against a cliff! And you!” I whip around to look at Sebastian. “Sneaking into the restricted session? Helping me fight Ranrok’s Goblins? Fighting Rookwood with me? Any of that ringing a bell?”

Both Sebastian and Poppy look away, ashamed.

“Merlin,” Ominis chuckles “I would pay all the money in my vault to see the looks on your faces.”

I went to bed that night feeling very grumpy at both Sebastian and Poppy. Both of them tried to apologise, and gauge me in further conversation; and even though I kept muttering “it’s all right” they both knew better.

I just couldn’t believe the way Poppy would come out and say that – as if I was the problem, as if I was the one who willingly went out searching for trouble. Which is a fat load of irony, because out of the four of us, it’s only me and Ominis who have never gone out looking for a fight. Not the same Poppy and Sebastian did, anyway.

Even in bed, I couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal. Even when I tried daydreaming, and thinking about what I would do I won a go with a time turner. Hecat would want me to do something sensible with it, like use it help find my brother; but I knew what I’d want to do.

I’d want to see her. My mum. Abigail Spindle. Just once. Only once, and I wouldn’t even talk to her. I’d just…sort of admire her from a distance, I suppose. As weird as that sounds.

I shook my head and burrowed my face into my pillow. No. I was not going to do this to myself. I was healing. Healing from trauma, still. Doctor Bulstrode would say something like only a person with low self-esteem would sign up for this mock Tri-wizard Tournament. Or someone who was attracted to danger.

And I was not one of those people. I hated danger. I’d had more than my fill of adventure. My resolve was rock solid on that matter. I was not going to be one of those people, this year. I would not be some crazy person risking my life for a dumb prize. I would not sign up, and that was that.

*

I was dreaming.

“We’re doing well,” Professor Spindle said, smiling brightly at me as she poured tea into my cup.

I smiled half-heartedly at her. “Yeah, yeah we are…”

She turned her eyes on me. “Something the matter, sweetheart?”

I wanted to scream at her. Spit in her stupid, grinning face. “No,” I said simply “just tired. I’ve been trying to make sure I stay on top of my homework.”

“Well I hope you’re not working yourself to hard,” Professor Spindle said, cutting a slice of chocolate cake and putting it onto a plate for me. “You have to save some energy for our experiments.”

I looked down at my plate. “Yeah…”

Professor Spindle’s looked at me, her eyes wide and empathetic. “I know it’s hard. But just think how our research will help so many people! It’ll all be worth it in the end, you’ll see.”

“I know,” I said, shoving a mouth of cake into my mouth and chewing. “I know.”

“Mark my words,” Professor Spindle said, sipping from her cup “They’ll remember the name Spindle, one day. In fact, I was thinking we could name the spells after us. Call them something like the ‘Spindle Incantations’ or the ‘Spindle Charms’. What do you think?”

I didn’t reply. I just kept chewing my cake silently, the way a sad cow would chew grass over and over until it turned into mush.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Professor Spindle asked, looking over her glasses at me. “You really are quiet this evening.”

“It’s fine,” I replied self-consciously. “I just…” I shrug, searching for the right words to tell her how I felt. The right words to tell her how I felt without offending her. Making her angry. “I’m just glad we’ve done with this project,” I said tenderly “It’s been taking a lot of my time. I need to focus on my application for that program I told you about – the one is Australia.”

Professor Spindle sipped her tea stoically. “I see.”

“Don’t be mad,” I pleaded “It’s just this is really important to me and – ”

“More important than helping people defend themselves against the Unforgiveable curses?” Professor Spindle said sharply.

“Professor,” I said pleadingly “please…forgive me.”

“Forgiveness is earned.”

I swallowed. “What…what can I do?”

“We keep going with our research. We have made great progress with counteracting the Imperious Curse. I see no reason why we should not go further.”

My heart sank, and I felt the blood drain from my face. It felt like my entire bodied had suddenly turned to ice. “Professor – you said – you said we wouldn’t even touch the others!”

Professor Spindle took her glasses off her face and rubbed her eyes. “I know,” she said gently “I know.”

“So we can’t do it!” I exclaimed.

Professor Spindle looked up at me. She had two dents on her nose where her glasses had sat. “On the contrary, we must do it. I used to have a fiancé, y’know…Stanley Podmore. The finest Auror the Ministry of Magic ever had…do you know what happened to him?”

I knew the story well. “Yes, Professor.”

“He was tortured into insanity.” I didn’t say anything. I just looked down at the half eaten slice of chocolate cake, the lingering taste of it turning sour on my tongue. “If we have the ability to help people, it is our duty to. I have tried nothing but my best to teach you that much, at least.”

“Yes, Professor.” I answered. “I know.”

She replaced her glasses on her nose and looked at me solemnly. “So what do you say? I promised I would never hurt you, and I intend to keep that promise. We would have to start on small animals first. Spiders, perhaps?”

My gut was screaming at me to say no, run, shout, hide, anything – but just like in my last dream about Professor Spindle, I was powerless.

“Yes, Professor. Let’s do it.”

“Excellent!” she beamed, clapping her hands together “Your mother would be so proud of you!”

*

I woke up with a start. It took me a moment too long to realise I was laying in the bottom bunk of the Ravenclaw girls dormitory.

Bright rays of sunlight were streaking in through cracks of the curtains. I sit up, rubbing my eyes, before jumping out of my skin. I nearly fall out of bed.

“Deek!” I whisper “You really need to learn to start knocking!” but it was hard to even pretend to be mad at him. The house elf looked more or less the same since I’d last seen him, except that his eyebrows and beard had gotten longer, bushier, and greyer.

He looked up at me with wide, hopeful eyes. “Forgive me, Miss. Deek was hoping you would visit the Room last night, but you didn’t,”

“Oh,” I said, my stomach twinging with guilt “I went to bed early…I got into a heated argument with Poppy and Sebastian.” Recalling last night, I felt even guiltier. I completely lost my mind at them for no reason, for something that was meant to be a harmless joke. I should have known better; Poppy and Sebastian would never hurt me that way.

“Deek has wonderful news!” he exclaimed excitedly, his eyes flashing.

“Oh?” I stretch and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “What is it?”

“Deek is in love!” the house-elf beamed.

“Oh, Deek,” I smile “That’s wonderful to hear! What’s their name?”

“Bauble,” Deek said with a small, goofy little grin on his face “She works in the kitchens, miss! She is in charge of making the cakes and pies, and – oh, Deek apologises, miss, he is forgetting why he came to fetch you in the first place. Professor Weasley wishes to see you in her office.”

Chapter 13: Unlucky

Chapter Text

Although Deek’s message has me riddled with anxiety (what could the headmistress want with me this early into term?!), I went all the way down to the Great Hall first. I needed to see Poppy and Sebastian, had to apologise to them for last night…

I scanned the hall for my friends, but could only find Poppy. She was eating some toast, and reading this morning’s Daily Prophet. I wasted no time running over to her.

“I’m sorry,” I say again “I was an idiot last night. A complete and utter plonker. I know you and Sebastian didn’t mean it that way.”

Poppy gives me a reassuring smile “Don’t worry about it. We forgive you.” She swallows her mouthful of toast “We’re sorry about it too. It wasn’t until you left them Ominis pointed out how accusatory it sounded.”

“Well, let’s just sweep it under the rug for now,” I say, reaching for the plate of bacon and eggs. “Where are Sebastian and Ominis?”

“I think they’re sleeping in,” Poppy said “they were still awake and talking when I left the Undercroft last night. Oh, also, Anne’s looking for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah. Something about Professor Weasley wanting to see you?”

As if she could sense when someone says her name, that was when Anne showed up behind me. “There you are!” she sat down next to me, and pushed away my plate. “Come on, Finch. We’ve got to see Professor Weasley.”

Anne was freshly showered and dressed, ready for the day. She was wearing her hair down. It had grown just past her shoulders.

“I just got here!” I protested “Can’t I at least have breakfast first?”

Anne groaned, as if I was asking something impossible of her. “Fine, but you have ten minutes. I’m an entire year behind and I refuse to miss so much as a minute of any of my lessons.”

“It feels a little uncanny,” Poppy said, folding the newspaper “Seeing you so serious about your studies.”

Anne shrugged. “I did alright in my OWLs, but I want to absolutely smash my NEWTs.”

“Do you have an idea about what you want to do after Hogwarts? I’m thinking of becoming a ministry representative for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.” Poppy poured some pumpkin juice into three goblets and handed one to each of us.

“Well,” Anne said ambitiously “I’m thinking of either becoming a private detective, an auror, a journalist, a curse breaker, or Minister for Magic.”

“Wow,” Poppy co*cked her head, unsure if she was being serious “your NEWTs cover a wide range of careers.”

“What about you?” Anne turns to me. I was hoping if I just kept quietly shovelling bacon into my mouth I could avoid this question. “What do you plan to do after Hogwarts?”

“Um…” I wiped my mouth with a napkin, hoping to buy time.

“Hang on, let me guess!” Anne claps her hands together “You’re going to become an Auror, and you’re going to continue taking down evil, notorious dark wizards after dark wizard, until your head Auror and have a dozen Order of Merlin awards. Am I right?”

I twisted my hands in my lap. “I hadn’t thought about it,” I confessed “I just – ”

“Oh, come of it, Vi. You’re the most successful witch this school has seen in centuries. Are you really trying to tell me that you don’t have a plan? You really have no idea what you want to do after school?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed “This is only my third year in the wizarding world, after all. How can I be expected to choose a career when not long ago I thought I was going to have to be a maid. Or a beggar. Or worse.”

“Well, I’d get thinking about it, if I were you.” Anne said, folding her arms. “Also, you have some egg yolk, just right there.” She tapped the corner of her lip, and I furiously wiped my mouth again.

“Anyway, see you later, Pops,” Anne stood up “Come on. Let’s go see what Professor Weasley wants us for.”

Pushing my plate away from me, I followed. Poppy shot me a sympathetic smile as I followed Anne morosely out of the Great Hall.

I could appreciate that my friends were just looking out for me, but they also seemed to be annoying me lately by doing so. First Sebastian and Poppy last night, now Anne. Could it be possible I’d been an arrogant show off all this time, and not realised it?

No. Someone would have told me. Unless they felt sorry for me?

I shook my head, as if that could erase these intrusive thoughts. Why was it that the older I got, the more unsure I felt about myself? And my future? It almost makes it hard to believe that it was me who did any of those things the Daily Prophet talked about.

“I can hear you overthinking from here,” Anne said I was climbed the stairs to the astronomy tower. “You’ve got ages to decide what job you want to do. And even then, it’s not permanent. Loads of wizards and witches go through career changes. Look at Hecat. She was an Unspeakable for the Ministry, then she taught Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

I looked down at my shoes. “I might not know what job I want to do, but I want it to be something worthwhile. Something where I help people.”

“Like an Auror?”

“No!” I said, a little too loudly. “No, not an Auror.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. But I want to help people, and I don’t want to be famous. I want to live a peaceful life.”

“Sebastian had mentioned you’d been saying stuff like that.” Anne rolled her eyes. “About wanting a peaceful life. I spent a year being homebound and it drove me crazy, hence why now I’m determined to squeeze every little bit of adventure out of life while I can.”

I bit my tongue. This is what I meant – was she supporting me, or ridiculing me? It felt a lot like the latter.

“And I think your mad.” She said.

“Mad?” I stop dead in my tracks and look at her “Why do you think I’m mad?”

“Because whether you want it or not, Violet, you’re already famous. Use it to your advantage. Anyone in their right mind will give you a great job the minute you graduate.”

“But I don’t want to do that,” I mumbled “I want to earn my place.”

“And that,” Anne concluded as we reached the gargoyle outside of the Headmistresses’ office “Is why you’re in Ravenclaw and not Slytherin.”

I pursed my lips. Not even Professor Hecat gave me this much of a hard time.

Anne and I wait for about five minutes, before we’re joined by two other students; Clara Malfoy, and – and Thackeray Grayson.

My heart sinks at the sight of him. He struts along the corridor, his black and yellow tie askew, and a crooked grin spread across his arrogant face. I could still not work out why he unnerved me so much.

“Good morning, ladies,” Thackeray says smoothly. His voice is deep, calm and confident. I hate it.

Anne returns his smile. “Good morning, Thackeray,” her eyes move over to Clara, and I see them light up “Good morning, Clara.”

“Ah,” a voice comes from the direction of the gargoyle. Professor Weasley has descended the stairs, her hands clasped together. “Good morning, students. If you’d like to follow me into my office, we have much to discuss.”

Anne and Clara walk off first, already whispering excitedly to each other as they link arms. Thackeray and I both try and walk into the door way at the same time, squashing each other.

“Ladies first,” Thackeray smiles at me, his eyes shining. He removes himself from the doorway to let me go first. I try to smile back, but I can’t seem to make the muscles in my cheeks lift upwards. Instead, I just nod then speed walk ahead.

I climbed the stairs quickly, following Anne and Clara.

Once we had all gathered, Professor Weasley took the seat at the helm of her desk and smiled at us.

“Thank you for coming to see me this early. I know how eager you must all be to get to classes and resume your studies. However, I think this warranted particular attention,” Professor Weasley gestures to Clara and Thackeray. “It is a rare thing to have a new student at Hogwarts who isn’t a first year…but two. Well, it’s certainly something.”

“Thank you for your kind welcome,” Thackeray says in an oily voice “It’s exciting to be at Hogwarts.”

Clara just smiled, her hands clasped together demurely.

“Well, I shan’t keep you long – Anne, Violet. I have selected you two for a special job. As we have two new students, I thought you would be the best fit to help them settle down and become acquainted with life at Hogwarts.”

“Like when Sebastian took me to Hogsmeade?” I asked. I hadn’t intended to speak up, but the memory popped into my head suddenly, as pristine as crystal, as if it had just happened yesterday.

“Exactly, yes!” Professor Weasley smiled “and as you’re one of Hogwarts’ brightest pupils, perhaps you can also aide Mr Grayson with his NEWT examinations.”

My stomach sank. What?

“Wait,” I said “Mr Grayson? As in - ”

“As in myself,” Thackeray says, turning to me. He extends his hand “Nice to meet you.”

“Is there a problem, Violet?” Professor Weasley asks.

“No,” I swallow the lie “Not at all.”

“Excellent. Let me know how you get on. I know this a tremendous responsibility, for you both, but you should be proud of this.” Professor Weasley smiled candidly. It was beginning to annoy me. “But they did ask for you specifically by name.”

Anne smiles and looks at Clara. “You did?” I hear her whisper.

Clara’s cheeks flush pink, and I can’t help but feel the sting of jealousy. I wish Clara had chosen me. I wish I’d been chosen to clean the animals pens for the rest of the school year than be chosen by him.

“I’ve taken the liberty of matching your timetables exactly,” Professor Weasley says, handing us each a time table which had our names written on the top. “To make things easier. That’s all for now.”

Chapter 14: Family Reunion

Chapter Text

I tried to hide my disappointment at being paired up with Thackeray, but I feared I might not have been that successful.

As soon as we left Professor Weasley’s office, Clara and Anne linked arms and practically skipped away – which left me alone with Thackeray.

I swallowed. I picked at the skin around my fingers, racking my brains for something to say, but my mind had gone blank.

“So what lesson do we have first, partner?” Thackeray asks. I look at him, and see a wide grin plastered across his face. He’s getting some sort of sick joy out of seeing me nervous.

“We have Defence Against the Dark Arts, first.” I said stiffly.

“Alright, no need to be snotty.”

“Snotty?” I shrieked “Snotty?! Me?!” I spun around to face him – he was unnervingly tall. The top of my head would have barely grazed his chin. Nonetheless, I still poke my finger into his chest, accusing. “You’re the one whose being acting snotty! And weird! What’s the deal with you at Madam Malkins, hm?”

Thackeray looks away from me and folds his arms. “I’m not here to make friends, Finch. You don’t have to show me around the school. I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it.”

“See? Snotty!”

“We have to get to class, now. I’ll see you there.” Thackeray pushes past me, and I feel my face burn with the indignity of it.

Stubbornly, I wait a minute to give him a head start. There’ s nothing more awkward than walking in the same direction you hope to avoid. Once I’m certain he’s gone, I make my way down the winding stair case. To my surprise, Poppy is waiting there for me, faithfully. I notice her cheeks are also flushed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“That – that new boy!” Poppy hisses under her breath “He called me a cutie! Then when I told him I had a boyfriend, he said he didn’t ask for my life story!”

My jaw dropped. “He’s so rude!” I quickly explained what Professor Weasley had wanted us for, and how I had been roped into guiding Thackeray around the school – only he made it clear he had no intention of hanging out with me, ever. “I’d give a thousand Galleons to know what his problem is with me.”

“And he’s in all our lessons?” Poppy asks, as we begin making our way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

“Every single one of them!”

“That’s awful,” Poppy shook her head “I think Sebastian and Ominis get along with him as well.”

“How am I going to explain to Sebastian that I don’t like the new kid at Hogwarts without having a good reason?”

“I think you have a good reason,” Poppy sniffed “He’s rude. And even if he hadn’t been, you could just tell him the truth about what he said at Madam Malkins.”

“Yeah, but you know what Sebastian’s like,” I said “He’ll just tease me that out of all the threats and dangers I’ve faced, I should be able to cope with someone being a little mean to me.”

“And then you remind him who beat him in a duel when you first arrived at Hogwarts,” Poppy laughs “I can still remember the look on his face. It was hilarious!”

I laugh too, thinking about the first time we’d met – and duelled. Sometimes it was hard to believe that I’d only known Poppy, Ominis and Sebastian for three years. It felt like I’d already known them an entire lifetime.

We continue laughing and joking, nearing our classroom, when I see Poppy’s face fall. She turns pale, and her eyes grow big, like saucers, as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

Ahead of us is Professor Garlick speaking to a woman I’ve never seen before. She’s tall, skinny, and has shiny black hair cropped into a sharp looking bob. She wears a long grey trench coat, which has an uncomfortable sheen to it – as if it’s made out of animal hide.

Poppy takes a step back – first just the one, then two.

“Poppy?” I whisper, grabbing hold of her robe “Are you ok?”

Professor Garlick laughs at something, then walks away. I turn to look – the woman in the grey trench coat turns to look at us, and she gives us a sickly sweet smile which makes my stomach turn. She had the same smile Ominis’ father had.

Then I realise – she’s staring at Poppy. I look back and forth between them; Poppy is frozen like a rabbit whose staring down the mouth of the wolf whose about to eat her.

“Alrigh’ Popkins?” the woman says. Her voice has a broad, Yorkshire accent to it. “Long time, no see.”

Poppy’s hands are clenched into tight fists, the knuckles look like white peaks against her pink skin. Her brown eyes sparkle with the telltale sign of tears.

“What? No hug for yer old mum?” the woman grins, baring sharp canines. She really is like a wolf. I notice that she has a purple cuff around her arm with the insignia of the Ministry of Magic on it in gold.

Poppy turns on her feel and runs away. “Poppy!” I cry out after her.

The woman turns her attention to me, now. “An’ you must be Violet, right?”

I swallowed, but must have found my courage somewhere in the seconds it took me to reply. “Yes.” I said boldly. “I am.”

“We got that in common, y’know.” She says, eyes flashing hungrily.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Violet. My name’s Violette, too. Though, you can call me Lettie. Never been one for the posh sorta names.”

“Right…well, I need to get going.” I said stiffly, and turned on my heel. I felt her gaze on me until I disappeared around the corner.

I spent five minutes searching the corridors for Poppy, until I remembered where she goes when she’s at her most saddest, her most vulnerable – by the lake, trying to catch a glimpse of the giant squid.

I run to the lake, dodging Prefects along the way, and sure enough I see her there, sitting underneath a crooked tree which has begun to shed its orange leaves.

Poppy is tucked between the roots, hugging her knees close to her chest, tears already pouring down her cheeks. Scrunched up in one hand is a slice of crumpled looking toast.

I kneel down next to her. “Poppy?” I say gently, and put my hand on her shoulder.

Poppy flinches, like she’s been struck by a lightening bolt. She turns to look at me, only just realising I’m there. “Oh,” she sniffs, and wipes her cheeks “Hey. Sorry for running away.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” I say “I can’t imagine what it must be like running into your mum like that.”

Poppy sniffs again, and realises she has toast in her hand. “I was saving this for lunch time,” she said sadly “Now it’s all – mushy.”

“Gertrude will still love it,” I said “she loves toast! And she loves you.”

Poppy offers me the ghost of a smile. “Thanks. I…it was just so jarring. It was bad enough when she sent me letters to my Gran’s house, but to actually see her in person like that…”

“I know, Pops.”

“But you don’t!” she said urgently “You don’t know the full story of it.”

It was true. The most Poppy had ever said about her mum and dad was that they were poachers, and that’s why she lived with her Gran. She never offered further details, and we never thought to ask for them, either. Why would we?

“You don’t have to tell me,” I said “Your past can stay just that – past. I know that sounds corny, but you know what I mean.”

“But it can’t, Vi. I think my past is catching up with me at last.”

“Why?”

Poppy swallowed. “For the past five years, since I was in third year, my mum and dad have been in Azkaban.”

I felt my eyes widen at that. Azkaban had a notorious reputation. “What for?” I asked softly. “Poaching?”

Poppy nods “But it gets worse, Vi.”

“Worse how?”

Poppy squeezes her eyes shut buries her head in her knees. “I’m the one who put them there.”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard properly. “You – you put them there?” I repeat in a low voice.

“Yes,” Poppy whispers. “Aurors got scent of their operation, and raided their house. They had evidence, but they weren’t sure they would have enough to put them away in Azkaban, so they asked for me to give a testimony. Gran was livid and wouldn’t let me do it. She said I was too young to be doing something so grown up, but I insisted.”

“It was a brave thing you did.” I squeezed her hand “it’s always hard doing the right thing, isn’t it?”

Poppy nodded. “I didn’t eat for a week after it. But I told myself I’d done the right thing. The creatures of the wizarding world were safe, for a while at least.” She smiles fondly, but then her eyes mist over again. “That coat she’s wearing? It’s made out of Moon Calves.”

“M-moon calves?” I stuttered.

Poppy nods. “At least seven.”

“Oh Pops,” I put my hand to my mouth “That’s terrible.”

“That’s not even the worst of it. It was awful, Violet, living with them. The…the pain, the torture -”

“Don’t.” I said firmly “Don’t talk about it until you’re ready.”

“And what if I’m never ready?” Poppy says, looking at me.

“You will be,” I smile “We all take our time, but you will be eventually. That’s what Dr Bulstrode first told me when Professor Hecat sent me to see her. They thought I’d want to repress everything that happened with Spindle.”

“And do you?”

“No. I’ve accepted the facts. I can’t change the past, but I can control what I do now in the present – and I choose not to give that monster so much as an inch of my mind, my life. She doesn’t deserve that.” I look out at the lake.

If I did have any worry, it’s that people would forever associate me with Spindle – with Ranrok. There were worse things in the world than being seen as a hero, but at the same time, I didn’t want to be famous.

Poppy sniffs, and thinks for a moment. “You’re right, Violet.” Poppy stands up, brushes herself down, and throws the toast into the lake. A moment later, a long, coral tentacle bursts from beneath the lake and snatches the toast.

“I won’t let her have that hold on me anymore. I’m the not the weak little girl she thinks I am. We’ve fought lots of Dark wizards! We saved a dragon!”

“You stared a dragon in the eyes and lived!” I exclaim, throwing my arm around her shoulder. “You’re Poppy Sweeting, and only a fool would underestimate you!”

“Only fools underestimate us!” Poppy beamed.

With Poppy considerable cheered up, we walk arm in arm together to class – which we were considerably late for.

Chapter 15: Duelling Professor Ruby

Chapter Text

As Poppy and I approached our classroom, I stopped. Poppy didn’t ask me why, but looked at me expectantly anyway.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” I asked her.

Poppy took a deep breath. “I am. For now.” She offered me a smile.

“Ok. Let’s go in.”

“I hope this new professor is nice,” Poppy muses “and doesn’t give us too harsh a detention.”

Professor Hecat hadn’t let so much as a single word slip about who would be replacing her as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. I was so worried at the Sorting Ceremony the first night back, I forgot to even check the dais of professors for any new or unfamiliar faces. I didn’t even know if the professor was a male or female yet.

Luckily, to our surprise, no one even noticed us entering the classroom. Everyone was crowding around a long, rectangular table. As we walked closer, we saw Cressida Blume duelling with Amit Thakkar.

Poppy must have forgotten all about her mum after seeing this, as her eyes went wide with excitement. We quickly dump our bags by our empty desks and run to join the crowd.

By the looks of it, Cressida is destroying Amit. He’s got inches left before he’s knocked off the table and loses the duel.

Desperate, Amit aims his wand and sends several blasts at Cressida - she blocks them and waves them away, as if she’s swatting away at annoying flies.

“Go Cressida!” People cheer. “Go! Get him!”

Cressida hits him with bombarda, and Amit teeters backwards precariously, his arms windmilling desperately for balance. “I yield!” he shrieks “I yield! You win!”

But Cressida seems determined to show off – or impress someone – and hits him again with bombarda. Amit is sent flying halfway across the classroom, and collides into the stone wall with a sickening thud. His body goes limp and fear floods my heart.

For a second, the room falls silent. Deathly. Everyone is holding their breathes. When a few seconds pass and Amit still hasn’t moved, I can’t bear it anymore. I shove students out of the way and run to his side.

“I – I didn’t mean to!” Cressida cries desperately.

I kneel down next to Amit and take his hand in mine. His pulse is strong, thankfully. “Amit?” I shake his shoulder, hopefully. “Can you hear me?”

“Move.” A deep, calm voice booms from above me.

I turn and look – against the sunlight pouring in from the arched windows, I just make out the appearance of the new professor. He has chestnut, curly hair that flops over brilliant blue eyes. His got an angular jaw and high cheek bones – I suddenly understand why Cressida had been duelling so hard.

If I had to guess, Thackeray Grayson wasn’t the only new heartthrob that had the girls swooning at Hogwarts lately.

I glare at the new teacher, and clench Amit’s hand in mine.

“I can help him,” the professor says, kneeling down. He’s wearing a black shirt, tie, and waistcoat. “But you need to move.”

Reluctantly, I let go of Amit’s hand – but I hovered nearby, watching carefully what he was doing. The professor reached into his pocket and took out a small phial with made of dark brown glass. He uncorked it and hovered it under Amit’s nose – smelling salts, I think.

In the space of a breath, Amit jolted awake. His face crumpled and he put his hands on his back. “Oooww!” he cried.

“Are you ok?” I said, biting my lip “Can you stand up alright?”

Amit looks at me, then the new professor. He blinks a few times, as if he’s forgotten where he is. Then, realisation dawns across his face. “I can, yes.”

We watch as Amit stands up stretches. “This will be the most interesting duel to write about in my biography one day!”

Cressida breathes a sigh of relief, and everyone laughs.

“I believe that’s enough of student duelling in one day,” the new professor announces. Everyone turns and listens to him eagerly. I spy Sebastian in the crowd and see how his eyes have lit up, positively glowing with admiration. He never looked at Hecat like that, I thought sourly.
“Now it’s time for a real demonstration – with our two new latecomers.”

“Me and Violet have to duel each other?” Poppy grins at me, relishing the opportunity at some friendly competition.

“Oh, no,” the Professor smirks “You must duel me. If one of you can beat me, then I won’t give you a detention. Does that sound like a good deal?”

“Of course!” Poppy grins widely at me. I wished I’d been given a say in it. As Poppy takes her place opposite the new Professor, the crowds gathers forward eagerly trying to get a good view of what’s about to happen.

Not so eager myself, I hang back and stand next to Ominis.

“Ominis,” I whisper “Whose this new Professor, then?”

“He’s called Professor Ruby. He hasn’t said much about where he’s from or what he did before coming to teach at Hogwarts. Either way, he says he’s only here for a year, then he’s off again.”

“Off again to where?”

Ominis shrugs “He also said something about being a mentor for the new wizard competition thing.”

“You mean the Tri-wizard tournament?”

“Well, it’s not really the Tri-wizard tournament, is it? It’s a weird watered down version the Ministry is going to try and get approved for Merlin knows why.”

“I take it you won’t be entering?”

Ominis snorts. “My father was obsessed with that stupid tournament. He spent more than half of his ministry career trying to bring it back. I refuse to even acknowledge it.”

I open my mouth to reply, but before I can, I hear the crowd gasp and Poppy shriek. Both Ominis and I snap our heads to the source of the sound.

“Poppy?” Ominis cries “is she alright?”

I stand on my tip-toes and try to get a look. “She’s fine – she just lost.”

Hair ruffled and cardigan askew, Poppy stands back up. She scowls at Professor Ruby, then looks sharply at me. Kick his arse!

I gulp. Students stand aside to let me pass. Poppy squeezes my shoulder reassuringly, letting me know she has endless faith in me. I wish I’d been paying closer attention to their duel now. I had a chance to study his techniques, any tells he might have had, and I’d squandered it. Bloody hell.

“Give him hell, Violet!” Sebastian shouts as I take my place across from Professor Ruby. I smile, but blush.

“I’ve heard you’re Hogwarts best duellist,” Professor Ruby said.

“Maybe,” I said coyly.

He smiled and looked like he was going to retort with another quip. Instead, he yells: “Levioso!”

“Protego!” I block, but barely in time. It makes me loose my footing, and Professor Ruby seizes the chance.

“Stupefy!”

“Protego!” I block again – the second I finish, I aim to launch a curse his way. “Glacius!”

But somehow, he’s one step ahead of me. “Expelliarmus!”

My wand flies out of my hand and clatters to the floor. I stare it dumbly. “That’s against the rules!” I splutter “I thought you weren’t allowed to use Expelliarmus in a wizard duel!” I sound like a child throwing a tantrum, but I didn’t understand.

“Usually,” Professor Ruby says, taking a step closer “but what no one tells you about real combat is that people will seldom follow rules.”

I felt my face flush red. Was he really going to tell me how real life wand combat worked?!

Someone from the crowd must have also felt angered by this. “Violet!” I’m surprised to see Cressida throwing my wand to me.

I catch it, and decide to unleash the full force of my magic on Professor Ruby – perhaps turning him into a plump little chicken will teach him some manners.

I take my stance and aim my wand at him, feeling ancient magic begin to swirl through my veins, vibrating my bones with its potency. But before I can even cast the spell, Professor Ruby hits me with something completely unexpected.

“Legilimens!”

His spell hits me and I feel my head throw back. I’d heard of the ‘mind reading’ spell before, but I’d never had it performed on me.

It felt like falling backwards into a pool of cold water, except I saw flashes of memories race across my eyelids. One moment I was riding in a carriage with Professor Fig – the next moment, I was scrubbing the floors of Morningside Orphanage – the next I was drinking butterbeers with Poppy – the next I was kissing Leander Prewett –

Just when I felt like it wouldn’t end, it suddenly did. It was like resurfacing, breaking free from water, and I could finally breath again. I doubled over and fell to my knees.

“Yield?” Professor Ruby calls out to me.

I let my hair fall and hide my face. Flooding with shame, I nod. I had a lot of fight left in me, but I couldn’t risk him using that spell on me again. I had secrets that weren’t my own to protect.
I had Poppy’s, Ominis’…Sebastian’s. I would never live with myself if he got sent away because someone else learned what happened in the Feldcroft Catacombs.

“And there you have it, students,” Professor Ruby continued “another lesson to learn from today – Legilimency. I myself am a skilled Legilimen, but it takes little effort at all to penetrate ones mind. In my opinion, you could call it the Fourth Unforgiveable curse.”

I stand back up, and dust myself down. Until Christmas, Professor Ruby tells us we will be studying something called Occlumency – a way to strengthen the mind to protect against Legilimency.

“And that’s not all,” he continues “as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, I get to set the NEWT exam. To pass my class this year, I expect to duel each and every one of you. If you win, you pass. If you lose, you fail.” He slowly turns to look out at the crowd of students. “Any questions?”

Chapter 16: Anne's Cunning Plan

Chapter Text

“No!” Poppy said firmly, but I saw her bite her lip as if that was exactly what she was worried about. We reach the girls’ toilets on the second floor; I don’t question what Sebastian is, or was, doing in there with Anne. I just follow Poppy as she swings the door open with a THUD.

Sebastian is pacing outside of the end stall, biting his fingernails. When he sees me, his face lights up for a brief moment. “Violet, thank god you’re here!”

“What’s happened?” I asked.

“We were walking down to the Great Hall,” Sebastian said as calmly as he could “When Anne said she felt sick she – she ran into the cubicle and I’ve not made her make a sound since!”

“Have you tried alohom*ora?” Poppy asks.

“I did, but look – ” Sebastian points to a little scrap of parchment that says out of order on it. “Moon must have put a special sort of charm on it,”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” I frowned “How did she get in there in the – ”

“There’s no time for questions, Violet!” Sebastian exclaims “We have to knock the door down!”

“Alright, alright,” I say, grabbing my wand. “Do you think bombarda will work?”

“It should,” Poppy agrees “I can run and get Mr Moon if not.”

“Ok – stand back – ” I grip my wand tightly “bom – ”

“Wait, wait, WAIT!” A voice from the other side of the cubicle shouts. I hear Anne fumbling with the lock as she hurries to open the door.

Only, it isn’t Anne locked in the cubicle; It’s Clara.

“Ok, pardon me,” Poppy says “But what the f*ck?”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” I say as I crane my neck to look behind Clara. There’s a small, pewter cauldron sitting on the toilet sit, and lots of small phials, books and diagrams pinned to the walls. “What are you doing in there Clara?”

“Well I wasn’t going to let you blow the door down,” Clara says stiffly, glaring at Sebastian “Thanks for trying to stop her!”

“I wasn’t going to let her!” Sebastian says.

“You liar!” Clara shoots back, but she’s struggling to hide the smirk on her face.

“It would have been funny to see,” Sebastian says “But awkward to explain.”

“Ok.” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose “Explain to me what’s going on. Right. Now.”

“Oh my darling Finchy-poo,” Sebastian sweeps me into his arms and dips me “where would the fun in that be?”

“I will break your nose!” I hiss “Tell me!”

“Um,” Poppy says “That’s not Sebastian.”

I break free of Sebastian’s grip and look at Poppy. She’s examining one of the diagrams that was pinned to the cubicle. “If I had to guess,” Poppy says “That’s Anne playing a sick joke on you.”

“Anne?!” I exclaim.

Clara and Sebastian – Or Anne? – burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry!” Clara says, wiping her eyes delicately with a finger “Anne talked me into it – said it would be funny!”

“It was funny!” Sebastian/Anne exclaims. “Did you see the look on her face!” she pulls an impression of me “So serious!”

“f*ck. You.” I seethe, clenching my fists. I turn on my heel to walk away, but Sebastian/Anne catches my arm.

“Whoa, hey, alright, I’m sorry. I went too far.”

“We thought you were ill!” Poppy says scowling “We thought that – that the curse was playing up again.”

Anne’s cheeks turn pink, and the familiar look of shame I’ve seen Sebastian wear appears now. “Sorry,” she mumbles “I didn’t mean to worry you guys that much.”

“I was going to blow the toilet door off!” I scream. My voice echoes around the girls’ toilets, and for a second it is deathly quiet. We can only hear the slow drip – drip – drip from the taps.

Then, I hear Poppy splutter – she starts laughing, which sets Clara and Anne off again.

“Stop!” I shout, stamping my foot “it wasn’t even funny!” but their laughter is contagious, and I can’t help but laugh along with them.

“So what is – this?” I ask, gesturing to Anne’s transformed body. “Polyjuice potion?”

“It can’t be,” Poppy says “that takes 28 days to brew, and we’ve only been back two days!”

“Well I can’t tell you all my secrets,” Anne says “But let’s just say Garreth showed me how to brew a Polyjuice potion that doesn’t take as long.”

“And what do you plan to do with this apart from pranking people?” Poppy asks.

“Isn’t it obvious, Pops?” Anne grins “I’m going to sign up for the tournament!” My jaw drops open.
“Anyone for breakfast?” Anne asks, still grinning.

Anne flaunts past me and Poppy, and Clara. The three of us run to catch up. On the way back down to the Great Hall, Poppy and I try our best to talk Anne out of this.

“You need to focus on your sixth year!” I say “You can’t afford any distractions.”

“And what happens if you walk into the hall and Sebastian’s already there? What if he’s entered?”

“He’s not going to enter,” Anne says confidently. “He’s following Little Miss Boring over here and not bothering.”

“Not wanting to enter a death tournament doesn’t make me boring, Anne!” I hiss.

Anne shrugs nonchalantly. “I think it’s time for some adventure of my own.”

When we arrive at the Great Hall, Poppy, Clara and I take a seat and watch as Anne, disguised as Sebastian, takes a green envelope from a prefect and begins to queue. She scribbles her name on the piece of paper and seals it.

“Do you think she’s actually going to do it?” Clara asks us as she gets closer to the queue.

“Yeah. If I know Anne, without a doubt.” Poppy says half-heartedly. She’s spooning her porridge around, playing with it. I can tell, without even asking, it’s because her mother is also in the Great Hall.

She’s sat up on the dais, next to Professor Ruby, eating breakfast. She’s eating bacon ravenously, and Professor Ruby looks put off by her bad table manners. I wonder what he would see in the mind of Lettie Sweeting?

I give Poppy’s free hand a reassuring squeeze. She smiles gratefully at me.

“Um,” Clara says, worry ringing her voice “Something’s wrong…”

I look up, expecting to see the real Sebastian walking in. Instead, Clara points to Anne, whose almost at the pensieve. Something is going horribly wrong with her appearance – her face (or rather, Sebastians) is beginning to droop, like it’s melting. Her arms are growing longer, until at one point they begin to drag along the floor.

“Oh my god!” I say, clasping my hands over my mouth in horror. “Is she alright?”

Poppy stands up, but before we can even make another move, Professor Sharp intervenes.

“Another quick Polyjuice job, eh?” he mutters, shaking his head “Best get you to the hospital wing, Sallow. The infirmary’s full of students like you who tried to do a botched Polyjuice.”

“Bhut myeh entreh!” Anne tried to say, but her jaw was beginning to droop at an alarming and terrifying pace.

“Nice try. Infirmary. Now.”

As Anne leaves the Great Hall, the walks in with Ominis. Sebastian looks aghast at the disfigured image of himself. He spots me and takes a seat.

“What on earth was that monstrosity I just saw?” he asks.

Poppy snorts, unable to control her laughter.

“Would you believe me if I told you it was Anne?” I grin.

Chapter 17: The Champions

Chapter Text

Aside from Anne’s transfiguration nightmare, the rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Well, more or less.

Anne is released from the hospital wing two days later, but her arm is in a sling. Since she tried to enter the tournament under false pretences, she was given detention for the rest of the week.

“I’ve been sentenced to help Scribner in the library!” she moaned at dinner time “Can you believe it? One arm and I have to help out that cantankerous old witch!”

“It could be worse.” Clara says, trying to reassure her.

“You’re right,” Anne grins “I could still look like Sebastian!”

We all fall about laughing at that – even Sebastian.

The only other thing that is bothering me lately is Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Ruby set homework on legilimency – two feet worth of parchment! – about what it is, how it works, and what it means for both the caster and the person it’s cast on. Most importantly, whether or not we think it should legally be made an Unforgiveable curse by the Ministry of Magic.

For those who disagreed with him, he used the spell to see their most embarrassing moments. They soon changed their mind. And if that wasn’t bad enough, one day we walked in and their were mini pensieve basins at our desks.

“Remove your worst memories,” he told us “Anything embarrassing. Anything private. Anything you would not want your peers to know about.”

We obeyed, but it made me nervous. As far as I was concerned, there was only one memory worth protecting. I couldn’t care less if anyone else saw my embarrassing or private memories. He then paired us up with another student. We had to take it in turns – one casting the legimens spell, the other practicing occlumency, to shield against it.

“We will rotate partners weekly,” Professor Ruby announced “So you don’t get too familiar with the minds of one person alone.”

He neglected to mention how draining occlumency was. After the first lesson, when I had to try and block out Poppy, I was so tired I skipped the last two lessons of day and fell asleep until dinner time. It made the other students’ sluggish, but no one else seemed as exhausted as I was.

“Maybe it means you’re doing it right,” Poppy said that night at dinner “or it could be an ancient magic thing?”

“Maybe,” I yawned. I slept another twelve hours after dinner.

I couldn’t wait for the weekend to come. I spent Thursday night working tirelessly until 3am to make sure all my homework was done for the weekend. I wanted to enjoy doing nothing with my friends.

Sebastian and I had a date arranged at Steeply and Sons, the cute little tea shop in Hogsmeade; and on Saturday night, Poppy, Anne, Clara, and I had all planned to have a sleepover in the Room of Requirement.

If that wasn’t exciting enough, Deek wanted me to meet his new house-elf friend, Bauble; the one he was in love with! It was going to be a fantastic weekend!

I was tired Friday morning, but I was otherwise ok. Today was a half day – we only had two lessons, and then they were going to announce the champions for this tournament. Since it wasn’t officially a tri-wizard tournament, people had simply just taken to calling it the Hogwarts Tournament.

My two lessons were spent in double potions; Professor Sharp was talking about the potion Felix Felicis.

“Out of all the NEWT potions you make this year, this is perhaps the simplest – the recipe is straight forward enough. That being said, why does the Ministry recommend a limited use of the potion?”

Amit put his hand up “In large doses the potion is highly toxic.”

“Well done,” Professor Sharp said “Points to Ravenclaw. Now, a simple brew it may be, but it like with any concoction, if brewed incorrectly then the consequences can be disastrous. For this reason, I recommend you pair up.”

As students began to pair up, Professor Sharp walked over to my cauldron station. “Professor?”

“Miss Finch, may I be inclined to ask you to work with Garreth?”

“Garreth?” I echoed. I looked over to where Garreth was set. He had his head in his hand, doodling on some parchment aimlessly. Clearly, he had not been paying attention.

“Garreth was enough of a nuisance when he was enthusiastic about potions,” Professor Sharped said so only I could hear “I fear what he might do when he’s melancholic.”

“I’ll look after him, sir.” I said.

Professor Sharp smiled at me. I walked over to Garreth. As he saw me approaching, he screwed up the parchment he’d been doodling on and stuffed it into his pocket. “Hullo.” He said miserably.

“Hi Garreth. It’s been ages since I’ve spoken to you. Did you have a nice summer?” I smiled and sat down on the stool next to him.

He looked at me expectantly, his green eyes shining. “Didn’t you hear? Anne broke up with me.”

“Oh!” I bit my lip. How could I have been stupid enough to forget that? “I’m sorry to hear that, Garreth.” What else was I meant to say? It would be awkward telling him he could do better when Anne was my friend.

Luckily, he changed the conversation. “Did you enter the tournament?” he asked, lighting the fire.

“Me? No.”

Garreth raised an eyebrow “Really? Why not?”

I sighed again. I was getting sick of saying it at this point. “I just want a normal year. No heroics. No theatrics. No drama. Just good NEWT grades and to figure out what the hell I want to do when I leave Hogwarts.”

“You don’t know either, huh?” Garreth grinned.

“Nope. Not a clue. Sebastian and Ominis are starting a business where they make magical items to help witches and wizards with disabilities. Poppy is probably going to become Minister of Magical Creatures or something…and me? No idea.”

“Really?” Garreth scoffed “The Hero of Hogwarts has no idea what she wants to do? Surely you’d be an Auror?”

“Well surely the Potions Prodigy would want to open a potions shop,” I shot back “Or teach it.”

“Touche,” Garreth laughs. “I’ve entered, by the way. The tournament.”

“Really?” I’m surprised by this. Garreth didn’t seem the type to compete at anything, or commit to any extracurriculars.

“Yes…Why is that so surprising?”

“I – er – I guess I’ve just never seen you duel before.” I said quickly.

“Hm. Pass the Ashwinder eggs.”

That was all the conversation I got from Garreth – from then on he stuck to just making the potion. Which turned out brilliantly, but even that didn’t cheer Garreth up. It was so odd to see him this sad. He must have really been torn up about Anne.

When the lesson ends, everyone dashes to the Great Hall. Lunch time is a quick affair. Students eat quickly, and after just one course the plates disappear and the tables are cleared. The excitement in the air is palpable.

Sebastian, Poppy, Ominis and I all sit together – Anne and Clara left us to try and get a seat as close as possible to the front of the dais, where the stone basin was emitting a warm, golden glow.

First years are shouting and talking wildly with excitement, while the older years act more nonchalant. Poppy and I definitely fit into the latter category, but Sebastian and Ominis are betting who from which house is going to be picked.

On the dais, standing next to Professor Weasley, is Lettie Sweeting. She’s grinning, but it isn’t a friendly smile. It’s daunting.

“Are you alright?” I ask Poppy, squeezing her hand again.

“Yeah,” she replies “I can handle this.”

“Ok. If you can’t, we can go to the Room of Requirement. See all the animals. I know Ganymede misses you.”

Poppy’s face lights up. She loves Ganymede, the phoenix I rescued, and he seemed to have a soft spot for her as well.

Professor Weasley takes her spot at the lectern, and the hall grows quiet. “Welcome, students, to the first Hogwarts Tournament!”

A cheer erupts around the room. People clap, stamp their feet, and someone even sets off some Filibuster Fireworks.

“I know you’re all as excited as I am to see who our esteemed Hogwarts champions are going to be,” Professor Weasley says, gesturing for quiet once more “However, you must first allow me to introduce you to the Referee of the tournament – Lettie Sweeting!”

I see Sebastiana and Ominis’ eyes widen. “Did she – she say Sweeting?” Ominis asks.

Poppy looks down at her knees. “We’ll explain later,” I mutter. Professor Weasley continues to talk about how Lettie Sweeting was chosen as the Referee by the Minister of Magic himself – her job is to organise the challenges, the selecting of the champions, and making sure everyone plays fairly.

“Poppy,” I whisper “Do you want to leave?”

She shakes her head.

“Now, over to Lettie Sweeting to pick our champions!”

The students cheer again, and more fireworks are set off.

“So as you know,” Lettie Sweeting roars over the noise “students from each house have been putting their names in this basin all week – each envelop has a name written in it.” She pauses for effect “I assume I don’t have to explain the colour co-ordination of the envelopes to houses to a bright bunch like you, eh?”

Students laugh, and I can sense it unnerves Poppy even more to see people getting along with her mother.

“So let’s skip to the good part!” Lettie Sweeting exclaims, and claps her hands, encouraging another raucous round of applause. She walks to the basin, reaches deep inside the shimmering, golden water, and fishes out an envelope.

“Ah! Green – Slytherin’s first,” Lettie Sweeting grins as she peels the envelope open. The Hall falls silent once more as students hold their breath, waiting to hear who the first Hogwarts Champion will be.

“And your first champion is…” Lettie Sweeting says slowly, savouring the tension and the attention on her. “Imelda Reyes!”

More whooping, cheering and applauding – Imelda Reyes stands up and basks in the glory as she makes her way to the dais. She’s grinning from ear to ear. I can only imagine what she’s thinking right now – probably something about how brilliant she is and how she’ll decimate the competition.

“And for our next Hogwarts champion…” Lettie Sweetie cries, dunking her hand elbow deep back into the basin. This time she takes a while rooting around. When she pulls out a scarlet envelope, the hall falls silent once more. The Gryffindors wait eagerly, unable to contain their excitement on who their house champion will be.

“And the Gryffindor contender is…” Lettie Sweeting opens the envelope “Garreth Weasley!”

“Garreth?!” I can only just hear Anne’s incredulous remark over the noise of the hall.

I turn to look at Garreth, whose smiling as brightly as he can manage. He isn’t used to show boating and being the centre of attention. Unlike Imelda. She’s making a show of sneering at Garreth.

“Moving on!” Lettie Sweeting cries. Her hand goes back into he basin; this time, she pulls out a yellow envelope. “Now for the Hufflepuff champion! Now this one I can’t wait to see!” Lettie Sweeting grins. She unseals the envelope, and before tension builds, announces the next champion. “Thackeray Grayson!”

I feel my heart sink. I’d managed to avoid Thackeray for the better part of the week. He was in all of my classes, but he didn’t speak to me and I didn’t speak to him. This seemed to work for us.

Thackeray is worse than Imelda for showing off. He saunters down the aisle between the table, waving to people, blowing kisses, and when he gets to the dais, he even bows. It disgusts me.

“Good old Grayson,” Sebastian laughs “Y’know, I reckon he could win this.”

I purse my lips, but didn’t say anything. Even Imelda applauds Thackeray, and I can see two pink spots on her cheeks. Another one who fancies him. Great.

Lettie Sweeting turns back to the basin.

Poppy leans in towards me. “I feel sick,” she says “Could we leave?”

“Of course we can,” I reply “Do you want to go now? Or wait until other people start to leave?”

“I think I can manage,” Poppy says glumly “Do you think people are staring at me?”

I glance around the hall. Everyone seems to focused on the blue envelope Lettie Sweeting has in her hands. “No,” I reply “Are you worried about people knowing you’re related?”

Poppy doesn’t answer, but she swallows and nods slowly. Her hands are clutched tightly into her lap, but I see them shake anyway.

“Er, Violet?” Sebastian says.

I ignore him. “Ok, let’s go now. I think this things over now, anyway.”

“Violet,” Sebastian says again, a little louder and more urgently.

“Yes?” I say, a little impatiently. My voice echoes around the hall, which unnerves me. I glance around, and I see people staring at me. Did I do something wrong? Had I been whispering too loudly?

“Stand up!” Sebastian exclaims.

“Why?”

“She said your name!”

“What?” My voice echoes louder around the hall.

“Ahem,” Lettie Sweeting clears her throat impatiently. “I said – Violet Finch!”

Chapter 18: The Malady of Clara Malfoy

Chapter Text

What happened next felt very much like an out of body experience. I stood up, and walked up the aisle to the dais. I couldn’t quit tell you what I was thinking. I think I was in shock, or hoping that this was some stupid sort of joke. I remember thinking to myself not to trip – not in front of Thackeray Grayson, anyway.

Once I took my space on the dais, Professor Weasley resumed her place at the lectern. “Well, there you have it!” Professor Weasley announced “We have our champions!”

The next thing I knew, after another tremendous applause, the students were being dismissed from the Great Hall.

Professor Weasley then turned to us. “Come see me first thing Sunday morning. We need to assess your wands are in tip top shape before the trials begin.” That word – trials – swirled around my head and seemed to pull me back down to Earth. I did trials in my fifth year. I did not want to do anymore.

“Professor,” I say, as Imelda, Garreth and Thackeray file out of the hall. “Professor I need to speak to you.”

“What is it, Violet?” Professor Weasley asks. “Are you ok? You look pale.”

“Professor, I think there’s been an awful mistake,” I said weakly “I didn’t put my name in the basin. At all!”

Professor Weasley frowns. She looks up at Lettie Sweeting, who just shrugs. She has no idea what’s going on either. “May I see the Ravenclaw envelope you drew from the basin?”

“Of course, Professor.” Letting Sweeting hands over the cerulean envelope. Professor Weasley takes out the piece of parchment and reads the name on it herself. She then hands it over to me. There, in black and white, is my name. Violet Finch.

I bite my lip. “Professor, I know this is…awkward, to say the least, but…I didn’t put my name into that basin.” I repeat.

“Well, you must’ve,” Lettie Sweeting grunted “Proof’s right here.”

“It is, Ms Sweeting…but I’m inclined to believe Violet. If she says she never entered, then she never entered.” Professor Weasley answered.

Lettie Sweeting blinked. “That’s all fine and dandy, Professor…but what do we do about the Ravenclaw champion?”

“Violet,” Professor Weasley says calmly “I take it that you do not wish to participate in the tournament?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I don’t.”

“Well then,” Professor Weasley said “It seems quite obvious to me. We shall draw another champion from the basin, on Saturday night.”

Relief floods through my body. “Thank you, Professor.” I smiled gratefully at her. I was so happy to have her as Headmistress. If Professor Black was still in charge, I just know he’d force me to do it.

“Now go join your friends. I’m sure they’re eager to hear this story.”

And she was right; waiting on the stairs for me outside of the Great Hall are all of my friends. All of them. Clara, Anne, Sebastian, Ominis, Poppy, Garreth – even Natty!
At first they all look at me incredulously. Then, they all stand up and hurry towards me, all of the gabbling a million questions at me.

“You told me you weren’t entering!” Anne pouted.

“What did you speak to Professor Weasley about?” Poppy asked, tugging on my arm.

Natty looks at me confused – I think she was going to congratulate me, rather than question me.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” I said “and I’ll explain everything.” So we moved, en mass, to the top of the kitchen stairs. It was usually quiet here, save for one or two Hufflepuffs who was heading down that way to their common room.

I spoke rapidly, trying to get the story out, this misunderstanding explained as quickly as I could manage it. Sebastian and Poppy looked relieved when I told them Professor Weasley was going to let me forfeit.

“I don’t understand,” Natty said, blinking “Why enter the tournament in the first place if you were not going to see it through?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Poppy said hotly, jumping to my defence “Clearly this has something to do with my – with my mother!”

Natty looked uncomfortable. I felt bad for her; she only came to wish me luck, and she didn’t really know any of us that well for us to be blurting accusations about our families out loud.

Anne crinkled her nose. “And why would your Mum want to enter Violet in a competition?”

“I don’t know,” Poppy said, crossing her arms “but I’ve just got a feeling it has something to do with her! It’s too big of a coincidence. She’s probably doing it to get back at me.”

“But,” Ominis said calmly “Why Violet? It could have been any of us.”

“I suppose she saw us together, that one time.” I offered, trying to make sense of it.

“Exactly!” Poppy said, jumping up “See! She picked Violet because she’s the only person she can be sure of that I’m friends with!”

“Because she…saw you two together? Once?” Ominis sounded sceptical.

“Why are you all so adamant it wasn’t her?!” Poppy shrieked. Her voice echoed around the stone stair case, leaving a cruel and harsh sound. I Natty slowly walk away, hoping to disappear unnoticed.

“We can’t accuse her without a good reason,” Ominis replied “Without a motive.”

“She has motive!” Poppy cried, coming close to tears “She wants to get her revenge on me!”

“Revenge?” Anne said “But why?”

“Because – I – well…” Poppy wrung her hands together worriedly, desperate to tell the truth but unable to do so in front of people she did not know well enough yet – people like Garreth, and even Clara.

“Are we having a party here or something?” A voice slices through the awkward silence. Everyone turned around. Grinning at us all was Thackeray Grayson. “You’re standing in the way.” He says, looking at Clara and Anne.

“Oh, right…sorry.” Clara mumbled stepping aside with Anne, making room for him to step past.

Thackeray winked at her “No problem, sweetheart.”

Anne scowled and Clara’s cheeks turned pink.

Thackeray’s grin disappeared when he saw me. “So the famous Violet Finch hasn’t finished having adventures, I see,” he snorted “I had no doubt you’d enter. Probably not finished showing off about how clever and smart you are.”

“I beg your pardon?” I hiss, squaring up to him. He towers over me, and although I try my best to look intimidating and dauntless, I feel myself shrinking under Thackeray’s imperious glare.

I needn’t have bothered, though. Sebastian stepped in between us – he was the same height as Thackeray, and he seemed to step down as Sebastian squared up to him. “Watch how you talk to my girlfriend, mate.” He said calmly and evenly. Sebastian was always the most intimidating when he was calm.

Thackeray seemed to realise that instantly – he had to save face, though. “Sorry, mate,” he said, yawning as if he was bored. “Didn’t realise. Just friendly banter. Right, Violet?”

“…Yeah.” I say slowly. I try to smile, but I can’t quite make my lips curve upwards.

“Well, I’ll see you guys later then.” Thackeray waved lazily and descended the stairs towards the kitchens.

As I watched him walk away, something clicked inside my mind. “Well, I guess we know who put my name in the basin, now.”

*

Sebastian, Ominis, Poppy and I stayed up late arguing about who we thought had put my name in the basin. Poppy was adamant that it was her mother, trying to scheme and plot revenge by targeting the people she loved best.

Ominis remained sceptical, saying we needed more evidence before we began jumping to conclusions.

I hoped Sebastian would be on my side, but he wasn’t. He had a hard time believing Thackeray would set me up like this, even though he had just witnessed how vile he could be to me on the staircase. I’d filled him and Ominis in on what happened at Madam Malkins.

“He doesn’t even know you,” Sebastian kept insisting “Why would he go to such lengths to bully you?”

“Bully me?” I scoffed. “You think this is bullying?”

“Well what else am I meant to call it?”

“That’s not the point!” I gritted my teeth “The point is I don’t trust him and he’s planning something.”

“He hasn’t even done anything to you!”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not scheming!” I said.

“Violet, come on, you’re starting to sound – ” he paused, biting his lip.

“Go on,” I dared “say it!”

But he never did finish his sentence. At that point Poppy and Ominis separated us for the night.

As I walked all the way back to Ravenclaw tower, I tried to take several deep breaths and leave behind my anger, but it was useless. I was aware that this was the second argument I’d had with Sebastian in the space of a week.

It was a struggle to get to sleep that night. I stayed awake for at least three hours, tossing and turning, replaying the conversation in my head and overthinking about what this meant for mine and Sebastian’s relationship. I would then tell myself off for being insecure and to grow up.

Then, when I did finally manage to fall asleep, I had another nightmare. This one wasn’t as vivid or as corporeal as the others I’d had, the ones with Professor Spindle in them, but it still felt frighteningly real.

Sebastian was in it. I couldn’t quite make out where we were, in the dream, because it was dark and grey. I do remember the look in his eyes, though. They had a steady, glowing green colour, with his face twisted into something ugly. Something bordering cruelty.

I’d glimpsed it only once before, after he’d casted the Imperious curse on a goblin to save Anne.

It sent shivers down my spine to even remember it.

But in the dream, he had a dark look on his face. I remember feeling scared – no, more than scared. It was a mortal dread. The cold, icy sort that makes your fingers numb and twists your insides. The sort that was designed to keep humans a heart-beat from death.

“Sebastian!” I tried to call out, but my voice died on the wind. “Don’t!”

“I won’t lose you again!” he shouted, and bolt of green lightening shot from his wand. “Avada Kedavara!”

Before I could see who the spell was aimed at, I woke up with a start and banged my head on the bunk above mine. “Ow!” I cursed.

“Right, that’s it!” Samantha Dale exclaimed. I heard her jump down from the bunk above me and pull one of the privacy curtains aside. “Are you alright?” she asked unsympathetically.

“Yes,” I croaked “Why?”

“You’ve been tossing and turning all night. First you were mumbling about Sebastian, then you just started shouting in your sleep!” Samantha looked as tired as I felt. She had most likely spent the night revising.

Samantha eyed me up and down curiously “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes,” I repeated, wiping the back of my hand across my forehead. “Why?”

“You’re – um – hair…” Samantha said uncertainly.

“What about it?” I asked, feeling my head.

“It’s – er, white. Again.”

“White?!” I exclaimed and jumped out of bed. In the looking glass above our chest of drawers, I saw that my hair had turned white once more. Last year it had turned white, as a product of casting a powerful patronus spell.

I wore it white for a while, but got Madam Snelling to dye it back to its original auburn colour when I got fed up of people pointing and whispering about it.

I was also drenched with sweat. “What time is it?”

“Just gone 8am,” Samantha said “You look pale.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t ask you, then.” I replied tartly.

Samantha rolled her eyes. She went back to her bunk, while I threw on my dressing gown and began to rummage around in my chest of drawers. Madam Snelling sold me some phials which could return my hair to it’s natural colour, should anything happen.

But it was no use – I had none left. And it was Saturday. Madam Snelling opened late on weekends.

Wait.

It was Saturday.

I HAD A DATE WITH SEBASTIAN TODAY!

Would it still even be on? We did have an argument last night. Would he want to see me? I should send him an owl.

I was halfway down the Ravenclaw tower before I remembered I was still in my dressing gown and turned back to get changed.

Not wanting anyone else to see my white hair, I shoved tucked it up into a flat cap.

“You look like you’re going out to ask people if they want their chimneys cleaning,” Samantha snorted, looking up from over the edge of her Divination textbook.

I stuck my tongue out at her and went continued on my way. As I walked to the Owlery, I tried to think about what to do about my hair.

My options were pretty limited. I could stick with the flat cap. I could find Poppy or Anne and plead for their help – though I’m not sure exactly how they could help. Poppy was great at hair and make-up, but not at dying it or anything. And I wouldn’t let Anne near me so much as a pair of tweezers.

Now, Garreth could whip up a potion (maybe), but I would probably risk my hair falling out or my head turning into a pumpkin or turning bile yellow.

I hadn’t reached a conclusion by the time I reached the Owlery. As I began to climb the wooden steps in the tower, a loud THUD sound interrupted my train of thought. It sounded like someone was being strangled up ahead of me.

Instinctively, I grabbed my wand and ran the rest of the way. I reached the landing, looking for signs of danger.

“Clara?” I gasped.

In the middle of the floor, Clara was writhing on the floor. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her skull, so you could only see the whites; her mouth was agape, and making an awful strangling sound.

“Clara!” I shouted again, and skidded down onto my knees next to her. I placed my hands on either side of her head and turned her as gently as I could manage onto her side. The strangling sound disappeared, but it was another three minutes (I counted) until she came around.

“Huh?” Clara panted. She tried to roll over and look at me.

“Ssh, don’t move,” I said, stroking her hair “Not so quickly anyway. Give yourself a minute.”

Clara murmured something I couldn’t hear, and then tried to sit up again. I helped her. She looked paler than normal. Her eyes were red and sore, as if she’d been crying. She looked exhausted. Like she could fall asleep right here in the middle of the Owlery.

“Wa…War…”

“War?” I raised an eyebrow.

“War-ter…” I could tell it was a great effort for her to get those words out of her throat.

“Water?” I looked down at my satchel I had with me. I prayed I had some kind of flask in there. As I dug around in my bag, Clara sat up and crossed her legs. She took long, deep breathes, and didn’t speak until she’d finished off the flask I found in my bag.

“It might be a little stale,” I said “Sorry.”

Clara didn’t seem to care. She came up for breath when she was half way done, then downed the rest of it.

“Are you feeling better now?”

Clara nodded, but didn’t look at me.

“Are you alright?”

Clara nodded again, remaining wordless.

“I think we should take you to the infirmary.”

“No!” Clara whipped her head around to me, her big blue eyes pleading. “Please don’t! I’m all right, I promise you! I just always need a nap and some water after one of my turns.”

“Turns?” I repeated.

Clara looked down at the floorboards, ashamed. Her cheeks were flushed pink. “It’s what my Mum calls them – my turns.”

“Looked more like a fit to me,” I muttered, but then bit my lip when I saw that Clara had heard me.

“They are fits,” she smiled “Well, a sort of fit anyway.”

“You have seizures? That’s awful.”

“Well – yes and no…” Clara paused, as if she was turning something over in her mind “Can you keep a secret?”

“I can,” I said, trying to shove a feeling of dread down inside me.

Clara gulped, and looked around the Owlery, as if she didn’t trust the Owls not to gossip amongst themselves after we left. “I’m a Seer.” She confessed.

“A seer?” I raised my eyebrows “That’s impressive! Are you taking Divination?”

Clara swallowed again. “No. My mum won’t let me.”

“What? Why?” I asked “Professor Onai is an amazing teacher. You could learn a lot from her.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could,” Clara said, combing her hair through her fingers “But my mum won’t allow me to do anything that…encourages the fits.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” I scrunched up my nose “What does your being a Seer have anything to do with the fits?”

“The fits are…side effects,” Clara explained “When I usually have a fit like that, it means I’m seeing a very powerful and vivid prophecy.”

I was speechless. “I don’t know what to say…that’s awful, but also – ”

“Wonderful?” Clara smiled “I know. I have the world’s worst gift. I could have been good at Quidditch, or potions, or the violin, but noooooo, I had to receive prophecies.” She says sarcastically.

She bites her lip and looks at me worriedly, as if she’s said something wrong.

I laugh. “I know how you feel. I mean, you know enough about me know to now I can see traces of Ancient Magic and use it to enhance my own.”

“At least yours is useful.”

“And Ominis can talk to snakes.”

Clara’s mouth dropped open. “He’s a parslemouth? That’s amazing! I’ve always wanted to take lessons…does he teach?”

I think back to last year, when I was having detention in this very Owlery. Ominis had tried to teach us a little bit of parseltongue, but it had turned into us just hissing at each other.

“I don’t think it can be taught,” I said.

“Darn.” Clara said “Well, I should get back to the common room. I need a nap to recover properly from this.”

“Here,” I stood and helped her up off the floor “Lean against me. I can take you most of the way.”

Clara tried to resist, but the minute she took a step she nearly fell over. She then put her arm around my shoulder.

As we walked across the grounds towards the castle, Clara spoke again. “Please don’t tell anyone I’m a Seer,” she said “My mum thinks it’s something to be embarrassed of, it’s why she won’t let me take divination.”

“Your secrets safe with me. I promise.” I then worked up the courage to ask the question that had been spinning around in my head for a while. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Only if I can ask you one.”

I took that as a go ahead. “What was your vision about?”

Clara stopped in her tracks. From where we stood by the lake, we had the perfect view of the castle. “I had a vision about the Astronomy tower,” she said slowly, looking at it “The details are a little fuzzy right now, but…someone dies there.”

I swallowed. “Who?”

“No one we know,” Clara answers. “I think it’s someone from far into the future. A – a professor, I think…”

“Oh.” We continue walking in silence for a minute. “So what’s your question for me?”

Clara snorts with laughter and turns to me. “What is with that ridiculous hat?”

We stop walking again, and I take the cap off. My white hair tumbles down. “I’ll explain along the way,” I say “It’s a very long story.”