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Chapter Text

She had never thought this day would come, practically buried it in the back of her mind really. Magic— the fanciful workings of it which she only chalked up to her young mind imagining her Nana using it to assist in everyday mundane chores, a time when she wistfully thought that she'd be able to attend a magical school once she reached her 11th year.

Instead, she was carted off to a convent that same year her Nana's poor heart gave out, that same year when she realized that no form of mail or owl would delivery her salvation from slipping through the muggle world. From then on, she closed her mind off to any topics pertaining to the occult and decided to focus on contributing to a more personal cause.

No one would really have suspected that behind the veil and habits of her Mothers and Sisters, lay a revolution just simmering in the surface. The clash of swords still rang clear in her mind, making her miss the duel practices she had with her peers, but she had nowhere to go back to now, not after—

“Ah! It appears we are almost ready to depart.”

Professor Fig's exclamation broke her out of her thoughts, promptly focusing on him as he came round the back of their carriage. Best not be caught staring woefully out the dreary streets of London. Wherever this newly opened path lead her now, she was prepared to face it head on. With that thought in mind, she smiled.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1.5

Mr. Osric's screams before the dragon's final chomp still rang through her mind as she and Professor Fig jumped midair, the heat from its fiery breath almost racing towards them as they continued to descend.

“Give me your hand!” She had heard Fig shout somewhere in the distance as he reached her, and the moment she heard him shout “Accio!” everything started to spin. Terribly so. Enough that the single desperate scream turned to many filled with panic, and the tickle of flames seemed to be closing in on her.

She was all but prepared to hurl until she felt solid ground beneath her palms, a pained cry escaping her lips as she staggeringly took in breaths to fight off the nausea and vertigo plaguing her all at once.

“You're hurt.” She heard Fig say.

Faintly aware of hearing blood pumping in her ears, she acquiesced, “Perhaps a bit.”

“Take this. It's Wiggenweld Potion. That stuff'll right you in a second.” Spying him uncorking a bottle of bright green liquid despite her blurry vision, she weakly reached up to take it, taking a second to right her drowning senses before she gingerly drank the bottle in one go.

“What happened?” She asked the moment she could trust her vision to settle as she sat on the cold stone floor.

“Poor George— I can't believe he—” She watched as Fig started pacing, “What the hell got into that damned thing? Attacking a carriage, mid-air? A typical dragon would never—” His laboured breathing caused her to interrupt his train of thought.

“Professor?” A beat, as she started to feel her strength return to her again, “Sir— where are we?”

“I'm not sure. But the key you discovered was clearly a Portkey.”

“Portkey?” She continued to inquire.

“An item enchanted to bring whoever touches it to a specific place.”

Of course she still remembered the topics Professor Fig taught her over the summer. In those two months, she also observed that outside of stepping in as her guardian, Eleazar Fig was still a grieving man who lost his wife not even a year had passed, and now he had also lost a dear friend. Still, she needed him to focus, she needed her mentor at the moment.

On steadying legs, she started to stand up, “I’m feeling better, sir—if you’d like to look around a bit.”

“I would. But stay close. We’ve no idea who created this Portkey—or why.”

She was relieved to see that curiosity had now slowly won over Professor Fig’s previously worn features, but her momentary triumph did not last long as they neared the only exit-way they could find of the cavern they were in. She heard the cry of seabirds first, before the crashing of waves on the rocks below—

“How far did that Portkey take us?” Her question carrying over the wind in uncertainty, much like the start of her journey in this magical world.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

“I’ll be in touch.”

Those were Professor Fig’s parting words to her as she was left to follow behind Hogwarts’ Headmaster into the Great Hall.

The cheery hum of chatter that soon turned to whispers of curiosity would have bothered her on a normal occasion had she not been taken by the utter magic that was the Hall’s ceiling— “bewitched to look like the sky outside.” she remembered reading about it before the start of term.

She continued to let her eyes linger on the many candles that dotted the seemingly endless ceiling, that made them look like stars, before she focused her train of vision beyond Headmaster Black and spotted the semi-circular table that seated whom she’d presume would be her professors during her next years in Hogwarts, quickly noticing Professor Fig was not among them.

“Professor Weasley! We’ve one more to be sorted.” She’d heard Black exclaim just as he stepped aside to make her focus on the seemingly innocent wooden stool that was placed in the middle of the raised platform.

It occurred to her how surreal this all was as she had all but given up on the possibility of ever getting to attend Hogwarts, let alone be sorted into one of its four houses.

“Welcome, Beatrice Hayes. You’re just in time. Have a seat.”

Now glancing up at the red-headed woman who smiled kindly at her, she gingerly took a seat upon the wooden stool, tucking her legs in for good measure before she felt the unmistakable weight of having the Sorting Hat placed upon her head.

“Ah yes— a bit older than the others, aren’t you?” She heard the Hat muse, briefly wondering if the whole of the Hall heard its musings as well.

“You come here with preferences and preconceptions— certain expectations.”

She’d felt a brief prodding in her mind then-- a question asked that needed to be answered: The thirst for knowledge, or the exhilarating exploration of this new, magical world and beyond.

Initially, she’d have no problem picking the latter choice, but with her near brush with Death this morning and the mysterious aspects that surrounded her magical capabilities, she knew what the safest answer would be.

“I’m looking forward to meeting my professors and learning all I can at Hogwarts.”

“Indeed.” The Sorting Hat had drawled, as if waiting for her to say more, “Hogwarts has much to offer a dedicated student. And—” the Hat paused, as if assessing its next words, “—what you learn in class will prepare you for challenges outside the classroom as well.”

She smiled inwardly at that, considering the irony of the Hat’s words.

“Hmm… You’re clever, indeed. You have the ability to reflect clearly on that which puzzles others. And you’ve a ready mind. Quick to learn.”

Oh, now she knew which House she would be sorted in. She felt herself relax as her eyes drifted to the calming blue hues that made up the Ravenclaw table.

“And plenty of courage too, I see.” The Hat’s following words made her tense, “A willingness to forge ahead alone when you must...” She inwardly cursed herself for letting down her mind’s guard.

“I also detect a well-hidden sense of ambition… An eagerness to prove yourself.” The Hat continued as her eyes unconsciously focused on the next table mostly made up of green.

She first spotted a blond head that seemed to reflect golden under the candlelit ceiling, combined with his blue eyes, he fit the picture of looking absolutely angelic. She’d felt her mouth dry at that thought, until she also felt an unmistakably intense stare focused on her. That was when she took notice of the boy sat at the end of the Slytherin table, closest near the platform where she was at.

There was nothing near angelic about him really, add to it his unruly mop of brunette hair. But there was definitely something about the way he smiled that charmed her, almost drawing her in…

“Right?” The Hat’s smugly pleased tone instantly broke her out of her reverie. ‘No!’ She’d all but screamed in her mind as she slammed all of her inner thoughts shut.

“…No?” This obviously confused the Sorting Hat, but she had already decisively stared back at the Ravenclaw table.

“Well if you’re sure… Better be RAVENCLAW!”

She now kept her mental fortitudes up despite smiling at the Sorting Hat’s final verdict. The last thing she’d want on top of her already unusual predicament of being a new fifth year was to be caught in a “mere friendly rivalry of houses”— as Professor Fig had succinctly described during the earlier days of mentoring her about Hogwarts and its Four Houses.

Then it would be in her best interests not to get involved with Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin’s chosen students lest she be caught in any tension known to form between the two Houses— better now she rather be labelled as a recluse eccentric sorted under Rowena Ravenclaw’s House of scholars. She just had to play her cards right.

Welcomed by a round of applause, as Professor Weasley magically transfigured her robes to her appropriate House colors, she then made way towards her House’s table, spotting a dark-haired girl waving her over to come sit with them.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Samantha. Welcome to Ravenclaw!” The dark-haired girl introduced as she sat beside her. 

“It’s nice to meet you Samantha, I’m Beatrice—” Her introduction was then cut short as the tinkling of glass was heard from where the professors sat, just as Headmaster Black made a show to signal the Start-of-Term Feast to begin. It was only then did Beatrice notice that Professor Fig had now taken his place amongst his colleagues, raising a glass her way in greeting, an amused smile on his face.

She smiled in return, remembering a passing discussion they had before on which House she was most likely to be sorted in…

“I daresay, you’d be a perfect fit in the House of Lions, you know.”

“As much as the Lion symbolizes bravery professor, I think there is still merit in being sorted into a House that puts value in wit and learning.”

“Can’t say I put any less value in those sorts despite having come from Gryffindor, myself. I did still end up being a professor, and am now charged with being your mentor, after all.”

Beatrice was pulled out of her reverie as she heard a boy beside Samantha speak, “Must be tough having one of the professors as your guardian. Can’t imagine how to get away easy from any sort of trouble if that was me.”

“Pffft! As if you’re one to get yourself into trouble, Duncan. I’d find starting school this late a lot tougher instead. I’m Andrew Larson by the way.” The guy sitting across from them introduced with a wink.

She'd hope her smile didn't come off as awkward, thankful that a platter of what looked like roast beef chose that moment to be handed to her, “Don’t mind Larson. Here, you should definitely try this, goes well with the mashpoes. Name's Constance.” The blonde-haired girl beside her introduced.

Cutting off meager amounts on her plate, she’d found herself more thirsty rather than hungry from the day’s happenings, making her reach for the water-filled goblet in front of her just as she heard Constance slowly speak, “So~ we’ve been hearing all sorts of rumors…”

Beatrice watched in fascination as the liquid she'd just finished started refilling itself with what smelled like berries, enticing her to quench her thirst more, her eyes focused on Constance over the rim to continue, “Were you nearly gobbled up by a dragon?”

“Constance, really?? A man from the Ministry was said to have literally been eaten during the incident.” Samantha tutted her roommate's tactlessness as she kindly offered Beatrice the platter of mashed potatoes.

“Merely trying to break the ice Samantha. You know how some of us tend to be a bit on edge even on their first night in school.” Constance emphasized a word as she rolled her eyes towards a boy beside Andrew, who looked quite focused on what he was reading and even seemed to be muttering dates and constellations.

Andrew softly elbowed said boy on his side, flustering him out of his musings as he now focused on the group’s newcomer, “Ah right! Pleasure to have you in Ravenclaw, I'm Amit. Never met someone who's been so close to a dragon before.”

Mildly surprised with how Amit had still somehow been listening in on the group's conversation, Beatrice swallowed the last drops of her drink before she remarked, “Can't say I recommend it, frankly. And it's true...” She focused on Constance then as she continued, “...the man from the Ministry was a friend of Professor Fig. Not exactly the typical start to a new school.” Not wanting to remember the dreadful scream that could start ringing in her head at any moment, Beatrice unconsciously licked her lips for any remnants of the sweet juice she had, suddenly needing a form of distraction.

Constance immediately looked apologetic, about to open her mouth when a light voice interrupted from beside her, “Well, we're glad you made it here alive, that's for sure.” A bespectacled boy peeked over Constance's shoulder as he spoke good-naturedly.

“Everett!” Constance harshly whispered at him, only making him shrug, “What? She seems downright calm despite the fact.” And outwardly she did, though inside she was already doing away with the events from earlier, securing them at the back of her mind to keep any more memories from plaguing her future dreams.

With introductions having been made and conversations now lulling to a pleasant murmur, Beatrice couldn't help but to just take the moment in and ponder on the fact that this place would technically be her home for the next months to come. Constance was right about the delectable roast beef combined with mashed potatoes, but what Beatrice truly favored were the sweets, particularly the strawberry shortcake she'd plucked from a nearby tray.

She savored her last bite as she surreptitiously looked around the Hall, trying to put faces into Houses, and noting some resident ghosts who lingered along the different House Tables, “I do hope we stand a chance to win the House Cup this year. Slytherins have got that cup in rows now, it's absolutely unbearable!” One ghost by the Gryffindor table casted a glance upon a miserable-looking entity covered in chains by the Table in subject.

He must have been the infamous Bloody Baron, judging from the way he'd still look mournfully at Lady Grey who silently lingered past the Ravenclaw first-years, only slowing to a stop in front of Beatrice a few seconds longer than she deemed comfortable before the Lady floated off. “If the Lion cubs don't even stand a chance, how'd you think we'll fair?” Someone from their Table asked none in particular as Beatrice continued to watch after the drifting ghost's form.

It was when she felt an unmistakable intensity again, did her eyes land on someone who was equally staring back at her. It was the same boy who was smiling at her as she was getting sorted, he smiled at her again now seeing as their gazes met. Not breaking eye contact, she smiled back politely as she leaned closer towards her side, “Samantha, would you happen to know who that boy is?”

“Oh? That's Sebastian Sallow, he's also a 5^th year.” Samantha had answered matter-of-factly as she followed Beatrice's gaze across the Hall, it was then Constance started whispering excitedly from Beatrice's other side, scooting closer as she said, “You actually got him to look at you!”

Beatrice lowered her gaze to focus on what Constance had to say next about this Sebastian Sallow, “He's always got his nose buried in some other book most times, if not getting in detention on others.” That made Beatrice's brows raise in interest, gazing back up only to see that this Sebastian fellow had already looked away, talking to the girl beside him with an almost flustered look on his face.

“We all know he only became like that after what happened to Anne.” Samantha solemnly supplied.

“Poor Anne, never even got to come back to Hogwarts after the holidays during our 4^th year.” Constance now sadly said.

Before Beatrice could even ponder on this, she noticed Andrew lean forward from across her, whispering conspiratorially, “If you plan on fancying anyone in our year, I'd advice to steer clear of Sallow and most especially his other friend, Ominis Gaunt. They seem to... have a bit of a 'dark cloud' looming over them, in a sense.”

She'd all but narrowed her eyes in response to his words when the Headmaster started calling all attention on him, turns out he wasn't just calling for the end of the feast tonight but also “cancelling this year's Quidditch season” much to the disappointed outcries from majority of the school's populace.

“I'm sure you all have plenty to do before classes begin tomorrow.” And so were the final words from the Headmaster that night as the Prefects started rounding up the first years from each house to follow them.

“Can't believe Black went off and cancelled Quidditch altogether. I was even hoping to join the tryouts this year!” Everett hushly fretted as their group remained seated at the table.

“As if Astoria would even want you on her team, Clopton. You've yet to even get away from Kogawa's clutches.” Andrew teased.

Beatrice watched the first years filing out, wondering how she'd have looked like had she been able to start at this magical school just like them, though she'd bet to have the same look of wonder a lot of them were sporting. “Don't worry, we'll give you a tour as we head to Ravenclaw Tower.” She turned towards Samantha who probably caught her staring out the thinning crowd.

Constance stood up then and said, “We're just waiting for the fledglings to get ahead since they have a tendency to gawk and stare at every tiny bit of 'magic' they'd see on their first night—” she stopped, as if having been caught about to say something as she stared back at Beatrice, “Not that you would, I mean.” Coughing awkwardly as she called for them to get going.

Beatrice only smiled good-naturedly at her housemates' antics.

“We'd usually go for the Floo Flames when in a bit of a rush, you'd have to use it one at a time though.” Andrew started with the tour as they headed out of the Great Hall. 

“AND you'd have to speak very, very clearly on where you plan to go. Not if you want to find yourself in the deepest bowels of Hogwarts, of course.” Everett added, raising his hands to his face to reference a form of mandibles.

“Or worst! The Forbidden Forest!” She heard Duncan nervously say.

“I thought there were restricted sections in Hogwarts?” She asked.

“Well, you can't exactly Floo yourself in just about any restricted section, you've got to at least have been to the other side of the place you plan to 'Floo over'.” Constance explained.

“And... the Floo knows if you've already been? To an other place, I mean?” Beatrice asked, curiosity now peaked.

“Ignatia Wildsmith knows.” Her fellow Ravenclaws answered altogether without missing a beat.

“How nice to see you, my young friends.” Came a cheery voice down the corner from whom Beatrice could only assume to be the famed Floo inventor.

“So here we are, the Grand Staircase. One can consider this the most direct path to all dormitories.” Samantha now led as they went for the stairs, which Beatrice noticed just about magically appeared as one would step forward, making her hurry after her housemates.

“Easy now, these stairs are completely safe. There's never been an incident of anyone falling here.” Amit cheerily said. And if that was how usual people in the wizarding world took their days in stride, then Beatrice just had to learn to blend in, fast.

After climbing a couple more of the circular staircase, they'd made it to a dimly lit hall with pillars appearing to have rune symbols on them, “This is the corridor leading to the Ravenclaw Tower.” Constance quietly supplied, falling in step with her and Samantha as they let the boys handle the Knocker's riddle on their first day.

A shorter winding set of stairs later, they encountered the boys caught in a dilemma. “I'm not looking forward to being the Ravenclaw who slept out their dorm's corridors just because they couldn't solve the Knocker's riddle!” Amit exclaimed, almost panicked.

“Honestly Everett, what were you even thinking when you answered PEEVES out of all things???” Andrew asked in annoyed disbelief.

“I mean, with all the troublemaking he's been up to over the millennia here at Hogwarts, you'd think he was living his best life!” Everett let out a laugh, none too perturbed at the situation he'd caused, making Duncan look all the more miserable standing in a corner.

“Down sides to not having the simple passwords like the other Houses...” Constance grumbled with Samantha trying to calm everyone down as Beatrice came closer to the Knocker, willing it to ask its riddle again.

“Who lived longer, the ghost or the poltergeist?”

Ah, so there seemed to be the confusion. Because despite having read about a poltergeist having had come with the school's founding, and with how the ghosts at the feast seemed to entertain themselves with living vicariously through the students...

“A non-being can never have been.”

To Beatrice's pleasant surprise, the Knocker had heard her murmured answer, making it furl its wings on itself as the door unlocked, earning the delighted gasps and hoots of joy from her companions, “Not bad on your first night!” Constance grinned, looping arms with her. “Come on, let's find our rooms!” Samantha dragged her by her other arm as they climbed what she hoped were their last set of stairs to the Common Room.

All thoughts of the Knocker becoming mind-numbing over time was completely lost to Beatrice once she was mind blown with the celestial elegance that welcomed her. A life-sized statue of Rowena Ravenclaw greeted them into a carpeted space that gleamed like a star system of its own, from the chandelier that gently glowed amidst the calming blue tapestries that hang from the open ceiling, giving a glimpse of an unexplored floor above.

She'd just about spotted more seating areas beyond, round a fireplace, when the girls ushered her to another set of wooden stairs that led down, quickly taking note of the knight armors on both sides of the stairwell. “Keeps the boys out.” Constance seemed to have read her mind's question, spotting her glace at the opposite set of stairs which she presumed held the boys' rooms.

“So, what keeps the girls out then?” Beatrice asked as she followed after them. “Our vow of virtue?” Constance couldn't help snort at Samantha's reply. “Aha! First floor down, not bad and it looks like we're your roommates too, Beatrice!” Samantha exclaimed from inside the room, followed by Constance as she passed by the metal plaque that held their names by the door entryway.

“Hermes!” breathed Beatrice in relief as she spotted the barn owl beside her supposed bed, softly hooting back at her in greeting. “Thank goodness you made it here safely.” She gently stretched each of his wings, inspecting for any burned feathers or injuries.

“The house-elves must have let him in and also left you some basic necessities.” She heard Constance note, making her finally look at the sleepwear and toiletries on the bed, as well as the spare uniforms that hang from the unoccupied top bunk in pristine condition.

Doubting that all of this was left for her, Beatrice couldn't help but ask, “Is it... really just the three of us here?” There were four beds after all, but only three names listed by their door's plaque.

Constance sat up from the top bunk she'd already laid on, exchanging a glance with Samantha who had stopped from rummaging her trunks, “Well... Yasmeen was supposed to be here but...” Constance hesitated.

“But not all wizarding families are comfortable with the threat of a Goblin rebellion. Moreso that the areas around Hogwarts aren't usually as safe anymore, even at Hogsmeade.” Samantha quietly said.

Remembering what she and Professor Fig encountered on the way here, Beatrice didn't question the threat of a Goblin rebellion, but more if the unsafe happenings around the area were related somehow.

It was Constance who broke the ice then, “We should prepare for bed, before the first years take too much time in the baths.”  

September 1, 1890

Ancient Magic... To see what others cannot...  A goblin seemingly unaffected by ordinary magic alone... To deem this all unrelated would spell ignorance yet— if I try to fight against fate, will the future of the wizarding world still end up resting on my shoulders? Be it mine to bare alone? I'm hoping against hope that this sense of Hero Complex may be left untapped.

I still have much to learn at Hogwarts, and not much time to do it.

Beatrice finished writing her thoughts from the day's events, letting the ink seep in as she stared out her bedside window, slightly ajar to let the last remnants of cool summer air in. She absently stroked through Hermes smooth feathers as he sat by her, with her bed curtains drawn and the soft snores of sleep coming from her roommates, it surely felt like she was enclosed in a safe, tiny space-- no danger of dragons or goblins with glowing red eyes. If only dreams would keep her from remembering and sleep would come easy.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2.5

“Professor Weasley! We’ve one more to be sorted.”

Normally, Sebastian Sallow wouldn't give a toss during the first years' Sorting Ceremony, most especially this year when his sister wasn't there to give her random predictions of which doe-eyed kid went where, it had kept them both entertained and he couldn't help the familiar pang of guilt of not having her here.

The only thing that caught his attention now though was the chagrined tone by which Black announced a late arrivée. Curious as to which first year would get the flak on their first day, he was surprised instead to see a girl who looked about his age, and it seemed he wasn't the only one to take notice as the whole Hall quieted down to intrigued murmurs.

There was a grace to her, he quietly observed, steps that were silent and sure, only slowing as she gazed up the enchanted Great Hall ceiling. He'd expected the look of wonder yes, but hers almost looked solemn-- jaded in a way. This only added to his curious observation of her, as he was sure majority of the Hall's populace was doing, watching as she sat to be Sorted.

'Beatrice' was the name he caught from Professor Weasley as she was welcomed. Sebastian mulled over the name of this newcomer, finding amusement in seeing the old Sorting Hat flap its rims in consideration, half remembering how Anne would imitate its voice to make up her own dialogues.

Contrary to what others may think, whatever conversation you shared with the Hat was solely between the two of you before it let the whole Hall know of your designated House. What transfixed Sebastian now however was the wearer's facial expressions, particularly the soft smile that graced her features, it suited her more than the jaded one— an aspect he could tell from learning to be guarded while trying to maintain a charming personality despite the previous year’s incident involving his sister.

Whatever the Hat said to her next though, caused her smile to instantly disappear as she looked unsurely towards their table, 'Another Slytherin, perhaps?' He smiled at that, thinking that it never hurt to find a friendly face in a crowd. The one thing Sebastian didn't take into consideration though was that Beatrice's decision was already made, and he could only watch from afar as she took a seat among her fellow Ravenclaws.

He hadn't meant to stare really, it just so happens his eyes would gravitate towards her during the Feast, noting how she'd lick her lips during a certain conversation-- which he was sure also got the attention of the other boys closest to where she sat— Or how he'd spy her silently taking in her surroundings, her wandering eyes passing by faces and ghosts alike, until they met his from across the tables. He couldn't help but smile at finally having her attention on him, seeing as she returned it with a polite smile of her own. A little too polite if you'd asked him.

“One would think you were the dragon who tried to gobble her up, with the way you've been staring at her, Sallow.”

Sebastian inwardly groaned at having to remember how Reyes and McDowell tag-teamed on teasing him about the new fifth-year, right until they left the Great Hall.

“Sebastian, I know I've been your only roommate since nobody wants to bunk with us, but please have the decency to use a silencing charm. I’m blind not deaf.” Ominis whispered harshly from across the room where he lay in bed.

“I’m not— What??? I’ve never—”

Sebastian sputtered out of his bedcovers, glaring at Ominis despite their room’s dim lighting.

“You were thinking about that new fifth-year, weren’t you?” Now it was Ominis’ turn to sit up on his bed, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed, as he asked in an almost frustrated tone.

“Not in that way—!” These were the sort of times Sebastian was glad for Ominis’ lack of sight, lest his burning face be added to the list of teases he had to endure for the night.

“I found it annoying how Imelda and Violet wouldn’t stop pestering you over dinner, and don't get me started with the whispers-- it was a cacophony in there!”

“I wasn't expecting you to listen in...” Sebastian quieted down, realizing what Ominis just said.

“It was my curiosity that got the best of me, really. I garnered she was pretty...” Ominis said in a huff as he tried getting comfortable under his covers again. Rustling was heard then silence, before a beat later, “Well, was she?” Ominis probed.

It was Sebastian's turn to lay back under his covers in a huff, staring up at the wood paneling that made up their four-poster beds, “I— didn't really get a closer look at her but—” He hesitated, grasping for words.

“The least bit you can do is amuse me, Sebastian.” Ominis deadpanned.

“Alright, what do you even expect me to say?? She's pretty enough for me at least!” Sebastian groaned out in embarrassment. “And it's not as if you don't have any sort of means to actually see her, you know...”

“I choose not to, Sebastian. You know how people tend to warp their mind's vision of someone they find the least bit attractive. I'd need to read someone with no biases.” Sebastian knew Ominis usually used Legilimency whenever he was frustratingly curious about something, though Anne had proven reliable in filling the gaps before...

He pulled the covers over his head in a bid to ward off the guilt. Here he was, entertaining the thought of fancying a new student when he should be looking for a cure for his sister. How he terribly missed Anne.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

“ Oh? You cut your hair?”

“It was burned at the ends… sir.”

“Well, it still suits you.” A warm smile from this strange man, claiming to now be her guardian after— “Now, are you ready to learn more about magic?”

“Astonishing! I’ve never heard of someone so young take to Occlumency as quickly as you have! And with the speed you’ve been absorbing our lessons, you’ll be able to catch up with the rest of your peers in no time.”

“Here, take this.”

“What is it, professor?”

“Since you’ve mentioned encountering… resistance when trying Legilimency, I thought this might help.”

A journal?

“It’s already a rare occurrence to efficiently wield both Occlumency and Legilimency, but I theorize that the only thing keeping you from honing the latter is your innate ability to compartmentalize your emotions.”

Silence.

“What I’m trying to say is, write something about your day, a form of self-reflection. Perhaps, before you’re able to read others, you might have to read into yourself first.”

“I worry though Professor… If I read too much into myself… I might end up losing to the very emotions I’ve… innately compartmentalized.”

Beatrice woke up from the rays of sun reflecting off her window. It was quiet, she noticed as she pulled back her bed curtains and slowly got off bed.

Looks like everyone’s gone, noting how her roommates were no longer in their beds, she decided to prepare herself for the day before spotting a note tucked in-between the closet she had moved her uniforms.

Hope you don’t mind we let you sleep in. I’ll stop by to wake you up in case you read this late! -S

P.S. I let Hermes out since he was getting antsy when I woke up. -C

Grateful for their consideration, Beatrice started her day with a smile.

Heading to the Common room proved to be quite the sight for Beatrice— It was one thing to have seen it at night, but now it exuded sheer elegance under the light of day. She was just about to head into the main sitting area when she had spotted Everett.

“Hope you’re not too nervous on your first day. Most of the professors here are firm but fair.” He’d laughed good-naturedly after having just thrown a Dungbomb down the opposite lobby. Beatrice would take his word for it but didn’t stick around long to take in the pungent fumes.

She was then greeted by hushed whispers upon entering the main sitting area, “I wonder where she’s from?” Came a mere curious question from one corner.

“Must be… hard— starting school as a fifth-year.” A snicker, as if her being sorted into Ravenclaw would end up being a disadvantage to her fellow Housemates.

It was times like these that Beatrice was thankful that she’d yet to grasp Legilimency, lest she be hearing more “thoughts” other than ones spoken voluntarily.

Spotting the reflective light bouncing off a telescope, she came closer to greet Amit, seeing him proved to be more insightful as he happily shared the view from his lens, “Astronomy is required for all fifth-years, you’ll surely be enthralled with the tower. Plus, with a quality telescope, you’ll get to see constellations you’ve never even dreamed of!”

Satisfied with having exchanged pleasantries with some of her housemates, Beatrice was all too relieved to spot Samantha as she fretted over a pot of Dittany, “Great golden gobstones! I sure hope you’ll be able to thrive here.”

“Golden gobstones sure sound great!” Beatrice greeted as she came closer.

“My own little expression.” Samantha smiled upon seeing her, “I was just about to check on you after this. Oh! Here, I brought this up for you.” She said, handing Beatrice a paper bag. “Can’t start classes on an empty stomach for your first day.”

“I— can’t thank you enough, Samantha. You’ve been very nice to me.” Beatrice smiled, delighted even more to pull out a blueberry muffin from inside the bag.

“Don’t mention it. I’ve only ever grown up with brothers and well… Constance just teases me whenever I “mother” her, so she says. I— hope I don’t come off as a busybody…” Samantha trailed off, shyly focusing on her Dittany pot now.

“I think it’s rather sweet of you.” The same aftertaste from Beatrice’s first bite of the muffin, matching her next words, “Like how much healing can be found in a small pot of Dittany, a little act of kindness can go a long way. You shouldn’t feel burdened for being kind, Samantha.”

She was met with a dazed, almost surprised look, before Samantha smiled graciously, “Seems like someone’s been studying up on their potion-making.” Her tone warm and teasing now.

“Professor Fig did actually teach me about Wiggenweld before term.” Beatrice replied halfway through with her muffin.

“Ah your mentor turned guardian, I heard…” Samantha thoughtfully said, now having finally decided on a place for her potted plant. “An enigma, that Fig, teaches theory yet seems to know a lot about practical Magic.”

Almost choking on her last bite, Beatrice reached for the pitcher of water nearby before she could reply, “He does know a great deal about— different forms of Magic.” She coughed in-between her words, making Samantha worriedly pat at her back.

“Well, nothing like putting all you’ve learned to the test.” Seeing how Beatrice calmed down from her sudden coughing fit, she then asked, “Care to walk to our first class together?”

Before Beatrice could agree however, one of their male housemates called out none-too kindly, “Hey there, new Ravenclaw! Professor Weasley is looking for you just outside. You best not keep her waiting.”

It was Samantha who frowned on her behalf, grumbling about Mahendra Pehlwaan and his sneering attitude. Beatrice could only shrug it off to her rather unsavory arrival to last night’s Feast, but waved good-naturedly at Samantha, “I’ll see you in our first class then.”

“I’ll see you at Charms, don’t get lost!” She waved back, watching her go.

It was a nice feeling to make good friends.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3.1

As a professor, Matilda Weasley could say she’s come across many manners of students— as an aunt to not just one, but several young Weasleys however, she was proud to consider herself capable in de-escalating most troublesome behavior created not just by her dear nephew, but which extends also to the beloved students of Hogwarts.

No one could prepare her however of the extremely troubling news that befell her ears from last night’s Feast.

“Dra— dragon! Dragon!!”

A coachman she had recognized, came bursting right into the Great Hall just as students were taking their seats at their respective Tables.

“It— tore our carriage in half! A man from the Ministry with it!!”

She’d felt her heart plummet, just as whispers slowly began to spread around the Hall. Matilda knew of only one carriage that would have arrived today along with someone from the Ministry.

“Enough!” Surprisingly, it was Black who broke through the near rising murmurs, gesturing someone over to “care for” the evidently shaking coachman.

“Headmaster, we should—” Matilda was stopped midsentence as Black raised his hand in finality.

“We have a Sorting Ceremony to attend to.”

“But Professor Fig and the new student—”

“Will be fine! I will handle the Ministry after this.”

Leaving no room for further arguments, Matilda gestured for Mr. Moon to let the first years into the Great Hall, all the while hoping that no harm came upon Eleazar and his mentee.

In the end, Black didn’t have to contact the Ministry after all with the late, but thankfully safe, arrival of the new fifth year who now had the Hall’s full attention.

Matilda took notice that despite having a look of solemn wonder, the young girl was not shaking like a leaf as Matilda would have expected. If her assured steps were to be taken at face value, Beatrice Hayes did not look the least bit worse for wear, she had even made quick acquaintances from her House as Matilda quietly observed from the professors ' table.

“Professor Fig.” She had called his attention just as he finished raising a glass towards his young charge as a proud mentor would. “I was wondering about the reason for your delayed arrival. Was it truly just a case of searching for lost belongings?”

“Ah yes unfortunately so, Professor Weasley. I’ve already gotten hold of some much-needed assistance from the house elves, but it seems Ms. Hayes has completely lost most of her supplies needed for the school year.”

“That can be arranged with a quick trip to Hogsmeade as soon as tomorrow, but truly Eleazar, is that all there is to what happened after the dragon attack?”

“I’m afraid so.” Came the terse and final reply from Fig, leaving Matilda to probe no further.

Now having stopped by the Ravenclaw Tower to provide further guidelines on what Ms. Hayes was to expect on her first year at Hogwarts, Matilda easily spotted the smiling young girl. Compared to last night, her face now seemed bright and well-rested from a good night's sleep, Matilda thought then that perhaps Ms. Hayes would prove to have a more open perspective on the previous day’s events.

“Owls? Ah yes, Professor Fig did mention something about the Ordinary Wizarding Level exams, to help me determine what type of career would be best suited for me after Hogwarts, was it?” Beatrice remembered feeling overwhelmed at knowing that she'd have to begin with the end in mind— while her peers had 4 years to think about what they wanted for themselves, here she was with only a year to prove herself.

It was a good thing though that the Wizarding World was filled with so much wonder that she couldn't help but read every book Professor Fig had for her to catch up on her studies, and many others about history and culture— the Wizarding community seemed to be a lot more progressive, especially when it came to how women can own property and not be forced to marry. Though the latter aspect did still depend on one's Blood Status, a topic she frowned at yet was fascinated by at the same time as it defined one's identity in a way, she'd be ignorant to not wonder about her own heritage especially if she never knew her father. Beatrice only deduced she could be a half-blood at best, but realistically may just be a muggle-born. So how could she explain seeing traces of an Ancient Magic? Was it even an inherent ability?

“Now I see what Professor Fig was so pleased about writing in his updates from mentoring you.” Professor Weasley looked at her with a knowing smile, “It's one thing to be a fast learner, but even more so be able to retain the various topics you've been taught in just two months’ time. Either way, we've discussed with the Department of Magical Education to provide you with something extraordinary to ensure your success.”

A hardbound book suddenly appeared before Professor Weasley's outstretched hands which she then handed over. Before Beatrice could marvel at its surprising light weight however, the embossed Hogwarts logo quickly glowed with Ravenclaw's blue eagle emblem, shaking violently before it burst out of her hands, symbols and papers flying out and scattering about to who knows where before it quickly shut closed and dropped back into Beatrice's hands.

“What is it?” She asked after the initial shock had mostly worn off, now noticing that the hardbound book was decidedly thinner.

“It is a Wizard's Field Guide. To help you keep track of what you're learning and master all that's expected of a fifth-year. You would be wise to take full advantage of this exceptionally valuable resource.”

And wise she was, as Matilda noted how adept Ms. Hayes was at casting Revelio— it may not have been the hardest of spells, but it took the mind's focus to see what the eyes initially cannot. It was also amusing to see how eagerly she had read the one field guide page she'd just collected, thumbing through the rest that were still left in the guidebook. Though there was one thing that Matilda notice Beatrice hesitate to do, it was using the Floo network.

Had Ignatia Wildsmith not gently coaxed the young girl into revealing their next destination, she'd have stood there unmoving with a handful of Floo powder in her one hand, almost petrified at the thought of the harmless Floo flames engulfing her. Matilda knew then that perhaps the dragon attack left more of an impression on Ms. Hayes than she let on, prodding her for answers from yesterday would not be easy.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3.5

“You can get almost anywhere in the castle quickly from Central Hall.” Beatrice swiftly glanced back at the Floo network she'd come out from, before hurrying after Professor Weasley. Along with Portkeys, she had also come across the concept of Floo Flames as another form of “transportation” in the Wizarding World. The mere idea of “harmless” flames surrounding her, was still very much a foreign experience to grasp, she had to begrudge them for their offered convenience though.

“Always something happening here. It's the heart of the hive. Our 'King's Cross station', so to speak.” It had crossed her mind why they hadn't taken the train to Hogwarts instead, though as her eyes settled on the moving mural of a dragon overhead, Beatrice deemed it best not to think about it any further.

“That should be all for now. You'll be expected to attend both Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes today. And I'd like to be sure you get to Hogsmeade this afternoon to replace the supplies you lost on the way here.”

“Thank you, Professor Weasley. You mentioned Hogsmeade, this afternoon?”

“Yes, you'll find that the first week for fifth-years is leniently scheduled to help ease the students in preparation for your O.W.L.s, not to say you are allowed to miss classes, but since you only have one first day at Hogwarts, it's best you make the most of it.”

Now that Professor Weasley mentioned it, Beatrice did wonder where she'd get a copy of her own class schedule, though it was pleasant to know she'd have the week to properly acclimatize herself to this new world filled with magic.

“You have much to learn from here on, so you must be made aware that your professors and I have agreed to create additional assignments for you outside of class. You'll be up to speed in no time. Your retention of terms will prove to be most useful and judging by your adept use of Revelio earlier, I'd say Professor Fig has also succeeded in showing you the basics?”

“He did, Professor.” Beatrice answered, thinking the conversation was a way to gauge what she'd already learned from before term.

“He's been terribly vague as to the events preceding your arrival— specifically, about what happened after that awful dragon attack. I suspect there's more to the story than a search for belongings and an extended trip up to Hogwarts?”

“I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm afraid that's all there is to it.” Beatrice almost caught herself into answering the exact opposite. Professor Weasley reminded her of the Mothers from the convent, they had a ways about them that just made one hesitate to lie but-- A promise made was a promise kept, and she'd be damned to go back on her word with Professor Fig. Past experiences had a way to shape a person, she'd learned that all too late.

“Hmm. Almost precisely what Professor Fig said.” A beat passed as Beatrice hoped her face didn't give anything away, before Professor Weasley's gaze focused elsewhere, “Speak of the devil. Professor Fig, your ears must have been burning.”

“Oh?” Came the only reply from Professor Fig as he stopped by them.

“Yes. You seem to have provided Ms. Hayes with a solid foundation in the basics of spell-casting.”

“Ah. I'm afraid I can't take all the credit there, Professor. Aside from her seemingly endless desire for learning, Ms. Hayes turned out to have a rare aptitude for magic as well.” Professor Fig remarked, casting her a quick, meaningful glance before continuing his banter with Professor Weasley.

“Well, I am glad you both arrived in one piece. Perfectly good boats and carriages to Hogwarts and I'm left to wonder how you happened upon the path of a dragon?”

“It's safe to say that it was no pure happenstance Professor. Rather, unfortunately, the dragon simply chose us.”

“Hmm. Very well. Though I feel there is more to discuss on this matter, I need to get to class myself. Might I rely on you, Professor Fig, to explain the details of the Field Guide's map?”

With Professor Fig agreeing to take over from here, Professor Weasley turned towards her for some final reminders, “Good luck today. Remember your Field Guide, it will be invaluable to you and my keeping track of your progress.”

“Yes, Professor.” Beatrice acquiesced.

“Come find me in my classroom before the lunch hour after you've attended both your classes this morning. I'll explain more about those assignments I've mentioned, as well as getting you to Hogsmeade for those supplies.”   

Beatrice kept the smile on her face as she watched Professor Weasley's retreating form, only when she’d headed out a big set of doors did Beatrice take in a breath of relief, catching up on the shallow breathing she had all throughout her “interrogation”.

“Here I was, just hoping to have a word with you before you've immersed yourself in your studies, only to come across you masterfully evading Professor Weasley's interrogation regarding our late arrival.”

“It's good to see you too, Professor Fig.” The two of them shared a short laugh before Beatrice voiced out regretfully, “I do feel deceptive though... That said, when would be the best chance to tell her?” It wasn't a matter of 'if' now that Beatrice was sure of Professor Weasley's suspicions of them not being entirely forthcoming.

“Yes, well-- as much as Professor Weasley is a brilliant and astute witch, I think it'll be best we keep the details to ourselves for now. This... path that only you can see may require a bit more-- flexibility-- with your time once the situation calls for it, and that's a prospect I know Matilda wouldn't approve of.” Professor Fig said direly, adding as an afterthought, “Also for reasons that she may feel obliged to share details with the Headmaster...”

“Understood, Professor.” She already knew that look on Professor Fig's face whenever he'd have hidden meanings behind his upfront words.

“Good. Now, as capable as you are, I believe the ability you possess obliges you to be well-trained, and what better way to start than by being well-prepared as well.” Professor Fig then handed her a piece of parchment to which she read her official class schedule once the week had settled. She'll definitely be dreading Mondays but would look forward to her allotted daily free time.

“Your free times are usually allotted for reviewing and extra study sessions for your O.W.L.s this year.” Beatrice caught her mentor's stern look as if you he already had an inkling as to what great exploration she had planned beyond the castle's walls. He could only shake his head in fond amusement as he continued, “Happily, if you show outstanding results in your classes on the daily, you might just be able to earn the benefit of the doubt from most of your professors, especially with how you spend your personal time.”

He gave her a subtle wink at that, motioning for them to head up the Central stairs as he spoke, “Now so that I may avoid another not-so-subtle reproof from Professor Weasley, unfold your Field Guide to the Hogwart's Map page so as to activate the 'guide'.”

Doing exactly as she was told, Beatrice stepped back in surprise as something golden popped out, blinking twice to see where it headed. “If you squint, you'll glimpse a hint of a 'golden thread' just floating ways ahead, courtesy of the Charmed Compass cast on your Field Guide.” She did as her mentor said and true enough, something gleamed over the bridge they were walking on as they made their way towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Clever enchantment, isn't it?” At Professor Fig's mildly amazed tone, Beatrice glanced back down at the opened map and noticed a purple arrow moving in the direction as she was. “The maps are enchanted to help you find your way— be it the castle, Hogsmeade or other parts of the Highlands as well-- you just have to use it wisely.” He raised a brow her way, causing her to smile cheekily, “This does seem incredibly useful, Professor.”

“Yes well, curiously enough, this is the first of its prototypes to be actively used, as Professor Weasley insisted it’ll be most useful for your special case. I may have a theory on its many uses, but for now, I advise you be careful on asking it for which places to seek. You never know where it could actually lead you.”

Beatrice pondered at that as they turned a right inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower, hearing the swift ignition from a nearby Floo Flame just as she saw a corresponding symbol in her Field Guide light up in green. With raised eyebrows, she glanced at her mentor to check if he’d witnessed it as well, only to see him staring straight ahead as they neared the end of the corridor leading to a set of stairs.

This was definitely something she needed to study for herself, thumbing at a grey symbol wherein the Astronomy Tower came to her mind in a whisper.

“Sounds like you’ve quite the day ahead— what with classes and a trip to Hogsmeade for your supplies— most especially your own wand. You’ll enjoy Mr. Ollivander, he’s an exceptional craftsman and good friend.”

Glancing one last time at her Field Guide to confirm her classroom was indeed nearby, she then magically tucked the hardbound inside her school robes.

“I see that practicing your Extension Charm proved to be quite convenient?” Professor Fig asked with a tone of pride.

“It has, professor.” She smiled, especially please as they stopped on a floor with intricate tapestries draped on the walls.

“You’ll find me in my classroom, most days. It’s just at the end of this hall. And yours would be—”

“—just up these stairs. Right, Professor?” Still smiling as she pointed at the faint glowing thread from her guide.

“Right. Ready for your first day at Hogwarts?” He rubbed his hands together the same way as he’d asked her before the Sorting Ceremony last night.

“I’ve long since forgotten to dream about such a day. Can’t really believe I’m here…” She’d replied almost quietly.

“Well, you are here.” Professor Fig said warmly, “You only have one first day at Hogwarts. Make the most of it.”

Her smile returned at that, Beatrice knew he was trying his best to step up as her guardian at times instead of her mentor.

“I shall reach out when I have more information about our mysterious locket.” Professor Fig now said in a hushed tone, to which she nodded her acknowledgment. “For now, focus on your classes and pay attention.”

Beatrice had already accepted at this point that it was more than just her O.W.L.s that were at stake once it came to learning more about the Magic she inevitably possessed. She just first had to start with the basics.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

It was easy to spot the entrance to her Charms class if the flying bird origamis were anything to go by, but what really pleased Beatrice was the wide, airy space the classroom provided and the unconventional way the study tables were arranged— so unlike back at the convent with their strict learning regimen.

She’d just about spotted Samantha, who was busy arranging her books atop her desk diligently, when an eager voice reached her, “Here— behind you. There is an open seat here.”

Naturally, Beatrice looked up towards the voice to find a Gryffindor student cheerfully waving her over. Not wanting to come off as a snob to her other classmates, she went over, exchanging a smile with Samantha who nodded at her in understanding.

“Thank you, I’m Beatrice.” She’d introduced herself first as she took a seat beside the girl.

“Hello, I am Natty. So you are the new student? Have you met Professor Ronen yet—?”

Beatrice’s reply was a sequence of a nod and a shake of her head accordingly, though before she could feel awkward at now being labelled as the new fifth-year, someone had loudly cleared their throat to get the class’ attention.

“Welcome! Shall we begin?”

Assuming this was Professor Ronen, Beatrice watched in amusement as the jolly man went down a short set of stairs and energetically began with a brief introduction to his class, followed by the first question of the day, “Can anyone here tell me the difference between the incantations of the Color Change and Growth Charms?”

Everybody in class started looking busy then, not wanting to catch their Professor’s questioning gaze, “Volunteers? Anyone?? Hmm?”

It was when Natty sneakily tried to find answers from their prescribed textbook did the Charms Professor find his “volunteer” of the day, “I am afraid it is too late to study now.” He lightheartedly tutted as he summoned Natty’s book to him, inadvertently setting his sights on the new student beside her.

“Ah! Ms. Hayes, I am confident with the fact you studied before term. Would you be gracious enough to provide your classmates the correct answers to my question?”

Beatrice sat up straighter then at being put on the spot, briefly relieved to think that Professor Ronen hadn’t misplaced his confidence in accordance with his facts. “Colovaria and Engorgio, respectively, sir.” She had answered.

He smiled with narrowed eyes as he asked another question directed at her, “And what would you think is the reason why these two incantations are commonly confused with each other?”

You could very well hear a pin drop before Beatrice answered, “Based on the matter of term ‘to fill in’, sir. The caster must focus on a specific color for the former, while the latter only requires focus on its size of preference.”

Her latter choice of words also invoked amused reactions from most of her male classmates, much to her chagrin at their pubescent minds. Though Professor Ronen made quickly to shush them, a look of delight nevertheless was evident on his face, “20 points for Ravenclaw for answering both questions excellently.”

She smiled as Samantha quietly elbowed Duncan who sat on the table beside hers, before looking back to give her a quick thumbs up, with Natty even sounding happy for their House as she sat beside her. That was when she felt an intense stare on her, making her look across the classroom to lock eyes with a certain Sebastian Sallow yet again.

Their would-be staring competition however was quickly cut short as Professor Ronen leisurely strolled down the aisle, Beatrice choosing to focus on him as he addressed the rest of the class, “It seems the summer months have taken a toll on the rest, hmm? I guess you spent your holidays practising Obliviate on one another? His light tone was laced with disappointment.

“Do any of you remember how to perform a basic Summoning Charm? Hmm?” Now that the Professor was evidently back to finding another student to put on the spot, the rest of the class started to look awkwardly at each other, amusing Beatrice to see that Sallow now looked at anyone but her.

“Well!” Professor Ronen’s sudden exclamation seemed to gain the class’s full attention back to him, “It seems we are in dire need of review! Everyone, get into pairs and take positions on opposite sides of the classroom.”

Catching Natty’s eye, they silently agreed to pair up with each other, smiling. Her partner just about stood from their table when Professor Ronen gently casted back Natty’s book to her, all the while giving out reminders, “Let’s put these textbooks to use as the blunt objects you so believe they are and take turns summoning them out of one another’s hands.”

Beatrice risked a glance across the classroom again as Natty prepared, spotting the blond boy she’d first noticed at last night’s Ceremony standing opposite of Sebastian Sallow.

She briefly wondered if he was the “other friend” Andrew had warned her about, before she put her focus back on Natty for their classroom activity.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4.1

“You are a swift learner! Keep at it, you might just rival Ms. Onai here!”

Natsai Onai should have known the moment the mysterious, new fifth-year already earned 20 points for their House on their first day in Hogwarts that they would be a force to be reckoned with, and in this case, hard competition.

“Very good! Points again to Ravenclaw!”

Natty could not believe this was the same girl who dropped her ball over the court on her first try alone— granted she did better after that, but she also lost by 20 points to Natty herself on their first competitive round together. So how?

The Gryffindor looked at the two red balls assigned to her that now lay sadly on the grass over the court. The persecutor?  Natty stared in disbelief at the two blue balls which were stooped near the edge where hers lay defeated, the third of the blue balls overtaking the one she had on the 30-point mark.

A perfect score. Despite the added challenge Professor Ronen had placed for their second round. To say she was impressed was an understatement. But Natty had her misgivings on how the Ravenclaw student chose her tactics for winning.

Now if only Beatrice had not looked genuinely apologetic after, her hand stretched out to shake, offering no hard feelings. Natty knew then, as she looked straight into eyes that reminded her of eucalyptus leaves during early summers back in Uganda, that she should trust her instincts this time, as she accepted the outstretched hand.

It was nice to make new, possible friends.

And it seems Natty herself was not the only one taken to Beatrice's presence as she watched how a couple of her Housemates congratulated her once they stepped off the Summoners' platform. As Professor Ronen now called for another pair of students to participate in his class activity, Natty continued to quietly observe how comfortable Beatrice already seemed with the people from her House despite barely knowing them for a day, compared to Natty who had already been at Hogwarts for a year now. Not to say her own Housemates were any less kind, in fact they were friendly and warm, but she just never found it in herself to get too close and overtime her classmates seemed to have understood as well.

Natsai Onai was reliable for any help you will need regarding schoolwork but would rather keep to herself most of the time. Despite that, Natty found herself enjoying the comfortable silence she shared with Beatrice as they currently sat on the cool grass while their classmates entertained themselves in discussing the current pair up on the Summoners' platform.

“Sebastian's the best duellist in our year, so I've heard. I still think Leander wouldn't stand a chance against him, even at Summoner's Court.” Natty heard Dale quietly remark beside Beatrice.

Having known Sallow from the duelling club they were both in, she knew for a fact the girl's sentence held true, she also took the Slytherin to be quite the troublemaker if his detention record from the past school year were to be taken into consideration, although she would say that only started when his sister did not come back for school after the holidays.

The charming boy was still good at maintaining his friendships she had seen, but most often than not, he had his nose buried in some book or other— most likely even ones from the Restricted Section. So it was interesting for Natty to notice how Sallow would cast quick glances towards their way— specifically to the girl beside her— whenever he scored a perfectly summoned ball.

Beatrice was very pretty, Natty knew, she worried this would only invite trouble to her new friend's life in Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4.5

Her first class of the day was close to its end when Professor Ronen energetically encouraged his class to walk back up to their classroom, much to the grumbles of some of the students, while Beatrice took in a refreshing breath of the cool summer air before they'd head inside the castle. There was definitely something about the Highlands that felt more freeing than the city of London, though maybe it was all because of the magic that was Hogwarts.

Absently counting several of the towers that made up the majestic school, she quietly listened in on Samantha giving pointers to Duncan regarding his summoning techniques— speaking of which, she noticed Natty now hang back from the class. Beatrice admittedly wasn't proud of how she won that last round with the Gryffindor, but she thought everything had been forgiven when they'd shook hands over it.

She slowed her steps until she was pacing beside the quiet girl who seemed to be lost in her thoughts, “Everything all right with us, Natty?” She asked lightly, to which the other girl grinned while shaking her head in amusement, “Yes, everything is all right. Though I must admit, I think I underestimated you. It was definitely a good game.”

Beatrice smiled back, content with not having left a bad impression on the other, she let a companionable silence take over them as they walked with their class, before Natty softly spoke, “Took me weeks to become proficient with Accio. Took weeks for me to get anything right when I transferred here.”

“It is a lot to take in all at once. But I’m choosing to see this all as one big adventure.” Beatrice now understood why Natty welcomed her with such enthusiasm despite being from a different House, it was easy to empathize with a new student when Natty herself had just adjusted.

“That is quite a brave outlook you have. I cannot say everyone has the same temperament as yours to take things as they come.” Natty smiled at her warmly before her dark eyes drifted over their small group of schoolmates, her mind seeming elsewhere.

“I remember how I felt when I first arrived. I transferred here from Uagadou just before my fourth year. My mother received an offer to teach Divination here. Before I knew it, we had left Uganda and were halfway around the world at a new school in a new country.”

“Wait, did you say Uagadou School of Magic? The largest of all wizarding schools with its only known address being 'Mountains of the Moon'?? Is it like a castle carved out from a mountainside?” Beatrice tried containing her excitement as she asked. When she'd read about the handful of magical schools scattered across the globe, she had pictured Uagadou to be much like the cliff-face monasteries taught to them back at the convent, only this being lit by the moonlight, as was its namesake.

“My, it is the first time someone has asked me excitedly as you have.” Before she had time to be embarrassed, Natty laughed kindly, joy reaching her eyes, “It is still nice to go back to those fond times, I remember the first time I saw it. The mist was so thick I could hardly make out anything at all. And then it just materialised before me, this enormous school— that was not so much a castle as a beautiful edifice carved out of the mountainside— it seemed to be floating in mid-air.” Natty lifted her hands as if she could conjure the size of her former school.

Glad to see her new friend also catching her enthusiasm, Beatrice now didn't hesitate in asking her next questions which she was curious to confirm, “This may seem an odd question, but is it true that hardly anyone at Uagadou uses a wand? And that your Acceptance letters come in the form of a dream instead of an owl, leaving behind these... 'inscribed stones'?” She formed a circle between her index and thumb as if wanting to form a physical description based on her thoughts.

“You really are full of surprises, my friend.” Natty now looked at her in amused wonder as she continued, “I did have to learn how to use a wand when I arrived here. Though I find wandless magic to be much more instinctive. Not to mention quite convenient if one is without their wand. I must admit, however, that I am now growing quite fond of using a wand. It seems very dramatic.”

A beat passed as they started climbing the stairs towards their classroom, Beatrice wondering if Natty chose not to answer her latter question but was surprised when said girl handed her something instead. The stone was cool to the touch, its hazy light tone looked almost swirling around the single rune that was engraved upon it.

“My mother thinks it is a dreamstone of some sort, maybe the same material as her crystal orbs, but she never really found out about it. I have usually kept it with me all this time to keep me grounded but... I think it has now been called by its new owner.”

“Natty, I don't think—” Beatrice's protest was stopped by the other girl's hand closing over her own that still held the mysterious stone.

“I believe that you will make many friends and fond memories here at Hogwarts, but if there are times when you just wish to speak out yet hesitate to share your burdens— this stone will hear your deepest troubles.” Beatrice’s hand involuntarily twitched around the stone's cool surface, an uncanny contrast to the Gryffindor's warm hold. “It gets easier, I promise.” Natty smiled at her.

Last minute assignments were handed out before Professor Ronen dismissed the class, he'd exempted Beatrice for her excellent participation today but asked her to stay behind to be given instructions on her additional schoolwork.

“It's nice to learn more about another wizarding school.” Beatrice mused as Natty and her started leaving their seats, “And I really can't thank you enough. I don't think I deserve—”

“Then consider safe-keeping it for now, my friend, as thanks for making me remember some wonderful memories. I do miss Uagadou, but I am glad to be here at Hogwarts.” Natty had a fond smile on her face when they suddenly stopped by the classroom's middle aisle, she leaned in to quickly whisper, “I advise to be careful of Ominis Gaunt, however. His family is… associated with Dark Magic.”

Beatrice felt the smile on her face freeze as Natty leaned back talking as if nothing was amiss, “Ah, I think Professor Ronen wants to talk to you. Better not keep him waiting. Until next time.”

She watched as the Gryffindor quickly hurried out, her attention shifting to a pair of boys who walked past her as they conversed, “Of course, you can use Accio on humans, if you're so inclined.”

“Well, you'd be using it on clothing to be precise, Sebastian. You know it won't work on humans.”

Sebastian was someone Beatrice was getting all too familiar with, from his intense stare and charming smiles, but his other friend seemed to be quite the notoriety— what with having been warned about him twice, when it's only been her first day in Hogwarts. Ominis Gaunt, hmm...

“Ms. Hayes, a word if you would?"

Shaking her thoughts of boys from the House of Slytherin, she proceeded towards Professor Ronen to find out more about her additional assignments to come.

“So, how is your first day coming along?” Samantha greeted her from outside their Charms classroom.

“Samantha! I'm sorry to have kept you...' Beatrice wasn't expecting her Ravenclaw friend to be waiting for her.

“Nonsense! Besides, it's a free period for me, I was also wondering how your first day was going. You certainly seemed to hold your own in Charms.” They hooked arms as they went down the stairs together.

“I've been fortunate. Beginner's luck.” She and Samantha shared a laugh as the girl remarked in turn, “My brother William would tell you not to be so humble and to trust your abilities. Then again, he tends to be overconfident in his.”

She and Samantha took note of each other's class schedules before they parted by the D.A.D.A Tower entrance, “Will you be heading to the Library to get a head start on Professor Ronen's homework?”

“That or the Great Hall once I've got the references I might need.” Samantha patted the books she’d been carrying on one arm, “If you ever need help getting around, you’ve got Everett and Andrew in your next class, though I’d be lying if I said I’d rely on Clopton for anything.”

Beatrice had an idea where Samantha was getting at since she did see the bespectacled boy’s mischievous antics firsthand, it was a good thing she already had her Field Guide now.

“Well, I wish you more luck in your next class. You will need it more in Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Samantha said, waving as she went.

Now heading for the stairs herself, Beatrice couldn’t help but partly agree with what Samantha just said, luck had a great part in her making it this far, as the concept of magical duels was still fairly new to her. Despite the basic casts, spells and terms Professor Fig taught her during the summer, there was still the matter of “underage magic” they had to consider, which kept her from actually casting some of the more offensive spells she’d been curiously studying up on.

But if the start of her year was anything to go by, Beatrice would be damned if she relied on luck alone. She’d need to wield a wand better than any sword she’d held in the past.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

“You should have seen how she outwitted Natsai in their final round, Ominis. She was bloody brilliant!”

“Yes well, I already heard how ‘bloody brilliant’ she can be if she got exempted from our assignments on her first day.” Sebastian heard his friend grumpily mumble, “Wouldn’t be too surprised if she’ll turn out like most of the insufferable know-it-alls from her House…”

“You heard how she still had additional assignments to keep up with from Professor Ronen—” Sebastian surprised even himself as he went to defend the girl they’d just left behind at Charms, only doubling back to sound nonchalant as he continued, “—I think it’s in her favor to be an 'insufferable know-it-all', as you so kindly put it, if it'll help her catch up on the four years she's missed.”

“And the next thing you know, she's charmed your trousers off just to get her into the Restricted Section to play catch up with her. As if one of you isn't enough already...” Ominis was trying to hide his annoyance as he continued to mutter, “...it troubles me that I can't even get a read on her...”

Before Sebastian could be embarrassed with the first half of what his friend was mumbling on about, the real reason why Ominis was suddenly being snippy became glaringly clear to him, “Wait— you tried Legilimency on her back in Charms???” His question came out as a harsh whisper, all because Sebastian was aware of the mind-aching side effects that would plague both parties if Ominis delved in too deep. He had once been on the willing end of the Legilimens after all.

“I only tried tapping on her a bit just to check if she was the least bit aware of your sorry existence but—” Ominis huffed, adjusting his hold on his glowing wand as his furrowed brows relaxed to express his irk, “—the only thoughts I had the misfortune of hearing came from the disgustingly pubescent mind of a certain Lion cub. To say I'm pleased you weren't one of them, deepens my faith in you, old friend.” Oh, what Sebastian won't give to wipe any sarcastic trace off Ominis' face.

“The least you can do is give me an ounce of respect by not dumping me with that slobbering fool, Prewett! I'm quite keen on maintaining my sense of decency by just appreciating a new face from afar, like a brilliant work of art. Evident with how radiant our new classmate seemed this morning both inside and outside of class.” Sebastian just had to lay it on a bit thick to get a rise out of Ominis.

“Brilliant and radiant. Both blindingly beautiful adjectives to describe a person, Sebastian. I can tell.”

Sebastian frowned, not the least bit pleased with being one-upped by Ominis' smug reply.

“Oi, Sallow!” The two friends were interrupted from their lighthearted banter when a voice called out to Sebastian the moment they'd stepped foot inside the D.A.D.A. classroom. “Care to take our rematch out by duelling instead?” Leander Prewett asked loudly from across the room.

He felt Ominis give a quick pat on his shoulder, wondering off to the side as he quietly said something about placing bets. True enough, Clopton was already going around managing the small lot of Sickles and a couple of Galleons he'd spotted in the mix. He grinned inwardly at that, he's got to make sure to get a part of those winnings.

“Scared, Sallow?” His gaze now focused on the annoying Gryffindor across the room, Sebastian pulled out his wand as he smirked back, “You wish.” Before he let out a swift Stupefy.

The red-headed boy barely managed to cast a quick Protego, fumbling with his own Stupefy to counter, which Sebastian himself easily deflected as he cast back two rounds in offense. This only made Prewett scuttle back as he parried before he half-hazardly casted three rounds in self-defense.

“Is that all you've got?” Sebastian taunted as he effortlessly parried the other boy's attacks. If there was one thing Leander Prewett needed to learn in the heat of duelling, it was never to let one's ego take over-- all that basic casting to let out his frustration? Definitely a waste if none hit its intended target. Now if only the boy listened in whenever Sebastian used to recommend techniques during Crossed Wands to their members, it'll definitely help the stubborn red-head to stop being so narrow-minded.

Wanting to end their mini duel with a bombastic finale, Sebastian pointed his last spell just past the boy’s pretentious quiff, only wanting to jostle the other into falling back on his rump. What he didn't account for however, was Leander to deflect the spell at an upward angle, making the dragon skull above him wobble dangerously before it fell off from the rest of its attachment.

Sebastian's heart caught in his throat just as he was to cast a follow up Control spell when someone beat him to it, “Levioso!”

“Professor Hecat!” Someone from the class called out, a wave of both unease and relief spreading out among the class as their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher steadily descended the stairs from her classroom's office, magically holding up her prized “Hebridean Black” skull as she made a lesson out of it.

Just about managing to calm his beating heart from the rush of adrenaline that came with that duel with Prewett, Sebastian stilled as he then noticed the silent presence of their new classmate. Beatrice stood a little ways beside him, her mouth slightly agape with awe as her eyes seemed to sparkle with unbridled fascination at the levitated dragon skull.

Had he really meant to describe her being radiant, only as a joke? Sebastian felt his mouth go dry then as he now took note that Beatrice's eyes were actually a bright pair of emerald greens, it also didn't help that the morning sunlight reflecting off their classroom's windows casted an earthy brown sheen over her wavy locks that seemed to tickle the smooth expanse of her neck...

“Levioso? A levitation charm?” It was a begrudgingly good thing that Prewett's arrogant questioning broke Sebastian out of his blatant staring just in time to watch their Professor give the redhead a taste of his own medicine.

“A surprised opponent is a weak opponent. Care to defend yourself, master Prewett? No?”

What’d he say? Ego and arrogance wouldn’t help anyone in the heat of a battle. Sebastian thought smugly, not fighting the knowing smirk he had on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, inwardly laughing at the Gryffindor’s levitated condition. It was then he sneaked a quick glance at the girl beside him, briefly locking eyes with her as she now smiled openly at him, clearly amused.

Sebastian stood straighter at that, he guessed it wasn’t so bad to show off during their first day of class.

“Now, let’s practise what we’ve just learned— starting with something small.”

The class took to their respective desks as Professor Hecat left them each a feather on top. Sebastian knew that this short refresher was more for their new classmate’s sake— Levioso was an easy enough spell taught to them as first years, as long as one didn’t explode a couple of feathers in the process. He’d wager she’d get it on her first try if her adept use of Accio was anything to go by.

And true enough, their lesson moved faster from there as Professor Hecat insisted on “trying something a little larger”. As their desks were pushed to the sides, Sebastian caught quick whispers on another round of bets being initiated in the event there was a next duel in class, he’d spotted Clopton long enough to friendly acknowledge him, knowing he had a commission in the earlier winnings made under his name.

Focusing back on how Beatrice handled herself against a training dummy, he frowned at how she seemed to have a slack hold on her wand— it was a weapon as much as it was a part of themselves being wizards and witches— unless of course she held a second-hand one, then he understood why she didn’t seem to share a form of bond with it.

He drew closer just as Beatrice finished the training dummy off as Professor Hecat instructed, only finding himself roped in as their teacher continued, “The best way to practise is by duelling. We’ll start with you two.”

That made him freeze where he stood, meeting Beatrice’s curious gaze as she turned to look at whom their Professor was referring to, her eyes widening in familiarity. Sebastian felt himself relax with a smile, nodding in acknowledgment towards Professor Hecat as she instructed them to take their proper places, “Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome.” He said, still smiling, but chuckled as the girl now gazed at him warily.

“Now, I want a fair duel using only Levioso, Basic Cast, and Protego.”

Sebastian waited for Beatrice to find her footing on the suddenly raised platform, all too aware that another round of bets was definitely happening on either side of them. He decided then to take it easy on their first round, it’ll definitely look bad if he started out rough with her on the onset.

“You may begin.”

“This should be easy.” Sebastian voiced aloud before he casted a quick Protego, expecting the new student to do the same out of instinct from watching him. What he didn’t expect though was for her to use that time to cast a Levioso on him instead.

“Good form.” He had the time to compliment from his levitated position, watching as Beatrice smiled prettily up at him, “I know.” Before she mercilessly casted at him with three consecutive rounds that ended with him flat on his back on top of the duelling platform.

“Levioso!” He shouted over the delighted cheers and gasps of surprise coming from their classmates as he quickly sat up, only for Beatrice to cast Protego at a perfect timing that consecutively hit him with a Stupefy just as he’d found his footing.

“Your Protego, complicates things…” He stumbled back, trying to shake off the after-effects of both his fall and now her recent spell. “Lucky.” He just about raised his arm to cast back at her, when she beat him to the punch again, “Nothing lucky about it.”

“A perfectly executed Levioso.”

At Professor Hecat’s evidently pleased tone, Sebastian just had to remark as he floated near his downfall, “This can’t be your first duel.” Beatrice only afforded him a sweet smile, “Let’s just say I’m a quick learner.” Before the single cast she’d hit him with blasted Sebastian off the platform and over a pile of books that couched his fall.

The books’ scattered pages floated down on him like confetti amidst his classmates’ obnoxious cheers— not at the new fifth-year's victory, no, but at being given proof that Sebastian Sallow wasn’t undefeatable after all. Those were quickly the thoughts that drifted pass his mind as he blinked away his daze, looking up to find Ominis supposedly peering down at where he lay, the glowing tip of his wand beaming an indication to his current position.

He held a hand out for Sebastian to reach, an unreadable expression upon his face as he deadpanned, “Have you lost your confidence, Sebastian? Because I’m not able to see it from up here.”

“Oh shut your arse, Ominis.” Sebastian huffed out almost petulantly, pulling himself up with Ominis’ help.

“Might I remind you that it was your arse that was shut down just now?”

Having enough of Ominis’ glib humor, he gave his friend a quick pat on the shoulder as he went to intercept the new fifth-year who’d just walked away from the duelling platform, all the while patting away at the remnants of paper that could have stuck to his robes, “Not bad for a beginner. You give as good as you get.” He chuckled good-naturedly, seemingly giving Beatrice a cursory once-over, before he walked pass her.

He hoped he wasn’t blushing, because Sebastian Sallow would never live it up if his classmates voiced out that he’d lost to a pretty face.

Class was dismissed early after that, much to his classmates' delight. Sebastian waited by the room’s entryway as he watched Professor Hecat call the new student over, probably for more additional assignments— he couldn’t fault Beatrice if she wanted to do well in class, really, she did have a lot to catch-up on. Still, to say a bit of his pride hadn’t been bruised after that unexpected defeat, well…

Crossing his arms as he leaned back against the wall, he closed his eyes in contemplation as he pictured the beaming smile Beatrice flashed his way whilst he’d complimented her, green eyes sparkling with mirth… Guess he didn’t really mind silently tending to his own ego, every now and then. He rather liked the idea of being the reason behind her brilliant smile.

Now to say he fancied the new fifth-year? He remembered how Anne voiced her concerns through her letters when he started getting into detention months after she’d stopped attending Hogwarts— said she was doing all that she could to keep their uncle from getting wind of his troublesome ways, and that he should find a form of distraction more suited for his age. So maybe this was it, a form of magical intervention his twin managed to conjure his way— a fanciful distraction.

That didn’t mean he’d stop finding a cure for Anne though, it just meant he’d take a step back and assess the situation that many had claimed they’d exhausted all possible solutions to. It meant he needed to look at the bigger picture with a new set of eyes— ones that didn’t look at him in silent pity or outright judgement— rather a pair that sparkled with insatiable curiosity and openly looked back at him with no hidden agenda.

“Sebastian? Who are you still waiting around for?” Said boy was jostled out of his thoughts, finding Ominis standing by the classroom’s entryway beside him.

“I was actually waiting for—”

“Sallow!” Sebastian’s answer was interrupted by Clopton quietly trying to get his attention as the Ravenclaw surreptitiously handed him his winning commission, though he frowned as he thought it was more, quickly catching onto the glinting Galleons peaking past the pouch in Larson’s hands.

“Sorry Sallow, that other half belongs to Beatrice. The lot of us couldn’t help but bet on the new student who survived a dragon attack, after all.” Clopton supplied helpfully, which only made Sebastian’s frown deepen as he watched Larson comfortably lean over to whisper something to Beatrice as he handed over her winnings. That boy was getting too close to her for his liking.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Clopton.”

The jiggle of coins that came from Ominis made Sebastian’s furrowed brows raise upwards, finding himself gaping at his friend, “Ominis! You didn’t—”

“All’s fair in love and war, old friend.”

“Beatrice! Care for a tour around the castle?” Clopton had called over their new Housemate before Sebastian could give his friend a piece of his mind.

“Professor Weasley’s actually expecting to see me after my morning classes were done—”

“—and Professor Hecat also instructed for Sallow to show Beatrice the best place for duel practise.” Larson grumbled out, which only made Sebastian perk up, his focus glancing over the girl before he steadily met eyes with the blond Ravenclaw who was looking at him warily.

“Oh well, another time then. Try not to get lost on your way around, Beatrice. See yah!” Clopton shrugged good-naturedly, waving Larson over who had turned back to Beatrice to give her a reassuring smile before following his Housemate out.

Sebastian silently watched the Ravenclaw go, only then just noticing Ominis was still there as he suddenly spoke, “Sebastian. Try not to make a fool out of yourself.”

Before he could make a comeback, the boy had already strode out the room, the beaming indicator from his friend’s wand seemingly casting him in a confident light. This left Sebastian to glance back at the girl in front of him, clearing his throat as he said, “Nice work.”

He took notice how Beatrice kept a steady, unreadable gaze on Ominis as his friend left the room before her eyes focused on him, now warm and friendly, “I enjoyed that.”

“That duel was quite something. Everyone'll be talking about it.” And knowing how fast news travel in this magical school, he probably wouldn't hear the end of it...

“It was certainly good practice.”

“Practice?” Sebastian almost guffawed, “It felt more like I was duelling an expert.” And he meant it too as he remembered her stances during their duel, he didn't exactly just get distracted by her face-- “I don't think I've properly introduced myself yet, Sebastian Sallow, by the way. It was certainly a pleasure duelling with you.” He reached out a hand for a proper greeting.

“Beatrice Hayes. I don't think I've ever met anyone who finds pleasure in defeat as you have.” She shook his hand firmly, surprising him with her cheekiness, though Sebastian rather preferred it on her. “Sallow, then?” She then asked how to refer him by.

“Just Sebastian please, as long as I get to have the privilege to call you Beatrice.” He turned up his charm, thumb grazing over her palm before he let go of her hand, “Didn't expect a new student to be so deft with a wand... Then again, perhaps this wasn't your first duel?” He phrased it more as a question, seeing if she'd just shrug it off to sheer, dumb luck but... one didn't get those sorts of callouses she had from just two months of handling a wand. He would know better.

“I've duelled enough. Consider yourself lucky I held back.” Her otherwise haughty words spoken in such a deceptively sweet tone made Sebastian wryly exclaim, “Ha! Fair enough. You owe me an honest duel when you aren't.”

Now that just tickled Sebastian's curiosity for the new girl more, there had to be a reason why Professor Hecat was keen on introducing Beatrice to Crossed Wands. “Now about this 'best place for duel practise'...” Sebastian slowly started as he led the way outside their classroom, heading to a set of stairs that led up the D.A.D.A. Tower, “...I might know of someplace that's a perfect fit-- a certain exclusive, unsanctioned duelling organisation.”

“And yet I'd wager Professor Hecat is all too aware of your 'exclusive, unsanctioned duelling club'? He really did try to make it sound mysterious in order to wet the girl's curiosity, but Beatrice only raised  an eyebrow towards him in amusement, “Count me in.”

“Excellent. Knew I was right about you.” Sebastian grinned as he pushed open the double doors in front of them, not expecting the soft gasp that came from Beatrice as they started to cross the suspension bridge heading to Gryffindor Tower. At first he thought maybe she was uncomfortable crossing these sort of bridges-- he'd encountered some younger years who were-- but when he turned to look at her, she had just stopped to take in her surroundings, staring at the Owlery in the distance with the same solemn look of wonder he had seen of her from last night's Feast.

“You know, there's a lot more beautiful sights to see outside the castle.” He softly spoke beside her, eyes trained on her face.

“I know.” She smiled almost ruefully, turning to meet his gaze, “But being in Hogwarts is a beautiful adventure in itself, isn't it?”

He returned her smile with a mischievous one of his own, “Speaking of adventure, if you want to get the most out of your time at Hogwarts, you're going to need to break the rules now and then. Whether it's joining a 'secret' duelling club or sneaking into the Restricted Section of the Library-- you just have to be clever enough not to get caught.”

As they now walked through the South Wing of the castle, Sebastian watched the pensive look on Beatrice's face as she mulled over his words, almost regretting that maybe he had said too much about him being nothing but trouble—

“I'll keep that in mind.” She finally smiled, the glint in her eye saying much about her captured interest, “Thank you, Sebastian.” He'd managed to tamp down that giddy feeling that might indicate her interest in him as well.

“Speaking of 'secret' duelling clubs, where exactly are we headed?” Sebastian heard her ask, only looking away momentarily as he steered Beatrice pass Peeves' current tormenting of a Hufflepuff student, when he was surprised to see the girl now had a hardbound book in her hand and what appeared to be a map. Where had that come from??

“The— uh, Clock Tower...” His reply came out unsure as he tried to make sense of what Beatrice was actually looking at, and no sooner had she repeated their destination and tapped on the map did something golden pop out, he squinted to confirm what exactly it was he was seeing, “Merlin's beard...”

A short laugh from Beatrice in reply, “I can never get used to your forms of expressions...” As she waved the book she held in her hand in front of him, “This is called a Wizard's Field Guide. Professor Weasley gave it to me this morning, said it would 'help keep track of my learning' in a way.” Beatrice air quoted.

“So other than helping 'track' your way around the castle, how exactly will you be learning from it?”

“Hmm? Oh, this looks like a perfect example to show you!” Sebastian definitely didn't mind when Beatrice firmly held onto his forearm, quickly missing the warmth of her hand as she let go when they stopped in front one of Hogwarts many statues standing about— he honestly never paid much attention to them. So, imagine his surprised when a piece of parchment magically appeared in front of Beatrice at her mere cast of Revelio, the paper swiftly disappearing into the hardbound she was carrying.

And just when Sebastian thought this girl wasn't surprising enough.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5.5

“So how many are there?”

Beatrice looked up from reading Lachlan the Lanky's page just in time to see something briefly glint beyond the walled map she and Sebastian just passed before she answered the boy's question, “Oh— I think maybe... around at least a hundred?” She answered most casually, still planning when to study her Field Guide more, and maybe enhance her Revelio casting abilities if objects other than Field Pages were starting to shimmer before her—

“A hundred???” How does Weasley even expect you to find all that within the school year??” Sebastian sputtered.

“I'd imagine most of them are here in Hogwarts, I did say it's already quite an adventure to be here.” She just had to think of it as a big game wherein she had to “collect” stuff along the way, the Floo Flames were coming along easily enough, and she was pleased to have activated yet another one in her map as they entered the Clock Tower.

“And so here we are, I'll introduce you to Lucan Brattleby and see if he's got any rounds open. We'll find out if your performance today was sheer luck— or actual skill.” Sebastian grinned at her as they approached a younger Gryffindor student.

“Well, if it isn't the undefeatable school champion, Sebastian Sallow!” The boy greeted enthusiastically upon seeing the Slytherin.

Sebastian met the boy's enthusiasm as they shook hands in greeting, laughing heartily, “Surprised you haven't heard the rumors yet Lucan, I’ve been usurped, embarrassingly so…” He made a show to wipe away crocodile tears.

“Can't really expect me to believe that unless—” Lucan stopped in his sentence as he just took notice of the girl beside Sebastian.

Beatrice only observed in amusement as Lucan leaned in towards the older boy as he whispered, though she couldn’t help but hear it either way, “Is that her? From the rumors?? The new fifth-year???”

Chuckling as he leaned away from Lucan, Sebastian nodded in her direction as he replied, “The very one. Fresh from her first day at Professor Hecat’s class, if you get what I mean…?” He and Lucan shared a look with the younger initially staring owlishly before the realization of what Sebastian said seemed to have sunk in, “Oh! Then if Sebastian vouches for you, that's all I need to know.”

The boy now looked at her and introduced himself, “I'm Lucan and I coordinate duels here for Crossed Wands, which is our duelling club of sorts. It's usually by invitation only, so you must have really impressed Sebastian.”

“Hello Lucan, I'm Beatrice and while I'm flattered to hear that, Sebastian's not a bad duellist either.” She glanced at said boy only to see him smiling comfortably back at her with his arms crossed.

“I'd imagine it's quite something to see the two of you duel.” Young Lucan had an almost knowing grin as he glanced between the two fifth-years.

“How does Crossed Wands work, exactly?” Beatrice asked, curious if the secret club was had anything like the Quidditch seasons she'd read.

“The official tournament of champions will start next month, it's our way of determining the school's greatest duellists, the winner is even awarded a prize to liven things up. In the meantime, I'm still getting our members' time schedules, so for the next two weeks we'll have daily Initiate rounds for the newbies at certain times.” Lucan paused enough to point out the schedule he momentarily hang by the gate, “Though now that you've showed up, I can match you with the other duellists here, if you're interested?”

“Of course. Duelling's an entertaining pastime.” Beatrice perked up at the mention of a prize, briefly remembering what Andrew had whispered to her back in class... “Congrats in earning your first lot of pocket money, it'll definitely help with future trips to Hogsmeade.” And if the glint she saw earlier was anything to go by, then Beatrice didn't have to feel burdened by Professor Fig covering for her personal expenses.

“I agree.” Lucan’s reply almost made Beatrice think he had read her mind, her focus was now on him as the boy continued, “Besides, in Crossed Wands you can duel with a partner if you like.  Your first time I'll pair you with Sebastian. Next time, you'll need to bring a partner along or duel alone. So care to step into the ring?”

She and Sebastian shared a look, smiling back at the younger boy with a nod, “Get us in the ring.”

“Spectacular. Let the fireworks begin!”

They were soon paired off against a younger Gryffindor, Lawrence Davies, and a Housemate of hers named Astoria Crickett-- who Beatrice was sure she'd heard the name being mentioned before— “We'll make you regret signing up.” At the other Ravenclaw's scathing words, Beatrice now had an epiphany as to why Astoria did not seem to be the type to want Everett in her Quidditch team. She did sound intimidating...

“Mind if I let you handle this for a bit?” Sebastian broke through her thoughts as he held up his wand with a smirk.

“And be able to practice my actual skill in duelling? Why not?” She gave him a smile of her own, palming the handle of her wand, it definitely weighed lighter than a sword which made the past spells she'd cast under Professor Fig's tutelage easier to project, no matter how complicated her mentor said it initially would. But ever since she'd “activated” that glow from the Portkey's container, there was this steady built of power she was suddenly feeling inside herself, something she needed to cast out through duelling lest she feel like she might implode, but her second-hand wand was only now starting to feel like a cork—

“Glacius!”

Beatrice managed to pull up a Protego despite her shock at being casted a spell she had yet to use for herself, she casted Stupefy back in retaliation, enough to give her a split-second to note that both her opponents were susceptible to any control spell based on the yellowish glow from their shield charms.

“Levioso!”

“Confringo!”

Beatrice looked back in surprise at Sebastian's obvious damage spell that followed the one she'd just casted, to which the boy only shrugged in turn before his eyes widened as he pointed his wand at her, “Accio!”

Oomph! Beatrice felt Sebastian's one arm wrap around her protectively just as the flames from an Incendio nearly blasted her way. Maybe she'd bitten off more than she could chew, she only had two spells bouncing in her arsenal right now and none of them even included these nasty fire starters, for Godsake!

“Eyes on the prize, luv.” He whispered in her ear before he pulled back to give her a smug look, though this just made her smile sweetly in return, quite pleased with something she'd learned from him just now, “Guess you were right about Accio being used on humans.” She patted him on the chest as she quickly went to finish the round with a new strategy in mind, unbeknowst to her that she had left the poor boy with a slowly reddening face, which was definitely not the after-effects from the Confringo he'd just casted.

A combination of Levioso, Basic Cast and Accio later, Beatrice was more than pleased to hear of their victory, “Nice work! Sebastian wasn't wrong about you.” Lucan had said after the match ended. Speaking of, Sebastian had grown suddenly silent...

“There's strong competition ahead, but keep this up and you could be the next school champion.” 

“Brilliant. Count me in on next month's tournament.” She was definitely curious of that prize.

“I shall, it takes time to organise these duels, so do come check with me tomorrow round the same time. I may have something lined up for you. Again, congratulations on your first Crossed Wands victory. Well-fought. Hope to see you back here again.”

It was when Lucan walked away to speak to the other club members that were there that Beatrice spotted Sebastian who had Davies in a headlock, “Just wait till I've grown a bit— then we'll see how well you do.” The younger student grunted almost petulantly.

“Oh yeah? Make sure I haven't grown white hairs then lest they put you in Azkaban for picking on the old!” Sebastian retorted back playfully as he head-knuckled the boy.

Beatrice smiled at the easy camaraderie Sebastian seemed to have among their schoolmates, she felt ashamed that maybe she had easily jumped to conclusions when she'd closed her mind off to the Sorting Hat and remained adamant with her House of choice, partly due to a sense of prejudice. Though Beatrice still wondered about the advise she received regarding Sebastian's friend, Ominis Gaunt, it's as if there's an insinuation that she'll get herself in trouble if she was to befriend even half of the Slytherin pair...

“I feel sorry for your next opponent.”

“Astoria! I don't think we've properly met, I've only heard from Everett about you in passing.” Beatrice offered a hand in greeting to the girl who suddenly spoke beside her.

“Tell that oversized runt there's no chance he'll be making the team as long as he hasn't been cleared by Kogawa, and that's even if Black brings back Quidditch next year!” Astoria huffed, though she met Beatrice's outstretched hand with a firm grip of her own, narrowing her eyes with a sly smile, “And you're Beatrice I've heard, despite being the new fifth-year, you seem to be making friends with a troublesome lot.” Astoria then nodded towards Sebastian's direction.

“I think I can get away with a little trouble here and there, thanks.” Beatrice furrowed her brows, loosening her hold on Astoria's hand but the other girl held on for just a bit longer, “Don't let the young Gaunt hear about it then.” She had said with a taunting smile, before letting go of Beatrice then walking away.

“Well, I’ve places to be. See yah around fledgling~”

Now that would be the third time she was warned of Ominis Gaunt. Truly there must be a charm in threes... and speaking of places to be— Beatrice gasped.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

“I'm truly sorry for taking up all your time like this, Sebastian. You know I can get around the castle just fine.” Beatrice fretted as they both reached the stairs down the D.A.D.A. Tower heading towards the Transfiguration Courtyard.

“Relax, I was heading to the Library anyways, it’s just along the way.” Sebastian paused a beat, before he slowly asked, “Heard Lucan's got something lined up for you tomorrow?”

“Around the same time, yes actually.” Beatrice wondered why he'd asked out of the blue, to which the boy gave a cheeky reply, “If you ever need a partner for Crossed Wands, don't hesitate to call on me.”

“Careful Sallow, others might think I made you hit your head too hard back in Professor Hecat's class if you keep this up.” She teased back.

“Well, you are the only one who's ever bested me in a duel for some time now. The way I see it, I'd be wise to keep an eye on you. I might even learn a thing or two.”

“I'm sure there are a lot more interesting things you're learning from your clever trips to other unsanctioned places.”

“Interesting things yes, but not exactly what I've been looking for...” Beatrice made to look at Sebastian as he trailed off, his mind seeming somewhere for a short moment before his gaze focused back on her, now with a teasing glint, “I'm sure you'll find out soon enough, but not every spell you may need can be found in our assigned textbooks.”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes at Sebastian then, she may have an idea as to what he may be referring to when she openly asked, “Oh? Which ones?” After all, there was no harm in prying for answers that could be given freely, unless they came with consequences.

“Seems I may have met a kindred spirit. Now, that is a conversation for another time.” Sebastian let out a hearty laugh as he pushed open the doors heading out to the Transfiguration Courtyard, he had a brow raised in challenge whether she'd push him further for an answer, but the ensuing whoosh from a nearby Floo Flame she'd activated upon entry made her remember to focus on her current objectives.

“Well then, here I am.” She said, acceding that she wouldn't push for now, as she made to part ways.

“Here you are, indeed. It was a pleasure chatting with you.” Sebastian stopped to watch her, a bit too intently if she was being honest, as he held a knowing smile on his face, “I'm sure I'll see you soon. Perhaps somewhere 'unsanctioned'. If you're interested.” Beatrice watched as the boy shook his head in afterthought, as if not believing he'd said that out loud, before he turned away and raised a hand in parting, “Till next time.”

Beatrice waved a hand at his retreating form as she smiled, Sebastian had been a charming companion from the start, there wasn't any real reason for her to steer clear of him despite the advise she's had regarding his friend, who she thinks deserves the benefit of doubt especially when she hadn't personally interacted with the Gaunt boy just yet.

She’d pushed open the door to the Transfiguration Classroom with a smile on her face, quite pleased to have activated two Floo Flames in the area, when she spotted Professor Weasley quietly talking with a house elf who quickly disapparated upon seeing her entry.

“Ah! There you are.” Said the Professor as she stood up from her desk and made way towards Beatrice, “I trust your first classes went well?” She had asked with a warm smile.

“They did, Professor.”

Professor Weasley looked pleased as she nodded in reply, “I heard as much from Professors Hecat and Ronen. Seems Professor Fig taught you quite a bit before you arrived.” A beat before her following question, “I’d wager there’s a good deal more to your travels here than what you’ve told me— isn’t there?”

“Nothing more, Professor.” Beatrice hoped her smile hadn’t frozen solid on her face as she tried to relax her shoulders in answer.

“I see. Like trying to get a sonnet from a Streeler.” Professor Weasley looked at her a moment longer, in somewhat utter dismay this time, which truly pricked at Beatrice’s conscience, before the older woman continued speaking, “Regardless, you must continue to build upon what you’ve learned. I trust your professors have already mentioned the extra assignments they’ve prepared to hasten you in your school progress?”

At Beatrice’s affirmation, she couldn’t help but wonder when exactly she would get started. She actually didn’t mind the additional workload if it meant to add to her magical repertoire.

“In fact, Professor Ronen will meet you outside momentarily to assign your first one. Now, regarding the trip to Hogsmeade I mentioned earlier.” Professor Weasley held out her hands as a piece of rolled parchment and a small drawstring bag appeared in front of her, which she then handed over to Beatrice, “We’ve arranged to replace the supplies lost on your way here— including seeds, potion recipes and spellcrafts— as you’ll see in the list, and this bag will assist greatly in helping you carry all that you may need.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Beatrice couldn’t believe her luck! The Extension charm she’d casted on her robe pockets could only hold enough not to make a sound, but this bag would definitely come in handy when she’d start checking out books from the Library.

“I’ll be looking forward to the perfect wand Mr. Ollivander will connect you with. You’ve managed your classes well with a borrowed wand, but you’ll find the magic you cast with a wand that has chosen you to be far superior.”

“The wand chooses the wizard...” Or so Beatrice had come across from a quick reading on wandlore, but one thing she was certain of was that the Ollivanders’ were genuine craftsmen and highly skilled wandmakers.

“I’m eager to get to Hogsmeade.” She’d pocketed her additional items, feeling bubbling excitement at the prospect that surely her new wand will help this uneasy built-up of magic she was inwardly feeling.

“Very well. I’d like you to make your first visit to the village with a classmate, help you get your bearings. Perhaps Sebastian Sallow or Natsai Onai? I’ve heard from Professors Hecat and Ronen you’ve spent time with them.”

This gave Beatrice pause, a slight tilt to her head as she quickly ran over her decision… Natty had already been here for a little over a year but— she’d automatically thought the safer choice would be someone she had already seen and duelled against. Especially in the event that goblins like Ranrok would try to ambush her outside of Hogwarts…

“I’d like to go with Sebastian.”

“Glad to hear it. Mr. Sallow is a capable young wizard and he knows the area. He’ll keep you well clear of any of Victor Rookwood’s undesirables en route.

“Rookwood?” Beatrice furrowed her brows in question, and here she thought it was only goblins she and Professor Fig had to worry about.

“A rather unsavory local. Best to avoid him and his associates— including his ‘right hand’ of sorts, Theophilus Harlow— if you can.” Suddenly, what Samantha said last night began to make sense. But why wasn’t the Wizarding community doing anything about it, especially with the town so close to school? Beatrice momentarily worried how this sounded like the small-time muggle crime syndicates back in London, maybe even worst.

“I’ll have Mr. Sallow meet you at the castle doors in an hour, don’t worry about your afternoon Electives, you’re excused. Go talk to Professor Ronen about your assignment before the lunch hour begins. The sooner you complete your work, the sooner you can enjoy a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.”

As much as Beatrice took Professor Weasley’s stern look seriously, she also hoped she’d be able to enjoy a mug of Butterbeer in peace at Hogsmeade.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6.1

“Somewhere unsanctioned.” He’d said, if Sebastian hadn’t the good sense to turn around at that moment, he was sure Beatrice would have seen the beginnings of a blush painting his already freckled cheeks. And if Anne was here, she wouldn’t have let him live this down and might as well have dug a ready grave to swallow him whole.

Great Merlin, just several months without his twin sister’s guiding humor and he was starting to sound like a rake, it also didn’t help that Ominis was starting to get snippy these days. He was well aware how his friend relied on Anne to “give color” to his surroundings, she was great with words and the way she told them— a true storyteller, he called her— and Ominis would always be happy to listen.

Sebastian had an inkling that the very thing that made Ominis cranky these days was the barrage of thoughts he had to “wade pass” every time the Gaunt’s curiosity got the better of him. He even once assumed Ominis only preferred using Legilimency with Anne, after hearing his friend once remark how his twin had an active imagination the boy could get lost in.

Those were the days that made him happy for his sister and how he’d probably found a potential brother-in-law in his best friend, but all that changed, and the one thing that would make him happy now was finding a cure for his sister.

Before his thoughts could take a grim turn however, Sebastian found himself almost unceremoniously shoved on his rump as a Gryffindor girl all but rushed out from one of the Library’s doors in a panic. Judging from her head of wild curls, Sebastian could guess it was Cressida Blume, as to why she had suddenly ran out like Cornish Pixies were after her was beyond him though.

He almost felt a sense of dread as he went down the narrow stairs leading into the Library, taking a moment to push open the door, quite prepared to see chaos being wrecked between the tall shelves of books when suddenly the door pulled back on its own—

“Gah!”

“Godric’s balls, Sebastian! Pipe it down!”

Ominis was quick to cover Sebastian's outburst as he held a hand out to cover the boy's mouth, only removing it as the audible click from the door shut behind them, an awkward silence settling amongst the narrow stairway where they both stood.

“Ominis, what the hell—”

“I'd tell you what hell is like but have decided to spare you from it instead, lest Scribner catches sight of you beyond that door.” Ominis interrupted Sebastian's hushed whispering as he steered the boy to go up the stairs instead.

“How could I have possibly earned her ire on the first day of the school year? I haven't done anything wrong, besides I actually do still borrow books from the regular shelves, you know!” Sebastian protested as he found himself in the Central Hall again with Ominis further leading them up the stairs.

“Need I remind you of the many detentions you've somehow managed to 'slip away' from? The next time Scribner catches you, she'll see no reason but to head straight to Black for it and Anne and I wouldn't be able to keep your uncle from finding out!” Ominis whispered harshly as they came out towards the Viaduct Bridge.

“I would have done those detentions, regardless... Though I do owe you in sparing me most of them.” Sebastian sobered as they quietly walked side by side, “But honestly, what made you think Scribner's got her drawers in a twist more than usual today?”

Ominis made a face at that, possibly from Sebastian's question or what he had to say next, “The same reason I couldn't find myself a quiet place to read in there anymore when Blume released her flying books, or so I've heard Amit explain.”

Reaching the Great Hall minutes later for lunch, Sebastian was now quietly skimming through the selections Ominis had borrowed from the Library when he realized a particular title that could greatly help them with their homework wasn't even in the pile—

“Indulge me Sebastian, did Lucan Brattleby wet himself when he saw how the new fifth-year handled herself in a duel?” Ominis had asked him out of the blue in-between bites.

“Hate to disappoint you, the kid seems pleasantly curious about her.” Sebastian answered offhandedly, his mind already mapping out ways to go back to the Library without possibly triggering the wrath of its Librarian while his eyes unconsciously landed on the next table, trying to spy a familiar dark head but to no avail.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6.3

Back in Central Hall, Lenora Everleigh stared intensely at a frame she was sure wasn't there before in her past four years in Hogwarts, granted the castle had a knack to magically create its own puzzles for the students to entertain themselves with, but the Hufflepuff was certain that this frame (and the couple others she had spotted in different places), was proving to be a rather baffling case... “This cannot possibly be as difficult as it seems.” She groaned out in frustration.

“Accio!”

Lenora almost jumped out of her skin as a parchment of paper flew over her head, she was about to tell off the perpetrator to be more careful where they casted their spells when she watched how the page magically attached itself to a book the student was holding— the student being the new fifth-year.

Her brows furrowed as she observed how the newly sorted Ravenclaw stood out like a sore thumb in her eyes, she found it ironic how the girl found herself in a House full of overachievers when she looked like she needed a little bit of hardwork instead. Lenora may have stared far longer than she planned when the subject of her scrutiny looked up just in time to catch her gaze, which she wasn't fast enough to avoid.

“Hello. I don't believe we've met, I apologize if I disturbed you in some way, I'm Beatrice.”

“Oh, hello. I'm Lenora. Pardon me if I seem a little distracted at the moment.” She'd planned to excuse herself after that, but curiosity got the better of her when she'd deduced Beatrice sounded friendlier than her peers, “Quite the dramatic entrance you made last night. Can't imagine wanting to call attention to yourself. Especially since everyone will be watching to see how much you already know.”

“I must admit I have a lot of catching up to do, though I doubt everyone's that much interested in my case.”

Oh, how wrong she was, if Lenora had anything to say about the buzz she'd heard from their Table last night, most especially the boys. Although she'd garnered it'll only take a week at most before the “exciting mystery” that the girl presented in front of her would die down, that only made Lenora want to jab, if just a little, “You'd think. But four years of schoolwork is a bit much. Being that far behind, I'd feel so... inadequate.”

That said, Lenora still consciously eyed the new student from head to toe, stifling herself from making a disappointed sound at seeing the girl was a good couple inches taller than her, “Of course, I'm sure you'll prove yourself in no time. Presuming you possess that searing wit your House is known for.” Lenora stood up straighter then, as if trying to prove a point with what she had to say next, “I think I should have been a Ravenclaw, at least my family somehow expected me so.”

“I'm sure the Sorting Hat would have let you choose, had it given you options?”

“It didn't.” Lenora found herself deflating then, thinking back to the quick whispers as to why this new student took a bit while on the stool— she'd been given other options— though as to which House, Lenora could only hazard a guess.

“Everyone thinks I'm utterly barmy. Your friend, Samantha, thinks I'm potty.” She said glumly, looking down as she couldn't take the genuine look of concern she glanced on the other girl's face. “But really, it's just this painting, I never noticed it before.” Lenora tried shifting the topic away from her as she nodded towards the mysterious object behind her, “If I know Hogwarts, and I do, an empty frame doesn't appear for no reason. There's something more to this, I'm sure.”

“Have you gained any insights about the painting since you've been studying it?”

She blinked at that, risking a glance back at the girl who now focused on the object Lenora had mentioned, “I— did discover that casting Lumos has an effect of some kind, but I'm not sure what to do next. The surface just shows something blurry, as if damaged by water...”

“Are there any other empty paintings like this around the school?”

Was it safe for Lenora to assume that this new Ravenclaw seemed genuinely interested in something others from her House would consider trivial? “Yes, a few. This entire place is somewhat of a riddle to be honest. If I can work out the riddle of this one, I'll know what to do with all of them. We Hufflepuffs do enjoy a good riddle every now and then.” Lenora proudly said as she looked over the other girl.

“It does sound intriguing, may I have a look, if you don't mind?”

Lenora shrugged in response, though she couldn't help but be delighted, it won't hurt to have some form of help in this huge place, “I've been wracking my brains long enough. I hope you'll have better luck than I have. Do come and find me if you stumble on something illuminating that solves the mystery.”

She decided to step back and watch from the balustrades if the new Ravenclaw was just being nice when she'd asked all her previous questions. Maybe she'd be just as quick to give up once she'd found herself stumped with no clue, seeing as she walked away with no clear indication to where she was headed, after Lenora saw she had indeed taken her word to cast Lumos.

To the Hufflepuff's surprise however, she watched as the student came jogging back towards the painting not even a minute had passed, and what was that flying around her illuminated wand?? Lenora kept herself from tumbling over the balustrade as she peered at the parchment that magically appeared before the other girl after whatever was flying around her wand stuck to the painting's frame. Was it a treasure map of sorts?

Grumbling at what could have been her discovery, she hadn't noticed when the new Ravenclaw now approached her from the stairs, “Lenora, I've solved the mystery of that painting.”

“I saw that you did. But how?” Lenora looked at the smiling girl's face and mentally prepared herself to hear a long explanation that she would no less expect from a student of House Ravenclaw.

“I found the location depicted in the painting after casting Lumos as you had suggested and guided a moth back to the frame.”

A beat passed and Lenora blinked as she expected the girl to say more, but the other only smiled kindly in return, “All very logical, I suppose. Pity, I was so close to solving it.” Lenora looked down in dismay, she was sure however the location was depicted that it always appeared blurry to her, so what made it easy for this new fifth-year...

“I— may have an idea as to why the location appeared blurry for you, Lenora.”

As if reading her mind, Lenora looked up to find an open book being handed towards her, “Professor Weasley gave me this Wizard's Field Guide to help keep track of my first year in Hogwarts, in a way. That piece of parchment you saw from the painting just so happened to be one of the hundreds of pages I’d have to collect for the school year.”

True enough, Lenora thumbed at the small moth engraved at the corner of the page as she continued to hear her schoolmate out, “I apologize if it's caused you this much trouble but— would it be too forward of me to ask for your help in keeping an eye out on things? Anything that might pass as a riddle in some way?”

Oh? Lenora looked at the other girl in surprise as she handed back the hardbounded field book, “Well, you do have a knack for solving riddles.” She slowly said, clearing her throat, “Natty's good at that too. So is Amit— although he does tend to overexplain... I'd be happy to send you an owl every now and then for anything I find. Hogwarts is a big place as you'll find out, it's a good idea to get all the help you'll need.” Lenora shrugged nonchalantly.

“Thank you so much, Lenora! Truly, I owe you for this.”

“I'm just glad someone figured it out. A moth of all things! I should have seen that!” She shook her head at her schoolmate's enthusiasm as they parted ways. Maybe not all Ravenclaws were insufferably patronizing, she was too harsh on the new girl. What was her name again? Ah yes, it was Beatrice.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6.5

Cressida Blume spied through the Library's doorway where Madam Scribner could have positioned herself, she'd need to be stealthy about it if she planned to retrieve her books with no problem. Ugh! What she'd give to have an Invisibility Potion right now, better yet, she start mastering that Disillusionment cast next to her nonverbal ones—

“I'm really thankful, Amit. Though I wouldn't want to trouble you—”

“It's no trouble at all. I have a free period after the lunch hour, so I'll still be heading to our Common Room then to drop these off. Besides, you wouldn't want to carry all these books to your first trip to Hogsmeade, would you?”

“I definitely would have borrowed these other titles some other time had you not highly advised how hard it'll be to come across them after the week is up.”

After hearing the quiet laughter from the other side of the Library's door coming closer, it was too late for Cressida to step back when— “Oof!” She fell back on her rump as the door was pushed open.

“Ah, sorry!” A pause before the boy in front of her proclaimed in silent surprise, “Oh Cressida, you came back to the Library, I see. Though I don't think Madam Scribner is now in an agreeable mood...”

“Is everything all right here?” Another voice followed the boy's somber observation, letting the door close behind them as they helped Cressida up.

“I really have made a mess of things... Thank you for asking though, but I'm afraid everything's still not all right, and I may be caught in a spot of trouble with the librarian.” Cressida sullenly said, looking up to see that it was the new fifth-year that was conversing with Amit just now, both their arms laden with books of varying covers and sizes.

“My arms would fall off from carrying those number of books around all day. It's why I've even taken to creating my own 'light as a feather' charm for them.” Cressida groaned in frustration as she raised her hands to her hair, “But I must've confused the Latin word for 'feather' with 'bird' in my incantation, and the next thing I knew once I opened my bag just now in the library, they literally took flight.”

Cressida was well aware that she must have looked crazed at the moment as the two Ravenclaws remained silent during her tirade, though it was Beatrice who ended up speaking first, “That sounds brilliant, actually.”

This made her turn to look at the new student to see if she was mocking her, to which the other cleared her throat as if wanting to clear up any misunderstanding, “I meant the charm, not the— well, the books taking flight on their own.”

This made Cressida blink once, then twice for good measure, before she found herself saying, “Thank you. It was a lot easier than mastering nonverbal casting, though somehow, I don't think Madam Scribner would praise me for it.” She sighed in defeat then, “I was planning to stealthily collect the books and remove the charm myself, except this isn't the first time one of my charms has threatened the peace of the library. She last said that if I caused her any more trouble, she'd write to my parents.”

She now looked accusingly at the boy who remained quiet all this time, “If Amit hadn't told the Librarian they were my books flying around, I would have ended up with a better plan instead of rushing out in a panic before Scribner could spot me.”

If it was possible for Amit to have raised both his hands up in defense, he would have, instead he bowed his head close to the pile of books in his arms as he said, “I didn't mean any harm, truly! I was just greatly impressed and ended up bragging on your behalf. I'm sorry, Cressida.”

“I know, you moonmind, quit that!” She ruffled his hair, so she didn't have to see him with his head down any longer, “This Amit, spends a lot of time gazing at the stars, but he knows a good charm when he sees one.” And he's definitely one of the good guys around here too. Cressida kept that last line to herself as she gave him a furtive glance.

“I could help.”

That made Cressida instantly focus on the new girl in bewilderment.

“Think about it, I'm sure the Librarian won't be suspicious of a new student looking around. Although it might catch her attention if she notices me noisily waving my wand all over the place, maybe you could give me a quick demonstration of a nonverbal Accio cast?”

It was at that moment that Cressida knew she had her mouth agape, of course she initially had an inkling that maybe the new fifth-year was in fact Professor Fig's protégé— homeschooled by him from an early age and most probably been given advice on nonverbal casting no less. In fact, with the way Cressida observed how Beatrice held herself in their morning classes together, she saw no reason to believe the rumors that the girl only grew into her magical abilities merely over the summer.

“I have to let you know, Beatrice, if you don't do nonverbal casting correctly, the results can be... Shall we say, awkward.” It was Amit who stepped in, taking her silence as reluctance to teach his Housemate, “Like how Cressida here once tried a nonverbal Depulso on a goblet in the Great Hall, and it ended up launching Professor Sharp's Yorkshire pudding into his face—!”

She raised her hand at that moment to stop Amit from spilling anymore of her past misdeeds, sure that her face was a shade befitting her House as Beatrice stared back in disbelief, though the look in her eyes betrayed the amusement she seemed to have found from the situation.

“To cut the story short, Professor Sharp was not happy.” Cressida made to glare at Amit but only sighed in defeat at seeing his helpless shrug, “Although Amit is right, there's a reason Hogwarts doesn't teach nonverbal casting until the sixth year, and even then, many struggle with it. But— there's no harm in trying to get ahead of the game.”

Staring decisively back at Beatrice, Cressida made the first move, “First, let's start with your dominant wand hand.”

Moments later, Cressida found herself both anxious and oddly fascinated with watching Beatrice from the Library's doorway, as the girl quietly and efficiently retrieved her flying books— one of them being her diary, which she'd rather not fall into the wrong hands. Coincidentally, this was where the new student came into the picture, not only had she done a splendidly theatrical arrival to the Sorting Ceremony last evening— only making it by the skin of her teeth, as Cressida sardonically described-- there was also an underlying mystery as to who Beatrice was before starting at Hogwarts.

“It's amazing how Beatrice quickly mastered a nonverbal Accio, and to think she had only been introduced to her magic not more than two months ago.”

“I didn't take you for one to believe in baseless rumors, Amit.” Cressida rolled her eyes at the boy who stood beside her by the door.

“I only managed to hear about it from Constance during our first class this morning, since Andrew seemed interested with asking questions about her. I don't think it's entirely baseless considering she and Beatrice are roommates.”

“And— are you… interested in her as well?” Cressida wasn't sure why she held her breath, but she kept her gaze steady looking out into the Library. She knew the concept of mystery was already enough to garner any true Ravenclaw's interest, but from how she’d kept hearing Leander prattle on to Garreth earlier about their new classmate, she knew Beatrice had more going for her than just being a breath of fresh air.

“Ah yes well, I do find her to be an interesting person based on these books she’s decided to borrow, despite it just being her first day.” Cressida tried not to think too much about the suddenly empty pit in her stomach as she decided to focus on the said books, her brows furrowed at seeing the couple of Goblin-related titles included in the haul. “She’ll definitely fit in with the rest of us in our House, what with that endless curiosity of hers, but—” Cressida’s focus on the books’ titles shifted to Amit at his hesitation, the boy’s expression thoughtful as he continued, “—I can’t help but think Beatrice is bound to be lonely if she pushes herself too much. You know how us Ravenclaws tend to be individualistic at times? I just think… there’s no harm in lending her a helping hand, just to get her through with being new here.”

Cressida could only blink in reply to what Amit had said, he truly was one of the good guys here in school— maybe the only— but before she could say just about that out loud, the door to the Library slowly opened as Beatrice quietly sneaked inside.

“Cressida, I managed to collect all of your flying books with Madam Scribner none the wiser, it’s all thanks to that nonverbal cast you taught me too.” Cressida could tell Beatrice had more to say than that judging from her otherwise conflicted look. The moment she saw that her diary was atop the pile Beatrice had returned to her, she suddenly felt uneasy as the girl spoke further, “Better be careful with future Latin spells, I suppose.” When Beatrice only gently smiled at her and gave an almost unnoticeable shake of her head, did Cressida let herself relax. Perhaps she could see why her other classmates found it easy to be nice to the new girl.

“Lesson learned. Better work out where I went wrong, and perhaps start brushing up on my Latin.” It was Cressida’s turn to smile back at Beatrice, “Thank you.”

“Now that we’re back to carrying these heavy lot in our hands, why don’t we stop by the Great Hall and grab some lunch?” Amit asked, now with an armful of books as he smiled at both girls, “I believe you’ve also someone to meet afterwards, right Beatrice?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6.7

Sebastian tapped his foot slowly in thought as he waited by the Bell Tower’s main entryway, still left somewhat flustered as to his given duties for the afternoon and the reason why he managed to avoid a wrongly judged detention on his first day of classes…

Obviously, he hadn’t heeded Ominis’ warning on NOT stepping foot in the Library today when he left the blond who was preparing for his first class of the afternoon, whilst Sebastian ignorantly waltzed right pass the shelves of books, already knowing the Library’s way of categorizing its many tomes.   

When Sebastian didn’t find the book he was looking for in the one shelf he knew it was supposed to be placed, he already knew the next course of action he would be doing as he climbed down the 2^nd floor stairs and headed straight for Madam Scribner’s desk. It wasn’t really his fault she wasn’t at her station, and it’s not like he had all the time in the world to wait around until the Librarian came back from her rounds, when he knew exactly how to consult with the woman’s Book of Records.

Rowena Ravenclaw’s amassed books that mostly made up Hogwarts’ Library would of course present itself with its own sentient guardian to keep track of its papered treasures, with some of the titles that the Book of Records kept, marking Sebastian’s trips to the Restricted Section during the latter part of his 4^th year, when he stumbled upon the Library’s secret “record’s keeper” while reading Ominis’ beloved copy of “The Four Founders”. Turns out, it was Ravenclaw’s way of making her beloved books be more accessible to its students, so Merlin knows why it was only to be seen by Hogwarts’ Librarian now.

“Let’s see… I’m looking for a book—” Upon hearing Sebastian’s voice, the book shook open its pages to reveal an empty compartment hidden between its leaves, making Sebastian snicker in amusement.

“I’m actually looking for a class-related book this time, not to bribe you with anymore bookmarks.” This was in fact the Book’s curious attempt to “hide” any record of the books Sebastian would borrow out of the Restricted Section, the catch was that it required payment in bookmarks of a certain color, size or making. Seeing firsthand how the Library’s guardian ensured that all the books under its care had their own accompanying bookmarks between their weathered pages, Sebastian acquiesced that it was a good few Knuts lost on his part to contribute to the Book’s cause while also researching a cure for his sister. Knowledge always came with a price, one way or another after all.

“The spellbook on ‘Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes’, did anyone check it out today?” The Book then started to turn its pages almost sullenly at Sebastian, making the boy sigh in response, “I promise I’ll be back for another book you can request a bookmark for, I just prefer to keep a low profile this week.”

The Book of Records then stopped on a page, subtly giving off a happy glow as it highlighted the book Sebastian was looking for as well as the name of the borrower, who he found himself getting acquainted to as of late…

“Sneaking into places you shouldn’t be on your first day back, Mr. Sallow!”

Sebastian tensed at the shrill reprimand that came from Madam Scribner at seeing him standing by her desk just as the Book of Records quietly closed in on itself, “I was actually hoping to see you on my first day, Madam!” Sebastian put on his best winning smile as he continued charmingly, “But seeing as you weren’t here at a time I was looking for a specific title for class, the Book of Records was kind enough to help me locate it.”  

“Such nonsense! The only thing you’ve been helping is—”

“—The new student.” Another voice spoke up before Madam Scribner could finish her sentence, attempting to grasp her bearings upon seeing their Deputy Headmistress, “Professor Weasley, as you can see, I’ve caught Mr. Sallow somewhere I deemed him inappropriate to be and I think it’s only right that detention is in order—”

“—Which he will be serving under me, Agnes. I assure you, detention will fail in comparison to what’s in store for him this afternoon.”

Sebastian couldn’t help raise his eyebrows at what Professor Weasley had said, but remained silent as he watched Scribner be content at the thought that he was in more trouble now that the Deputy Headmistress was involved.

“Come now Mr. Sallow, we’ve places to be.” Casting one last uneasy glance at the moldy Librarian, Sebastian made to follow Professor Weasley out the Library.

“I take it from Professor Hecat that you’ve become acquainted with our new fifth year?” Professor Weasley asked just as they entered the busy hubbub that made up Central Hall.

“You could say she’s made quite the impression for the whole class, but yes we have exchanged a few words, Professor.” And then some, Sebastian kept that last tidbit to himself.

“Hmm… Well, it seems you’ve also left quite the impression on Ms. Hayes, enough for her to request your presence in accompanying her to Hogsmeade this afternoon.”

“Pardon, Professor?” Sebastian asked in surprise, thinking his ears were deceiving him.     

“As we’ve all, incidentally, been made aware of the unfortunate circumstance prior to Ms. Hayes’ arrival last night, I’ve arranged a quick trip to Hogsmeade to supplement a list of her lost belongings and a new wand at Ollivander’s.” Sebastian’s brows shot up at now having been given confirmation that he truly had, in fact, lost a duel to someone who had yet to even wield a wand that they could call their own.

“I’ve instructed her to meet you by the castle doors once the lunch hour is over. You’ll be excused from the remainder of your classes this afternoon and I’ll also be granting you House Points in exchange of safely escorting Ms. Hayes to Hogsmeade. Do you have any more questions, Mr. Sallow?”

Despite Sebastian being most definitely curious as to why this particular task didn’t exactly present itself as an equivalent to getting detention, he wisely kept silent and was now left to ponder the opportunity that presented itself in his hands. There was still the matter of the reference book he was initially on the hunt for, and now seems to be the most perfect time than any to ask if Beatrice was open to sharing the book with him, maybe over study time after dinner tonight.

Sebastian was already nodding in self-satisfaction at his brilliant plan of action when he spotted the telltale waver of cobalt blue robes now heading his way, “Well, fancy meeting you here.” He said in amusement as Beatrice came closer.

“Hello, Sebastian.” She greeted back almost sheepishly, he noted, judging from the slight blush dusting her usually fair cheeks.

“Ah, my new ‘charge’. I’m told you’re in dire need of supplies and I’m to accompany you into Hogsmeade for them. It’s an honor, assuming this is your first foray into the village?” Sebastian couldn’t help but emphasize a hidden question behind his words.

“It is. I haven’t left the castle since I arrived, unfortunately, this also caused me to be quite a burden to your time today.” Ah, now Sebastian could ascertain the source of Beatrice’s discomfiture.

“No worries. I quite understand if you feel the need to spend time with me really, what with the exclusive knowledge I’ve imparted with you so far. Though speaking of which, you seem to have acquired something that’ll greatly assist me in accomplishing the Charms homework you’ve cleverly gotten exempted from Professor Ronen. What do you say to a trade? Time with me to Hogsmeade this afternoon, in exchange for your time sharing a certain reference material with me later during Study period?”

“You’re starting to make me rethink my choice of company between you and Natty, Sallow.” Sebastian watched with bated breath as Beatrice narrowed her eyes at him, her blush now replaced by a playful smile on her lips as she continued, “I see no other choice but to leave my fate in your hands this afternoon Sebastian, but know that I chose you for your experience with duelling, just in case our quick excursion to Hogsmeade takes on an eventful approach.”

“Well, if my deftness with a wand is most agreeable to you, I shall endeavour to be the very best of guides then.” He’d realized too late the innuendo he may have teased in just now, clearing his throat to quickly make up for it, “Hogsmeade’s a charming little place. Self-contained too. We should be able to find you everything that you need. Shall we?” He reached out to open one side of the castle’s doors, gathering the courage to glance at Beatrice’s reaction, thankfully the sight of Hogwarts’ grounds still left her amazed enough to gloss over his slip in decorum. It wouldn’t do good if any of the student body mistook him for being sleazy with the new fifth-year, aside from his resident detention-seeker reputation.

“Care to put a little jog in our steps on our trip to Hogsmeade?”

“I garner, the sooner we get there, the sooner I’ll be able to pay my debt to you during Study period tonight.”

Sebastian felt his heart skip a beat at her teasing tone, but chose to hide his flustered state as he lead the way into Hogwarts’ grounds, it was by the time they’d reached the North exit gates that he was sure he could speak with confidence, “I was glad Professor Weasley asked me to join you today, she seems to have taken quite a shine to you.”

“Has she? That’s nice to hear.”

Slowing down his gait, Sebastian looked back to see that Beatrice had a familiar-looking tome in her hands— what was it called again? A Wizard’s Field Guide?

“I’m still surprised that a professor would entrust me with anything, given my detention record.” He spoke as Beatrice reached his side.

“Spend a lot of time in detention, do you?” She snapped the book shut and placed it out of sight before focusing her full attention on him.

This consciously made him look away as he started picking up the pace in their stroll again, “Just enough to keep me well-rounded. Speaking of detention, this trip to Hogsmeade might’ve saved me from one.”

“Glad I could be of service.” He noticed Beatrice had no trouble keeping up with him, so long as she wasn’t getting distracted with their surroundings.

“Madam Scribner, the librarian, was on the hunt for me— as is often the case. Professor Weasley came to retrieve me and was able to convince ol’ Scribner that I had somewhere to be.”

“So how did you manage to get on the librarian’s bad side?”

“Well, I suppose it’s a matter of differing opinions. She thinks I shouldn’t be allowed in the Restricted Section, and I, on the other hand, am inclined to disagree.” He might as well come clean to her why he was ‘spending a lot of time in detention’ in the first place— better be a seeker of knowledge than a no-good troublemaker.

“Oh, just one moment.” He found himself stopping off the side of some glowing bushes as he continued, “This is an excellent spot to gather lacewing flies. They’re pretty to look at, but if you stew them long enough they make a powerful potion ingredient.”

He was about to hand her some of the spare bottles he usually had in his robe pockets when she surprised him yet again by producing one of her own, wandwork efficient as she gathered the tiny, glowing insects before closing the lid over them— and of course that Field Guide of hers was again in her hands.

Sebastian couldn’t help hide the snort of laughter that threatened to escape him, which made Beatrice look at him with furrowed brows, “It’s not you, really—” His amusement now reduced to a snicker as he remembered fondly, “—my sister, Anne, she’s just the complete opposite of you gathering those particular ingredients. An absolute menace, especially during our first year, whenever she’d choose to dive in a bush to make the lacewings scatter— always teased that her way of living in the moment should have landed her straight to Gryffindor, and she would have, if not for a common friend we’d made just before the Sorting Ceremony that day…”

He made to continue their stroll, catching Beatrice’s unwavering gaze on him as he walked back, “…I actually would have been sorted into Ravenclaw, myself.” The pleasant surprise that graced her features then was enough to make him smile, and he could practically hear the metaphoric gears shifting in her head as they continued towards their destination, fancying the thought that maybe he’d caught her interest now too when—

“Merlin’s beard! From the Forbidden Forest! Look!”

“What’s going on??” Sebastian was quick enough to notice how Beatrice tensed the moment they’d both heard the tumbling of trees off to their side.

“Relax, see for yourself!” They slowed to watch a pair of adult Hippogriffs majestically fly pass overhead, “Quite a sight, isn’t it? You certainly don’t see that every day.” He was relieved to see his companion’s rigid posture relax into an open look of wonder as Beatrice’s eyes followed the magical beasts that flew by, he would have completely stopped to observe the beautiful sight in front of him too but—

“Do you think Poppy’s already seen the Hippogriffs?”

“Absolutely.”

As if Plummly’s voice wasn’t already known to grate on one’s nerves, Larson’s tone that soon followed made Sebastian subconsciously bristle, though he chose instead to keep walking while Prewett boisterously came up with some silly names for the beasts, enough to make him scoff in distaste.

Unfortunately, as he found himself lost in thought at how those Hippogriffs would happily prance over the loud red-head’s body, Sebastian only then noticed that his lovely charge was called over by that Housemate of hers. Stopping ways atop a stone bridge as he watched from afar how the blond Ravenclaw almost looked proud at having to introduce Beatrice to their other schoolmates, Sebastian only looked away when he saw Larson lean towards her to whisper something. It was becoming an inappropriate habit, that git.

Beatrice soon found her way to him right after, but he petulantly chose to start jogging straight ahead as he took quick breaths of the cool Highlands air, “To the left is the Forbidden Forest. Out of bounds to all students.”

“Hence the name.” Again, he wondered if she had already broken a sweat in their stroll with the way her voice still kept steady.

“Precisely. They think it’s too dangerous. I think they need to have more confidence in our defensive abilities.” Sebastian huffed out in exertion now, stopping as he pointed towards something ahead of them, “Ah, you can see Hogsmeade just past those ruins up ahead.” He looked back then when he was met with silence though, seeing Beatrice stood ways from him as he observed her gazing back at the entirety that made up Hogwarts. The majestic backdrop along with the glow that came from the early afternoon sun only enhancing the mystery that this girl presented him with— it was what caught his attention of her in the first place.

“Have you had much of a chance to explore the castle?” He asked gently as he came closer, careful not to jostle her out of her reverie.

“A little. It’s positively enormous.” The small smile that graced her fair features spoke of more secrets that enticed him to unravel.

“It is that. I’ve been there five years and barely scratched the surface. Loads to see. Places to discover.”

“Oh? Any you’d like to share with the class?” She glanced up at him in amusement as they resumed their stroll in a more leisurely pace. He couldn’t help but smile knowingly back at her, “Perhaps one day. I can’t go around telling you all my secrets now, can I? You still haven’t told me how you became so good at duelling.”

Half expecting silence from her, he was surprised instead to hear her laughter, “Alright. You’ve now probably heard all sorts of rumors from whence I came, tell me what you know, and I might as well find amusement in hearing the most absurd of them.”

Interesting… This was a chance for Sebastian to slowly unravel the mystery that was the new fifth-year, so of course he’d grab at the opportunity.

“Very well, since you willingly offered. Let’s see, you’re either Professor Fig’s protégé, taken in from a family of various blood statuses— who were either ashamed to have a Squib in the family or entirely didn’t have Magic at all.”

He watched as Beatrice nodded along in a way of maybe, amusing him enough to continue, “Or you could be the Professor’s lost / estranged daughter, suddenly introducing herself with the awakening of her newly discovered Magic?”

Beatrice furrowed her brows at this, but Sebastian found himself on a roll before he could think to stop, “And there was also that bit of being a young paramour…” Although it was truly an afterthought as he murmured that last part, he was too late to realize as Beatrice stopped in her tracks and instantly gone quiet.

“I know that one was a nasty rumor.” Sebastian found himself saying quickly as he stopped to look back at his companion, her expression now unreadable but he could swear he almost felt the hair rise on his nape, as if he was about to be struck down by something. Although it was instantly gone the moment Beatrice sharply looked away as she slowly let out a breath, continuing their stroll.

“It’s my fault. Knowing how rumors can range, I should have stopped you at the first one.” She said in a clipped tone, which made Sebastian run a hand on his nape as he closely followed her, an apology already halfway out his lips when Beatrice continued talking, “My mother was the Squib, but Nana loved her dearly despite that, half-expected it really when she married my Muggle grandfather. A man of many stories from their archeological digs together, she’d fondly tell me, he treated her as his equal. Shame he hadn’t lived long enough to raise my mother alongside Nana.”

Sebastian found himself mesmerized, knowing this was a rare moment to hear this mysterious girl start to open up to him, he quietly listened in as he watched a faraway look slowly overtake Beatrice’s features as they walked, “Given that my mother had me when she was barely 18, and considering her weakening constitution after… My Nana was the only one left to raise me alone.”

He, of all people, knew how it was to have lost a parent— no amount of consolation would make it easier, even in the long run. The least he could do though is offer Beatrice comfort, though instead he found himself hesitating as his hands clenched at his sides, choosing to watch on as she held out her second-hand wand in a state of self-reflection, “Despite having raised me to be aware of Magic, she never once tried teaching me the most basic wand movements. I tried learning it on my own out of childish curiosity and sheer fascination, but later only assumed that maybe Nana never bothered teaching me for the same reason that I may never be able to wield Magic at all.”

Something caught Sebastian’s curiosity with what Beatrice said, “You— never said anything about your father…?”

A beat of silence immediately followed before, “Nana never told me anything about him.” Proceeding to tuck away the wand she held, Beatrice then looked Sebastian straight in the eye as she spoke resolutely, “And I didn’t bother to ask after someone who never took responsibility for my mother.”  

He felt that hair-raising sensation again that came with Beatrice’s gaze, but it was gone the moment she looked away, “Instead of an Acceptance Letter from Hogwarts, I was carted off after my Nana’s passing, the same month I turned 11… You’re familiar with the concept of convents?”

Taken by surprise with her sudden question, Sebastian answered the best way he could remember from a time when Ominis had dragged him and Anne to temporarily take on Muggle Studies, “Places of worship, or so I’ve read, mostly made up of women, yes? Like a coven of sorts?”

“Structurally, maybe. But therein lies the difference in beliefs— I’d have been sooner burned at the stake for even talking about the Magic I grew up being aware of. So, I kept mum and continued with my studies that way.”

“Forgive me if I get this wrong, but I don’t recall the Muggle education for women had anything close to the equivalent of duelling…?”

“True. In fact, we were generally taught to be ‘perfect housewives’, extending that training to the young girls and women we took in— some of which were even daughters from noble families, ranging from children to ones who were close to bear their own wee-born as well. In secret, of course.” Beatrice gave a meaningful glance towards Sebastian as she said that last bit of information, continuing, “The donations that came with keeping such illicit affairs behind holy grounds were exceedingly generous, enough to expand on other sets of skills that could prove useful for our small community.”

And while it took him a while to wrap his head around the concept of a ‘perfect housewife’, Sebastian became all the more curious as to the last half of what Beatrice said, “I’m guessing by ‘other sets of skills’, you meant duelling? I’m curious how it made you adapt quickly to handling a wand.”

“You’d find training to defend yourself from any manner of threats to be quite useful.” Her somewhat cryptic smile didn’t help in sating Sebastian’s curiosity at all, “And with the number of noble ladies under our care, we couldn’t very well risk relying on men to guard the ones we were entrusted to ‘keep safe until their coming-of-age’. Our Mother Superior foresaw this all and even encouraged our participation in some way or other, she— also happened to be my late grandfather’s older sister.”

“Seems like you have something waiting for you back in London, then? Training to be next in line to your grandaunt?” Sebastian found himself whistling at her revelation, trying to wash out the sudden feeling of disappointment on finding out her future commitment.

“It doesn’t work like that though. There was the matter of my legitimacy at birth, after all.” He instantly felt regret at seeing Beatrice’s smile turn bittersweet, knowing he’d struck a chord, “It was either I’d get adopted or I got married, and well… I was a bit past the age for the former…”

“I’m sure your grandaunt wouldn’t have easily condoned with the latter either…?”

“She wouldn’t have. Had she still been alive.” Beatrice trailed off as they heard the sound of hooves coming their way, he extended an arm to gently steer the girl away from the beast-drawn carriage, only then noticing how Beatrice had slowed her steps as if to observe the macabre creatures in the light of the afternoon sun.

“I’ve always thought Thestrals pulling a carriage a bit grim. Though I suppose most people don’t actually see them at all.” He never did feel comfortable with seeing the creatures that heralded Death.

“But you can see them?” He detected surprise in her tone, and a touch of curiosity, though this time he felt hesitant to share.

“Unfortunately. But you’ve seen quite a bit yourself first-hand too— Most notably that dragon attack.” He chanced a guess that the main reason Beatrice could see Thestrals had nothing related to losing a loved one as he and his sister had, “Hopefully the rest of your year isn’t as eventful.”

A companionable silence enveloped them then as they both turned right from the post pointing towards Hogsmeade, he’d only risked a glance at Beatrice to see how she was fairing when— “Oof!”

Sebastian instinctively held onto the person who bumped into him, instantly recognizing the man unsteady on his feet, “Mr. Moon! You look a bit worse for wear, are you alright?”

“How is he? Do you know him?” Beatrice asked as she assisted in leaning the older man towards a dead tree stump off the side of the road.

“He’s the Hogwarts caretaker.” Sebastian shrugged as his companion gave him a disbelieving look in reply, “Hello Mr. Moon. Have you met our new fifth-year?” He resisted the urge to wave a hand in front of the older man’s vision to test just how out-of-it the other truly was.

“Pleasure. You might want to turn back Mr. Sallow. Turn and— run.”

“Sir. Is everything all right? He and Beatrice slightly took a step back as the older man was racked with hiccoughs, exclaiming in-between, “It looked right at me! Eyes big as saucers!”

Now exchanging a careful glance with the girl beside him, Sebastian slowly asked, “What did, Mr. Moon?”

“Demi—guise. Ugly and hairy and terrifying!” Mr. Moon hiccoughed in what sounded to be distress in-between his barely coherent words, “I shall be at the castle where it’s safe. Good luck to both of you!”

Deciding to leave the man to stumble back towards the school, Sebastian only voiced out his utter disbelief when he was sure Mr. Moon was already out of earshot, “A Demiguise? I don’t know what he’s putting in his pumpkin juice, but he’s obviously had too much of it. I’ve never seen Mr. Moon in such a state.” He rubbed his chin in contemplation as they continued towards the small bridge leading towards their intended destination.

“Aren’t they beasts that can turn invisible? Do you think Mr. Moon actually got to see a real one?” He was amused at hearing Beatrice’s enthusiasm at the thought of seeing one for herself, he’d hate to break her heart by not keeping her hopes up.

“Well, Mr. Moon is quite the character. My sister Anne thinks he’s lovely, but I’d say he could improve a bit as a caretaker.”

“Speaking of, I’m assuming your sister is in Slytherin too?”

“She is— or rather, she was. She’s not well at the moment, but she’ll be better soon and back at Hogwarts.” Sebastian found himself hesitating to divulge more at the moment as they both now entered the lively village, choosing to bask in the surrounding chatter as he breathed in, “Honestly, if one could bottle the magic of this place— I don’t know if it’s the shops or the people, but there’s just something about Hogsmeade. We all flock to it like moths to a flame.”

Spying Beatrice stop by some precariously stacked cauldrons outside Ceridwen’s, he watched as she pulled out a piece of rolled parchment from her robes before he decided to ask, “So how would you like to do this? I see you’ve got a list from Weasley of things to get— a wand and some other bits?”

“Yes, dittany seeds, some spellcrafts and some potion recipes.” She skimmed over the parchment, listing off it as a giddy smile threatened to win over her features, Sebastian thought her adorable.

“Perfect.” It was only when she stopped looking at her list and focused on him instead did Sebastian backtrack on what he said as he cleared his throat, “Can’t wait to see what you do with a new wand. And a short list gives you plenty of time to poke around the village.” He ended with a short clap of his hands before awkwardly continuing, “I uh, actually just have to pop into a shop to find something for my sister. Do you mind if we meet up in the town circle when you’re finished?”

“Oh! Of course, wouldn’t want to impose too much on your time than I already have…” Beatrice trailed off while she rummaged her robes to fish out her Field Guide, “And this’ll surely help me in keeping track of my list!”

Sebastian had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at Beatrice’s barely concealed attempt at wanting to cast Revelio all over the magical village, “Glad to hear it. Remember, have fun. It’s Hogsmeade.”

It was when they’d already parted ways did Sebastian find himself slowing to a stop, glancing back to spot Beatrice disappear inside Tomes and Scrolls, did he come to the realization that he hadn’t exactly found out about the circumstances surrounding her sudden, if not late, admission to Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

“Accio!”

Beatrice summoned a flying Field Page towards her as she walked through the West of Hogsmeade, and while she would have preferred to try casting non-verbally again just to avoid the curious glances of some of the village’s residents, she’d rather not accidentally summon a wandering owl straight to her face. Additionally, there was also the matter of distance and weight to consider when using this particular ‘Force spell’— she was actually hoping to work on the ability to throw heavier objects around as a means of defense when push goes to shove— but there was the matter of her current wand starting to prove uncooperative when casting even the simpler spells.

She wrinkled her nose as she looked down at her Field Guide, seems like the remaining pages of the 55 it indicated was going to have to wait until she had all the time to spend in exploring the magical village. The tiny beads that decorated her small drawstring bag jangled as she tucked it away in her robes, along with her Field Guide, as Beatrice now made way for the last stop in her list.

“Try to dodge away from trouble, if you ever find yourself in one.”

Andrew’s whispered words on her way to Hogsmeade, now rang as a warning in her mind as she stopped just outside of Ollivanders’, the quaint shop’s windows reflecting back an image of her— robes that looked a tad too big, and her mousy brown hair framing eyes that only ever made her Nana look at her forlornly, if not sometimes just a bit accusatory— She grasped the door’s handle to keep herself from falling further into self-deprecation, welcomed by a bell’s lively jingle to signal her entry.

“Merlin’s. Blooming. Beard. Not again.”

Gerbold Ollivander muttered to himself as he took stock of his raw wand materials from his shop’s backroom, his suppliers were definitely finding it harder to travel in-between hamlets these days, but these wands won’t make or repair themselves, would they? Gathering several of the wand boxes in his arms, he then heard the telltale chime announcing a customer, “I’ll be right with—” Planning to pop out and quickly declare he’d just take a moment to organize the boxes he held, Ollivander stopped short as he took a good look at the student that peered back at him curiously. Not just any student, but the new fifth-year Professor Matilda Weasley had owled him about earlier this morning, “Ah! It’s you! Um, just a moment, please.” He quickly dropped the wand boxes in his backroom for later, choosing to focus first on the curious case in front of him as he stepped out.

“Hello sir. I’m looking for—”

“For a new wand, yes. It’s about time.” Brushing at the countertop, he tried to remember the details Matilda had provided him regarding a certain Beatrice Hayes and the otherwise mysterious circumstances relating to her admittance at Hogwarts at a later age.

“Yes, I— about time?” The new student that stared back owlishly at him did strike a familiar pair of eyes, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on who… He remembered the detail of her being a Muggle-born though, it usually helped in providing a couple wood wand choices he’d deemed compatible to match with its new owner.

“Well, you’re our new fifth-year student, are you not? Oh, what am I saying? Of course you are. Gerbold Ollivander’s the name! But, of course, you’ll have heard of the Ollivanders. I’m sure. Finest wandmakers in the world. It’s a pleasure to meet you, truly.” He offered both hands to greet the curious, young witch, knowing that blood status wasn’t everything and that he was determined to find a match to the spark of magic he’d felt from Beatrice’s grasp, “Now, come with me. Let’s find you the perfect wand, shall we?”

He surmised she might need something to match her obvious eagerness for wielding magic, and he might have had the perfect wand in mind, “Hmmmmm. No, no, no, not you— Ah, yes— yes. Powerful core, ten and a half inches— you might do.” Hovering his hand over the box he knew held a Sycamore wand, he then offered it to Beatrice, “Here, give this one a try.”

Watching her pull out a gold-rimmed wand, he then interjected upon seeing Beatrice only hold onto it awkwardly as she smiled in a way of expecting something to fall into place.

“Go ahead, give it a swish!”

And while the measly spark that followed perturbed Ollivander, he thought this merely a fluke as the Phoenix core the wand held had already spent a while in his shop since it could find its chosen owner.

“Hm, how odd though… Once more. Come on, really swish it.”

By the time the wand flew out of Beatrice’s hand and proceeded to errantly leave sparks of magic in his shop, did he finally relent that this was a Phoenix yet to be tamed by its rightful owner.

“Oh, dear. Well this isn’t a good match at all, is it?” He awkwardly laughed as he gingerly placed the box back in its shelf, assuring Beatrice, “We’ll find you something. Not to worry.” Surmising he needed to look for something directly relating to this mysterious student, he remembered about the dragon attack he’d caught in whispers from the townsfolks regarding a Minister’s supposed death yesterday on a trip to Hogwarts. Although Ollivander had yet to receive an owl from his old friend, Eleazar, to know more about the incident’s details, Professor Weasley had hinted on the rather interesting arrival of this new student in his presence. Surely a perilous journey like that would be enough to last a lifetime, so perhaps…

“Hmm— no, not you… Ah, perhaps— yes— a rare wood. 13 ¾ inches, dragon heartstring.” Mr. Ollivander looked at the box he’d pulled before glancing at the new student in front of him, seemingly deciding it would be a more compatible match than the first, “Let’s give this one a try.”

And although Beatrice now seemed hesitant to pull out the bulkier wand from its box, she still gave a decisive nod towards Ollivander before swishing, “Ah!— Oh! Oh, my— Oh goodness. Looks like it’s back to the shelf for you.” Despite the shop owner’s surprised exclamations, Ollivander noticed that the Fir wand had only flew out Beatrice’s hands with minimal errant sparks of magic. He now at least had the wand’s core right this time.

“Though this is proving to be trickier than I had anticipated. How perplexing.” He’d thought back to how Beatrice had quite the grip during their handshake— someone ready for a duel in the face of danger— he’d deduced, and Ollivander knew of only one wand he had produced with a dragon heartstring, “Where are you? Perhaps you— Ah. There you are.”

He summoned a rather dusty box in the upper shelves, “Yes, I think you might be the one. Here, take it.” While not as fancifully decorated than the previous two, Ollivander highly-prized the Aspen wood for its stylish resemblance to ivory, “What do you think?”

Watching with bated breath as Beatrice held the wand in her hand, she had only just raised it when the tip glowed a blinding white, surrounding the enclosed shop in a gust of warm air that made Ollivander himself gasp in giddy wonder, “Extraordinary. Another wand, another beginning of a bright and magical future!” It also wasn’t every day that he’d get to witness such a curious show of compatibility between a wand and its found owner, “Now, how did that feel?”

“Good— different. I sensed a sort of surge of some kind.” Ollivander noted the unsure tone in Beatrice answer and made to assuage her, “A match. Your connection seemed particularly powerful. The right wand will learn from you just as you learn from it.”

“I’m eager to try it out.”

“I would imagine so. A wand with a dragon heartstring core is capable of dazzling magic. And the bond between you and your wand should only grow stronger. Do not be surprised at your new wand’s ability to perceive your intentions— particularly in a moment of need.”

“That sounds wonderful, Mr. Ollivander. Speaking of which, I think it’s only right I return my second-hand wand back in your care, sir.”

“Oh?” How intriguing, Ollivander had thought as he motioned for Beatrice to place the second-hand wand in the now empty box that previously contained her new wand. Though upon further inspection, he couldn’t help exclaim, “A Yew wand! Proven to be quite the fierce protector of others in its care. Had Professor Fig told you whom its previous owner was?” Ollivander asked off-handedly as he now held the wand closely to study it.

“I’m afraid not, sir. He only told me it was lent from Ollivanders’. I— was hoping you’d know? It has served me well during my introduction to Magic under Professor Fig’s mentorship…”

Curious, indeed. Ollivander now looked towards the young girl, thinking on how to gently break her the news of the original wand owner’s possible fate, “Judging from the Unicorn hair core this wand contains, it came from a time when I was still apprenticing in this very shop under my father. I’m afraid I’d have to further look into it, if you’re keen to know more?”

“Oh. I don’t mean to leave any more work than you already have, sir. I’ll just have to notify Professor Fig that I’ve already returned the wand you’ve lent me.” Ollivander could only watch Beatrice smile with a hint of disappointment at not having her curiosity sated.

“Of course, I’ll let you get to it. Do come and see me again if ever I can be of further assistance.”

He silently watched as the door signaled Beatrice’s exit, disappointment or not, he still had to confirm with Eleazar how in Merlin’s name he came into possession of their dear missing friend’s wand.

“Well, that’s everything. Better go and find Sebastian.” Beatrice thought to herself as she headed towards the town circle, still in a bit of a daze from the ordeal she’d experienced at the infamous wandmaker’s shop. Walking slowly, she palmed her new wand’s rough wooden surface— so unlike her previous one with its smooth wand handle and darker glean— this one gave off an ivory sheen from its crooked sides, evoking a bittersweet remembrance from her before Beatrice frowned at remembering the ancient whispers she seemingly heard upon taking hold of a wand that supposedly chose her as its owner.

She doubted Mr. Ollivander saw the glow that surrounded her for a moment back at the shop, but the steady built of power she was feeling earlier in the day also thankfully dissipated along with the surge of energy she’d felt. Right now, she felt practically weightless.

Spying a flying page that was most likely part of her Field Guide gliding down a discreet set of wooden stairs off the side of the busy streets of Hogsmeade, Beatrice had only just pointed her wand in its direction when it immediately went flying straight back at her! She only had seconds to shield herself with the hardbound as the page slotted itself right in. This only made her stare in disbelief at the wand she held before choosing to gingerly pocket it.

Beatrice was still shaking her head in wonder, sure of the fact she hadn’t even thought of the non-verbal summoning charm yet when her wand took its own initiative… She was still in the process of wrapping her head around what she’d just witnessed when she took note that Sebastian wasn’t anywhere near the town circle he said they’d meet. Though it didn’t take her too long in deciding to wait around, as a delightful collection of sweet scents drafted her way. Enticed, she let her feet lead the way towards a shop called Honeydukes, a quick Revelio confirmed that this establishment was the source of the sweet scents as Beatrice spied the colorful produce displayed. A grin slowly spread on her face as she proceeded inside, after all, it didn’t hurt to purchase something of a more guilty pleasure.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7.1

“I’m afraid I’d have to put your order in my next batch, Sebastian dear.” He couldn’t help but look down in disappointment at Madam Green’s words, to which the elder witch took pity on the boy as she gave him a quick pat on his shoulder, “…But I may have a pot open by the next week. Let’s see to having your Shrivelfig planted then.”

At Sebastian’s growing smile, Madam Green couldn’t help but give out a sigh in remembrance, “It seems only yesterday that your mother would run to my humble shop in need of help with her own plants… Until she met your father that is, the young miss never seemed to have a single green thumb in her bones.”

Sharing a short laugh, Sebastian let a bittersweet smile grace his features at the thought of his mother desperately trying to pass her Herbology subject as a student, though nothing much seemed to have changed even until she became a Professor, it was always their father he saw tending to their garden. It wasn’t until his and Anne’s third year as students did Madam Green recognize them as the children of her notorious client.

“Speaking of which, how is your sister faring?” The Madam’s question caught him off guard, prompting him to answer when—

“Madam! Have you still got any of those Fluxweed Stems growing out back? It’s that time of year when the students need their focus back!”

“Honestly Timothy, if you had the right sense of mind to plant your own before the term began, you wouldn’t be running to me for the purple things!”

“Aye, they seem to bloom faster in this side of your plots, Madam.” The newcomer chuckled before he took notice of the boy in the shop with him, “Well I’ll be, if it ain’t the young Sallow back from Feldcroft already? Do tell what your grumpy, ‘ole uncle’s been up to these days.”

Sebastian felt himself tense, if he hadn’t heard from Solomon of Mr. Teasdale’s past as an Auror, he probably wouldn’t clam up now— though he garnered the older Sallow wasn’t too fond of the Magic Neep proprietor, still—

“Come off it, Timothy. Better get back to your post before you lose any more students in need of your greens.” A thump interrupted their supposed conversation as Madam Green laid out her stock of Fluxweed Stems on the counter.

“Speaking of students, I did have a curious one drop by earlier. Matilda Weasley sent an owl about her being a new fifth-year, in fact. Can’t say it’s safe to have someone new just roaming about the streets these days—”

“Did she happen to mention where she was headed?” That was the only time Sebastian chose to speak up as both the adults now turned their attention towards him.

“Garnered she still had to drop by Ollivanders’ judging from the list she had. Say, do you share classes with her?”

“Some.” He answered tersely, not wanting to be under Teasdale’s scrutiny any longer, “Madam, I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Remember to be back in a month, dear, and you heard Mr. Teasdale, better watch yourself out there.” The elder witch all but chortled, not the least bit taking the other man’s words seriously. Though Sebastian was fast out the door just as the ex-Auror began to regal the Madam of whatever gossip was new about town.

Sebastian thought it best not to divulge too much to people who used to work with his uncle, lest the elder Sallow find another excuse to get him to cease his search for a cure for his sister. For all Mr. Teasdale knew, the Shrivelfig he’d pre-ordered from Madam Green was just part of his school projects as a student.

His weary sigh became lost to the jolly noise surrounding the town’s circle as he neared, combing a hand through his hair when he quickly noticed the absence of his charge’s presence. Surreptitiously glancing at the store behind him, he then thought it won’t hurt to make an actual purchase for his sister to commemorate his first day back in Hogwarts.

A pleasant collection of sweet scents surrounded him as he entered the colorful interior that made up Honeydukes, quickly making his way towards where the Fizzing Whizzbees would be displayed, a personal request from his dear sister, though he couldn’t help frowning at remembering why— “The floaty feeling helps distract me from the pain…”

Grasping at least a dozen of the colorfully wrapped sherbet balls, Sebastian was just about to turn around towards the register when— “Revelio.” He knew of only one person who would be whispering that particular spell out in random places, as there in the inner corners of the sweet shop, stood the object of his growing fascination.

“Mr. Redding, I’d like to purchase some of these Fizzing Whizzbees, please.” Sebastian called out to the older gentleman taking inventory of his shop’s stocks near some shelves where Beatrice stood, to which the proprietor wordlessly levitated the sweets he held into a paper bag, before Mr. Redding subsequently walked away towards the register.

“Sebastian! I officially have all of my supplies.” His focus now centered on Beatrice as she smiled enthusiastically at him, “Did you get what you needed for your sister?” She then asked.

“I did. So, I suppose the world is our oyster now. Let’s hear what you’ve been up to in your first trip to Honeydukes, fancying some of these Bonbons?”

“Doubt I’d relish the idea of chewing on one as they tend to explode, so I’ve read.” She waved her Field Guide in hand before she tucked it in the confines of her robe, giving Sebastian a glimpse of her new wand.

“Surely you’ve at least been tempted to sample some of Mr. Redding’s wares? They’re blatantly put on display for a reason, you know.” He crossed his arms as he smiled cheekily at the girl in front of him.

“I did help myself to a slice of that berry-filled cake on the counter, and while I adore seeing how the Doxy Floss is made, I’d say I’m partial to the Fizzing Whizzbees that makes one float.”

Before Sebastian’s smile could turn into a frown at the mention of a particular sweet he was slowly growing to dislike, his eyes thankfully landed on the display just behind Beatrice that made him slyly smirk, “I take it you haven’t had the chance to try those out, then?”

This made Beatrice’s gaze follow where he nodded at, though she only narrowed her eyes suspiciously back at him as she read the display showcasing Pepper Imps, “Oh come now, I promise it’s completely harmless. Give it a try.” He waggled his brows at her for added effect which elicited a soft giggle from her as she hesitantly reached for a wrapper.

He knowingly took a small step back as Beatrice unwrapped and ate the tiny black ‘sweet’ that was inside, which then resulted in her breathing out fire— truthfully, completely harmless— but Sebastian didn’t account for her coughing fit after though. “I don’t like spicy flavors that much, actually…” She wheezed past her words with a hand over her mouth, as Sebastian noticed her eyes now glistened with unshed tears.

Slowly panicking from his unintended way of pranking her, he was just about to treat Beatrice to a bottle of Pumpkin Fizz, when an entertaining display caught his sight, “Here, let’s try this instead.”

“Sebastian…” She said his name almost in warning.

“I promise, this will make you feel better! Just this once, please…” Ominis once told him how he was absolutely terrible at apologizing, but Sebastian thought he at least made good effort at making up with his actions, and Beatrice was someone he’d somehow want to leave a good impression on, despite not fully comprehending the reason as to why yet…

“Just this once, alright…” She sighed as she suspiciously glanced at the Elephant on a Bicycle that she read on the display, an assortment of what looked like simple animal crackers laid out in a bowl made for free sampling. Though she’d come to wager nothing was ever just simple in the Wizarding community.

“Alright, let’s both take a random biscuit— no peeking— and just eat it. Ladies first, I insist.” Sebastian couldn’t help thinking that Beatrice looked absolutely done with him for the day, just popping the whole cracker into her mouth with a crunch, her eyes widened then as she let out an eagle’s screech, with her arms flapping at her sides before she shook herself out of the temporary enchantment.

He watched as her look of shocked wonder slowly had her pursing her lips, looking ready to scold him when he immediately popped his chosen cracker in his mouth and hoped to Merlin it was one that would make her laugh instead. Though Sebastian wasn’t sure if he’d gotten his desired effect when his ensuing primate noises resulted in awkward silence between them after.

That was until a corner of Beatrice’s mouth quirked before she let out a dainty laugh altogether, her reddened cheeks from consuming the Pepper Imp turning a rosy hue along her outburst, making Sebastian grin as he too joined in her laughter.

Suffice to say, Mr. Redding also quietly found a great deal of entertainment on watching his young customers partake of the free samples he had to offer, it also proved to be a great sales strategy as he now rang up a tin of the enchanted animal crackers the young miss now decided to purchase.

“I’d dare say, you’d definitely make a ton of noise with that lot.” Sebastian nodded towards Beatrice’s held purchase, pulling the door open for her as they exited Honeydukes.

“Hmm… I can think of more than one of my Housemates who’d find these treats entertaining, I suppose.” She smiled to herself as she tucked the item deep inside the enchantment of her robes.

“Aside from your roommates, I’m guessing it’s some of your Housemates you share classes with, like Clopton and Larson?” Sebastian attempted at probing, wanting to observe Beatrice’s reaction at the mention of the blond Ravenclaw, more specifically…

“You’re correct in assuming that Everett would enjoy these, he’s quite the prankster from what I’ve so far witnessed. Though Andrew strikes me as somewhat… cryptic. If I’m to be honest.”

Sebastian found himself relaxing at Beatrice’s offhanded opinion of her particular Housemate, though all thoughts of that were subsequently pushed in the back of mind as he felt something was amiss when the town circle suddenly turned quiet to the sounds of heavy thumping approaching.

He and Beatrice turned around just in time to witness an actual Troll barging its way in the middle of the circle, almost crushing a couple of witches under its club, had they not avoided it by a hair's breadth and proceeded to vehemently strike back with their wands. This only resulted in disorienting the big oaf as it seemed to be looking for something… or someone, as Sebastian alarmingly noticed how the Troll then seemed to zero in on where they stood. Not planning to wait around for it to come any closer, he too casted back at it just as it raised its club in retaliation when—

“Bombarda!”

Sebastian was glad for Officer Singer’s timely arrival as she quickly gave instructions to draw the Troll away from the buildings and village entirely, all the while casting offensively at it to serve as a beacon of distraction before she and a couple of volunteers led the Troll towards them as they all ran off.

Only their ragged breathing could be heard as Sebastian just noticed how Beatrice tensely held her supposed new wand in a grip, before he could ask her about its ivory-like appearance though, another set of ominous thumps could be heard behind them as a second Troll burst past a house! Sebastian noticed with growing dread that this one didn’t waste another second as it charged—

“Beatrice! Look out!”

Andrew’s cryptic words of warning rang through her head as Beatrice did in fact dodge out of the barreling Troll’s way, taking a moment to get her bearings as she sized up the oaf they were up against, though it kept mindlessly charging back at her.

“Confringo!”

There it was again! That same damage spell she’d heard Professor Fig use back in Gringotts and now she was starting to notice how Sebastian proficiently used it as well— she had to learn that spell too, sooner or later. For now, she frustratingly settled on basic casting, “Are we weakening it at all???”

“Keep at it! We’ll wear him down eventually.” Beatrice noted the smugness in Sebastian’s tone as he said that, and while she won’t question his confidence in his defensive abilities, she still worried about the glowing armor that encased the Troll’s being. Someone was most definitely out to get her, but could it be Ranrok alone?

Sebastian was too caught up altering between basic casts and Confringo that he failed to notice how the Troll was getting too close to comfort in his range of attacks when— “Sebastian! Move!” Thankfully, he’d stepped back in time to avoid the full brunt of the swing, but the club’s tip still managed to snatch at his robe’s lapel, quickly dragging him off before he landed with a harsh grunt on the cobbled stones.

He’d just about gathered his bearings when he realized too late that he won’t be able to roll away from the Troll’s raised club about to pulverize him into one bloody mess when Beatrice placed herself in front of him, a perfectly timed Protego making the full force of the swing slide off as she skidded away from the brunt of it, effectively catching the Troll’s focus on her now.

She ducked past a statue just as the Troll charged at her and swung, the tip unfortunately catching the hood of her robe as she lost balance, hands stinging from where it broke her fall on the cobbled stones, she gripped her wand in frustration at the lack of offensive spells she’d yet to learn. If it was the so-called Ancient Magic they were after from her, then she could at least use it to defend herself and her friends!

“Hey! Pea brain!”

In a bout of growing rage, she summoned at a stack of barrels the only way she knew how, but instead of the non-verbal Accio she was still trying to master, the barrel came to her with a force that made her subsequently throw it in the direction of the Troll’s hideous face!

“What was that?!” Sebastian had already been back on his feet, ready to draw the Troll away from Beatrice, when he saw her Summoning move.

“A taste of its own medicine!”

“Nicely done! Keep at it!”

Beatrice felt exhilarated as she summoned a huge stone piece this time to hurl back at the Troll, all the while marveling at the many ways she could hone the Ancient Magic. This made their fight with the lumbering lout easier to handle as whenever the Troll would get too close towards Sebastian’s direction, Beatrice would launch at it with another piece of debris. Though whenever she did, a different sort of energy starting building within her.

“It’s faltering!” She’d exclaimed, now slightly breathless from their ordeal.

“A few more hits should do the job!”

They’d already managed to corner the Troll when Beatrice suddenly felt a surge towards her hands as her wand started glowing with the whispers of Ancient Magic. Quickly concentrating on the full force of it along with the pent-up anger, frustration and shock she’d had to quietly deal with since yesterday’s events, that by the time she expelled her next cast, it left her utterly speechless to watch as the Troll immediately disintegrated into nothing but ash.

“Goodness! A second troll? Did you two take on a fully-grown Troll— by yourselves?”

Beatrice only realized she’d been staring almost in a catatonic state where the Troll supposedly was just a few moments ago, had someone not gently touched her shoulder, “I suppose so. It’s… all a bit of a blur, to be honest.”

“Merlin’s beard. Are you all right?” It was only then did she focus on the female Officer in front of her after she also took notice that it was Sebastian who had a hold on her as if she might faint at any moment.

“We are.” Beatrice quietly answered, though she looked towards Sebastian to truly check if he was unharmed himself, to which the boy only smiled back at her as he continued answering for them, “And we were glad to help.”

“I’d say ‘help’ is a bit of an understatement. Nerve like that? The makings of an Auror, if you ask me.” The Officer proudly told them, but Beatrice almost felt Sebastian’s hold on her tense as she surreptitiously glanced at the slowly growing frown on his face. “If you are unharmed, perhaps the two of you wouldn’t mind helping me put a few things back to where they were.”

“Of course, Officer.” She quickly acquiesced, now wanting to speak to Sebastian alone.

“Singer. Officer Singer. And thank you. Again.” It was only when Officer Singer had apparated away did she hear Sebastian sigh, careful to let go of her arm as he quickly got started with casting Reparo on the nearest house that was left in a wreck.

“Sebastian, wait.” She got to work assisting him with the repairs— part of her wanting to eagerly test out the new spell Professor Ronen had taught her earlier— but mostly, she also wanted to ask the boy how exactly her casting Ancient Magic looked like to him, “You aren’t going to ask how I did it— that?”

“Between the two of us, I’d thought you would personally know. You do still remember disintegrating that Troll, right?” Sebastian asked incredulously as he focused on repairing a statue next.

“I do remember that. It’s how I did it that I don’t quite know…”

“Sounds like a conundrum we’re both left without answers then.” He replied jokingly as they made quick work of the town circle’s repairs, only after they were done did Beatrice manage to get a good look at him again, “Oh my goodness, Sebastian!”

“What?” It was only then did he feel something warm trickle down the right side of his temple.

“You’re bleeding! It could be a serious head injury!” She said almost in a panic as she neared him with her wand drawn.

“Doubtful of that. I’ve been told to have quite the hard head.” His chuckle was short lived as Beatrice came close, her hand gently cradling his face.

“We still can’t risk it, don’t move. Episkey.” Sebastian couldn’t help wince at the quick stitch he’d felt, only opening his eyes fully after Beatrice followed casting Tergeo to wipe off the blood on his face. “There, I’ve managed to seal back all the exclusive knowledge you still have yet to share with me at this point.” She smiled cheekily up at him, to which he didn’t miss a beat in asking, “Do I at least now look presentable to you, my fair lady?”

Now if only Sebastian hadn’t asked that particular question out of the blue, would she catch herself studying the charming array of freckles that adorned his face, nor would she be close enough to realize that his warm, brown eyes actually had flecks of gold in them, and with the adrenalin from their fight slowly draining away from her body, she’d also finally notice how close she was to the boy in front of her—

“Hello there! A moment if you would?”

The sudden greeting towards them made Beatrice instantly remove her hand from where it was touching Sebastian’s face, stepping back as if she was caught doing something she shouldn’t as she said in a rush, “We should go and see what he wants.”

Following after the older gentleman that led the way inside a store called Gladrags Wizardwear, Beatrice failed to notice the silly grin she left on her companion’s face.

Sebastian couldn’t completely wipe off the smile on his face as he glanced at Beatrice’s reflection from the mirror he stood in front of, fitting the new school robe Mr. Hill generously awarded them for their show of ‘remarkable bravery’ against the Troll attack earlier.

Though truthfully, they both won’t have survived the ordeal had it not been from what Beatrice surprisingly demonstrated, the same hair-raising sensation he’d felt during their stroll on the way here suddenly became present moments before she had disintegrated the Troll. He believed she was being truthful about not fully grasping whatever Magic she possessed, though he was sure she still had several secrets she was understandably hesitant to divulge.

Choosing now to save Beatrice from Mr. Hill’s endless tirade of his wares and fashion in general, he took a moment to fully appreciate the close study they’d had of each other just moments before. It was suffice to say that he garnered enough to amuse Ominis the next time he asked after their new classmate, but she was definitely more than a pretty face for him now that they’ve shared such a dangerous experience together.

“I’d say we’ve earned a Butterbeer or two, wouldn’t you? Might help me forget that I was almost pulverized by a Troll.” He knowingly smiled at Beatrice as he asked.

“I’d say that I agree with you.” Her smile was almost shy as a pink dusting graced her cheeks.

“Perfect! The Three Broomsticks is just this way.” Sebastian led the way out as Mr. Hill still managed to market the ‘battle-worthy’ items he had for sale should they be inclined to peruse his shop in the future, though Sebastian had now found amusement with how Beatrice was back to her antics of casting Revelio just before following him out.

Taking note of how the town circle still remained somewhat quiet, Sebastian couldn’t help but exclaim as they rounded the corner, “Assuming it isn’t utter bedlam in there, you might even meet Sirona, the owner. She’s a good one to know.”

He just about turned to focus on Beatrice when she bumped right into him, noticing how tense she was as he followed where her eyes were currently trained on, spotting the tip of a top hat making its way down a discreet set of wooden stairs off the side of the main road.

Not liking where this was going, he’d only met Beatrice’s gaze again before she silently dragged him towards a corner near the top of the stairs as they tried to listen in on what looked like a secret meeting with who he dreaded to be Rookwood and a blasted goblin. Consequently, he tried not to think about how he and Beatrice were closely pressed together against a wall.

“—if you cannot get to the child, then you have no value to me.” The goblin’s gravelly voice subconsciously sent chills down his spine as Sebastian inadvertently caught sight of its red eyes—

“Let’s go.” He then felt Beatrice quickly pull him away from the scene as they urgently rushed down the main road, “Did they see us?” He asked in a hush that made Beatrice glance behind them, sighing in relief as she let go of him, “I don’t think so.”

And while Sebastian preferred she stay close to him until they reach a safer destination, he couldn’t help voicing out the one question that seemed to bother him, “What was that goblin doing with Victor Rookwood?”

“Ranrok is working with Rookwood?” He heard Beatrice ask in disbelief before he took note of the other name she had muttered, “The goblin from the Daily Prophet? I knew I’d seen him somewhere!”

Their shared epiphany about the situation was short lived however as Sebastian spotted Rookwood with his crony emerge from the stairs, evidently looking for someone, “Quickly. Let’s get inside the Three Broomsticks.” And this time, he was the one to pull Beatrice close as they rushed to safety.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7.3

“I’ve now bought my freedom from you, now leave me and my family alone!” The man hissed through his teeth, clearly not afraid to show his annoyance.

“Come now, no need for such hostilities. One would think you’ve forgotten your place, dear little brother.” The other man balked at being referred to as such, while Victor still continued in mock light heartedness, “I am grateful to have you covering my name for me at the Ministry, seeing as they still hold our family name in such high regard. Tell me, might they also be singing you praises for your good work with providing the Muggles with— shall I say, ‘medical’ substances?”

He couldn’t help to chuckle lowly at seeing the other’s face pale, realization finally settling in at what Victor still had over him— he couldn’t fault the younger man for trying though, there was good business in feeding the Muggle populace’s addiction to any form of hallucinogen after all. Pain, it seems, was always used as an excuse to escape. What cowards, though profitable cowards.

“No matter.” He slapped on the table as he rose to stand, causing his companion to jerk in his seat from the seemingly broken tension.

“Give my regards to your wife, my sources tell me she’s not quite far along.” Victor twirled his hat in his hands before putting it on, “Bravo on taking the initiative to propagate our family, dear brother.” He grinned at the venomous glare afforded his way, preparing to Apparate away just as the younger chose to speak up, “I must warn you, Victor, there’s a reason why our father only wanted to take things small. At the rate you’re going, this may all just blow up in your face and when that time comes, I will not hesitate to wash my hands of your misdeeds.”

The resulting silence was short but palpable as Victor’s next words cut through like a knife, “Then pray that never happens, because if it does? I also will not hesitate to bring you down with me.” He had said in an even tone, complete with a smile that he knew would stand as more of a threat. Frustratingly similar to their old man, his younger brother was weak and only proved useful for his contacts within the Ministry, he wasn’t cut out to know anything about the powerful stores of magic that Victor was tracking.

But he now felt absolutely livid at being theatrically shammed the second time around on making progress in his search for more of this power, though he tried not to show it as he approached the infernal goblin who dared offer a partnership with him in the first place.

“You said you could get to the child when they came to Hogsmeade. That all you needed was a distraction. I gave you a distraction!”

“I just watched a student take down your ‘distraction’.” Victor countered, narrowing his eyes at the goblin’s growing frown. He’d first thought this student would be used as leverage against the Hogwarts professor who now held the Portkey he’d tracked to George Osric, but now he felt that he wasn’t being given the whole picture after witnessing that brilliant display of power… “Who is this child? What are you not telling me?”

“All you need to know is that if you cannot get to the child, then you have no value to me.”

“Let’s go.” It was faint but Victor knew someone had been listening in on his conversation when the goblin had also raised its eyes towards the top of the stairs, he made to glance behind him to see who it was but caught no one in sight, “Come Theophilus, it seems we have a lamb to catch.”

“Remember, I want that child alive.”

He resisted the urge to chuckle at the goblin’s arrogant tone, of course he’d want his own set of questions answered first before he would think about handling over the child, and it didn’t take long for him to surmise where his notorious eavesdropper was headed to as he caught the tail ends of a couple of school robes hurriedly turning the corner towards the Three Broomsticks.

Sebastian still held Beatrice close as they rushed inside the Three Broomsticks, though they chose to remain inconspicuous as he ran a hand through his hair, noticing that his companion now gravitated near the counter where they both took a seat.

“Now, what can I— Oh, there’s a face I haven’t seen before.” Sirona greeted, catching the girl’s wandering attention, “It’s my first time here.” Sebastian caught Beatrice’s nervous glance despite her smile.

“Welcome! Butterbeers on me.” He grinned at the prospect of free drinks, but quickly sobered at seeing Beatrice’s now downcast look at Sirona’s mention of the Troll attack, “Glad to see you two escape injury.”

“Thanks to this one. Single-handedly took down a Troll!” Sebastian raised the freshly served tankard of Butterbeer towards Beatrice, wanting to at least cheer her up after the ordeal they faced earlier, and it seemed to work as she mockingly kicked at his shin to quiet him down, a small smile now gracing her features.

“Is that right? Well done.” Though Sirona didn’t seem to take Sebastian’s words to heart as she amusedly glanced between the young couple in front of her.

“Thank you for this.” Beatrice said before she took a sip out of tankard, Sebastian watching over the rim of his own, seeing her face light up in delight at her first taste of Butterbeer. He had to resist the urge to wipe off the traces of foam that clung on the tip of her nose and upper lip as Beatrice lowered her tankard to wondrously stare at its contents, before grinning up at him as she shyly wiped at her face. For now, Sirona’s talks of something amiss and brutes in town flew over their heads as they took this moment in between themselves, just before the double doors swung open—

“Hmph. How timely.”

Sebastian craned his neck towards the entryway, quickly catching Beatrice by her arm before she could fully turn in her seat to glance back at the ensuing confrontation Sirona was handling, though it seemed she already saw who it was judging from the tense look on her face.

He was having none of that though as he gently removed his hold on her, slowly motioning for them to keep their heads down as he reached for his Butterbeer, offering Beatrice a comforting smile as a way to calm her when—

“Come now. No need for theatrics. I’m only here for this one, anyway.”

The change in her look was instant— a sharpness that overtook Beatrice’s features as she turned to stand, but Sebastian had already stood by her side before he could think much about it.

“My friend is enjoying a well-earned Butterbeer.” Sirona strongly said to Rookwood as a means to deescalate the rising tension.

“I only want a quick word.”

Beatrice quickly brandished her wand before Rookwood could even think about taking another step towards her, making Sebastian hold out his own wand as several of the pub’s patrons also rose to their defense.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said my friend is busy.” It wasn’t only Sirona’s words that made Rookwood take a step back this time and Sebastian now recognized his right-hand man, Theophilus Harlow, immediately take to the defense of his boss. The crony may have already taken out his wand but Sebastian also had a Hex ready to cast at the tip of his tongue, if any of the two tried anything funny.

“One would think you’d all had enough bloodshed for one day.”

Rookwood took a quick glance at the crowd before settling his gaze on Beatrice, staring at her long enough that Sebastian almost pulled her behind him, had he not felt the tell-tale hair-raising sensation coming off the girl. He didn’t doubt she’d hesitate to smite the gang leader if all hell broke loose here right now.

“Come, Theophilus. The Three Broomsticks isn’t what it used to be. Let’s take our Galleons elsewhere.” Despite what Rookwood said, Sebastian still felt tense at how Beatrice was surely being profiled by the notorious Wizard, “Can’t drink Butterbeer forever.” Rookwood mockingly said before turning around to finally exit the pub with Harlow following after him.

It wasn’t until Sirona made sure that the two brutes completely left, did Sebastian lower his guard as he heard Beatrice’s soft sigh of relief, “Seems you’ve made an unfortunate enemy.” Sirona said, walking back towards them, “Watch your back. Rookwood and Harlow are worse than any Troll you might encounter.”

Sebastian took a moment to grasp the events of his first afternoon back in Hogwarts, and here was Beatrice, an obvious troubled look on her face at being understandably new to the Wizarding community and yet— “Trolls, Ranrok, and Rookwood? What are you not telling me?”

Sebastian couldn’t now help but ask as Beatrice turned towards him with an unreadable look on her face, “I promise to tell you everything, but…” A shaky breath broke through her façade as she momentarily closed her eyes, only opening them to now look at him almost pleadingly, “It’s perhaps best I do that later.” She’d whispered that last part in answer, making Sebastian fold as he just let out a breath in contained frustration.

“And on that note, I think we should head back to the castle.” He was about to lead the way out when a voice intercepted them—

“And just where do you think you’re both going?” They both turned back to watch Sirona, holding two plates filled with a steaming pile of food, while looking at them as if they’ve each sported three heads, “You both can’t be thinking of going out there right after what Victor just said, did you? Sit here and eat.”

It wasn’t after Sirona said that did Sebastian feel his stomach grumble, he didn’t have much from lunch due to him wanting to sneak back into the Library earlier, so now he had to embarrassingly glance at Beatrice to see if she’d heard his ravenous lapse on display, to which she’d only held a hand to her mouth, a well-placed cough suspiciously covering a hint of laughter before she followed after Sirona with an amused smile gracing her lips instead. Sebastian almost wished a Troll would pulverize him into the very ground right that instance.

“Knowing Victor, he’s an opportunist, but he’s busy enough not to stand around just to abduct a couple of students. You’ll have to wait him out, for now.” Sirona advised, placing another round of Butterbeers beside their plates. They now sat in a more conspicuous corner of the pub, when Sebastian made to pay, Sirona had stopped him yet again saying, “On the house. It’s worst to have my clientele of students be scared off by some brutes, that’s what the Hog’s Head is for.”

“I’m certainly glad Sirona’s here. Told you she was one of the good ones.” Sebastian remarked as the barkeep tended to her other customers.

“I can see that. She didn’t seem at all intimidated by Rookwood and Harlow.” Beatrice agreed before they both turned their attention to their plates of food. Sebastian was already eagerly digging into his plate of Haggis when he noticed his charge was just daintily taking bites out of her own plate of steak pie.

“Not up to your taste?” He’d known the pub’s usual specialties were a far cry from what was mainly served during their meals in the Great Hall, but quickly realized this may all still be part of the new experience for Beatrice.

“It’s delicious, don’t get me wrong, it’s just that… I’m feeling a bit queasy, is all.” She sighed, choosing to pick on the mini roasted potatoes on her plate instead.

“I hope you’re not getting ill?” Sebastian peered at her, much too aware of looking for signs of faint as he was used to with Anne.

“It’s really just nerves, I suppose…”  Beatrice almost whispered to herself, leaning her head on a hand as she continued to finish her food in a diligent manner.

Now Sebastian was having none of that. If there was one other thing he took pride in, it was his ability to make small talk even in the most tense of situations, although Ominis hated him for it on some days.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” He started slowly between bites, watching to see Beatrice look at him with a somewhat guarded expression, even though he was only planning to take her mind away from this afternoon’s troubling turn of events.

“Your wand. I can’t help but notice it has this unusual sheen to it… What’s it made of?”

“Oh, this crooked thing?” She’d asked, a fond smile on her face as she gently laid her wand on the middle of the table for Sebastian to see amidst the pub’s dim lighting, “I saw ‘Aspen’ labelled on the inside of the box and Mr. Ollivander saying something about its dragon heartstring core, why do you ask?”

“Thought I remembered Lucan going on about some infamous and secretive club surrounding Aspen wands…” Sebastian rubbed his chin in contemplation, his memory seeming to fail him for the moment.

“Like how exclusive and unsanctioned Crossed Wands is?” Beatrice teased behind the rim of her Butterbeer, clearly finding amusement in seeing him flounder.

“Close. But not quite.” He narrowed his eyes at her with a smile of his own, completely banishing his train of thought as he laid his wand next to hers, “One thing I’m most certain though is that I’ve found a kindred spirit, what with our similar wand cores— quick learners we’re considered.”

“And temperamental too— or so I’ve read.” Beatrice supplied offhandedly as Sebastian silently observed her otherwise intrigued expression while she gingerly traced a finger along his wand’s handle, “Where did you have this made?” The question quickly fell from her lips.

“I asked Ollivander what would best suit my Hawthorn wand before he imitated that particular design.”

“Imitated?” Beatrice’s interest was now focused on him as Sebastian just realized that— “You haven’t heard about the ridiculous legend of the wand handles scattered across the Highlands and even in our prestigious school, have you?” He’d asked, almost incredulous.

“If all legends were considered ridiculous, I’d have sooner found the idea of a wizarding school that teaches magic to be incredibly fantastical, so at least tell me what you know about this please?”

Sebastian huffed, partly glad he’d succeeded in somehow easing Beatrice’s mind off the afternoon’s turn of events, still— “It’s more just for cosmetic glory, really. Who would even spend the time to search for all 42 of these handles? They’d probably just end up being an eccentric collector of some possible heirlooms that have been surely lost to time.” He finished saying, pocketing his wand, as he noticed a thoughtful look had overtaken his companion’s demeanor before Sebastian glanced down at his pocket watch.

“Speaking of, I think we’ve spent enough time here as it may, wouldn’t you?” At Beatrice’s nod in agreement, Sebastian quietly left a couple Galleons for Sirona to find on their table before they’d exited the Three Broomsticks. The sun had already set, leaving only several street lamps lit outside to guide them as Sebastian quickly steered Beatrice to the nearest Floo Flame, South of Hogsmeade.

“Where are you two headed? No, don’t tell me. I shall see you there.” Said Ignatia Wildsmith’s cheery voice before the pair were transported right back in Hogwarts, just by the Grand Staircase.

“Professor Weasley’s certain to hear about the Troll attack soon if she hasn’t already. Didn’t want to risk another detention from getting back after hours.” Sebastian’s explanation slowly came to a stop as he now took note of Beatrice’s fixed gaze upon him.

“I was hoping you’d consider heading to the Hospital Wing before retiring for the night? Just to be certain an actual medic properly tends to your head injury from earlier…” Beatrice’s eyes slowly glided over his face in concern, making Sebastian hope he wasn’t caught blushing under her seemingly intense scrutiny.

“Nothing a good night’s rest wouldn’t fix. The thing you should concerned yourself with was our plans on supposedly spending Study period together, remember?” Sebastian couldn’t help but grin at seeing Beatrice gape at him, her mouth caught on an inaudible “Oh!” before pursing her lips as she tried to think of an immediate solution to their otherwise jilted evening.

“Would it trouble you to make time for it tomorrow after classes, perhaps?” He suggested in edgewise, finally taking pity on the girl’s internal struggle.

Letting out a sigh, but smiling back at him all the same, Beatrice acquiesced, “Alright, I think I owe you that much at the very least.”

“And I think you’ll need to tell me why Victor Rookwood has you in his sights, at some point. But we can talk about that on another time. For the moment, I should bid you good night.”

Sebastian momentarily saw the conflicted look that marred Beatrice’s face before she turned to take the stairs up to her House’s “ivory tower”. He didn’t deem it necessary to push her for answers at the moment, not when he had a nagging feeling someone was listening in on them, though he couldn’t be sure if it was one of the living student body as the halls were now mostly silent when he made the descent back to his Common Room.

Aside from Professor Weasley, the one other person Sebastian didn’t relish having to find out about the afternoon’s events was Ominis— as impossible as it is to keep anything from the gifted Legilimens— Sebastian would rather not give his oldest friend an immediate reason to owl Anne about any grievances that involved her twin brother.

Fortunately, his shared dorm room with Ominis already had its lights dimmed, signaling that maybe his friend had already turned in early for the night. Maybe if Sebastian woke up earlier by the morning, he could also delay the inevitable interrogation that was sure to come.

Busy ruminating this as he got himself ready for bed, it was too late for Sebastian to notice the ominous glow that silently approached him in the dark until it was almost shoved into his face, followed by a deathly serious tone.

“Sebastian. What is this I’ve heard about Rookwood setting his sights on the new fifth year?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7.5

Ominis Gaunt may have been blind, but he was not entirely sightless as his peers would have thought of him.

After all, if one of them would have at least listened in during their early years in History of Magic, it wasn’t exactly a secret that Salazar Slytherin was born a gifted Legilimens. Although what the books may have failed to note was that it was an ability that could be passed down to his descendants, which Ominis used to his full advantage.

Having the sentience of his Hornbeam wand was one thing as it helped map out shapes and corners he’d rather not make a fool of himself bumping into, but Ominis still almost always found himself coming back to the vibrancy that the human mind afforded, and this was also how he familiarized himself with the concept of colors.

Though be it as it may, growing up with a childhood like his had taught Ominis to be careful in reading just about anyone’s mind, especially those of his family. However, that didn’t stop the young Gaunt from his own curiosity in wanting to find out more about his peers the moment he started his education at Hogwarts.

Free from his stifling upbringing, Ominis mostly contented himself with Anne’s enthusiastic retelling of events the moment he’d confided with the Sallow twins of his innate ability back in their first years—her mind had always been a vibrant stage of imagination and life, even though Ominis mildly questioned Anne’s exaggerated descriptions on some thing or the other, he best preferred it compared to how she was now after the curse.

And despite Sebastian willing to step in for the absence of his sister, Ominis always found the Sallow boy’s mind to be a chaotic array of thoughts— informative, yes— but Sebastian’s mind was a library of various topics that only he knew where to find, and the moment he’d sense the constant headaches that came off Sebastian, Ominis tried to keep himself from relying on his friend altogether. He was in a place with no shortage of thoughts, after all.

As long as Ominis kept himself from curiously wanting to breach any of his professors’ minds or prodding too far into the vast thoughts of the student populace, he’d found himself managing to stay afloat in his daily studies and wanderings inside the castle. It was during these instances that the young Gaunt observed how each individual’s mind was set up— from Garreth’s thoughts listed down like a potion recipe just waiting to be brewed, to Amit’s constant droll of dates, constellations and pending assignments— Ominis came to the conclusion that these were each person’s form of retreat, so what made their new fifth year classmate any different?

For all his curiosity, Ominis of course didn’t miss out on the chance to try to find out more about this newcomer, although what he’d fail to disclose to Sebastian up till now was how he was frustratingly met with silence every time he tried to glean into the new Ravenclaw’s mind. He was well aware of her thoughts being there though, just nicely secured inside a quaint looking home by what looked like a cliffside. Ominis would then just find himself sitting at the porch that made up this house in her mind as he dejectedly spied the lock on the door leading in, the only sounds that flowed into his mind were the gentle lapping of waves over the cliff.

Ironically, these were the very sounds that lulled him into a restful nap in remembrance, having challenged himself to stay awake during his first class in attendance with Professor Binns, sleep had then found its way to Ominis during his free time after. He’d chosen a discreet spot by the side of the stairwell in the Bell Tower entryway, when he’d been jolted into wakefulness at the panicked huffs that came barging in through the double doors.

He chose to remain silent as he heard the scared whispers about a Troll being in Hogsmeade, their voices trailing off towards the North Hall. Although incensed at his rude awakening, Ominis took this as a sign to continue on with the remainder of his day, thinking of dropping by Sebastian’s class to ask if the boy had gotten a head start on their Charms assignment already.

To Ominis’ surprise however, Professor Weasley was said to have dismissed her class earlier than usual and that none of Sebastian’s classmates had even seen him in attendance that afternoon.

With the halls now filled with whispers of the supposed Troll attack in Hogsmeade, and the portraits gossiping over how Ferdinand Pratt spotted the notorious gang leader, Victor Rookwood, at The Three Broomsticks, Ominis tried to brush off the slow, uneasy feeling rising in the back of his mind.

The Undercroft provided a moment’s reprieve against the surmounting thoughts that started to plague the young Gaunt, giving him enough time to gather his bearings until dinner time came around that evening when Ominis’ suspicions were brought to light.

“You saw Beatrice heading to Hogsmeade this afternoon??”

Ominis noted a girl’s hushed question sounded heavy with worry as he passed by the Ravenclaw table to find a seat for himself, before he stopped in his tracks at what he heard next.

“Yes, and she was being accompanied by Sallow earlier too.”

The young Gaunt then knew that the empty pit he felt in his stomach wasn’t just due to wanting to sate whatever hunger he was initially feeling, in fact, food was the last thing on his mind as he slowly turned towards the voice who had mentioned his friend. His wand projecting an outline of a boy just about to get seated, but it was the glimpse of memory he’d gleaned that confirmed the speaker’s identity— seeing from the other boy’s eyes the back of a brunette girl following after Sebastian pass the bridge, along the Forbidden Forest. That was the last time anyone’s seen of him.

“Larson.”

The Ravenclaw he’d called after remained standing, turning towards Ominis who had stepped closer towards their table as he quickly did a mental sweep, taking note that the curious stillness he’d come to identify with their new classmate was absent from the group of seated Fledglings, “She hasn’t come back yet?” Ominis asked aloud before he could stop himself.

“Beatrice hasn’t.” Larson answered slowly, not sure where Ominis was going with his line of questioning before realization seeped into the boy’s tone as he asked in turn, “And Sebastian hasn’t as well, has he?”

A stifled gasp was heard across the table where Larson stood, “We should ask the professors for help.” Ominis’ wand indicated a girl turning to the other beside her, identifying them as Samantha Dale and Constance Dagworth from the mental image he’d seen from their dorm’s plaque— roommates of the new student.

“I’m sure the professors would have already notified each of us if they were caught in a worrisome situation. All we can do now is wait.” Ominis said in an even tone, not wanting to give the other Ravenclaw cause to exaggerate the current predicament. Anything to keep anyone from the faculty to send an owl to Feldcroft, to keep Anne from worrying too much, and most importantly, to keep Solomon from finding any further fault towards Sebastian.

And wait he had, dinner went on to be a tasteless affair as Ominis caught himself from spying on any of the professors at their table on the podium, he gathered that Professor Weasley left her seat earlier though, and he tried not to think about the gravity that the Troll attack in Hogsmeade had caused when even the new student’s guardian, Professor Fig hadn’t come for dinner.

In the end, Ominis gleaned through enough thoughts in the Great Hall to conclude that it was Professor Weasley who had assigned Sebastian to accompany the new fifth-year, though it was still beyond Ominis as to why, however. Still, he was already planning on how to ask the Deputy Headmistress in a roundabout way concerning the whereabouts of his friend, when he heard the telltale whoosh of flames from a nearby Floo Flame just as he was passing by the Hogwarts’ Architect statue.

“Professor Weasley’s certain to hear about the Troll attack soon if she hasn’t already. Didn’t want to risk another detention from getting back after hours.”

At distantly hearing Sebastian’s voice, Ominis couldn’t help feeling the weight of worry lift from his shoulders, although a frown instantly marred his features upon hearing what their new classmate had to say next, “I was hoping you’d consider heading to the Hospital Wing before retiring for the night? Just to be certain an actual medic properly tends to your head injury from earlier…”

“Nothing a good night’s rest wouldn’t fix. The thing you should concerned yourself with was our plans on supposedly spending Study period together, remember?”

Ominis had to keep himself from snickering at Sebastian’s too obvious attempt at wanting to spend more time with the new student, only shaking his head at the girl’s almost tired reply, “Alright, I think I owe you that much at the very least.”

“And I think you’ll need to tell me why Victor Rookwood has you in his sights, at some point.” Ominis then tensed at the mention of the dark Wizard’s name, furrowing his brows at the thought that they’ve directly come across the infamous crime lord, “But we can talk about that on another time. For the moment, I should bid you good night.”

Choosing to stalk back to the Great Hall Floo Flames, it didn’t take long for Ominis to quietly mull over what he’d heard Sebastian last say in the privacy of their dorm, this was an interrogation he’d rather keep behind closed doors after all. So he patiently waited, silently tracking Sebastian’s steps as the boy finally entered their shared room, before deciding to approach as his wand traced his friend’s form against the dark.

“Sebastian. What is this I’ve heard about Rookwood setting his sights on the new fifth year?”

Ominis truly only meant to catch Sebastian off guard, so was surprised when the boy let out a “Gah!” in exclamation before stumbling back over his own pajama bottoms with an ensuing ‘thud!’ that projected an image into Ominis’ mind— a petite face framed with wavy brown locks against vibrant eyes of green that darkened as she looked up at him in concern, her hand was raised to touch his face when—

“For Salazar’s sake, Ominis! What did I tell you about sneaking up on me like that??!” Sebastian grunted from wherever he fell against, making the riveting image disappear from Ominis’ mind.

“Judging from your rather lively reactions, I’d say there was no reason for me to worry after all, but you and I both know anything involving Rookwood spells trouble, Sebastian.”

“Merely a case of mistaken identity amidst the Troll attack, is all. Relax, Sirona had us covered.”

It was obvious there was more to the afternoon’s events than what Sebastian was willing to tell as Ominis tried further probing, “And what of the Troll?”

“Singer handled the first one and well the second—”

“Wait— the second?? There were two Trolls in Hogsmeade this afternoon???” The young Gaunt had asked in disbelief, never having heard of such an incident with Trolls, especially two, barging into the quaint Wizarding village.

“Yes, Ominis, try to keep up. As I was saying, we handled the second Troll.”

“You? You and the new fifth year?? How?”

“As it turns out, it didn’t seem like only sheer, dumb luck that gave Beatrice the upper hand against me during our mock duel in Hecat’s class this morning.” Sebastian’s almost fond musing had Ominis narrowing his eyes before he let out a huff in exasperation.

“Sebastian. I know Anne would get ecstatic at the idea that you’re curious about this new student but, Beatrice seems—”

“Ominis.” At Sebastian’s suddenly quiet tone, the young Gaunt chose to hear his friend out first, “You wouldn’t be writing to Anne about today, would you?”

At this question, Ominis closed his eyes before turning back to walk towards his own bed’s direction as he slowly answered, “Between the two of us, you were the one who promised not to give your sister too much grief, didn’t you?” He smiled to himself hearing the other boy grumble something undecipherable before hearing a bottle being uncorked from Sebastian’s direction as the unmistakable scent of Dittany wafted in their room.

“I take it from your attire, you’ll be skipping our first class in Astronomy tonight?” Ominis asked in passing as he secured the exclusive star charts made for him in his robes’ pocket.

“Weasley did say something about excusing me from the remainder of my classes…” Sebastian now groggily said, clearly close to falling asleep despite Ominis still hearing rustling coming from his side of the room.

Choosing to leave his friend to rest, Ominis instinctively raised a hand in front of his face as he heard Sebastian mentally call out his name, efficiently catching a small package, the engraved symbol on the front that Ominis felt was enough indication on what it was.

“What is this, a bribe?” He asked with a hint of a laugh, still pocketing the pack of Peppermint Toads.

“Appreciation, actually…” He’d heard Sebastian’s soft reply from his bed, only broken by a yawn as Ominis stood long enough by their door, ensuring Sebastian had already drifted off when he silently closed the door behind him.

The echo of his footsteps against the steel flooring seemed loud amidst the last two images Ominis had managed to glean from Sebastian’s mind as he fell asleep— it couldn’t be a case of mistaken identity when Rookwood was adamant to stand his ground against a faceoff in The Three Broomsticks, and the reason for setting his sights on the new fifth year was… The flash of magic before the Troll disintegrated into dust was blinding for Ominis, basing from what he glimpsed off Sebastian’s memories, and Beatrice seemed… to be quite the magnet for trouble.

Taking in a steadying breath as Ominis stepped into the Slytherin Common Room, he let the sound of being under the Black Lake envelop his senses as he closed his eyes, all the while trying not to picture the piercing pair of verdant eyes that looked back at him in his mind’s eye.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7.7

“I’ve called you all here today to discuss the recent Troll attack that worryingly took place just in Hogsmeade this afternoon.”

Under the candlelit lighting of the staffroom, Matilda evenly gazed at the other three Heads of House who sat upon the mismatched chairs situated around the long table, each of the professors held varying looks of concern on their faces.

“I cannot imagine having been in Hogsmeade during that Troll attack. Thank goodness so many skilled witches and wizards reacted so quickly.” Abraham said mostly to himself as the Charms professor rubbed his chin in consternation.

“That Troll attack is precisely why we need Defensive magic.” Dinah supplied in a firmer tone, Matilda was well-aware that the DADA professor had been secretively encouraging a duelling club for the students’ benefit, despite what Black had to say against unsanctioned extracurricular activities.

“There is something very odd about that Troll attack in Hogsmeade however…” It was Bai Howin who voiced out the very dilemma that plagued the forefront their minds, the Beasts class professor then let out a sigh, continuing slowly as if she was picking the next words she was about to say, “The proprietress of Brood and Peck, Ms. Ellie, has been informing me over the summer about the rise of poachers— not just in the Highlands, but also the surrounding vicinity— I don’t think it’s wise that we overlook this matter any further, Professor Weasley.”

“I must agree with Professor Howin on this, Matilda. We’ve already seen the decline in the students’ populace this year, with their parents worried over talks of a rebellion and ransacking in nearby hamlets, this is a matter that cannot be left to fester.” Abraham couldn’t help but worriedly chime in.

“While I do understand your concerns as esteemed members of our community, our first and foremost duties as Professors are the safety and security of our students and Hogwarts itself. Any matters outside of that scope will surely be handled by the Ministry.” And as much as Matilda almost huffed at what she last said, she instead glanced at each Head of House with a firm façade, watching as Dinah only shook her head in quiet disagreement.

“As such, I’ve devised this Memorandum which you must discuss with your respective Head Boys and Girls so they would be able to disseminate it with their House Prefects.” Matilda continued as she passed along the sheets of paper to her colleagues, “Simply put, Curfew will remain at 22:00 but students are now to be expected NOT to wander out of the castle grounds pass sundown. Lastly, any weekend trips outside of Hogwarts are to be taken note of their House Prefects, and it is to be wisely advised that students go out in groups or pairs unless absolutely necessary.”

“On the topic of going out in pairs, Matilda, I think it’s in your best interest to know that the Grey Lady has informed me of Ms. Hayes’ rather late but safe return to the Common Room, causing quite the buzz amongst her Housemates. Didn’t you mention having someone accompany her to Hogsmeade this afternoon?”

“In fact I did, Dinah, though on that note I’d appreciate to have someone look in on how Mr. Sallow fared after safely escorting Ms. Hayes this afternoon, would you mind delegating that task to someone, Abraham?” She worried, feeling partly responsible for having put the young wizard through such an ordeal.

“Of course, Matilda, though I must say it was a wise choice on Ms. Hayes’ part to have requested Mr. Sallow’s company today, especially during that inexplicably dreadful Troll attack.”

“As much as Mr. Sallow shines in my class, if the rumors I’ve heard around the halls this afternoon have any bearing, then I think it’d be wiser that Ms. Hayes quickly learns to hone her newfound Magic instead.” Dinah had sternly pointed out, although mostly unconvinced by mere rumors alone.

“Put down a Troll all by herself, despite just starting at Hogwarts? Helga’s heart. Wherever did the Ministry find this child, Professor Weasley?” Bai Howin asked with the same curiosity that most of the faculty had over their new student.

Matilda almost wearily sighed at this, neatly folding her hands on the desk in front of her as she recounted what Eleazar had first told her those couple of months ago and what she tried to find out for herself, “Just a week after the previous school term ended, the Trace had alerted the Ministry of a magical outburst off the coasts of Seaford, the same day the Quill had written Ms. Hayes’ name in the Book of Admittance.”

“And what did this ‘magical outburst’ entail, Matilda?” It came as no surprise that it was Dinah who warily asked this question.

“Kept under wraps, I’m afraid.” Matilda now sighed, adjusting her glasses as she continued, “The Ministry may have classified the incident as an accident but from what I’ve garnered, the cleanup had been meticulous. Suffice to say, the Ministry didn’t know what to do with an orphaned young witch had Eleazar not taken her under his tutelage.”

“And no living relatives of Ms. Hayes’ remains? Not even in the Wizarding community?” Abraham asked, his tone laced with empathy.

“Unfortunately, no trace of her grandmother could even be found in our records even before she had married into the Hayes name, and the other half of Ms. Hayes’ parentage, may well remain a mystery to all of us.”

“Then with Professor Fig being considered as Ms. Hayes’ guardian, shouldn’t he have been in this meeting as well, Professor?’ Came Bai Howin’s question.

“I haven’t had the chance to inform him during dinner this evening, unfortunately. I surmise he was sent out on one of the Headmaster’s excursions again.” And although Matilda did not voice it aloud yet, she had found Eleazar’s frequent trips outside the castle before to be quite curious indeed, if not frustratingly so. Though hopefully those times would lessen to an occasion now that he’d taken it upon himself to take in a protégé.

It wasn’t until later that evening when the meeting had been concluded and Matilda was ready to retire for the night did a pair of steps sounded to quickly catch up to her, “Professor Weasley! Matilda!” This made her pause in her ascent at the Grand Staircase as she turned to see it was Eleazar who called after her.

“I’ve just returned from Ollivander’s and heard about the Troll attack, surely the rumored students involved weren’t—”

“Ah, but in fact your suspicions prove correct, Eleazar.” Matilda nodded towards the professor, who now held a troubled look on his face as they both ascended the stairs at an even pace before she continued, “Word has it, that while Officer Ruth Singer and a couple of experienced Curse-Breakers found difficulty in overthrowing a fully grown Troll over the cliffs’ edge at Hogsmeade, two students managed to subdue another one that followed at the town circle and— if rumors are to be believed— one student in particular was responsible for putting down the second Troll.”

“Well, it’s surely a relief that Mr. Sallow was there to handle it then.” Eleazar’s smile of practiced relief did not go unnoticed by Matilda.

“Yes, a talented young wizard he may be, but no form of Bombarda— or Confringo for that matter— can be capable of turning a fully grown Troll into nothing but ash, Eleazar.” She pointed out as they now stopped on the landing leading towards the Faculty Tower, “I must say, I find it all quite… baffling, to have you both arrive after a dragon attack and now well—Trolls, in Hogsmeade, to which I’ve never heard happen before…”

“She’s right, you know.” A portrait had unwittingly supplied, only coughing awkwardly before minding his own business when the Deputy Headmistress had stared long and hard at his frame.

But seeing as her chance to get answers out of her ever-enigmatic colleague had now been broken, Matilda could only sigh in contained exasperation as she then handed him a copy of the Memorandum she’d discussed during the meeting earlier, “I’m certain Professor Hecat has started disseminating this with the students under her House, but as Ms. Hayes’ standing guardian, I think it’s best you also be made aware of these forthcoming changes.”

Parting ways as Matilda then continued to ascend the stairs, she could only hope that whatever Eleazar was keeping to himself would not gravely involve the young charge under his care.

September 2, 1890

To say this was a long day would be an understatement. And I was hoping to express that with the same mundanity that would usually come with attending one’s first classes at the start of term.

Because, while Charms class was an exciting display of prowess during a game called Summoner’s Court, and attending my Defence Against the Dark Arts class proved to be helpful in honing my defensive abilities— especially as it opened an opportunity for me to join an unofficial duelling club— What turned out to be the highlight of my day was my afternoon trip to Hogsmeade however.

I was only there to replenish some of my lost school supplies, after all, no one could have possibly predicted the Troll attack that took place right after. My classmate, Sebastian, was luckily there with me— he seems to be a good wizard to have on your side— And the new wand I’ve acquired at Ollivanders’, seemed to have also greatly contributed to fending off the Troll…

Beatrice would have written more about the unpleasant encounter she’d had of Ranrok and an unsavory local called Rookwood— she was sure they’ve now had an inkling of whatever Ancient Magic she could see traces of, but to what end, she had yet to find out. For the moment however, her eyes grew heavy with sleep.

Leaving her journal open to dry by her bedside window, Beatrice lay back on her pillow, wondering what tomorrow may bring. Unbeknownst to her, a certain stone glowed a fiery red, deep within the enchanted pockets of her robe…

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

“Look out!” This looked familiar…

“Protego!” The magical duel that followed summoned a familiar ache in her dominant wand arm…

“Stay close!” A memory. Something as surreal as following the curiously floating lights in the dark of an unknown Gringotts vault, but familiar in its act of pulling this Ancient Magic upward before—

The strands of Magic closed in, weighing down to turn into ropes that bound, while malicious laughter rang all around her, the distant scent of the sea made it sting to breath.

She remembered hating this sense of helplessness— something she could fight off had it not been for the pain she’d felt building for days— a burning in her chest that made her let out a bellow. She had never expected her cry of anguish to manifest itself into a blazing inferno, burning in rage as it consumed everything around her.

With her bindings having also burned away, she tried reaching for the next thing that made her feel secure, the familiar handle of her sword was a welcome warmth amidst the chaos that surrounded her. She couldn’t have caused this— she was a Squib just like her mother, wasn’t she? But these were questions that had to wait as she shook her head, the pain in her chest may have slowly diminished but the smoke all around was making it harder to breath.

A coughed gasp to her left caught her attention as she gazed over the roaring flames, “Cassidy!”

The raised finger that pointed at her in response froze her in place as she heard the next words uttered in cold accusation, “You— witch!”

Beatrice woke up with a start as a gasp of her own caught in her throat, daring not to move a muscle as she laid stiffly in her dorm bed. Once she’d slowly come to the realization that her arms and legs were only haphazardly tangled between her sheets, did Beatrice slowly let out the breath she only just noticed she was holding, righting her nightwear as she felt it cling to the thin sheen of cold sweat that seemingly covered her body.

She tried falling asleep again to the soft, peaceful snores of her roommates as she closed her eyes, only to realize that sleep won’t easily come back to her. Beatrice begrudgingly sat up on her bed, silky blue sheets pooling around her like a ripple of dark waves in the dimly lit room as she squinted past the shadows that came from her partially drawn bed curtain. Slowly, she reached out for the school robe she’d carelessly draped over a chair beside her bed in a tired manner earlier to get ready for bed.

Weightless though it may seem, she still couldn’t help but wonder about the magic of it all knowing what she’d kept within its pockets— the ivory hilt smooth to her touch as she pulled at the familiar handle, dim lighting vaguely reflecting off whatever remained of the sword’s mostly mottled blade— evidence of how unnatural the raging inferno was the night Beatrice’s magic burst forth. She´d kept it on her for sentimentality’s sake, despite yesterday’s ordeal during the Troll attack proving that her safety now lay with her newly acquired wand.

Reaching for the fair-shaded piece of wood, she thumbed through the grooves that made up its texture, feeling a sense of familiarity with the warmth that emanated from it— she’d need to find a suitable wand handle for it sometime but could only let out a sigh for now as she slowly slid both wand and sword in the seemingly endless pockets of her robe before wearing it. She supposed she should get some reading done from the books Amit had recommended to her.

Grateful for Samantha to have graciously arranged the borrowed titles at the foot of her bed, Beatrice picked a copy that focused on the goblin rebellions from centuries past before she rose to stand, when she heard something tumble out from her other pocket. Recognizing it as the inscribed stone Natty had given her for safe-keeping, Beatrice was initially surprised how warm it was now to the touch, before she thought it best to leave it by her headboard— all the while failing to notice its once hazy tone emitted a lighter swirl as she left.

Quietly ascending the steps from her dorm room, Beatrice thought this was the perfect time to explore the upper deck she’d only just glimpsed on her first night upon entering their Common Room, climbing the next set of stairs led her to an equally spacious area decked in the same calming blue hues of her House colors. There, she gravitated towards an armchair near a piano, sneaking a look at the clock nearby indicating it was still less than two hours before curfew supposedly ended— though surely no Prefects would still be meticulously scouring about…

Passing the time reading, Beatrice found it frustrating that not much insights were given on how the previous rebellions were managed— one would think the Ministry would have done something to prevent it from happening almost every century now, yet with the one time Beatrice witnessed Ranrok use wandless magic and be able to control Trolls and dragons alike with whatever was infused in those metalwork— She feared the Ministry was just as complacent as it had been during the past.

If only there was a way to map out their base camps and slowly but surely incapacitate them… The moment Beatrice thought that, she felt the tiniest of vibrations she’d now come to associate with her Field Guide which eagerly opened to a page after having just been pulled from her pocket. What in the world…? Beatrice looked on in disbelief as she slowly thumbed over the sketch of the ‘Armoured Troll’ they’d encountered at Hogsmeade yesterday, she was sure this page wasn’t here before, nor was the note on how to better defeat it using which spells, so how—?

Before she could question it further though, the pages again flipped on its own to reveal a map— not of Hogwarts nor Hogsmeade as she’d previously seen— no, this was what she’d assume to be the whole of the Wizarding Highlands even though the map was still mostly greyed out, Beatrice was sure she could almost make out some points of interest her Field Guide had yet to reveal. Before she could study it up close though, the pages snapped itself shut just as a stern voice spoke up from over the armchair where she sat, “Students shouldn’t be out of bed before curfew.”

This made Beatrice look up into a pair of dark eyes, a boy who looked to be her upper classman, casually had an arm draped over the corner of the high back where she sat as he now peered down at her curiously, “I don’t think we’ve met— I’d definitely remember a face like yours…”

Momentarily taken aback, she gaped up at the dark haired boy as he leaned past the armchair enough for her to notice something glint on the corner of his blazer collar, a badge with the word, ‘Prefect’, was what Beatrice read emblazoned on it before her attention focused on what he said next, “Go on then, let me hear your name and I might let you off easy this first time with just a warning—”

“Come off it, Fawley.”

The dark-haired boy was suddenly interrupted by a voice that Beatrice thought sounded familiar as he continued, “Can’t have you bullying the 1^st years this early into the term.” She realized who it was once the voice approached her vantage point, “Andrew!”

“Beatrice?” She noticed Andrew mask his surprise as he seemed to school his expression into an expectant smile, “I’m glad you decided to take me up on my offer.” He said as he extended an arm out, noting he held a broom in his other.

Hoping to get out of whatever trouble she unwittingly found herself in, Beatrice quickly stood from where she sat and stiffly stood beside Andrew, cradling both her book and Field Guide close to her chest anxiously as she heard Fawley exclaim, “Ah, the new fifth year, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Beatrice felt herself tense as she saw him knowingly smile at her before his gaze settled on her classmate, “Already taking advantage of your privileges as Prefect in your year, aren’t you Larson?”

“Just thought it best that a familiar face be the one to teach our new Housemate some House rules before it could cost us anymore points.” Andrew had answered coolly, before he supplied, “My father also sends his regards.”

Beatrice instantly noticed the change in the other boy’s demeanor as he almost scoffed, instead he said, “Best it not be me then to catch you another time, isn’t that right, Beatrice?” Fawley now directed that question at her as he held a smirk on face, making her tersely nod at him before he’d backed away towards the dorms.

“Hector Fawley.” Andrew quietly huffed out in exasperation when the other boy was out of earshot, “6^th year, but don’t get intimidated by the likes of him, he’s all talk and no bark.” He offered her a comforting smile as he nodded towards a metallic set of stairs she’d only just noticed leading up, making Beatrice follow him out of curiosity.

“You never said anything about being a Prefect.” She couldn’t help but blurt out.

“Not exactly something to brag about.” He chuckled in reply, “It was actually supposed to be Amit but… He said he’d rather use the time at the Astronomy Tower than getting other students into more trouble than they are. So he thought to recommend me instead, to easily get him off the hook whenever he’d sneak out to study the stars.” He shook his head with a smile as they neared the door up the stairs.

“And… you manage to easily get out of trouble by simply mentioning your father?” Beatrice really didn’t mean to pry, but she was still surprised that Fawley had been quick to back off earlier.

“It only works for Fawley really, he needs a good recommendation to get in a job department he’s been eyeing to get extra credits for in his next term and… it just so happens my father works for the Ministry.”

“Sounds like he’s quite dedicated to get the post then.” Beatrice said, making Andrew turn towards her with an unconvinced look on his face, just as he was preparing to unlock the door they’ve now reached.

“He just doesn’t want to take on his family’s business that’s why he’s running off to the Ministry, that won’t instantly turn him into a dedicated politician.” He’d managed to say before pushing open the now unlocked door as he gestured towards Beatrice, “Ladies first.”

There was a bite to the pre-sunrise air as she stepped out to what looked to be their House’s rooftop, mesmerized with the lit towers that surrounded them and the mountain silhouettes she could make out beyond, Beatrice only realized she now felt warm as Andrew draped his robe over her shoulders. “A Warming Charm! I’ve yet to master casting it on clothes…” Beatrice thought it best not to risk accidentally incinerating the few clothing she had left after the dragon attack enroute to Hogwarts.

“You should though, it’ll only get colder in the months to come.” He advised while leading Beatrice towards a lone stone bench just off the side of the door, settling down as he proceeded to Transfigure some tiny objects from a pouch Beatrice just noticed he held, fascinating her more as it turned into a teacup set that levitated to even start serving hot tea! “I hope you don’t mind peppermint tea with a dash of honey?”

“I’d love that very much, please!” Beatrice couldn’t help but grin at the mention of her favorite flavor, taking a seat beside Andrew as a steaming cup of tea floated next to her, “Careful, I heard out in the grounds that showing off was a Muggle trait.” She couldn’t help but tease, smiling at the convenience that magic provided.

“Well, I guess I am entitled to a bit of showing off, knowing I’m half and half…” Andrew’s smile was almost impish as he supplemented, “My mum… was the witch— she’d come to think that I’d take after my father, as my magic manifested later than most Wizarding children— though she passed away a year before I got my Acceptance Letter from Hogwarts…” His smile turned sober then, a faraway look crossing his features.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Andrew…” Beatrice softly said as she balanced the steaming cup of tea on its saucer, not quite sure how to proceed with such a topic as she had no personal memories of her own mother to begin with, “…But I’m sure she’d have been happy to know how far along you’ve come in your studies here at Hogwarts.”

“I’d like to think she’d be even proud that I got into the House she was also sorted in during her time here.” When they’d exchanged smiles, Beatrice only just realized to ask, “And your father works for the Ministry, despite being a Muggle?”

“Well, he only worked for the Muggle Prime Minister before, but meeting my mum gave him an opportunity to work closely with Minister Spavin. You’d be surprised how the Ministry of Magic ‘works’ closely with our Muggle Parliament— heard the confusing charm, Confundus, gets casts a lot, but relatively safer than Obliviate— which is where my father steps in, as he safely secures the importantly signed documents that must not be read again after the fact.”

“Well—” Beatrice paused in disbelief, watching Andrew calmly take a sip from his teacup, as if what he just divulged didn’t greatly involve the political standing of Britian’s Wizarding Community. “How did… your parents meet, exactly? If you don’t mind me asking…” She asked instead, settling for what Beatrice assumed to be a safer topic to broach.

“Hmm… Well, from what I know, my mum was on the run from an arranged marriage she didn’t want. Lived off from being a ‘wandering fortune teller’, as she once retold, and somehow got caught illegally setting up camp in my father’s property—" Andrew cut himself off there as if now caught saying too much when he didn’t find any problem explaining his father’s job before—

“Wait… your father’s property and working for the Prime Minister— Andrew, you’re… part of the nobility.” Beatrice ended her sentence more as an exclamation than a question based on what she’d now found out about her companion.

“It’s not exactly something I’d relish to brag about, after all, I’m here at Hogwarts aiming to excel on my Divination,” Andrew sighed, “Which I’d really need to work on, seeing I didn’t foresee us needing biscuits with our tea…”

“I guess this is where I come in handy then,” Beatrice chimed in, fumbling with her robes where she just slipped in both her book and Field Guide, as she now procured a tin of the magical animal biscuits that she had bought yesterday at Honeydukes.

“An Extension Charm on your robes, I see! I could never quite get it to work how I want to with mine…” He said almost in thought while graciously accepting the tin of Elephant on a Bicycle.

“These biscuits might cause quite the ruckus this early in the morning though…” Beatrice worriedly said.

“Not to worry, these can quietly be consumed like this,” Andrew snapped a biscuit in half, proceeding to eat it in two separate chews, “See? Just perfectly fine animal biscuits without the added fuss.”

“That’s— actually a brilliant idea!” She laughed, biting into her own biscuit in half.

“You’d be surprised to know it was Everett who discovered it, after he’d frustratingly wanted a moment’s peace during a study session back in our earlier years. Almost crushed it into crumbs, he did.” Andrew shook his head as if in remembrance, a good-natured smile on his face as he continued, “As much as he costs us a good few points with his creative pranks, that chap does try to do his best in being studious like the rest of us.”

“And speaking of points, are there really some ‘House rules’ you mentioned teaching me? In order not to cost us from losing anymore House points…?”

“In fact, there are— a couple new ones actually,” Andrew answered, procuring a folded copy of the recent Memorandum from his pants’ pocket which he handed to Beatrice to read, “Most likely from the recent Troll attack at Hogsmeade which, if I am to base on rumors, you’ve done an excellent job in handling.”

“You know they could very well be just baseless rumors, right?” She shook her head, her smile instantly turning into a frown at what she was reading.

“I know it all seems a bit much but… I’ve heard things haven’t been much safer in the Wizarding Highlands even months before the previous term was coming to an end…” Andrew solemnly said, noticing Beatrice’s change in demeanor.

“It almost feels like there’s this ‘darkness’ that’s spreading across the Highlands, doesn’t it?” She’d asked quietly, mostly to herself as she handed back the piece of paper, her gaze forlornly settling on her now empty teacup in hand as the tin of biscuits now lay forgotten between them.

“My mother used to have a saying, ‘Darkness is always chased away by the light of a new day, if one only remembers to open their eyes.’”

Beatrice looked towards her companion then, seeing Andrew gesturing towards something in the distance that made her turn to see the slowly lightening sky, the early rays of sun shyly peeking from the Highland mountains in the distance.

“It’s a wonderful saying to hear with quite the sight.” She said as she closed her eyes with a smile, breathing in the refreshing cold morning air, “You don’t happen to keep this little spot of sunshine to yourself, do you Andrew?”

“I’m not opposed to sharing my lovely company, as long as they have biscuits to contribute.” He answered cheekily as she met his gaze, the rising sunlight giving an almost golden sheen to his brown eyes, reminding her of a certain brunette she’d spent yesterday’s afternoon with… “I should thank you for the tea—”

“There you are!”

The exclamation came along with the rooftop door suddenly being pushed open, “I dreamt you were out slaying Trolls off somewhere!” Beatrice turned to see it was Constance who had spoken towards her, decked completely in Quidditch attire as she marched her way towards them, an accusing finger readily pointed at Andrew, “And you! Slacking off the first chance we get to go back flying!”

“Look who’s forgotten that Quidditch got CANCELLED this season.” The boy let out a groan in response, putting emphasis on the sport’s current predicament as he slowly Transfigured the now empty teacups and pot back into their pouch, handing back Beatrice her tin of biscuits with a mouthed ‘thank you’ before reaching for the broom he’d set aside as he stood.

“That’s no excuse to quit flying altogether! If you’re ever going to get the Chaser position, you’ve got to put some work into it!” Constance retorted as she stepped closer to the rooftop’s edge, making Beatrice’s heart catch in her throat as her roommate jumped off it to expertly land on her broom, before calling out to her, “Also, Beatrice! I let Hermes in our room just now, seems like he’s got an early letter for you!” The girl had lastly said against the blowing wind, before flying off.

“Always did prefer just being the Keeper…” Beatrice heard Andrew grumble as he slowly started to float up after mounting his broom, “Wait, Andrew! Your robe!”

“Keep it for now, maybe you could cast a good Extension charm on it in the meantime?” He asked with a conspiratorial wink towards her direction, before flying off faster than Beatrice expected him to.

The rooftop felt colder now that she was alone, but it was still a breathtaking spot she won’t mind returning to again in the future. For now though, she chose to slowly climb down the stairs leading towards her dorm room just as the first few early risers started occupying the sitting areas in their Common Room.

“Good morning…” Samantha had groggily greeted her, still looking half asleep as the girl sat up on her bed, to which made Beatrice softly smiled as she greeted her friend back, before settling her gaze on Hermes who looked busy proudly ruffling his feathers as he held a letter in one of his talons. She knew who it was from the moment she saw the seal.

Come and see me. I’ve discovered something in the locket we found in Gringotts.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8.5

Dear Anne –

Hogwarts isn´t the same without you, but it seems you’ve summoned in some favors by ensuring my ego remains bruised with defeat during a rather lively mock duel in Hecat’s class the first day. If you must know to whom do you owe the pleasure, then it would interest you to find out that we’ve welcomed a new classmate in our year— and no, she’s not a transferee from another wizarding academy— She actually just started with her magical education as she only just grew into her Magic this late, have you heard about an instant like that, Anne?

Even so, Beatrice (our new classmate’s name) seems to be quite the enigma. I daresay I wish to unravel more about her. If this is your way of sending a new perspective in my midst, then I shall endeavor to make the best out of this term— even though, well, I heard Sharp is still as foul. But, you know what I mean.

I’ve also enclosed your requested sweets from Honeydukes here. I hope you’re doing better.

Sebastian

He watched their shared owl, Pudge, fly off from the Owlery— the screech owl might take a day or two before coming back with a reply from his twin, but he garnered it had moreso to do with the tiny thing preferring to be spoiled with snacks in the company of his sister than being cooped up in a place where he rarely sent or received any letters.

Imagine his surprise this morning when Sebastian was discreetly pulled aside after breakfast by their Head of House, as Professor Ronen proudly granted him a fair number of House points for his endeavors at Hogsmeade yesterday, as well as jovially telling him he was excused for today’s classes.

After heeding his Charms Professor’s advice to get himself properly checked by Nurse Blainey, he used the better half of his time to sit back down in his room to properly compose a letter to his sister. But with that done, Sebastian found himself with more time in his hands and couldn’t help but let his mind wander to his charge— Had she also been excused for today’s classes as well? Where could she be in the castle during this time of day, perchance?— A quick look at his pocket watch gave Sebastian a plausible insight on where Beatrice just might be at this time. Maybe they’d finally get around to spending Study period together after a round at Crossed Wands.

“But sir, how dangerous could the library be? Perhaps we’re only after a book.”

“Perhaps we are only after a book. But we should be prepared for anything.”

Beatrice wasn’t privy to the details on how exactly she was found the night her magic violently burst forth, all she was made aware of the morning she’d gained consciousness in a quaint London flat along Charing Cross was that she was now a witch, set to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in two months’ time under the safety of her now-mentor’s tutelage and that the life she once knew, now barely existed.

Obliviated— was what she heard casted on those few who managed to survive the destruction she’d left behind in that awful cave off the coasts of Seaford— And for all Beatrice knew, the convent of St. Margarets crossed her off as a runaway from the sisterhood. It may have taken a week before she came around to warming up with her new guardian, but Beatrice would still often wonder…

Professor Weasley insists that they will need an escort and a mentor to help them acclimatize before term begins. I have assigned the task to you. Please see Professor Weasley for details.

Surely it would have taken at least a day or two for the Ministry to have Traced the source of her magical outburst yet Beatrice was sure, despite her slowly losing consciousness amidst the smoke from the blazing inferno that night, that it was Professor Fig himself who had come for her and not just any other Auror. So why did the letter she had read in his classroom seem to have been addressed to him after the fact? Maybe she was reading too much into it—

“Ready to get thrashed?”

She had to focus on her Crossed Wands duel at the moment.

“Is everything all right, Beatrice?” The question made her give a quick nod of assurance back to Natty, who had graciously accepted being her duelling partner for this round— going against three opponents by herself still seemed a bit overwhelming after all and honestly, when was Constance going to tell her she was also part of Crossed Wands?

“I just had to do something exciting if Quidditch wouldn’t be having matches this year,” Constance supplied as if reading her mind while deflecting Beatrice’s basic cast on her, “I’d be bored out of my mind in the Gobstones Club!”

“I’m guessing this being “exclusive and unsanctioned” was enough to tickle your curiosity?” Beatrice asked with a grin, alternating her offense on a Slytherin girl who quickly accepted defeat without a fuss.

“I’d agree with its exclusivity, wouldn’t have been gotten in if not for Astoria’s recommendation— practically encouraged us to branch out to other clubs now that Quidditch practice is mostly off the schedule. Though I’d doubt this club is as unsanctioned as it’s said to be—” Constance huffed out a breath, pausing just enough to see Beatrice finish off the younger Gryffindor who had just bested Onai, “—doubt Hecat didn’t get a whiff of this.”

“Best not make her question the sanctity of our duels here then?” Beatrice faced her roommate then, they were the only ones left standing, making Constance grin at her eagerly, “Even better if we make a good show out of it!” She said before casting a yellowish streak towards Beatrice’s way—

Sebastian hadn’t expected the ruckus that welcomed him at the Clock Tower, seeing Hector Jenkins frustratingly have a go at their club’s training dummy, “She could’ve gone a bit easier on me!” The young Gryffindor had almost whined as Lucan immediately stepped in, albeit cautiously.

“What did I miss?” Sebastian couldn’t help but voice aloud.

“Quite a bit. Beatrice actually asked after you, Sallow.” It was Natsai Onai who had spoken up as she was passing by, a blonde Ravenclaw by her side who jokingly quipped, “Had me best thinking perhaps I should just stick to potions.” Sebastian only then recognized her as the girl who sat beside Beatrice during the Start-of-Term Feast, “Heard she had to turn in some extra assignments for Professor Hecat though, you might find her near there if you’re looking for her?”

She’d phrased it more as a question, but Sebastian was sooner thanking her as he made his way out of the South Wing and towards the D.A.D.A. Tower. He’d just rounded the corner near the bottom of the stairs by the D.A.D.A. Classroom when, yet another Ravenclaw had unceremoniously bumped into him— Sebastian was starting to reflect on the irony that kept him from crossing paths with the one girl he was more keen on seeing today.

“Hey, watch it! I just got my prized collection back thanks to the new student!” The younger girl had fretted, not bothering to look up at him as she carefully counted the Gobstones she had in her hands. Wait, wasn’t she that obnoxious 1^st year Anne had mischievously gotten hooked on the infernal game during the earlier months of the previous term?

“Noke, right? Zenobia Noke?” Sebastian watched as the smaller girl visibly tensed as she now looked up at him, first in trepidation before a look of recognition made her relax, “You’re Anne’s twin brother, right? Thought you looked familiar. How is she? I don’t think I’ve seen her around much…” Ah, of course news of his sister’s predicament would be talked about lightly amongst the younger students, for fear that their parents would keep them from returning to school if a goblin curse was ever made known…

“She’s… not well at the moment, but she’ll get better and be back at Hogwarts soon.” Sebastian had lost track how many times he’d said those lines to people who asked about his sister, he kept it from sounding more like a means of convincing himself than any…

“I do hope so, Imelda’s turned out to be one of the worst losers, she’s there along Astoria and Everett in my books— terrible they are for hiding my Gobstones in high places all over the school. It’s a good thing Beatrice was kind enough to help me get them back, she even promised to play a round with me in our Common room if I ever catch her there lounging about.”

Sebastian couldn’t help the twitch in his mouth as he tried to hide a smile at Zenobia’s giddy mention of Beatrice— he supposed she was the congenial type— but speaking of, “Beatrice didn’t happen to mention where she’d be at the moment, would she?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant while surreptitiously eyeing the door above the stairs, as if Beatrice might instantly come out of their D.A.D.A. classroom.

“She did mention heading to the Astronomy Tower, I think? Even asked me something about… what was it… flying keys? I don’t think I’ve ever even seen keys flying about here in our school though.”

Sebastian hadn’t as well, but he can’t completely deny he hadn’t heard about it— those Daedalian Keys. It was something he’d heard Anne gush about after hearing it from a Gryffindor named Nellie Oggspire, someone he associated with the Osprey bird, what with the Lion cub’s affinity to carelessly find herself in high up places outside the towers. Though he never did get around to asking Anne if she’d ever started her own search for the flying keys before the incident at Feldcroft happened over the past holidays… he ought to the next time he came to visit, just to give her a boost of encouragement to get back to Hogwarts.

With that in mind, he’d left Zenobia to her Gobstones and kept aware of his surroundings, especially as he was just about to pass by the Tower’s student lounge area when he’d heard a voice grumble— “Shame, if I hadn’t needed the extra Galleons from losing that bet with Leander, I would have swapped it with the authentic historian’s uniform that Beatrice had found instead…”

That was enough to stop Sebastian in his tracks as his eyes roamed for the source of the usually grating voice, zeroing in on Arthur Plummly, “I heard you mention Beatrice, was she here just now?” Sebastian went straight to the point as he neared the Hufflepuff to ask.

“Oh hey Sebastian, Beatrice was here a few moments ago.” Plummly had jovially supplied, to which had Sebastian feeling a twitch on his brow though as he never remembered being on a first name basis with the Badger, “In fact I heard she’d be looking for you in the D.A.D.A. Tower. You hadn’t crossed paths with her on the way up here?”

Sebastian kept the sigh of frustration from escaping his lips, instead gritting out an excuse before he backtracked his steps down and subconsciously let his feet take him towards the jolly tune being played by the charmed musical quartet back in the D.A.D.A. Tower, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the Burning Witch portrait but not actually looking at it as he was now completely lost in thought. He pondered if maybe staying put in one place would prove more effective in crossing paths with Beatrice—

“Sebastian. There you are.”

“There you are.” Sebastian tried not to sound too excited at now finally having come across the girl he’d been looking for the better part of the morning, granted she had been the one to have found him first, “You promised me an explanation for what happened in the Three Broomsticks. Not many students have Victor Rookwood’s attention. What was that all about?” It was one of the many worries he’d come to realize after waking up with a clearer head from a good night’s rest.

“I’ve never even met him. Perhaps he mistook me for another student.”

“If you say so.” Beatrice’s reply almost made him bristle, as if he’d sooner believe the notorious gang leader had just thought to single her out amidst the crowded pub right after she’d demonstrated a curious form of Magic— “I won’t press you now, but you will have to tell me what’s going on at some point. You might need me.” Or he, her, if she ever decided to share whatever secrets she had with him… “So, why were you looking for me?”

“I need to find something for Professor Fig, but it’s in the Restricted Section of the Library.”

“He can’t get it himself?” Sebastian huffed, already having an inkling where this conversation was going.

“He was called away by Black at the last moment. I suppose I could wait to get a note from him, but—”

“You want to show some initiative.” At this point, Sebastian was starting to see an opportunity that may help in winning Beatrice over—

“Precisely. You mentioned being ‘clever enough not to get caught’ in the Restricted Section?” She’d looked so hopeful that it made him quick to answer, “And I am. Meet me outside the Library tonight. And tell no one.”

Despite his confidence in his reply, he noticed how Beatrice still somewhat looked anxious, her head slightly tilted as her eyes quickly roamed to check their surroundings for anyone who may be within earshot of whatever they were planning for tonight, before she tentatively asked, “What’s the worst that could happen if we’re caught in the Restricted Section? Not expulsion, I hope.”

Sebastian had to chuckle at that as he would have been expelled long before she’d have ever been sorted in Hogwarts if that was the case. “Just detention, no doubt. But a word of caution or two will help— for one, avoid Peeves the poltergeist. Aside from wanton destruction of property, he loves nothing more than telling on the likes of us.”

“And the librarian? How concerned should we be of Madam Scribner being there later tonight?”

“She’ll be sure gone by the time we sneak in, and it’s best next to tell you that the Madam doesn’t take kindly to clandestine activities taking place amongst her precious books, so do all that you can to avoid her. She and I have had our entanglements, but I can hold my own against her. You may not be so lucky.”

“Thank you, Sebastian. I’ll meet you later.”

“And with that settled, aren’t you forgetting to make time for something else other than the reasons I’ve heard about you walking almost everywhere about the castle?” Sebastian crossed his arms, peering at Beatrice’s confused expression before realization seemed to dawn on her.

“Oh! Of course, I brought these Charms related textbooks I borrowed from the Library, since you hadn’t exactly mentioned the title you needed for reference—”

“Merlin! How many books did you check out??” Sebastian was flabbergasted as Beatrice pulled out at least four books from the enchanted pockets of her robe.

“Just enough to help me catch up, I hope. As much as Professor Fig’s extensive library also helped, I wished we had more standard textbooks to assist us in which Spells are more conducive to teach based on a student's year level.” Beatrice sighed in exasperation.

“Well, there’s no fun in that at all, is there? Might end up limiting a student’s capability in learning more advanced Spells when he can handle it.” Sebastian countered as he helped take the heavy lot off Beatrice’s hands, one of which was thankfully the book he had been looking for, “Although I’d have to agree that the textbooks they’ve safely assigned us to read are too old-fashioned for my choice of reference material.”

“I’m starting to believe that’s the reason you’ve become quite clever in sneaking into unsanctioned places, perhaps?” He spied her cheekily smile at him as he led them down the D.A.D.A. Tower’s stairs.

“Quite. Which makes me believe why we should stir clear of the Library for our Study session today.” A smile of his own played on the corner of his lips as he was just about to lead the way out towards the Transfiguration Courtyard.

“Oh? Not even at the students’ lounge area by the Astronomy Tower then?” Beatrice gave him an inquisitive look, to which he was about to answer when—

“Beatrice! Uhm, I wonder if you might be able to help me with a small, er… project?”

Sebastian couldn’t help but groan out in frustration then, but Beatrice had already turned towards the voice from the side of the stairwell, “Duncan? You wanted to speak with me?”

“Errmm… Yes, well…” He watched the bespectacled boy hesitate as he warily eyed Sebastian who decided to stand by the stairs’ base, still within hearing distance, making sure a frown marred his usual nonchalant features as he waited for Beatrice.

“I— I’ve heard all about you confronting Trolls yesterday!” The boy had managed to squeak out as he tried to focus on his Housemate now in front of him, “Even aside from the dragon attack, it all seems to be amazing luck how you found yourself relatively unscathed from both!”

“I suppose it must seem that way. I’m not sure it’s justified though, it’s all just a… matter of circumstance, shall I say?” Beatrice’s tendency to brush things off had Sebastian scoffing to himself— the girl had to have acknowledged she had an uncanny ability at this point.

“I’m going to presume your reputation is in fact warranted— in which case you are precisely the person I need.” Sebastian now tensed as he leaned in on what Hobhouse had to say next that urgently required Beatrice’s presence, “You see, we were learning the repel Boggarts in Professor Hecat’s class and, well… mine unfortunately took the shape of a— a Puffskein.”

Was that right? Sebastian snorted most improperly as he held back a laugh, to which he met Beatrice’s disapproving glace before she’d turned her attention back on her Housemate, “They’re adorable! Why would you be afraid of a Puffskein?”

“They seem adorable until one sticks its tongue up your nose. Regardless of how reasonable I believe my fear of Puffskeins to be. I’m beginning to get a reputation of a coward. Some have even taken to calling me ‘Puffskein Dunkein’.”

Now Sebastian let out a good chuckle upon hearing the nickname, blatantly grinning Beatrice’s way as he observed her try to hide her own amusement behind her hand with a well-placed cough, “I’m sorry. Words can be cruel no matter how clever they may sound.”

“Everett thinks it is clever, blast him.” The poor boy almost looked faint as he was now red in the face— from anger or embarrassment— Sebastian wasn’t sure, but he kept a close eye in case ‘Dunkein’ was anywhere close to pulling his wand out on Beatrice for laughing at him, “Poppy offered to help me in overcoming my fear, but I’m too afraid to take her up on it.”

“Anyway, to make matters worse, I stupidly blurted out that I must be braver than people think since I have been in the Hidden Herbology Corridor.”

This made Sebastian raise a brow as he never heard of such a place in the castle, Beatrice also repeated the name of the place in question towards her Housemate, “Yes. Rumour has it that the Herbology professor before Professor Garlick kept dangerous plants there.” Dunkein had looked so smug upon divulging this tiny bit of information that Sebastian felt a tick of annoyance when the bespectacled boy had the gall to give him a look as if he one-upped him on some regard.

“It’s supposedly overrun now that no one dares to enter it anymore. I was hoping you could go there and bring back evidence that I could use to show that… well, I’d gone in…? Say, a bit of an exceptionally dangerous plant of some kind?”

“What sort of plants should I expect in the Hidden Herbology Corridor?” Beatrice’s line of questioning now had Sebastian on high alert.

“I haven’t a clue. But have you seen the kinds of plants Professor Garlick grows?” Sebastian hazarded a guess she hadn’t, not personally anyway. This could prove dangerous for Beatrice, and he wasn’t comfortable at the thought that she’d be risking herself for something as petty as this boy’s ‘courage’.

“If the previous professor was anything like her, I’d imagine they’re not exactly harmless.” Then why are you sending her there in the first place?! It took all of Sebastian’s will not to Depulso Dunkein into the wall behind where he stood just to knock some sense into the boy.

“Very well. If I’m in the area, perhaps I shall take a look.” Not good. That most definitely didn’t sound like a blatant refusal from Beatrice at all, and it made Sebastian feel the dread slowly settle in the pit of his stomach.

“Grand. I’d very much appreciate it. Come find me if you get proof. I shall be forever in your debt.”

When Beatrice had parted ways with her Housemate and was now walking beside Sebastian as they passed through the Transfiguration Courtyard and entered Central Hall, that’s when he knew he had to make a decision, “We should find some of that evidence now.” He finally said.

“What?” Beatrice stopped in her tracks, clearly caught off guard by the boy’s exclamation as they stopped by the Hall’s Fountain with Sebastian now looking at her.

“At the Hidden Herbology Corridor, we should go and find it now.” He’d repeated in saying.

“But— I thought we had a Study session going on?”

“Which I’m sure you won’t have your full attention on, seeing as you’d be otherwise preoccupied.” He’d cast her a knowing look, seeing an adorable dusting of pink shade Beatrice’s cheeks as she tried to reason, “Well, I won’t exactly know where to start—” She stopped short as Sebastian’s gaze pointedly focused on one of the enchanted pockets of her robe, making her realize to pull out her Field Guide.

“Well?” He’d asked, observing the look of amazement that crossed Beatrice’s face at perhaps seeing the very location indicated on the map she held, all she had to do was make that ‘golden guiding thread’ pop out again, “Care to lead the way?” Sebastian now asked with a grin on his face.

“Anything ‘hidden’ must sound intriguing, shouldn’t it? Have you been here before, Sebastian?”

“Never even heard of it, until now that is.” He warily glanced at the dried foliage supposedly blocking the entryway, part of him was glad it looked untouched for a long time, meaning Anne hadn’t caught wind of this place. To think Ominis now thought of him to have taken the mantle for recklessness since his twin was off recuperating, maybe the young Gaunt did have the right to worry for the remaining Sallow he had for company in this school.

“Hmm… These dry vines are one spark away from becoming kindling.” Beatrice had hummed out in observation, but before Sebastian could contribute much help in clearing the obstacle away, the girl was quick to cast an Incendio. Sebastian made a mental note never to get in Beatrice’s way.

“I see you’ve learned the Fire-making Charm now; I garner the Ministry had given you some exceptions in casting magic outside school before the term began?” Sebastian asked as he made for the wooden door first, warily pushing it open as it creaked on its hinges ominously, revealing a crumbling set of stone stairs leading down further into darkness.

“They only had me honing the most basic of spells and charms, nothing particularly offensive. I’ve only just learned Incendio from Professor Hecat during a private study session today actually.” Beatrice didn’t so much as hesitate when she took the first step down before Sebastian could even caution her, “I’m not keeping you from anything, am I? We might still be able to catch the lunch hour after this, but you might have classes.” She’d asked as she waited for Sebastian to follow her.

As if additional assignments and now private study sessions with their Professors weren’t enough, Sebastian guiltily thought he was actually the one keeping Beatrice from enjoying having time for herself, wasn’t he? “Turns out my little act of ‘heroism’ yesterday didn’t go unwarranted, and I’ve been given time off from any studies today. I was hoping it was the same for your case?”

“As I’ve a lot to catch up on, unfortunately that wasn’t the case. Hence why Professor Fig advised me to seek out Professor Hecat this morning. And you shouldn’t consider yesterday as a small feat, I wouldn’t have gotten out of there unscathed without you.” Sebastian felt his ears heat up at her words, thankful for the dimness that surrounded them. Before he could relish in Beatrice’s sweet smile however, the scant sunlight coming through the still open doorway was swiftly taken out as the door slammed shut with a heavy thump, drowning the both of them in the musty damp scent that encapsulated the place.

“Well, nowhere to go but further down into these depths, I suppose.” Beatrice’s humorous tone was the only thing keeping Sebastian from stubbornly wanting to lead the way. He just had to remain vigilant for the girl’s sake then, holding a hand out over her head as they crouched pass a fallen beam in the corridor.

“Oof!” Sebastian steadied himself as he almost bumped into Beatrice the further they went in, thinking of teasing her if she’d changed her mind in continuing their little excursion, it was only then did he notice her tense posture as she held her arm up sideways to keep him from taking a step further.

“Devil’s Snare. Thrives in darkness but sulks in the sun.” Beatrice mumbled almost to herself as Sebastian observed that the only thing keeping the deadly vines from crawling towards them was the little bit of sunlight spilling through the collapsed overhead they’d just passed. This really was starting to look more like an errand than anything else…

“Lumos!” Beatrice had casted, already a step ahead of Sebastian before he could even huff out and make her see reason, making his main objective now was to ensure they both got out of here relatively unharmed as he also casted the Wand-Lighting Charm and followed her further into the eerie corridor— the sounds of the vines slithering away from their light almost looking like snakes in the shadows.

It wasn’t until Sebastian had just hoisted himself over a fallen wooden beam after his companion did he notice her quickly turn right and head up a set of stairs— “Beatrice!”

“I’ll be quick! Surely these stairs must lead somewhere…” Her muffled voice echoed back to him, but just as he was about to crouch past the beam almost blocking the stairs’ entryway, Sebastian heard a series of ‘Incendio’ being casted, making him look up just moments before he could stop Beatrice from jumping over the crumbled landing.

“Good, gods!” Sebastian exclaimed, feeling as if his heart jumped into his throat as he continued to watch Beatrice lean over something.

“I saw this… chest glowing, amidst the dark…” He’d heard her say.

“Surely whatever you’d find there wouldn’t be anything use—” His words were interrupted as he’d heard her gasp, “What is it?? Did something dangerous come out from that chest???” Sebastian felt his worry grow the longer they spent in this hidden corridor.

“I might be able to use this… It looks like it’s been enchanted not to gather dust or some sort…” Beatrice held something up from where she stood, inching closer to the crumbled landing.

“Beatrice, don’t move!” Sebastian caught her full attention then, a quizzical look on her face as she held onto whatever it was she found in that chest, “Let me levitate you down from there, alright?” Despite her look of uncertainty, the moment she nodded her consent, Sebastian made quick work to cast a combination of the Levitation and Summoning Charm smoothly. Her outstretched hands grasped onto his shoulders once she got closer, which had Sebastian steadying her until she found her footing, making him suddenly aware of her sweet scent as they stood alone in the musty corridor.

“Well, that’s one way to use those set of spells outside of Crossed Wands then.” Beatrice said in amusement, the glow from her Lumos highlighting her smile, “Speaking of sets, look at these clothes that I just found!”

Sebastian had been quite engrossed with having Beatrice this close to him that when she’d mentioned the set of clothes she had over her arm, he was loath to admit that he missed her warmth the second she stepped away from him, “That does look quite the ensemble.” He’d cleared his throat in nonchalant observation, not wanting to admit that the way he’d gripped his wand wasn’t because of how he’d just held Beatrice by her waist.

“It does look a bit fancy, but I won’t complain about a spare change of clothes outside of our school uniform after, well… not having most them arrive…” She’d trailed off, folding the aristocratic pieces of fabric into her robe before they continued further into the corridor. Of course, Sebastian empathized with how Beatrice survived a dragon attack, he just had to keep his mind from wandering anywhere else as the faint scent of berries that surrounded her seemed to have ingrained itself into his senses.

And just as they’d reached the end of the corridor leading to the only entryway on their left, Beatrice then stopped and stared at a seemingly blocked cavern straight ahead. Oh no, she isn’t thinking of—

“Incendio!” Beatrice had blasted at the blocks of wood and debris strong enough to ignite a forgotten torch, burning away tendrils of the deadly vine that surrounded where it hang by a post. “Seems the Devil’s Snare is protecting another chest of some kind…” Sebastian had yet to follow where Beatrice laid her sights on as his eyes remained rooted on the water between them and her coveted prize— more specifically, the writhing dark mass beneath that made the otherwise demonic plant, look absolutely diabolical underwater.

“Now, hang on for just a moment—” He started as Beatrice neared towards the water’s edge, “I was hoping Accio might help?”

“It won’t work. That chest looks heavy to force towards you, and with whatever Summoning spell you used in Hogsmeade, I doubt you’d want to risk anything of value that might be inside there.” Sebastian countered, not wanting to focus too much on how Beatrice bit on her lip in thought as he then proceeded to hand her his school robe, coat and vest.

“What in heaven’s— Sebastian—!” It was too dim to tell if Beatrice was blushing as he’d folded the cuffs of his shirt sleeves over his forearms, before he casted at the remaining unlit torches he’d spotted on the surrounding posts overlooking the water, “I’ll get it for you.”

Opting to keep his shoes on against whatever other things he might step on beneath the surface, it was too late for Sebastian to remember to brace himself against the cold of the water that reached up unto his shoulders. Despite that, he gritted his now slightly chattering teeth and trudged on, arm held up above his head as his wand illuminated the short stretch across.

The ice cold air that welcomed him once he surfaced was far worst though, forcing a cough out of him as he quickly made sure to clean out the chest’s contents— not bothering to assess it long enough— before he was back to treading across the water, comforted by the sight of Beatrice anxiously looking towards him whilst she had her arm stretched out over the water’s edge, the light from her wand almost like a beacon that guided his way back.

Before Sebastian had a chance to worry about looking like a soaked Crup puppy in front of Beatrice, the moment he finally surfaced, he was immediately met by a strong gust of warm air. Thankfully, it seems Beatrice was already familiar with the Hot Air Charm that made him quickly dry off before she’d hurriedly handed him his pieces of uniform, “Honestly Sebastian, that was reckless of you.” She’d grumbled, surprising him as she quickly righted his tie and assisted in buttoning up his vest the moment he put it on.

“Speak for yourself.” He couldn’t help but cheekily retort back, his smile freezing on his face as her intense green gaze looked up at him in clear defiance, “Did you at least find something you can use?”

“I— I went in and got it for you, you should wear it, here.” Sebastian almost stuttered as he proceeded to hand her the piece of fabric he’d found in the chest. With Beatrice’s gaze now pulled from him, he tried to calm himself by focusing on righting his sleeves and pulling his coat on— thinking that maybe prolonged exposure in her presence was starting to befuddle his mind.

“It’s a fine jumper, Sebastian. I think this would look great on you!” She’d exclaimed, holding it out close to him with both arms.

“Just because it’s mainly in my House colors and looks absolutely Scottish?” He shot her a teasing glance as he combed through his hair, trying to put a bit of semblance back to it.

“Well, you might need it for your next trip to Hogsmeade?” She was right though; Sebastian wasn’t quite fond of the mostly threadbare clothing his uncle would just usually hand him. “An otherwise uneventful trip to Hogsmeade, I hope?” He caved, gently taking the piece of clothing from her hands as he tucked it under his arm.

“I do suppose I owe you a Butterbeer for the trouble I caused you the first time we were there.” The sweet smile she flashed his way sent his heart racing for reasons other than the fact that they now ventured through a corridor infested with the Devil’s Snare— their footfalls creaking on the wooden floorboards as even the vines that hang from the ceiling slithered away from their wands’ light— before Sebastian caught sight of what they had been looking for from the start.

“I imagine a piece of that enormous Venomous Tentacula would be enough for Duncan to prove his bravery.” Before Sebastian could voice out his own opinion about her Housemate though, Beatrice then asked, “It’s the stationary type of the plant, isn’t it?” They quietly stopped by the poisonous plant, making sure to keep away from its two gaping huge mouths.

“Doesn’t make it any less dangerous.” Sebastian replied in a hush, rapidly thinking of ways to distract it for them to get closer when— “What are the chances they’d go for Lacewing Flies?” Beatrice had asked, already procuring a bottle from her robes.

“I read these plants mostly prefer Chizpurfles, but those are worth a try— better flies than our fingers in their mouths. Or worse.”

They watched in bated breath as the faint glow from the insects flew closer towards the Venomous Tentacula, and as soon as each mouth clamped shut around a cluster, Beatrice had quickly but quietly plucked away a huge leaf near its trunk, wisely backing away with her gaze still trained on the plant in case it would retaliate.

“I suppose now would be a best time than any to find our way out of here?” Sebastian felt the tension he’d been holding slowly subside as his shoulders relaxed.

“I couldn’t agree more, but not before getting at least a couple Galleons richer.” He’d followed her gaze then to the two slightly shining stacks of coins left on the table behind them, “You don’t suppose anyone would still come looking for them, would you?” Her gaze seemed to glimmer with mischief back at him, a corner of his lip twitching into a smile as he pocketed his share of Galleons— no matter how dusty, currency was still currency.

“I think it’s safe to suppose not, and I garner that ladder there might just lead us back to the school’s Greenhouses.” Sebastian nodded towards a darkened alcove filled with hanging pots, the tip of his wand’s light barely showing a silhouette of its rails leading up, “Go on, ladies first.” He couldn’t help urging Beatrice to a safer setting, still wary of the enormous poisonous plant that lay before them, though the next hurdle he had to face was focusing to keep his head down and away from Beatrice’s skirt as she started to climb up the aforementioned ladder.

“Would you happen to be free this weekend?” He honestly hadn’t known what had made him blurt out that question all of a sudden, as he waited by the ladder’s base.

“It depends really, if I’m not given any additional private lessons or assignments even during the weekend.” Sebastian heard her grunt a moment, pushing at the opening above the ladder, before a flood of sunlight had him squinting, “Why do you ask?” She asked a moment later as only her head peaked over from above, waiting for him to follow.

“I— It’s nothing, really…” He second-guessed himself in asking her, making his way up the ladder before he was greeted by her expectant smile once he had climbed out, “I… was actually wondering what you’d say to another trip to Hogsmeade this weekend?” He finally chose to ask.

“Not letting our extra Galleons line our pockets for much longer, are we?” She grinned back at him as he closed the trapdoor beneath them, anxiously waiting for her reply, “No matter the case, I’d surely make time for it, don’t worry.”

“It’s a date then! Like uhm, a study date— You know, where you can ask me any questions you may have about catching up…” Sebastian forced himself to stop then, before he could further turn into a blubbering mess.

“I’d love that, actually. Thank you, Sebastian, you’ve been helping me a lot.” Beatrice had smiled at him sweetly, and there it was again, feeling his heart skip a beat at seeing the faint blush that dusted her cheeks. “Now how about getting this leaf to Duncan first before a quick lunch at the Great Hall and everything else?”

Sebastian wasn’t quite sure then if he’d have just nodded in complete agreement to anything Beatrice had to say at the moment, though he was all too aware of the grin that split his face as he followed after her, as he looked forward to the weekend.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

It was a sunny day that afternoon in early September, though the breeze coming through the Black Lake made the air cool and the gentle waves that could be heard lapping at the nearby Boathouse almost managed to lull Beatrice into a nice nap following her rather eventful morning and the hearty lunch she just had from the Great Hall—

“Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” Came the teasing tone from her companion, to which Beatrice could only hum in acknowledgement as she let her eyes close a moment too long before she could respond, “I quite like this view, Sebastian, thank you.” It reminded her of days back in the convent when she’d sneak down the cliffs to swim by the sea…

“I’m curious though…” Sebastian’s voice had her blinking past her drowsiness as she leaned back onto the gazebo’s railings, tucking her legs beneath her on the stone bench where they sat, the open book on her lap failing to hold her attention for much longer.

“About…?” She’d rested her chin on her hand in an attempt to stifle a yawn, finding amusement instead in having had observed how Sebastian scribbled away at his Charms homework, the tip of his tongue peeking out in concentration just moments ago. There was something charming about him, truly. Beatrice just didn’t know what to make of the Slytherin as this was, by far, the longest time she’d spent in the company of any boy her age. Mother Superior would have surely scolded her ear off had she seen her now, unchaperoned, no less.

“You mentioned your… Nana, being the one who raised you to be aware of Magic— does that mean she was in Ravenclaw too?” Sebastian’s question seemingly chased away any thought of rest from her sleep-addled mind as Beatrice weighed her next words.

“I— assumed she was… She— never really talked much about herself before marrying my grandfather. I actually only have this to go by…” Beatrice then slowly pulled out a simple bronze locket, the eagle intricately engraved on its face seemed to be enough evidence to her claim. She never dared to wear it before though, only kept it close to her person in fear that any of the Sisters might catch a glimpse of the enchanted moving photographs inside…

“May I?” Sebastian had asked, clearly intrigued as he held a hopeful hand out. Why not? She supposed there was no real reason now to hide any magical object in a Wizarding school, after all. In fact, the only thing she had to keep from doing right now was giggling at Sebastian’s poorly concealed attempt to try and find any similarities she shared with the only photos she had of her Nana and mother.

She remembered her Nana having a sternness to her features, while fair for her age at the time the photo was taken, was held back by her hair always kept in a tight bun. A sharp nose only accentuating what Beatrice would recall to be a mostly solemn pair of blue eyes, that looked out from the monochrome photo— no trace of a smile but just tilting her face towards the camera.

Beatrice had sometimes caught a far-away look cast upon her Nana’s face, though she was never privy to her past in the Wizarding World, she doubted the older witch was anymore aware of such a thing called Ancient Magic... Her mother however was a curious case.

A young lady, no older than Beatrice, smiled gently back from the photograph, Roséline Hayes had a calmly face which was softly framed by pale wavy locks of hair— Beatrice had nothing to go by other than this photo, but she found her mother to be quite pretty. Nana had also once remarked with a wistful smile, how her mother took mostly after her grandfather, and seeing how Beatrice didn’t seem to have inherited the fairer features from her maternal side of the family, this only cemented the fact that she might have taken more after her faceless sire, only adding to her Nana’s additional grief.

“Have you tried asking your mentor about her? They may have been contemporaries during their time at Hogwarts?” Sebastian had asked further, turning the locket over as if he’d find any more than what only the pictures offered.

“Professor Fig doesn’t recall of an Aileen who looks like my Nana. Although admittedly a first name is not much to go by if I have no idea of the maiden name she used to carry before then…” She trailed of as if in afterthought, “But enough about me, what about your parents? Was any one of them sorted into Slytherin?” Beatrice hastily chose to change the topic then, reaching for the locket in Sebastian’s hands as she carefully pocketed it.

Her companion thankfully let the matter focus on him instead, almost bashfully rubbing at the nape of his neck before he responded, “Only my uncle actually. My father was a Gryffindor and mother was a Ravenclaw, wasn’t the least bit surprised when the Sorting Hat gave us options.” He paused then, as if hesitating what to say next, “But like I said, Anne made the decision for both of us when she decided to befriend Ominis and I followed suit. I garner it’s the same for your case?”

“Likewise. Though what you said about the Sorting Hat giving you options, had it also mentioned anything about Hufflepuff?” Beatrice did wonder about the fourth house decked in vibrant yellow.

“Ah, our friends who are loyal to a fault, with patience being their virtue. The Sorting Hat may have also mentioned something along those lines to me before…” Sebastian had chuckled as if in remembrance before casting her a teasing look, “But the way I see it, ironically goes against what we’re planning later tonight…”

Beatrice awoke to the insistent chuffs from Hermes as he pulled at the strands of her hair, she had to quietly wave him away as she blearily tried to make sense of how much time had passed when she looked towards the hourglass by her roommates’ side of shelves— thankful that it was a quieter way to track time as she mostly heard Constance’s and Samantha’s soft snores of sleep.

Stroking the heart shaped down that lined Hermes’ feathered face, Beatrice gave him his treat for dutifully waking her up as she had instructed him to, before she quietly pushed open her bedside window to let the barn owl fly off into the night. Casting one last look at the journal entry she’d made about the day, Beatrice silently slipped on her school robe as she carefully made her way out of their dorm room…

September 3, 1890

Professor Fig found a map that leads to something in the Restricted Section, but he was called away by the Headmaster before we could make any further plans. Had he not insisted I learn Incendio from Professor Hecat first, we could have already gone without a hitch, though learning a new spell is always a welcome challenge— as it turns out, spells used together in just the right way are more powerful than they are by themselves. Interestingly, Professor Hecat only taught me the Fire-making Spell after insisting I’d finish my second round at Crossed Wands first… Seems the unsanctioned duelling club isn’t as secret as it’s believed to be…

And my early morning didn’t stop there either, I’ve managed to find an excuse to explore parts of the castle by helping find Gobstones, chasing after flying keys and even following a Treasure Map! Hogwarts surely contains a seemingly infinite supply of surprises and mysteries waiting to be discovered, I hope to uncover more of them during my time here.

I’ve also managed to convince Sebastian to help sneak me into the Restricted Section tonight, amusing though how this won’t be the first adventure I’ve had with him for today as Sebastian had also accompanied me in the Hidden Herbology Corridor to collect a Venomous Tentacula leaf for my classmate, Duncan, but I doubt it will convince others of his bravery— Much like I doubt what I’d end up finding in the Library later…

Keeping her footfalls light as she made her way up the wooden stairs and into the Common Room, Beatrice had only just passed by the armory guarding the staircase to the girls’ dorms when she’d then heard footsteps coming down from the stairs behind her. Thinking to back away further into the adjoined room by the fireplace, Beatrice held back a gasp as a hand came out to cover her mouth from behind, gently guiding her to crouch by a wooden trophy case beside the entryway curtain.

It wasn’t until the dim lighting had shown who it was did Beatrice try to even out her breathing, nodding as the other had raised a finger to his lips, motioning her to keep quiet before he’d let go of her as he stood straight and acted like he was just about to round the corner meeting the approaching footsteps, “Larson, all clear here?” Beatrice now recognized the haughty voice that spoke up first.

“Yes, and I’d also checked outside for anyone who couldn’t answer the riddle before curfew.” She saw Andrew reply lightly from her vantage point, not risking to confirm the identity of the other boy he was talking to.

“Can’t have the moonminds costing us more House points, after all.” A scoff, before the other had continued, “That gives me an excuse to use the Floo Flames then, you’re sure you aren’t coming to the Prefects’ Bath tonight? I heard some ladies were actually expecting you.” Beatrice couldn’t help but raise her brows in intrigue upon hearing the last part being said.

“I’d rather not, Fawley. Someone needs to wait for our Housemates to get back from their Astronomy class.”

“Suit yourself. Got the pick of the crop yet you’d rather be the nice lad that finishes last.” Their upperclassman left with a taunting laugh before the whoosh of the Flames had signaled Fawley’s departure.

Beatrice had watched Andrew’s tense posture slowly relax before she’d slowly straightened from her hiding spot and moved closer to him, “So… Popular with the ladies, I hear.” She’d tried for a lighter approach, but Andrew only frowned further as he shook his head, “It’s like an initiation for the new Prefects for the year actually, not quite the type of crowd I’d find myself fond of, really.”

It was his turn then to raise his brows, “But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook too easily.” Crossing his arms, Andrew now regarded her fully, “Please tell me you aren’t off to another Hidden Corridor or whatnot for the sake of another’s trivial sense of worth.”

“I see you’ve also heard about that then…” Beatrice may have caught wind as to what happened after she’d given Duncan his “proof of courage”, though the bespectacled boy had been wise enough to steer clear of her after making such comments about Blood statuses of all things.

“Turned him into a right prat, that he did— all bark and now would probably bite too. Will most likely have to intervene these days once Everett decides to snatch that damn leaf out of Hobhouse’s pillow.” Andrew rubbed at his temple, clearly looking troubled with the situation that Beatrice now felt quite remorseful, she had unwittingly caused it after all.

“I’d have to apologize Andrew, but I really need to go tonight, it’s… actually for myself this time— I promise to make it up to you in some way… Please?”

“I see, well...” He gave her a look as if in utter concentration before sighing, “Would it trouble you to grace me with your time this weekend on a trip to Hogsmeade then?”

That made her blink, she had already made plans to go there with Sebastian this weekend, so it definitely wouldn’t hurt to bring another friend along, “Of course, I’d be happy to.”

“Great! Then might I suggest using the Floo on your way out?” She watched as he gave a quick glance to the nearby grandfather clock before decisively saying, “Drop by at the one near the Divination Classroom and carefully make your way down the spiral staircase once there, it’d be a safer way to get to the Central Hall from here.”

“What—?” Before Beatrice could question how exactly Andrew would know where she was planning to meet Sebastian for the night, the blond was already quickly guiding her towards Ignatia Wildsmith’s bust, his last words of advice only intriguing her more before the Flames had engulfed her.

“And Beatrice, try to put your trust in people more, alright?

Trust. Sebastian had really found it surprising that Professor Weasley had entrusted him with escorting his new classmate only yesterday, but then again, wasn’t it Beatrice herself that requested his company? And here he was again, having been the one she first thought of to ask in accompanying her in this curious search… He wondered what it really was she’d be looking for down there in those dusty shelves of books— most of which Sebastian himself had scoured over in his search of a possible cure for Anne’s curse.

It was obvious Beatrice was keeping something big from him— no matter how confused she was on casting that powerful blast of magic yesterday, Sebastian was sure it somehow related to why that goblin had Rookwood chasing after them in The Three Broomsticks. He’d risk assuming that Beatrice saw him as someone reliable at this point, but he needed to give her a reason to trust him with her secrets…

Sebastian thought this through silently as he just about relaxed his arms on the balustrade behind him when a flutter of robes caught his eye and there, silently making her way down towards him, was the subject of his current dilemma— the dim light silhouetting her form seemed to give her an even more enigmatic approach to which he’d felt his heart skip a beat, again. Sebastian tried to brush it off by smiling teasingly her way as he raised a finger to his lips, motioning for Beatrice to quietly come over to where he stood, “See there? That’s the door that we need to reach.” He nodded towards the Library’s left entryway, “And those annoying prefects would love nothing more than to rat on us to Scribner, so don’t let them see us— understood?”

“I can be sneaky. Let’s go.” She’d responded with such contained enthusiasm that Sebastian had to hold back a chuckle.

“Hold on now. There’s a spell you should know— the Disillusionment Charm. Good for getting places you’re not supposed to be. Cast it, and you’ll appear as little more than a trick of the light. Just as long as you keep your distance and stay quiet.”

“You mean I’ll actually be able to turn invisible?” Her eyes seemed to gleam like emeralds now as Sebastian watched her excitement form.

“Something like that. It’s not as foolproof as a cloak, but those are expensive. And spells— spells are free. Give it a try.” He wasn’t sure if this was one of the spells Fig had at least taught Beatrice over the summer, but Sebastian made sure to slowly show her the proper wand movement before he’d cast the Disillusionment on himself.

And while Sebastian wasn’t surprised at her getting it at the first cast, he had raised an eyebrow— or two— at observing how easily Beatrice even incorporated the use of Basic Cast to distract the prefects away from their respective posts. She really is good at being sneaky… He’d thought in amusement though remained quiet as a Jobberknoll following after her down the stairs leading into the Library.

It wasn’t until they entered though that Sebastian kept himself from bumping into Beatrice, “Blast. The librarian’s still here. Quick, behind the bookcase.” He’d grabbed at what he assumed to be part of her sleeve but was momentarily shocked to be met with the warmth of her hand, but he instinctively held onto her tighter as he pulled her into hiding before they’d cast off their Disillusionment.

“Damn.” Sebastian couldn’t help but curse quietly as he looked past the bookcase’s corner.

“You told me the librarian would be gone by now.” Beatrice hissed anxiously at him.

“I said ‘usually’, but it’ll still be all right. Do you see her desk behind me?” At seeing her terse nod in response, Sebastian had calmly continued instructing, “The key is in the drawer of that desk. Now, here’s what we’re going to do: I’ll create a distraction to draw her away, while you focus on getting the key. I’ll meet you outside the Restricted Section.” He’d finished, nodding over to the fenced-off area of the Library.

“Wait, why do we need a key? Isn’t there a spell for this?”

Sebastian met Beatrice’s obvious question with an almost sheepish look before answering, “Alohamora? That’s how I always used to get in, but the librarian twigged that I knew the spell and cast an Anti-Alohamora charm on the lock. So now it’s just this key.” Shrugging as he met Beatrice’s troubled look, he quickly tried to alleviate her worries, “But don’t worry. I said I’d get you in, and I always keep my word. Trust me.”

He felt her hand squeeze his back in understanding after he’d assured her, only now noticing that he’d been holding her hand all this while, “You distract; I get the key. Understood.” The way she’d gazed back into his eyes had him quickly pulling his hand away from her, hoping he’d cast his Disillusionment fast enough that she hadn’t noticed the way his face seemingly burned up. Sebastian attributed his racing heart to adrenaline as he quickly searched for a way to lure Scribner away from her desk, focusing on a chair as he quietly murmured Confringo to blow it up into smithereens.

“Is someone there? Is that you, Peeves?”

Now sure to have caught Scribner’s attention, Sebastian hastily drew away from the mess he’d made and anxiously waited for Beatrice by the locked entryway to the Restricted Section, hoping she really was as sneaky as he first observed her to be— “That wasn’t so difficult after all.” He relaxed somewhat upon glimpsing Beatrice’s shimmering silhouette cast in Disillusionment, quickly but quietly unlocking the gate, “Now, to find that book.”

Upon entering, Sebastian curiously observed as Beatrice’s silhouette quickly pilfered through a chest by the corner of the staircase after she’d murmured Revelio, only stopping her when she’d tried to reach for a book on their way down, “That one’s charmed to look more useful than it is. It’s fooled me twice. Never judge a tome by its cover, I say.”

“A tome had floated out of Scribner’s desk when I was getting the key. Thought for a moment it’d scream bloody murder when I saw my name on its page.”

“Ah, that would be the Book of Records, keeps every borrowed book in check— even the Restricted ones. Did you ask it for the title you’re looking for?”

“I actually don’t—"

Sebastian had to interrupt Beatrice as he quickly pulled her back towards him before they rounded the corner on the next floor down, “Ghost. Don’t let her see you.” He’d whispered, only then inadvertently realizing he’d grabbed her by the waist as he tried to get his mind to focus on making a distraction, but Beatrice beat him to it by casting at an armor across the room. He didn’t have time to wince at the noise that might even attract Scribner’s attention from upstairs, because Beatrice had now grabbed him by his hand and was swiftly leading them past the ghosts.

“Should be in the clear now. No need for us to be skulking about.” He’d huffed out a breath as they descended, casting off his Disillusionment before Beatrice followed suit, a dazzling flush evident on her cheeks as she smiled at him with barely contained excitement from their shared rush of adrenaline.

“So… What is it you’ve been looking for?” She’d asked in a hesitant tone as they continued their way down the stairs, seemingly not wanting to prod, but Sebastian had by now expected her to ask him that at one point. He thought on his response though, not wanting to see the usual look of sympathy being cast his way, especially from her who he felt the need to impress…

Waiting after she’d murmured a Revelio upon the section they’d just entered, Sebastian settled on giving her a vague but truthful answer, “I’m looking for a cure to help my twin sister, Anne— so that she can return to Hogwarts. Because Merlin knows everyone else has given up.” He’d waited then to see how she’d respond, dreading she’d only look back at him with pity evident in her green gaze, but instead she’d looked up from her Field Guide to cast him a look of confusion.

“Why do you think you’ll find a cure in the Restricted Section? Does the Hogwarts matron have nothing that can help Anne?” This was a start. She hadn’t dismissed his plight with baseless words of comfort, in fact, she even sounded like she’d taken his words in disbelief as she continued to search the area they were in.

“No. We’ve tried everyone from Nurse Blainey to St. Mungo’s.” He tried to explain, watching with a hint of curiosity as she’d pulled out a jangling pouch of what looked like Galleons from a chest she’d opened, “But I can research on my own. No need to concern yourself with that right now. Let’s focus on what you’re after. Which is what, precisely?” Sebastian pushed the pouch of coins back towards her as she tried to offer it to him in full.

“I’ll know it when I see it.” She’d countered just as vaguely, counting the pouch’s contents before she seemed to pocket a portion of it then insistently pushed the rest into Sebastian’s hands.

“You’re being awfully cryptic.” He’d caved, not wanting to push back but equally just as frustrated, despite having accepted the pouch of coins she’d offered.

All Sebastian could do for now was silently watch over Beatrice as she gleaned pass books, skimming through titles and tapping on the ones he’d assumed might have caught her interest— the latest causing him to raise an eyebrow, “Secrets of the Darkest Arts? I’m impressed.”

He caught himself from saying more though as he carefully eyed Beatrice’s reaction to his comment— half expecting a disapproving look from her— yet she only stared at the tome a second longer, expression unreadable, before moving away. Interesting was one thing, but now Sebastian had to wonder just how open Beatrice was to learning a few darker spells— something told him she’d need it…

Entering a door in the backmost part of the room, Sebastian kept his eyes about, he always thought this area to be just a place of storage for the whole Library, he’d doubt Beatrice would find anything worthwhile here. Though he began to second guess himself after she’d cast another Revelio upon the room, before heading towards what looked to be a chest just inconspicuously placed on a tabletop.

More miniature than the previous ones he’d seen her pilfer through, Sebastian couldn’t help the look of disbelief on his face upon seeing the wand handle Beatrice had pulled out— there illuminated by the nearby desk lamp was a handle that looked to be exactly like his own! “Would you look at that… might just as well be the original piece, don’t you think?” He’d murmured, still not quite sure himself.

“I didn’t think I would take you seriously the first time you mentioned these wand handles back in Hogsmeade, but this is my 4^th find, so what are 38 more? Might as well make space for this collection, won’t you agree?” Beatrice’s lighthearted tone only left Sebastian more flabbergasted.

“I’m sorry, did you say 4^th? Wherever did you find the previous ones, if I may so ask?”

“I found my 2^nd one in a similar chest much like this in Professor Fig’s classroom, though the other two were given more as thanks from Cressida Blume and Zenobia Noke after I’d— well, assisted them in recovering some personal belongings of theirs…” She’d replied almost sheepishly.

Before Sebastian could ask her more about it though, he was quick to pull Beatrice behind him as a nearby hanging armor came crashing beside them. The thunderous clashing of metals was enough to make them hold their breaths as Sebastian waited to expect the worst, their shaky exhales the only thing that could be heard between them. He waited seconds before deciding to cast Reparo but was all too suddenly interrupted by a malignant entity popping through the bookshelf right across from them.

“Who have we here? Sebastian Sallow and his new little friend, out exploring where they shouldn’t be!” Came the shrill voice, mocking them by even waving a finger in front of their faces, “Naughty naughty, you’ll get caughty!”

“Peeves, don’t you—” Sebastian’s voice was merely cut off by the nasty poltergeist’s incessant yammering whilst floating away, “I’m going to tell! I’m going to tell! I’m going to tell!”

“Blasted Peeves. I’ve got to stop him, or at least get to the librarian with a good excuse for all of this.” He grumbled, pulling away from his hold on Beatrice as he was about to hunt down the annoying fiend, when he felt a firm tug on his robe sleeve.

“Wait. I— don’t want you getting into trouble for me.” She’d look at him then, a troubled expression clear on her face as she gazed up at him, seeming unsure. Did she doubt he’d be able to handle this predicament or maybe she was wary that he’ll blame this all on her?

“I have a way with the faculty when it comes to disciplinary matters. Besides— I like having friends who are in my debt.” Sebastian chose to teasingly assuage her on both accounts, “Now, go. Good luck with your search.” He offered her an encouraging smile before turning away, off on a search of his own as he couldn’t help but grumble, “Now, where has that damned poltergeist got to?”

If his memory served him well, Sebastian did hear Peeves boisterously chanting about being trapped and confined in a jar once, and while he might be tempted to do just about that to the poltergeist, Sebastian dreaded the thought that he’d ultimately get expelled from Hogwarts after the chaos it’d most likely cause. He doubted even Ominis could save his hair after that— and although he had an inkling his friend knew where Sebastian was off to again, the sightless blond had absolutely no idea that Sebastian would not be going alone tonight on another trip to the Restricted Section.

Having found it already suspicious that even the couple of screeching ghosts were now gone from their posts on his way up, Sebastian thought it wise to keep himself under his Disillusionment as he maintained a peripheral view of the Library from the upper floor. Choosing to position himself away from The Old Librarian’s portrait, Sebastian crouched by the balustrades’ edge as he mulled over the most effective Silencing Charm he could use on Peeves— he had doubts if Oscausi would work on making an incorporeal being’s mouth disappear, but perhaps a simple Silencio might work—

“Guess who’s in the Restricted Section, asking for another round of detention? Of course, it’s none other than Sebastian Sallow, but can you guess the other fellow?”

Damn. Sebastian watched with growing dread as he saw Peeves finally come out of hiding, trying to catch Scribner’s attention, though since the garishly dressed ghoul was more known for his penchant for causing mischief and mayhem, the old witch hadn’t paid Peeves much mind at first. Thinking fast, Sebastian cast at the nearest object between the Library’s shelves on the lower floor where the poltergeist was weaving through— he needed to stall Peeves there long enough to shut him up.

Swiftly but silently taking the spiral stairs down, Sebastian kept a mocking interval of casting on random objects to make it sound like Peeves was the one causing all the ruckus, while also keeping the poltergeist distracted enough away from Scribner.

“What mess are you causing again now, Peeves?!” Scribner’s shriek sounded close enough that it jolted his focus from his Disillusionment and caused Sebastian to miss casting the Silencing Charm on the poltergeist by a mere good millimeter, which only resulted with Peeves weaving around him mockingly before—

“Sneaking in the Restricted Section— again!” Scribner now shrieked from behind Sebastian as he turned to face her, “I had thought we were through with this mischief. Clearly detentions are insufficient. I’m afraid I must take this to the Headmaster.”

Sebastian felt his blood chill then, about to make her see reason, “But—”

“That being said, Peeves informs me that you didn’t come alone tonight.” Scribner interrupted him, not wanting to hear any more excuses as she set a piercing look on her weathered face, “If someone has coerced you, I would have you tell me.”

For a moment, Sebastian glared at Peeves’ gloating smile before trying to meet the Madam’s stare, though he quickly had to look down in fear that she might notice his worried expression wasn’t exactly for himself but for someone else’s safety…

“You’re a bright boy. Don’t waste this.”

He remembered Beatrice’s almost searching gaze as she looked up at him, unsure, before they’d parted ways. Sebastian just realized what had crossed her mind then, but he now knew how he was going to answer if he was planning to win Beatrice’s trust. “There was nobody else. I came alone.” He’d met Scribner’s gaze then, straightening his shoulders as his voice answered with clear certainty.

“Oh, Sebastian.” The expected look of disappointed on her face came as no surprise to Sebastian as she tutted at him, “What will your uncle say?” The mention of his uncle as Scribner walked away made dread settle in the pit of his stomach, enough to not even care as Peeves blew a raspberry to his face.

Just as he was about to follow the librarian out to be escorted by the Prefects back to his Common Room though, Sebastian spotted the telltale flutter of cobalt blue robes moving away from a lower bookcase. He was glad to know Beatrice would get out of here safe, especially is she used the Library’s Floo Flame back to her tower, Sebastian just hoped she didn’t get into more trouble after this…

Addendum:

I discovered an ancient magic portal that led me to a hidden antechamber. There were Pensieve Paladins there who attacked me, but I managed to destroy them all before I found what looks to be an ancient tome. I'm sure Professor Fig will know what it is but... Sebastian got caught by the librarian after Peeves gave us away – but he didn't turn me in...? He'll seem to be in more trouble now than his previous detentions I— I need to help him, somehow— I'm really sorry Sebastian... you're a good and loyal friend.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

“You should smile more often, it’ll help bring a shine to those pretty eyes.”

My hands stopped mid-brush through fiery locks as I gazed back at the smiling face through the mirror, the open trust in those deep blue irises made my heart ache.

“The only one who needs to be pretty between the two of us is you, my lady.” A most improper snort was what I got for my remark, as I now started braiding her hair.

“How many times have I told you to just refer to me by my name, Beatrice?”

“Alright then, if you insist, then it’s time for bed Cassidy.” I held back the bubble of laughter that threatened to spill from me as Cassidy stood up with an indignant huff, the pout that soon showed on her face failing to make her anymore intimidating.

“Now, using my name to order me around is just not fair!”

“To be fair, Cassidy, it’s to lighten those dark circles under your eyes you’ve been complaining about these days.”

“That’s something that might take a while, but at least I’ve accomplished in lightening up your mood for now instead.” It was only then did I notice that I was smiling back at her as Cassidy beamed back at me, reaching out to hold my hands in her softer ones, “Out of all the other girls they could have assigned to care for me, I’m glad it’s you Beatrice.”

“I don’t think there’s any point in you practicing with that particular sword anymore.”

The cool sweat that covered me seemed to numb my aching limbs upon hearing the snide remark, slowly lowering the weapon I was holding against the training dummy, “Cecilia, it’s been a while.”

“You, will address me as Sister Cecilia— and most likely in a few months as Joan. Tell me, was it really worth it to throw away your esteemed rank in the Sisterhood just for that runaway, hm?”

Bristling, I kept my voice even, “We both know Ophelia’s body showed marks of abuse, she wasn’t trying to run away, she was ambushed. There’s someone picking off our girls here in Dover and that perpetrator is still out there!”

“Your partner just wasn’t prepared for the world out there, and she sold herself until she was no longer useful.” She’d scoffed at me, taking advantage of my emotional state as Cecilia swiped my sword from me, “Much like how you were only favored when your grand-aunt was alive.”

The tip of my blade she now raised was cool against my neck, I could only gaze back at her in contained contempt as I let her continue her tirade, “But the new Mother Superior was right in demoting you to a mere handmaiden now. In a few months time, you might as well contribute to our convent earning a pretty penny once you’re married off to whichever hapless fool who wouldn’t care about your upbringing— fatherless, born out of wedlock— AHH!!”

Cecilia’s shocked screech echoed around the convent’s open courtyard as she now stood drenched – the white of her veil clinging to blonde wisps of hair. My gaze then focused on the perpetrator as Cassidy dropped a wooden bucket to the cobblestoned floor, “You take that back!” She’d demanded indignantly, in all her fiery elegance.

“Why you little—!”

My body moved on its own, grasping Cecilia’s elbow just as she charged towards Cassidy, my leg hooking behind hers to make her fall to the ground. The smooth hilt of my sword now a familiar comfort back in my hand, yet it felt wrong as I pointed the gleaming tip of it at Cecilia’s vulnerable neck.

“You mustn’t forget our oath, Cecilia. We show mercy to others who don’t find it outside these walls.”

I plunged the sword beside where her head lay to put an end to this petty argument— there was no point in hanging onto sentimentality when it would only cause further strife in the Sisterhood—

“What is this commotion about?!”

Stepping in front of Cassidy to shield her from Mother Superior’s wrath, I felt her dainty hands clench onto one of my own from behind, they were shaking as I quietly observed Cecilia now slowly stand up— her contained look of contempt not directed at me but to my charge.

“It was my fault, Mother Superior.” A heavy pause surrounded the courtyard as the older woman’s gaze settled on me, “Sister Cecilia pointed out that I should no longer be in possession of the St. Catherin but knowing that it was bestowed to me by my grand-aunt— the late Mother Superior— well I… let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Well, indeed…” I felt Cecilia’s gaze now focused on me, but I spared her no glance as Mother Superior came to a decision, “I will have the Sword of St. Catherin confiscated from your care and will entrust it to Sister Cecilia until further notice, and as for your punishment for displaying such uncouth behavior— especially in the presence of your charge…”

The soft sob that came from behind me had me squeezing Cassidy’s now cold hands, silently urging her to keep quiet, if just this once—

“I understand, Mother Superior. I’ll take responsibility for my momentary lost in judgement.”

Gingerly, I sat on my bed— my arms now felt like they were burning from being outstretched out in the cool night air for long, though my knees weren’t any better as I was made to kneel on pebbled ground, all while balancing a dozen Bibles— 6 on each arm— for my punishment this late afternoon. Fortunately, I still had time to prepare my charge for bed.

Taking a steadying breath, I prepared to stand when the adjoining door that connected my room to Cassidy’s slowly opened and in she entered as she precariously balanced a tray with both hands, making me hiss at her in alarm, “Cassidy! What in heaven’s name—"

“You missed dinner.” She’d said resolutely, successfully managing to place the tray on my bedside table before she was urging me to lean back on my bed, “Let me take care of you, just this once.” She left no room for arguments as she held the spoon of what looked to be potato chowder near my lips, and so I complied, sure that the warmth I felt seeping through my chest wasn’t just because of the hearty soup.

It wasn’t until after Cassidy had also assisted in putting salve on my bruises as she helped me to bed did I grasp her slightly shaking hands in mine, “You have nothing to worry about, you’re still a daughter of a viscount, Cassidy. They wouldn’t dare harm a single strand on your hair.

“Still… When I leave this place, I want you to come with me, Beatrice.” The pleading look she gave me then still caused my heart to ache in guilt.

“Is this what you actually meant when you spoke about leaving this place?” I asked almost incredulously, though Cassidy’s sitting form had yet to meet my gaze, “A year. You were supposed to be under my protection for a year now and I am only finding out about… this???” I gestured at the secret correspondences she’d just now divulged to me as I stood to pace in the privacy of her room.

“His name is Seamus Eagan, he’s the reason why my father sent me here in the first place.” Cassidy now started speaking quietly, “Once I turn 16 in a month’s time, the viscount will marry me off me to one of his associates, despite just being a result from an affair, he still sees me as a pawn to widen his own social standing—  Please Beatrice, please understand…”

I couldn’t bear to watch the silent tears streaking down her face, focusing instead on her hands that were gently placed over her lower abdomen, “And since when was your… condition?”

“Sometime during May…”

Letting out a long breath, I tried to compose myself as I closed my eyes, my hands tugging at my braided hair while I racked my brain on what happened just over a month ago— The festival in town that Cassidy had wanted to sneak out to see, I lost sight of her then but— it doesn’t matter now, does it? This was still ultimately my fault.

“I plan to leave in a fortnight. I – just ought you to know so… you don’t have to put your own plans on hold for me…”

Taking a sharp intake of breath, I levelled Cassidy with a steady glance at what she just told me, the touch of betrayal I felt must have been evident on my face as she hurriedly reassured me, “I was never planning to tell anyone, Beatrice! You can trust me. It’s just that… I was hoping you’d leave with me – I’m certain Seamus can secure you a ticket to France after our wedding…”

She’d look up at me with such hope and vulnerability then as she worried her fingers into the lace of her day gown that I couldn’t help but grasp her hands in mine to still them, kneeling on the carpeted floor beside where she sat, surprising even myself at how my voice didn’t even quiver in reply, “As if I could even live with the thought of letting you go by yourself. You’re my charge, of course I’ll go with you.”

The embrace she’d wrapped me in thereafter had me feeling a weight being lifted off my shoulders as I let a smile grace my face. If this was the path laid out for me to dedicate hereon, then maybe France could wait, I now had no reason to feel guilty for myself.

“You’re not really going out there with just that, are you?”

I cursed under my breath, steadying Cassidy on her feet just as I assisted her off the stone ledge, before pulling her close to me as I glared up at the source of the voice.

“Cecilia.” Hoping I didn’t say out her name in spite, I felt Cassidy tense behind me as she anxiously grabbed my hand, now opting to calmy reason with her, “Please, let us go quietly—”

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to stop you from leaving, I just thought you’d might need this.”

Swiftly raising my arm to catch whatever it was she might have thrown; I was surprised to feel the familiar weight of a sheathed sword, its ivory smooth hilt enough to identify it as the St. Catherin. I made it obvious how I looked back at her warily then, wondering how this could even benefit Cecilia.

“Stealing from the convent? All the more reason to give the Sisterhood grounds not to accept you back.” The sickly-sweet smile she had initially cast me turned into a scathing look, “I wouldn’t be settling being second best to you anymore.”

I holstered my sword over a shoulder, making sure it was well-hidden beneath my cloak, accepting the fall Cecilia planned for me to take, “After all these years serving under St. Margaret’s… It wasn’t my intention to make you feel that way—”

“Pride is a deadly sin, Beatrice. It’d do you well to realize how you’re always trying to… compensate for something— much like what you’re doing right now.”

Cassidy had now started tugging at my arm just as Cecilia’s gaze settled on her with an unreadable expression. There was no more time to talk, nor ask any more questions. With a final glance at the place that housed me for nearly the past four years, I turned my back away— I would have spent my 15^th there in a few days’ time.

The white cliffs behind us stood like sentinels that guarded any noise we made along the shingle beach’s coast, the bay water lapping on the shore was usually enough to clear my mind, but tonight I felt tense, mainly maintaining my focus on Cassidy as she nearly braced on her toes with unbridled excitement. I watched the rowboat coming towards us as I also carefully eyed the schooner it came from in the distance, the cloudy night sky concealed any hint of identification from its sails fluttering from the two masts—

“Seamus!” Cassidy had already leapt into the arms of this unknown man before I could instinctively pull her to a proper distance, instead eyeing the other two men that accompanied him in this retrieval.

“My sweet rose, fate has finally allowed us to be together. But here I thought you would be alone?”

He’d referred to my presence then as I also got a good look at him – a trader he was, from what Cassidy had said, encountering him only after a transaction with her father fell through – I frowned at the thought that he might as well have taken advantage of her, what with him being several ages older and the recent tryst he coaxed Cassidy into.

“I mentioned Beatrice to you before, haven’t I? Asked if you had any contacts that could help her in France.”

“Is that where she wants to go? Well, that can always be arranged.” He’d stepped away from Cassidy then, pebbles crunching under his boots as he neared me, “It’s a delight to finally put a face to a name.” He’d held a hand out in a gentleman’s greeting to which I hesitantly accepted.

The clouds parted then, enough to cast moonlight upon the coast as my eye caught the glint coming from his signet ring and I felt my hand freeze near his lips upon recognizing its symbol, realization hitting me like a cold wave at what he’d said next, “You’ll surely make for quite the bidding.”

As if on cue, one of his men grabbed me from behind, about to put a cloth over my mouth but I put him off balance by pushing my weight on him to lift both my legs, kicking the second man coming close straight to his chest. Hold on me loosening as we both hit the rocky shore, I was just about to rush towards Cassidy’s now confused screaming, when her lover used her against me.

“Not another step!” Cassidy’s screaming turned into a horrified sob as he held her close in front of him, a dagger pointed dangerously close to her belly.

Gritting my teeth, I barely had time to think of my next course of action before something had harshly hit my head and everything went dark.

Beatrice still felt a phantom throbbing in her head as she stumbled out of bed earlier that morning, deciding against drinking another batch of Wiggenweld as she’d done last night. She had hoped her suddenly vivid dreams could be easily washed away by cold water as she pulled away from the sink, jolting away from the ghostly form of the Grey Lady who just so happened to occupy the otherwise empty Girls’ Bathroom this early hour.

Despite the concept of seeing ghosts in the first place still being new to Beatrice, she managed a polite nod in greeting to her House Founder’s daughter, who in turn only stared at her with that same unnerving look she’d cast after the Sorting Ceremony before the Lady then drifted away. Beatrice shook her head to make sense of the day, firstly she had to talk to Professor Fig.

The castle was still in the process of waking up as Beatrice made her way over to the D.A.D.A. Tower, curfew had ended minutes ago yet it was still a bit early for breakfast. She let her footsteps echo on the marble floors as her troubled mind wandered, too preoccupied that she’d made a lapse in decorum when she’d accidentally just let herself into Professor Fig’s office, causing her to further pause at the door’s entryway upon hearing the matter being discussed.

“You cannot be serious. Goblins working with Rookwood? Makes no sense.”

Beatrice remembered this man to be one of the professors she’d spied at the Sorting Ceremony, though she had yet to attend whatever subject he was handling.

“It is – rather unorthodox, to say the least.”

“Unorthodox? It’s inconceivable. It’s –” The other professor paused, now aware of her presence as she tensed under his scrutiny, slightly wincing as another painful throb washed over her head, “— ah, Fig. You have a visitor. I’ll see what I can find out.” With a passing disgruntled sound, the professor made his way out, the limp on his steps not going unnoticed by Beatrice as she lowered her head apologetically for having interrupted whatever discussion he was having with her mentor.

Only after having made sure that the door had properly shut closed behind her did she venture further inside, Professor Fig greeting her with a smile, though she noted it to be a weary one. She supposed she could make her confession quick, “Sir – I was able to search the Restricted Section while you were with Professor Black. It was a book we were after.”

“What? That’s – wait. You accessed the Restricted Section? But how –?” Beatrice breathed in, quite prepared to explain herself when— “Thinking on it, perhaps it’s best you spare me the details.” The older man had sighed in resignation, as if having expected her to do just that in the first place.

A small smile graced her own lips as Beatrice let out a breath in relief, for a moment she’d expected to be grossly reprimanded, “Fair enough. In fact, the book was below the Restricted Section, as it appeared on the map.”

“I want to hear everything. First, let’s have a look!”

Though she’d cursed herself inwardly once they realized the mysterious book was missing some pages – sore and left in disbelief from the unexpected fight she faced in the Athenaeum, while also being racked with worry for Sebastian last night before restless sleep could consume her – it had completely slipped Beatrice’s mind to read any of the book’s contents.

She was also more than eager to recount the memories she’d seen from the Pensieve after, feeling less alone with the knowledge that there were others like her who possessed this form of Magic in the past, she’d very much like to learn how to safely hone this supposedly ancient ability.

“I’ll have to take this book with me to London. The Headmaster has insisted that I speak directly to the Minister about George’s death.”

“What will you tell them about Mr. Osric’s death?” Beatrice solemnly asked, the vicious dragon attack sure to be one that’ll haunt her memories, it was the first time she’d seen such a gruesome death up close.

“I don’t know how much I dare say. George tried to convince the Ministry about Ranrok – but to no avail.” She sensed a wave of barely contained grief, silently observing Fig shake his head as if in afterthought, “My instinct is to follow the path we are on for the moment and keep the details to ourselves until we know more.”

“I understand. I’ll see what I can learn about the missing pages while you’re gone. Also, professor, I’ve earned a few Galleons from… helping others here. If you could have this exchanged and sent to her care?” Beatrice procured the jangling pouch of coins which she’d placed on Fig’s table.

“What did I teach you about saving and spending your Galleons on yourself?” He’d given her a stern look but quickly sighed as his expression softened, “What happened to Cassidy after that incident wasn’t your fault, dear.” Beatrice looked down then, inhaling a shaky breath as she’d felt her throat tighten.

“I’ll drop by to check how she’s doing, but the rest of this I’ll be saving alongside what your Nana left you.” Fig raised an eyebrow as he pocketed the pouch, his warm smile expressing that he wasn’t the least bit cross with her, “You have enough pocket money with you on a trip to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“I do, sir. Please don’t worry about it.” Beatrice would rather not ask anything more from the kindly old man.

“Good. Don’t neglect your studies. Your wandwork is improving by the day, and even though your Flight class is moved to tomorrow due to Kogawa being at the Department of Magical Games and Sports – you’ll want to pay attention in Herbology and Potions. There’s more to magic than spell-casting.”

“Plenty to keep me occupied while you’re gone.”

“You’ve done exceptionally well. I look forward to seeing all that you’ve accomplished when I return on Saturday’s eve, at the most. Oh – and don’t neglect your friends. You may be surprised by how much you can learn from them as well.”

She bit her lip then in hesitance, since Fig had brought up the matter of friends – “There’s actually one last thing I wanted to ask before you leave, professor… As you know, I did request a friend’s assistance in guiding me through the Restricted Section and well… I got him in trouble, sir – I heard Scribner plan to tell the Headmaster…” Beatrice trailed off, not wanting to expect the worst for Sebastian.

“Surely he’ll only get detention but pulling Mr. Sallow out of such is like asking fire not to burn – although I guess with magic that could be remedied – much like Black owes me somewhat for going on this trip quite abruptly.”

“I – hadn’t even said who it was just yet?” She’d blinked at her mentor in surprise, only being met with a knowing smile in return.

“There’s been talk in the Faculty since last night on who would ever get into detention on their first week back in Hogwarts, and with an offense of sneaking into the library’s Restricted Section no less. I can’t say it took me by surprise, though knowing you were the one to initiate it due to my otherwise preoccupation, I can say I could pull a few strings to lighten his load, so to speak.” Fig gave her a conspiratorial wink which made Beatrice’s shoulders relax as she breathed out a sigh in relief.

“Charming young man, Mr. Sallow. Little mischievous, but a talented wizard nonetheless.” He’d added in afterthought as a quill and pad of paper magically appeared at his side as Fig stood to arrange his things, “Now due to the recent attack, the Ministry deemed it unwise to send a carriage for me, instead I actually have an appointment to a Portkey that will deliver me straight there, so I need to make this Letter of Excuse quick.”

Fig proceeded to mumble some words which the quill was quickly taking note of all whilst levitating some of his things into a single suitcase, “There, I never could find the time to arrange all the books here anyhow, the Madam will also surely agree to have those books stacked by the doorway be put away too. But since I won’t be here to supervise, I may need to assign a Prefect to oversee—”

“Would it be alright if I suggested someone in mind?” Beatrice interjected before she could think it through.

“Well, that’ll surely make it easier for me. I was worried for naught you’d adjust well in Hogwarts; seems like you’ve already made friends with a varied sort of capabilities in just your first week.”

She could only grin at her mentor sheepishly, watching as the quill signed with a flourish before the paper magically folded in on itself, whizzing pass under the door. Beatrice could only hope Sebastian found this to be a better form of detention.

The Great Hall was slowly starting to fill with students and some professors alike, since Professor Fig had insisted he’d rather take the Portkey scheduled for him at Hogsmeade Station on a lighter stomach, they’d parted ways by the Floo Flame near his classroom entrance. This left Beatrice cradling her mug of hot cocoa as her eyes scanned the opposite Slytherin table, failing to spot a familiar mop of brown hair, she found it odd how considering there weren’t that many students present at the tables yet their whispers seemed to encapsulate the Hall—

“Don’t worry about Sallow getting in trouble because of you. That lad was born in detention.”

It was a good thing the marshmallows from her cocoa buoyed her morning as Beatrice stayed her tongue at what Duncan had implied as he passed by.

“Oh, bugger off Dunkein! You’re just all talk now with that—”

“Constance that’s enough, don’t let him get to you, honestly…” Samantha let out a sigh in exasperation as she took a seat beside Beatrice, pulling her other roommate down, “Poor ol’ Sebastian has detention again. Will he ever learn to stay out of the Restricted Section?”

“Sebastian is always testing the rules. It is no wonder he got detention.” Having caught the tail end of the topic, it was Amit who then spoke up, just arriving along with Everett and Andrew.

“Aaand rumour has it, Sebastian Sallow got detention for you, though I can’t believe he’d do that.” Constance paused in spreading jam on her toast as she felt all eyes on her when she looked up, “What? No offense Beatrice, but he just strikes me as someone who wouldn’t take the fall for free. There’s got to be something in it for him.”

“You wouldn’t know anything about Sebastian getting his first detention for the year, would you?” It was Everett’s question that had their tiny group quietly curious about her answer, that was until Andrew interjected, “Yes, awful luck about Sebastian but you’re one to talk about detention, Clopton. May I remind you about the first day of class we had with Kogawa?”

Despite looking like the perfect picture of nonchalance as he poured milk into his tea, there was a teasing undertone to Andrew’s words that immediately coaxed a reaction out of the other boy, “Ack! Don’t remind me! It was just that one time in our 1^st year, it’s why I think she wouldn’t even let me pass from Flying Class altogether after all these years!”

“It’s really not so bad if you think about it. Gives me a good reason to practice flying more.”

“No offense Samantha, but you’re there because you want to overcome your fear of flying, but me? It’s keeping me from signing up for Ravenclaw’s Quidditch Team! I’m a wasted potential!”

“Say it louder for Astoria to hear, Clopton!” Constance goaded with a grin, raising her mug for emphasis.

Laughter and the added ruckus already distracted the rest of their tiny group and Beatrice couldn’t help but smile as she mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ at the blond sitting in front of her, to which Andrew winked back with a smile of his own.

It was throughout breakfast that Beatrice also learned that Hobhouse was distancing himself from the group now that he had “reason” to be brave on his own, going so far as to comment about Constance being a half-blood and even antagonize his roommates, Everett and Andrew.

Whilst the latter never really cared for such jabs, it did take him and Amit to keep Everett from causing more trouble, as Clopton wouldn’t stop at just playful pranks to show the other bespectacled boy a lesson for even thinking about throwing insults to the people he once considered to be his friends. Subconsciously, this also made Beatrice wonder what Hobhouse had to say about her own questionable lineage.

By the time they were off to their own respective morning schedules, Beatrice had pulled Andrew aside to confess that she may have unwittingly “volunteered” him for a task she hadn’t even asked his permission for.

“Oh, so that was why I got the notice from the madam. Thought for a moment it was some form of punishment for being known not to return her books on time.” He sighed in relief before rubbing a finger to his chin, now looking thoughtful, “This does give me an opportunity to check out what other books Fig has in his study; always did regret never taking up his subject past 1^st year…”

“I’m really sorry for having acted too familiar with you these days, Andrew— and this shouldn’t make up for anything, but as promised, I’ve already cast a great Extension Charm on this robe of yours.”

She handed him back the school robe he’d most graciously offered her yesterday morning when they were out at the rooftop. He grinned brightly upon seeing it, quickly changing into the charmed robe, “You’ve made this at the perfect time! I’ve actually been working on one that could store a whole broom in it – for Quidditch practice – though speaking of, I heard Kogawa’s still at the Ministry today. I’m sure that’s not going to stop Clopton from getting some flying done, but where will you be at?”

Beatrice glanced back again inside the Great Hall in hopes to spot Sebastian, suddenly being conscious about her free morning period quickly gave her an idea as to where else he might be at, “I – actually might need to finish a task related to Professor Hecat’s class. I’ll see you around then?”

The way Andrew seemed to search her gaze then had her almost fidgeting, but she stubbornly kept her eyes on him, catching the tiny hint of a smile as if he knew what it was she was keeping from him, “Of course, as long as you try to avoid trouble as much as possible, Beatrice.”

This was most troubling. Beatrice tightened the grip she had on her wand as she cast a second Protego just after the first one successfully deflected a Basic Cast, though she hadn’t dodged fast enough to avoid the third that came right after, alternating to her left hand as she shook off the numbness where it had hit her on her right arm.

Of course, she just had to try her luck in taking on four opponents on her own now, didn’t she? Natty was probably in class and Sebastian was still nowhere to be found, this left the rest of the members here to gang up on her instead.

She breathed a sigh of relief how Nellie graciously accepted defeat after her barrage of Basic Cast on the Gryffindor’s previously levitated form, before Beatrice made a quick glance at the other familiar face, one who Andrew introduced her to whilst she was enroute to Hogsmeade with Sebastian just the other day. Prewett was it? He looked to be second guessing his next set of spells at the moment.

But then again, this still left her with two other opponents, with the third Gryffindor going so much as to cast Confringo her way! She’d been reluctant to use Incendio all this while, but fire was better fought with its same destructive element, and now seemed like a perfect time than any to use the latest spell combination set she had just practiced.

Levioso took him off guard before Beatrice cast a quick Protego against the Hufflepuff girl’s attack, maintaining her focus on the Gryffindor as she followed with an Accio. His wide-eyed look of trepidation had her stepping back enough to cast a non-lethal jet of Incendio, making sure the boy wasn’t burning alive as he flayed about on the ground while Lucan called him off the round. That left two more.

Adrenaline had her feeling a familiar mounting sensation she’d come to associate with Ancient Magic since her fight in the Athenaeum, barely having enough time to keep it under control as Beatrice cast an Incendio against the Hufflepuff girl’s Protego at close range, the impact causing a rebound that made the other girl fall back onto the floor. This was proving to get dangerous…

Before she could reel in the Magic though, Beatrice failed to take into account her last opponent who took advantage of her distracted state, a Basic Cast to her leg had her close to falling forward but the surge of Ancient Magic caused her to instinctively summon a nearby wooden barrel and hurl it towards Prewett, instantaneously knocking him down on his back just as she landed on her numb leg.

There was a moment of hollowed silence before claps and whistles echoed through the Clock Tower whilst Beatrice all but dragged herself towards her fellow student to make certain she hadn’t inadvertently caused serious harm with her volatile magic, “Oh gods! Are you alright?” She’d asked, kneeling beside his prone but thankfully conscious form.

His gaze still looked wobbly as Prewett sat up all too suddenly, “That. Was absolutely brilliant!” Beatrice had to wonder how much sense she’d knocked out of him— “Using Levioso, Accio and Depulso like that in a fight – I’ll have to take note of that!”

Was that how it looked like? Admittedly, she had yet to learn the wand movement for casting the Banishing Charm so she had to be extra careful where to consciously use her Ancient Magic from here on, less it attract too much unwanted attention.

“What a victory! You’ve ranked the highest in the Initiate rounds!” Lucan exuberantly came rushing in followed by Nellie and the other Gryffindor boy.

“What’d I tell you, Northcott, she can’t be beat, can she?” Prewett still looked quite out of it as he was helped to his feet by the now named Gryffindor, “ Yes, yes. Lost to a new student. Hmph. I didn’t see that coming. Now off to the Hospital Wing with you.”

Beatrice couldn’t help but wince slightly upon hearing that, hoping she hadn’t truly left any lasting damage on a schoolmate, when Nellie offered her a hand, “Shame it’s over. I was just getting started. Do you feel like seeing the Nurse as well?”

Already feeling proper motion come back to her leg and arm, she shook her head, to which Nellie just shrugged and grinned, “Leander should have seen that coming, beating around the bush he was.”

“I’m just pleased to have done as well as I did.”

“And we’re pleased to have such a gracious champion. Now, to the victor goes the prize!” Nellie gave her a parting pat on the shoulder as Lucan fumbled with the rectangular box in his hands, “And so it is my great honour to present you with this simple yet elegant token of supreme duelling accomplishment. Think of it as a welcome gift, you know, from Professor Hecat.” Lucan all but whispered the last part as he cupped a hand to the side of his mouth in secrecy.

“Oh, thank you. It’s been an honour.” Beatrice raised her brows in intrigue, glimpsing the inside of the box to spot what looked to be an outfit before she stashed it away into her robe pockets, thinking to try it out sometime later, “Also Lucan, what you said about ‘ranking the highest’, surely Sebastian still holds that honour?”

“You earned it. You are a duellist to be reckoned with, and Sebastian seems to know that as well. Said he’d rather fight alongside you than against you in our Tournament of Champions next month, and since he was the one who vouched for your entry, Sebastian’s earned the option to have you as his duelling partner until the final rounds.”

Smart boy. Beatrice kept herself from sniggering most impolitely in front of Lucan who was all just explaining this matter-of-factly before the younger had produced a brass colored thin piece of foil in front of her, “Now about your wand, Beatrice— Is it made out of Aspen Wood?”

Lucan almost looked restless for her answer as she could only nod in affirmation, “I knew it!” He kept from cheering outright by covering it with a cough before composing himself, “If you could just do me the favor of placing your wand here perhaps?”

“Could this have anything to do with another one of your exclusively secret duelling clubs, Lucan?” Beatrice smiled, though hesitant in just placing her wand on just about anywhere.

“Not directly, no. But it might give us a chance to include a Hogwarts Champion in the Silver Spears.” She blinked, hoping the younger could elaborate more as he continued, “It’s a miracle how Professor Hecat never once gave me detention with the way I badgered her about this since being given responsibility of Crossed Wands. She implicitly gave me this only after the fact I mentioned it was you who wielded an Aspen wand. I don’t want to think it was because of House-bias though...”

Upon knowing her House Head was already made aware of whatever it is Lucan was planning, Beatrice could only watch in fascination as the foil glowed golden, encasing itself around her wand before an inscription of its making appeared on its surface. It was only after the piece of foil sealed itself into a dark blue envelope did she get her wand back, watching as the parchment zipped upwards into the Clock Tower.

“Could you tell me what that ceremony entailed which required me to join this… ‘Silver Spears’ was it?”

“That was a Wand Weigher – or a portable one, from what Professor Hecat said – and the Silver Spears is an infamous – if not almost legendary duelling club. But it has been awhile since they’ve accepted any members since being established back in the 18^th century, until rumour has it that one came from Beauxbatons just two decades ago! That was the last anyone’s really talked about the club, but think about it Beatrice, if you get to join the Silver Spears, you could have me as your personal duelling coordinator and that would just be absolutely amazing, don’t you think so?”

“Of course, but we best not get ahead ourselves, Lucan.” Beatrice couldn’t help but catch the younger boy’s enthusiasm, not daring to point out that her rather ‘late’ start at magic might come into consideration.

“Well, I think it’s still worth a shot at glory. And, now that we’ve definitively crowned our ranking winner for the Initiate rounds in just the first week, I suppose I should get back to my school work until the next month.” Lucan’s expression suddenly turned to worry, “Wonder how my Herbology plants are doing. I haven’t tended them in ages.”

Speaking of plants, Beatrice took into account her dwindling supply of Wiggenweld Potion she had on hand. She’d already come to rely on the bitter green liquid, what with the previous battles she had to undergo relating to Ancient Magic, and despite also being fortunate enough to supplement it with the random stock she found in the various chests she’d encountered, Beatrice felt it too risky to bet on luck alone.

First off, she needed a Potion Station to brew more Wiggenweld, yet she’d also need to start growing her own batch of Dittany Leaves too if it meant saving more on Galleons than just buying the ingredients, then that just left the other raw produce she needed… She’d read Horklump Juice tended to hide underground – in caves, maybe? She supposed there was finally reason for her to check out what the Forbidden Forest had to offer.

Beatrice snapped her Field Guide shut just as she’d quickly read up about the Greenhouse Tree, in awe of the eternal Spring the place seemed to be enchanted in as she walked closer towards the nearest Floo Flame that was indicated in her map, the whispers growing louder – had class already started??—

“What’s that smell? Is she growing Pungous Onion again?”

Her head tilted towards the familiar voice, she’d somehow come to associate it with the very boy she’d been hoping to find for the better part of the morning, and supposing they had the same classes so far, Beatrice thought it was best to assume she’d most likely encounter Sebastian in Herbology Class.

Despite that, Beatrice was also curious if there were any magical methods when it came to growing plants in the Wizarding community – she’d considered herself to be a passable gardener during her Horticulture classes back in the convent, managing to keep her greens alive and even producing a small batch of edible ones as well.

So it was with wide-eyed wonder that she took in the vibrancy of their Greenhouse classroom, following close behind who she recognized to be Lenora before it was her turn to reach into whatever it was their professor was handing out from the basket she held.

“Ah, hello!” A look of recognition immediately crossed her professor’s features before she was cheerfully introduced, “Class, please welcome the newest rose in our garden.”

She tried to relax her shoulders, suddenly feeling somewhat embarrassed at being called attention to as she swept a steady gaze over the faces of her classmates, only before meeting a familiar pair of brown ones who also had an almost cheeky smile on his face. Beatrice felt a flutter in her chest as she sheepishly returned his smile, she did owe Sebastian an apology and a proper explanation at this point.

“We do look forward to growing together.” Professor Garlick caught her attention then, nodding towards the only unoccupied gardening table beside Sebastian. He had his arms crossed now, accompanied by a teasing look in his eyes that matched his smile, Beatrice almost felt flustered under his gaze causing her to turn away from him to focus on their professor’s words – This was after all, technically both their first day in Herbology after having been exempted from their classes yesterday.

“The prudent Herbologist is no more afraid of the Venomous Tentacula than the Bouncing Bulb.” Professor Garlick said, gracefully throwing a carrot over the plant’s way as she passed by, the resulting crunch from its maw unconsciously made Beatrice step back in slacked-jawed wonder before turning to share a glance with the boy beside her, who in turn motioned towards the potted plant they each had on their tables. Curiously, the leaves seemed to quiver on their own despite the lack of wind inside the Greenhouse. 

“Now, then. Today we will be acquainting ourselves with the mellifluous tuber known as the Mandrake Root.”

Ah, the Crying plants. Beatrice remembered reading before term about their medicinal benefits despite their ironically fatal cries, though surely the latter part was made to be hyperbolic – how deadly could a plant’s scream be anyway?

“Let’s see if we can make our fibrous friends a bit more comfortable, shall we? First, let’s protect our ears.”

Beatrice surmised the ordinary looking cottons were enchanted somehow as she struggled to hear Professor Garlick’s next instructions, “Now, everyone grip their Mandrake by the tendrils and give it a firm tug.”

Hoping she wouldn’t pull just the leaves without the Mandrake itself, Beatrice also carefully watched Sebastian’s hand placement over his own pot before he tugged. The ensuing barrage of wails almost made her knees wobble as she tried to angle her head away from the mottled plant, quite sure she heard glass breaking in the distance.

“Quickly! Place your Mandrakes in the new pot and pat down the soil!”

Struggling to wrangle the writhing mass in her one arm as she pressed her other into her ear, Beatrice all but vehemently jabbed the plant into the bigger pot of soil, her ears still positively ringing as she buried it further, only stepping away from it with a sigh of relief when she was sure everything had gone quiet – or maybe she had gone deaf after all—

“The soil should envelop the root like a warm, dirty, blanket, putting the Mandrake right at ease.”

Breathing easier now as she watched the glass overhead be repaired with a simple Reparo, Beatrice took the cotton out of her ears as she saw Sebastian do the same, seeing him about to tell her something—

“I’m very sorry about that. Yours was a bit mature, I’m afraid.” Professor Garlick said as she passed between them, cradling the pot in her arms, “Splendid work, everyone. Now, for our next task, we’ll be planting Dittany at our potting tables. You can all get started – I need to have a brief word with our new student.”

Perking up at the mention of the ingredient she’d needed, Beatrice saw Sebastian nod and silently mouth ‘later’ at her as she followed after their Herbology professor.

“I should think Professor Garlick would be more careful with her Mandrakes.”

“Come now, Ominis. Think about how beneficial it’ll be if you’d nearly gone deaf, you won’t be bothered by my snores any longer.”

“And take away the joy of stuffing your face with a pillow every now and then? I think not, old friend.”

A smile found its way to Beatrice’s features as she couldn’t help but overhear the friends’ exchange, even catching Professor Garlick’s enthusiasm at guiding her on how to properly grow her first batch of the medicinal herb. She had to frown though at seeing how quickly the seedling had germinated – was it because of magic? Had she unwittingly cast Ancient Magic on it without knowing??

Panic had almost settled in her as Beatrice tilted her head, trying to catch any strange blue glow the plant might be emitting when – “Well done. Once it can be harvested, your Dittany will be ready to use in Wiggenweld Potion. I’ll let Professor Sharp tell you about that. Now, what say we branch out? Introduce you to a different sort of flora.”

Since Professor Garlick didn’t seem at all to be a bit perturbed by her plant’s growth, Beatrice could only nod along at the fast-paced lesson she was being introduced to.

“You’ll find that some plants are better suited to uses outside of a cauldron – like the Chinese Chomping Cabbage – they do get testy without something to chew. Fortunately, I have a dummy for them to gnaw on. Be a dear and let them have a good chomping.”

She blinked, not quite sure she’d heard right as all she could muster was, “Yes, Professor.” Hopefully Beatrice wouldn’t end up being the dummy the aforementioned chomping cabbages would gnaw on.

“They’re in the other Greenhouse. It’s just at the end of the footbridge leading out of this room. Your classmate, Mr. Prewett, has kindly offered to accompany you. Come back and see me when you’re finished. Oh, and – mind your fingers. They do bite.”

By the time Beatrice had tensely made her way up the steel stairs, she was greeted by the same boy she’d just sent to the Hospital Wing just earlier from their Crossed Wands match, “Hello! We meet again.”

“Prewett – how’s the head? No lasting damage, I hope?” She bit her lower lip anxiously, waiting for his reply as he rubbed at the back of his head.

“Please, just Leander is fine – and no worries, no harm done at all.” He gave her a sheepish grin to which she felt herself relax, “I’ll be showing you the Chinese Chomping Cabbages. Up these stairs’ll take us there, but – your lead, Beatrice, right?”

Smiling as she nodded, Beatrice had just about taken the first step up when she glanced back down towards their classroom to spot Sebastian’s frowning face, seeming to have watched after them with his arms crossed.

“Nice work in Defense Against the Dark Arts, by the way.”

“Excuse me?” Her focus snapped back up to her current companion who was already waiting for her at the top of the stairwell.

“Your duel with Sebastian. And he’s good. Ha, thinks he’s really good. But you outright slaughtered him. It was brilliant.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you.” Came her stilted reply, not quite feeling that she deserved what sounded like a compliment thrown her way as she instead kept busy by taking stock of the other useful plants they’d passed by – maybe she could pilfer a stem or two from some of them…?

“I nearly put Sebastian in his place myself. I mean, I would’ve, if Hecat hadn’t stopped me.”

“Didn’t she stop that dragon skull from crushing you?” Beatrice gave a side-eyed glance towards the redhead who’d kept walking forward, not quite realizing his charge had stopped to inspect a small chest left on top of a stone bench. She ended up quickly pocketing the Dragonhide Herbologist Gloves she’d found inside, thinking it’d likely be useful on whatever sort of cabbages she’d be handling.

“Pfft, typical Slytherin trick, dropping a dragon skull on someone during a fight. We Gryffindors fight with honour. And, uh, Ravenclaws, too. At least you did.”

Beatrice bristled at the first words of that statement, not wanting to stay silent in the midst of this petty sense of House rivalry, “I may not be as honourable as you think, Leander. I am to blame for Sebastian getting detention in just the first week back this year.”

“You mean those rumours?” He just laughed off her blatant confession, “It’s only fitting that Sebastian gets detention. This isn’t the first time he’s been sneaking in the Restricted Section. Don’t blame yourself, Beatrice.”

She just about opened her mouth to come to the Slytherin boy’s defense yet again, but she was then cut off by Leander’s proud declaration, “Here we are. Home of the Chinese Chomping Cabbage.”

Carefully approaching the row of planted vegetables, Beatrice would have mistaken the greens to look just like the normal cabbages she used to harvest back in the convent’s field had the diabolical things not stretched out their leafy layers to reveal rows of sharp teeth.

“Go on – grab a few of those cabbages. Just mind your fingers – I almost lost a thumb once.” The redhead had said almost too casually which made Beatrice stall in wearing her Dragonhide gloves as she cast him a troubled look, “Don’t worry, Nurse Blainey put it back on. But trust me, you do not want to go through that.” He’d hurriedly supplied before she proceeded to pull one out from the soil, careful to balance it in both hands by cradling its underside.

“Now, see that dummy? Just toss the cabbages at it. They’ll do the rest.”

Not needing to be told twice, Beatrice could only watch in horrified fascination as the training dummy stood no chance against the rather ferocious chomping it got from a mere single cabbage – “Look at that. They’ll chomp on anything they can get their, uh – mouths? – on.”

“How do you keep it focused on, well – chomping – on a singular subject? Better yet, what’s keeping it from ‘rolling’ towards our way and attacking us instead?” She couldn’t help but ask, already finding them to be quite beneficial if worst comes to worst.

“Oh, see that hat the dummy has? The trick is to leave a somewhat similar scent of your intended target near plots where these are being grown. Mum planted some in her garden last year to keep the gnomes out. Did save her the de-gnoming, but they got too close to her other fields and left her Honking Daffodils in tatters.”

Scent? She’d have to further read up about the violent vegetables to know more on taming and storing them – conveniently in her robes – for the near future. Just in case, seeing as they were not completely invincible as the last of its leafy layers crumbled away with its last chomp.

“Vicious little bastards, aren’t they? My kind of plants – not like stupid Bubotubers and Bouncing Bulbs. The kind of plants that’d have your back in a fight.” Leander grinned her way, rubbing at the back of his head as he quickly added, “Not saying you can’t go it alone. But – well imagine that wasn’t a dummy.”

“Trust me Leander, I was imagining it the entire time.” She was sure it would decidedly be a more bloody scenario though, but kept that tactfully to herself after almost feeling the cold sweat that washed over her classmate’s demeanor.

“You were? I mean – of course. You’re, uh, not someone to be trifled with. I see that.” There must have been something uncanny with the way she agreed with him that left Leander almost grasping at his words.

“I suppose they could prove useful outside of the Greenhouse. Nothing wrong with a bit of backup. Even if it is from a cabbage.” Beatrice chose to play it down a bit after perceiving the other boy’s features pale.

“It’s chaos out there – Trolls in Hogsmeade and such – not that you haven’t faced that one yourself, but you can’t be above throwing a cruciferous vegetable if necessary. Dogweed and Deathcap has more of them, if you’re keen. Other plants too – ones your parents wouldn’t plant in the garden.” An awkward pause as he shuffled his feet, “You get the idea. Anyway, we, uh, probably ought to head back to class.” Now seeming uneasy as Beatrice’s gaze wondered over to the other remaining cabbages left in their respective plots, “Or take your time – I’ll see you back in class.”

Beatrice watched him hesitate for a split second before walking away, her eyes narrowed as she silently observed Leander shake his head as he walked away, deducing he’d clearly been unnerved by something as she quieted down against a sudden barrage of whispers. Surely the cause of his sudden discomfiture was because he’d heard it too, otherwise Beatrice would be left baffled as to why she could make out parts of his thoughts all of a sudden.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10.1

Ominis Gaunt had by now categorized thoughts in his understanding of Legilimency since he became aware of his cursed ability at a young age – inherited from the lineage of a Hogwarts Founder, Salazar Slytherin himself, it was no impossible feat for a Gaunt of their bloodline to easily master the pervasive skill to skim into another’s private thoughts. Although what had made it different for Ominis was that he needn’t had to undergo any prior training whatsoever – to the one ‘defective’ Gaunt in their generation, this wretched skill was deemed to be his only saving grace. If only Ominis knew then what he knew now, he should have rather kept his family in the dark of his otherwise natural gift, had he not been foolishly naïve as a child wishing to ease his father’s “concerns” of his condition, the younger Gaunt ended up unwittingly divulging his uncanny use of Legilimency.

Dear sweet aunt Noctua had fervently tried to protect him against her brother’s greed to take advantage of such a skill that came naturally to him by training Ominis in the craft of shielding his mind with the use of Occlumency, but alas, this was something the youngest male Gaunt had still proven difficulty in mastering even until now – a disadvantage his own family had used against him on more than one occasion.

That was why he had learned to be careful, for carelessly reading another’s thoughts caused them to be instinctively wary of the reader, as a varying sense of discomfort seemed to creep up on them – especially if they were thoughts that the other considered most privy – ones that held their treasured memories and innermost secrets. Though the easiest ones to read which Ominis had no trouble – nor choice in catching snippets of were passing opinions – carelessly thrown about as if scattered pieces of notes floating in the air.

It’s all become white noise to the young Gaunt at this point, though most often than not these wafting thoughts also contributed in guiding his way around the now familiar castle of Hogwarts – labelling traits and personalities to the point he knew which student would usually hang about a certain area in the school – until of course, the arrival of their new classmate. Ominis had yet to catch a whiff of even the slightest opinion she had, whether it be her understandable anxiety of her new surroundings, or blatant amazement to her supposedly initial introduction to Magic in itself. It was as if she kept everything about herself under lock and key, and while Ominis was sure some of the professors had an inkling on whence she came, he had made a vow to himself never to intrude into any of his mentors’ thoughts. Except Black, who remained none the wiser even when Ominis suffered a three-day migraine back in his 1^st year just from the sheer insufferable egotism that kept rolling in the man’s head.

So, imagine his own surprise when a sweet voice drifted into his thoughts – ‘I wonder how many bottles of Wiggenweld I’ll be able to brew during this class?’

Oh, how he’d come to familiarize that voice by now to the one glimpse that Ominis inadvertently saw from Sebastian’s memories – Beatrice was fair in features, that he couldn’t deny, yet it was her eyes that beguiled him even in his dreams – he never thought he’d seen such a deep verdant hue that rivaled his House colors.

Though he strained to hear the gentle lapping of waves he’d come to associate her thoughts to since this morning in their shared class in Herbology, instead sensing a restlessness in her, the same way how one struggled to open a stuck window. Yet here she was now in his mind’s eye, a pensive figure gazing out of her slightly opened veranda, possibly basking in the fresh air surrounding her still mostly concealed thoughts yet, Ominis could see her – not literally, mind you – but he did try to picture getting closer to her metaphoric window, wanting to hear what more her thoughts had to offer. Though she seemed to have sensed his presence and all but shut the sill on him, jolting Ominis out of his own mind just as the wooden door to their Potions classroom slammed open.

“Potions is one of the most challenging and hazardous subjects taught at this school. As fifth-years, you will be required to reach new heights of both discipline and intellect.” Ominis’ head followed the direction of the gruff voice as it passed by in front of him, the telltale uneven steps had always been enough for the Gaunt to tell when Sharp was nearby even out in the castle’s halls, “You will begin this term by brewing a Wiggenweld Potion. Mister Thakkar. Can you tell us why this particular potion might come in handy?”

“Yes, Professor Sharp. The Wiggenweld Potion can be used to sterilise and even heal a variety of injuries.” Ominis couldn’t help but purse his lips into a thin line at Amit’s answer, though while correct, he unfortunately remembered how it was one of the methods used in trying to fix him by his family of his sightlessness.

“It can heal some injuries, but not all. Points for Ravenclaw.” Hearing Sharp tapping at something wooden before shuffling towards his table was soon drowned out by the concealed enthusiasm he glimpsed from the girl beside him. Ominis had to wonder if Beatrice’s sudden open mind was caused by whatever she and Sebastian had been up to in the Restricted Section last night.

While he managed to keep the incident from reaching Black’s ears – not that their esteemed Headmaster cared for something as petty as breaking into ‘the dustiest section of the school library’, as was his thoughts – Ominis did begrudge the Ravenclaw for having set up his friend into trouble on just their first week in Hogwarts, right after the fact of them being involved in the Troll Attack incident in Hogsmeade no less!

He had planned to let Sebastian follow through in his detention with Scribner, just to teach the other boy a lesson for taking the fall for a girl they barely knew, yet he’d just found out during breakfast earlier that his friend was suddenly assigned to Fig’s classroom instead. But with the professor gone on a trip to the Ministry, they still managed to find an excuse to delegate the supervision to a Ravenclaw Prefect? Ha, it seemed Ominis underestimated the fact that the new student could pull a few strings of her own…

“Before today’s class is completed, each of you will have brewed a Wiggenweld Potion of your own. You never know when you might need it. Please begin.”

Oh, how he had an inkling on the very person who’d most need it, judging from the trouble that seemed to follow her since day one. But Ominis tried to take his mind away from Beatrice as he took a deep breath, willing his hands steady as he cast the charm he was taught back in his 1^st year.

“Use a strong even motion when crushing your ingredients.” Their professor’s voice droned on during class.

Seeing as his was a special case, his Head of House, Professor Ronen, had worked patiently with Sharp in instructing a special charm that assisted the young Gaunt in preparing his ingredients – be it chopped, diced, crushed or ground – the charm had already been tried and tested by Potions masters of old who’ve only experienced failing vision due to their age, and it should have been enough to encourage Ominis into thinking he wasn’t such a lost cause after all. Yet, his next dilemma came in portioning.

“Please be meticulous when adding powder to your potions. One errant sneeze could be disastrous.” Came another one of Sharp’s reminders, almost as if this was directed at him.

Despite having learnt pints and ounces on his own, Ominis at this point didn’t know if there was a certain technique to knowing just how much was enough to brew his potion into a specific color – as if he could see any changes to that at all… No, all he could rely on in his potions making was his sense of smell, and the scent of petrichor for a Wiggenweld Potion was proving to have abysmal results.

“I see most of you have not forgotten how to stir.” Hearing Sharp get up from his seat as he slowly started making rounds on each of his students’ cauldrons, Ominis’ shoulders sagged in defeat, “My Wiggenweld Potion is utter rubbish. Wish I could just replace it with one from J. Pippin’s.” He couldn’t help but sardonically comment under his breath.

All this while, he’d at least somehow kept his cauldron from combusting or worst, melt in on itself, and it may be thanks to their new classmate’s calming brewing process. Because unlike his other deskmates in the past, listening in on Beatrice’s precise movements actually helped him to focus more on his potion, risking a peak into her otherwise shielded mind to see if he could somehow replicate the way she’d crush her Dittany… Surely, he must have missed a step?

Mentally sending out a quick apology in the hopes the girl beside him would hear, Ominis wasn’t prepared for the scene that greeted him as he delved back into his mind’s eye. Because there beyond the windowsill Beatrice had previously kept shut… was him – sitting despondently in his stool by their shared Potions Station, albeit with a look of confusion slowly growing on his features – yet the focus quickly shifted from him to a bottle being held by a decidedly smaller hand over their own cauldron. Wait… this was Horklump Juice, he only put in three drops but how many did she put again?

Five, in total.

Her answering back jolted Ominis right into the scene he was initially used to, outside of Beatrice’s still closed window, where she was now gazing back at him with an intrigued look on her face before she drew the curtains closed on him—

“Hmm. Not an easy potion to brew. Well done. And from what I hear of your recent exploits in Hogsmeade, you’d also do well to practise brewing the defensive Edurus potion. Professor Weasley had you acquire the recipe from J. Pippin’s, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

Steadying his hand, Ominis quickly tried to remedy his brew while Sharp was occupied with giving Beatrice further instructions. He tried to calm his racing heart at what he just experienced, because never had he glimpsed into a mind that provided him an opportunity in sight as clear as Beatrice’s! It was truly short of exhilarating – though hopefully it hadn’t left any lasting headaches on her part—

“Mr. Gaunt. I think your cauldron has been stirred enough.”

Ominis almost jumped out of his skin at having Sharp’s focus now on him, he was just about to reach out for his empty bottles when his professor made a sound of approval, “I see you’ve now brewed a viable potion on just your first batch, well done. Keep this up and you might just receive more than an Acceptable in your O.W.L.s at the end of term.”

He was sure a smile was evident on his face even as he finished bottling up the last drop of Wiggenweld Potion from his cauldron, and while Ominis was sure Beatrice had also brewed enough from her own batch, he couldn’t help but agree with Sharp’s comment regarding her exploits so far… So, after pocketing a couple for his use, he whispered a note to be scribbled on some spare parchment he had.

To Beatrice, thank you. Was written, leaving it by her side of their station pinned under the bottles he had left for her where there were of course five, in total.

“I was impressed that you were able to answer Professor Sharp’s question about the Wiggenweld Potion.”

“Oh, thank you! That means a lot coming from a fellow Ravenclaw. And I’ve never seen anyone brew such a flawless Wiggenweld Potion on their first try. Well done!”

He silently watched their new classmate talk to her Housemate, Amit, trying to play it simple as he slowly walked away from his Potions Station to head towards the ingredient shelves lining the walls to make it seem like he was just about to cross paths with her.

“Did I hear Professor Sharp say that you have permission to go into his office?” He asked quite simply.

“Yes, but why does that matter to you?” She’d warily eyed him enough to doubt even his long friend, Leander, would be able to succeed in his plan to get to know their new classmate better – he was definitely about to get a run for his Galleons.

As for him? Well, he’d best introduce himself first if he was planning to ask her for a favour, right?

“Brilliant! And it matters because you can be a part of something truly creative. I’m Garreth, by the way. Garreth Weasley. Bit of a prodigy with potions, if I do say so myself.”

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Beatrice Hayes. Wait. Are you related to Professor Weasley?” She asked in a lighter tone of voice, seeming to relax.

“She’s my aunt. Keeps too close an eye on me for comfort.” He sighed in reply before carrying on with his plan, a mischievous spark in his eye, “But she can’t be everywhere. Listen, anyone with a troll-sized brain can brew an Edurus Potion. I’m working on something that’s certain to be spectacular. I’m just missing one tiny, last ingredient that will add that extra spark.”

“I suspect that is where I come in.” Beatrice raised a brow at him in response.

“You’re as clever as I’d hoped. I simply need a single Fwooper feather. As you’ll already be in Sharp’s office with his permission, perhaps you could grab it for me.” He resisted the urge to rub his hands together, quite excited with the new brew he had in mind.

“I don’t know Garreth, I don’t want to get on Sharp’s bad side.”

Seeing a frown slowly forming on her features, Garreth was quick to come up with an excuse, “You won’t. Fwooper feathers aren’t that valuable. Sharp won’t even miss it.”

“Very well, I’ll bring you a Fwooper feather.” Beatrice now acquiesced with a sigh of her own.

“Brilliant! Wait until you see what I’m brewing. Hurry back to me when you have the feather.” Garreth said before quietly making his way back just as Sharp made his way around their Potions Station, droning on about keeping their spaces organised and free of clutter, while also being well-prepared by always having a few potions on hand.

He’d have kept stirring at his cauldron that deceptively had the same green hue of Wiggenweld Potion that some of them were still working on had he not noticed the disapproving gaze Natty directed towards him, shaking her head just as Sebastian hissed a whisper across from him, “Garreth! Why’d you have to rope Beatrice in your schemes this time?”

“Your potion should not be that colour, Miss McDowell.” Hearing Sharp nearby didn’t give him time to answer back as Beatrice also passed by quickly, seemingly balancing the Mongrel Fur and Ashwinder Eggs in her arms to stealthily pass him his requested ingredient, “Here’s the Fwooper feather you wanted.” She’d said under her breath.

“Brilliant. Thank you. This is going to take a moment to brew.” He quickly added it into his cauldron before Sharp could notice, also spying Natty slip a note Beatrice’s hand at the corner of his eye – seems the new student quite literally has her hands full at the moment, “You should get back to brewing your Edurus Potion and I’ll tell you when this concoction’s finished.” He quietly said in held anticipation, to which Beatrice only nodded back at him in return as she went on her way, while Sharp could also be heard heading back to his desk in front of the class.

“Should you chop the dittany or crush it? The wrong answer could result in the unfortunate loss of your eyebrows.”

Garreth chuckled a little under his breath, focusing back on the Slytherin before him who still had a scowl on his equally freckled face, “Relax Sallow, I told your sweetheart that Sharp wouldn’t even notice a single Fwooper feather gone from his inventory.”

“What— Beatrice is not my, what did you refer to her as??” Garreth found the sight of the Slytherin stumbling over his words quite amusing as he just continued on his own merry brewing.

“And now we add the mallowsweet, and – that’s odd. What’s happening? Wait, it’s not supposed to—” He yelped, putting his arms up as he stepped back and away from the concoction bubbling out of his cauldron!

“Garreth! Not again.” Amit slapped a hand to his forehead as they could only watch as the mixture fizzled before emitting fumes in wispy smokes of blue.

“Oh – the smell!” Samantha covered her face, the liquid now coalesced into a big bubble over the mouth of his cauldron before— “Dragon dung. What happened?” Then it popped! Fireworks bursting forth as it passed him and over the heads of his deskmates!

“Well done, Garreth!” He heard Imelda laugh his way mockingly as the remnants of his brew evaporated into thin air.

“What now Mr. Weasley?” Sharp’s voice grumbled, not even bothering to stand up from his desk.

“Sorry, Professor.” Garreth sincerely apologized, still at a lost for words as to where he went wrong with his recipe…

“That’ll be points from Gryffindor – again.” Was there professor’s final verdict.

Garreth’s shoulders drooped upon hearing this, meeting Natty’s consoling smile as she just shrugged her shoulders at him, but then he felt Sebastian’s gaze – almost boring a hole into his head – as the Slytherin glared his way at hearing Sharp’s next words, “Mr. Weasley did not do this on his own. His accomplice will answer to me as well.” Tensing, Garreth turned his head towards Beatrice as she made her way to their professor’s desk, her head held high.

“I brewed an Edurus Potion as you asked, Professor.” An almost hushed silence filled their classroom as his classmates seemed to stall in cleaning out their cauldrons to hear what more Sharp had to say to the new fifth year.

“I’m surprised you had the time. You seemed rather busy helping Mr. Weasley brew chaos.” Garreth winced upon hearing this, about to step forward and take full responsibility when—

“I’m sorry, Professor. I was merely trying to help a friend.” Beatrice had answered steadily, not even thinking of pushing any blame on him, even as Garreth felt some of his classmates’ gaze shift towards his direction. She had already considered him a friend so now he felt absolutely horrible at feeling like he used her to his advantage.

“Taking responsibility for one’s actions does go a long way with me. I shall assume that you’ve learnt a lesson. As for the work you did today at your own cauldron, I will say, you’ve done well.”

At Sharp’s words, Garreth spied Samantha and Amit both breathe a sigh of relief – presumably from how Beatrice handled the situation to prevent them from losing any House points – while he heard Natty hum in approval beside him. Sebastian however had the oddest smile on his face, Garreth carefully observed the other boy trying to hide it but the brunet still kept casting glances Beatrice’s way – If all bets were off the table, Garreth was sure he’d pay a good Galleon to see how this would further affect the Slytherin.

“I think each of us has had enough excitement for the day. Class is dismissed.” Sharp had then announced with gruff finality.

Just about starting to clean up the literal mess he’d made, Garreth still spotted Sebastian seemingly waiting for someone by their classroom’s doorway before Ominis passed by the other Slytherin and commented, “Don’t you have detention right after?”

“Why yes, Ominis. What a good friend you are to remind me.” Garreth almost snorted at the brunet’s reply but chose to remain silent, spying Sebastian cast one last backward glance towards Beatrice who was still cleaning up at her own Potions Station. The Gryffindor then couldn’t help but notice she had quite the number of Wiggenweld Potions bottled up – surely that couldn’t have been from just one brew?

“That was an interesting class.” Beatrice commented his way, catching Garreth off guard.

“Thanks to you! Wasn’t precisely what I had in mind, but it was still brilliant. I appreciate your help.” Looking pass her, he then whispered, “I hope Sharp wasn’t too disagreeable when you handed in your potion. Heard him talking about ‘taking responsibility’.”

“Professor Sharp wasn’t happy. I think it’s best to leave me out of your grand plans next time.” She’d pointedly said, still a smile on her face as she pocketed the last of her potion bottles, raising an eyebrow his way before she was about to head out.

“Sorry to hear that. Hopefully he’s already forgotten about it. Sharp may seem gruff, but I’d bet a few Galleons he blew up a potion or two in his day.” He supplied with a shrug of his own.

“Beatrice! Do you want to spend the hours before dinner at the library?” Samantha waved just outside the door of their Potions classroom.

“Best be off. Next time we talk, I promise: fewer explosions.” Garreth chuckled, to which Beatrice only shook her head as if not taking his word for it, waving him goodbye, before he caught just a bit of what she told her Housemates as they walked away.

“I actually might need to be somewhere first. I’ll try to catch up when I can.”

Garreth couldn’t help but wonder then how Beatrice was handling being a new student at Hogwarts so far – she seemed to be awfully all over the place.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10.5

Meet me in Lower Hogsfield as soon as possible. I would like to talk with you about Rookwood and Harlow, and it might be best to do so outside of the castle.

Natsai Onai restlessly shifted on her feet as she stood by the little town’s quaint entryway, she wasn’t sure if Beatrice had already managed to read the note she’d passed to her during Potions Class, but her doubts soon quieted the moment she heard the footfalls coming her way, “It is good to see you, my friend.”

“Hello, Natty. How are you?” Beatrice had greeted back after pocketing a hardbound book in her robes.

“I am well, thank you.” Natty hesitated then, not quite certain how to broach the next topic as she continued, “I was there – and saw what happened with Rookwood and Harlow at the Three Broomsticks. I have been worried about you.”

“I’m all right at the moment.” The other girl’s answer was too coincidentally short.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why were they looking for you?”

“I’ve never met Rookwood or Harlow. Perhaps they mistook me for another student.”

“Hmm. A bit odd – the two of them pursuing a Hogwarts student so intently.” Natty was sure of the frown on her features, very troubled at the thought that two notorious Dark Wizards were now targeting just about any Hogwarts student. “But whatever the reason, you were clearly in danger. For now, it is safe to say that Rookwood and Harlow are a threat to both of us – to all of us. Which is why I wanted to speak to you.” She then took a deep breath, deciding to take a chance confiding in Beatrice.

“Everyone has been talking about you defending Hogsmeade from that Troll attack. And I shall never forget watching Sirona stand up to Rookwood and Harlow in the Three Broomsticks. Both of you have inspired me to take a stand of my own.”

“What sort of stand?” The worried look on the other girl’s face was obvious, yet Natty was sure Beatrice would somehow understand if she explained her own motives.

“Men like Rookwood and Harlow are the reason my mother and I left Matabeleland. I am not going to sit by and watch them destroy my new home.”

“Rookwood and Harlow are a dangerous pair on their own. And you should know that Rookwood is in league with Ranrok.”

“I had heard they were seen in Hogsmeade together. All the more reason they must be stopped.” Although Natty was far from believing any rumours about a Goblin Rebellion, because surely, no goblin would have magic that could overthrow the Wizarding community – they’ve done it in the past with no success, after all. It was most likely a tactic used by the Dark Wizards to divide attention on their own rising numbers, “Rumour has it that Theophilus Harlow runs Rookwood’s day-to-day operations. Taking him down would cripple Rookwood’s entire enterprise.”

“That may be true, but shouldn’t Officer Singer handle someone like Harlow?”

“I spoke with her. She was polite, but perhaps understandably would not discuss details with a student.” Natty felt her restlessness return, why was Beatrice being too cautious? She knew for a fact that her new friend could handle herself quite capably in a duel, in fact, Natty had felt proud at being partnered with Beatrice at Crossed Wands, it gave her further confidence they could achieve this plan together, “I overheard some of Rookwood’s lot talking about a massive poaching operation that Harlow is planning. I was thinking that we could investigate a bit. Try to get the evidence that Officer Singer needs.”

“All right. But how?”

“I am going to watch and listen. Find out precisely what Harlow is up to.” Natty smiled, knowing full well how easily she could garner her much needed information now compared to the previous ones she only happened by chance while out in her Animagus form exploring the Forbidden Forest, “I shall reach out when I know more. In the meantime, remember: I am here if you need me.”

“Thank you, Natty.”

“Be on your guard.” Thinking it was safer to take the Floo Flame back to the castle, Natty was just about to tell Ignatia of their intended destination when—

“I beg your pardon! How dare you threaten me?”

“What’s going on here?”

“I heard it this way, let us find out.” Natty tried to silently follow the source of the shouting as she walked over the wooden planks by the lake’s edge.

“Natty, wait! Beatrice’s hushed plea to take caution first fell on deaf ears as they edged closer to what looked like a tent, where an older witch was being coerced by two wizards who both had the lower parts of their faces covered in bandanas.

“They must have come this way. Think!” One of them demanded.

“I’ve no idea who it is you think I might’ve seen. I’ve been busy with my research. I do not have time to– ”

“Victor Rookwood don’t give a Doxy’s nip ‘bout your time.”

Natty stepped closer to the other witch, to which she was met with surprise upon hearing the next words being directed to her friend, “Oi! Speak o’ the devil. Mr. Rookwood would like a word with you.”

The older witch was quicker to react before Natty could utter a word, “A student? You can’t be ser—” She’d gasped, both of them stepping back as the other wizard cast a spell of warning near both their feet, “Enough outta you.”

“Leave them alone.” Beatrice had now stepped forward, the tone in her voice turning deadly serious as she now brandished her wand, pushing the other witch to also retaliate, “Stupefy!”

“Nobody’ll miss one measly little student.”

A shiver of worry crawled up Natty’s spine upon hearing the dark wizard’s words just before she cast a levitation charm on him, to which the older witch summoned both of the wizards with a well-timed Accio, though what surprised Natty was the intensity with which her friend cast out an Incendio – the heat that came from Beatrice’s Fire-making Spell was far from the friendly warmth she was used to seeing the brunette cast during their mock duels at Crossed Wands.

But she did not stop there either, even as Natty helped the witch researcher in taking down one of the wizards, the Gryffindor could not help but watch in captivated alarm how Beatrice was quick to finish off the last of the duo with a lethal combination of Accio and Incendio.

“I’ll watch the light go out of yer eyes.”

It seemed there were more of them coming! Natty stood her ground as the older witch with them encouraged, “We can hold them off.” She’d said, trying but failing to lure the witch’s attention who’d just arrived with the other two Dark wizards.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Natty heard Beatrice’s retort, she’d just about tried to cast Depulso on one of the goons getting closer to her friend, yet the brunette surprised her again by quickly levitating a nearby wooden barrel before violently throwing it into the Dark wizard! Natty eagerly wondered what combination of non-verbal magic Beatrice had just used!

“You’ll take these students over my dead body!” The older witch beside them grunted in exertion as she cast between defensive and offensive spells. At the back of her mind though, Natty was sure it was just Beatrice they were after, she couldn’t focus on the reason why, as for now she was getting disoriented from the heat of the fiery spells she’d been avoiding so far, feeling sweat drip down the sides of her face just as she’d turned too late towards Beatrice’s way, warning her from the Dark witch’s incoming attack— “Expulso!”

Thankfully, Beatrice was quick to deflect it with a well-timed Protego whilst she cast a swift Stupefy on one of the wizards planning to quietly Disapparate with her, before focusing back on the head witch, “Incendio!” She’d cast at the other’s reddish protective charm.

“Amateur!” The dark witch taunted back, seeing Beatrice’s Fire-making Spell fall short out of range from where she stood. Hearing an uncharacteristic grunt of frustration come from Beatrice, Natty observed again how the other girl cast that curious non-verbal levitating-throw spell at her opponent, before proceeding to summon the other forward towards a sure fatal blow—

“Protego!” Beatrice had to deflect mid-offense as the previous dark wizard slowly came out of his stupor, “You can’t hold out forever.” He managed to say before Natty herself stepped in to cast another Stupefy at him just as Beatrice cast an aggressive Incendio on the dark witch before her, throwing the other back mid-air before landing on the ground, unmoving.

“Come on! Too afraid to fight back?” Natty’s focus then turned towards the other half of the wizard pair, assisting the researcher witch in her efforts to take their opponent down, barely registering the consecutive thuds that hit the earth behind her just as the Dark wizard before them gasped out his last words, “Merlin’s beard! What was that?”

There came complete silence afterwards. Having taken her eyes only seconds away from Beatrice’s duelling, Natty quickly look towards her friend’s way, fearing she’d been Disapparated along with the other Dark wizard yet what lay before her was the almost unrecognizable remains of him and his mangled limbs. She barely had time to question Beatrice’s look of horror before—

“What on earth just happened? I’ve never been accosted in such a manner. And so close to Hogwarts!” The researcher witch they had assisted had gasped out loud, catching her breath from the fight.

“Are you all right?” Beatrice asked taking deep even breaths now, the haunted look in her eyes seeming to have gone in a blink.

“I am. Thanks in no small part to your excellent defensive skills.” The older witch now sounded calmer as she cautiously strung up the remains of their defeated opponents in a pile, clucking her tongue at the smell of burned flesh now wafting in the late summer breeze before she asked, “Care to tell me why these Ashwinders were ready to dispatch me to get to you?”

Natty tensed, having heard about the troublemaking individuals before but never really having duelled against one until now—

“Ashwinders—” Beatrice though, had never heard about them before outside of what she read to be a serpent-like Beast in the Wizarding world—

“Victor Rookwood’s thieves and extortionists. His little cronies. They seemed quite keen on you.” The older witch answered with a glance towards Natty’s way before levelling a serious gaze on Beatrice.

“It’s a long story. But – thank you for your help.” The Ravenclaw’s answer had Natty raising her brows in question as her friend cast a quick uneasy glance her way.

“Hmm. Well, you’ve avoided them for the moment. Priya warned me things were getting dangerous.” She’d paused, looking warily around their surroundings as she continued almost in thought, “Best get moving on my research before any more of them return.”

“You are a researcher?” Natty finally got to ask, hearing only the initial part of how the older witch had earlier been interrupted in the midst of her research by the two Ashwinders.

“Nora Treadwell, at your service. Historian and archaeologist specialising in Merlin’s work and life.”

“Merlin – of the legend of King Arthur?” It was Beatrice’s turn to ask with a hint of wonder in her tone.

“The very same. Merlin attended Hogwarts, you know. And I’m studying some curious fixtures he left here centuries ago.”

“Fixtures?”

While Beatrice now became keen on knowing more of what Ms. Treadwell had to share about some trials and puzzles, Natty couldn’t keep still as she kept a vigilant eye on the bundled remains of their defeated foes. She couldn’t help but stare at the one worst off out of all of them, wondering what sort of spell Beatrice had cast to have caused that much damage.

Her attention shifted from the Ashwinder’s protruded limbs when she heard Beatrice continuously cast at a couple of pyres she hadn’t even noticed before lining the edges of the Black Lake—

“Merlin’s beard! How beautiful.”

Even Natty had to agree with the researcher as she now stepped closer to newly formed stone gazebo, blinking her eyes as she caught the hint of what could very well be Merlin’s silhouette cast in a green glow before it faded into the afternoon light.

“What a day! I can hardly believe it.” The older witch had sighed mostly in exasperation.

“I take it we can call that a success?” Beatrice chirped back in response.

“We can, indeed. However, I now have even more questions.” The researcher mostly mumbled to herself as she walked around the gazebo, seemingly lost in thought, “How does it work? I must review my notes: I may have missed something.”

“Are all of the Trials like this one?” came another one of Beatrice’s questions whilst Natty started to feel restless just standing by the fallen group of Ashwinders – surely, they needed to file a report about this incident.

“Hmm? Not precisely. Well, I think each has those telltale vines and the swirl on the ground.” Nora Treadwell answered as if pulled from her thoughts, “You should feel free to solve them as you come across them. I believe I have what I need to continue my research. My guess is that each will also require mallowsweet – which you can find in Hogsmeade should you need more.”

Natty nodded back at the older witch who now regarded her as she walked closer to the pile, “Speaking of Hogsmeade, I’ll have to take an additional stop there to take this lot and file a report with the Officer in charge.” Clucking her tongue, the researcher to proceeded to cast a charm that started dismantling her tent while her luggage packed themselves, “I really must be off. Such a pleasure to meet you young ladies.”

Biting her lip, Natty hesitated to come forward in wanting to tag along with the researcher, she did not want to leave her friend alone here when she was now certain it was not a case of mistaken identity on Beatrice’s part—

“Don’t you think it’ll be much easier to have one of us tag along to give an additional statement as another eyewitness, Ms. Treadwell?”

Her brows raised in surprise as Natty met Beatrice’s expectant look directed towards her as she quickly whispered, “This is your chance to get on Singer’s good graces.”

“Hmm… It does save me the trouble to explain that I didn’t take down these Ashwinders singlehandedly. Very well, whichever between you will come along then.”

Beatrice gave Natty an encouraging nod, nudging the Gryffindor towards the other witch as Treadwell firmly held onto her, “And do be careful out here. Now I’ve got what I needed. I shall return to the safety of my notes and books.”

Before Natty could utter a word in parting, she’d been Disapparated away.

Beatrice exhaled slowly, taking shallow breathes as the smell of burning flesh and the carnage she’d just caused flashed in her mind, wincing against a memory she’d held back all these months prior.

She didn’t want to be near anyone right at this moment, especially after already sensing Natty’s thoughts on more questions for her, hence why she’d insisted on the Gryffindor to be whisked away for the time being.

Everything about her hurt – as if her nerves were on fire as Beatrice now staggered to walk.

She’d thought to take the Floo Flame back to Hogwarts by the Lower Hogsfield village entrance but her feet stopped in the midst of the wooden dock, eyes turning towards her right as she contemplated – thinking it might help get rid of the burning scent that afflicted her senses and clouded her mind.

Changing course as she now reached the other end of the dock, Beatrice had just about removed her school robe when she’d heard the creak of the wooden boards under someone else’s presence—

“Oh, my goodness! Would you put that down?” The newcomer had gasped out in shock, hand shaking as she pushed away Beatrice’s wand that was aimed at her throat.

“You shouldn’t be wandering too far away from the castle.” Beatrice swallowed thickly past her words, gripping her wand tight as she lowered it, trying to calm herself.

“Well, that makes two of us.” The other girl crossed her arms as she resolutely replied – Slytherin based on the House colors Beatrice had observed on her uniform – “Though I was hoping someone would come along here. I was about to defy my father’s wishes and would never have forgiven myself.” She sighed dramatically, pausing for effect before she continued in a quieter voice, “You see, I need to retrieve something from the bottom of the lake. Might I beseech you for some assistance?”

A firm refusal was just on the tip of Beatrice’s tongue upon sensing the other girl’s grand plans when the Slytherin held out a dainty hand in introduction, “My name is Grace Pinch-Smedley – of the Bath Pinch-Smedleys –?”

“Beatrice Hayes.” She cringed inwardly, hesitant to hold onto the other girl’s softer hand for much longer as she asked in confusion, “You seemed to think I might’ve heard of the ‘Bath Pinch-Smedleys’. Why would I know of your family?”

“That’s like asking why the sky is blue or grass is green.” The blonde girl had gasped aloud, retracting her hand from Beatrice as if burned, “The Pinch-Smedley name is synonymous with intellectual curiosity. We are known for our contribution to science and art. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of us, frankly.” Then she tilted her head in sudden realization, “But since you are still new around here, it’s only understandable. Still, with all I plan to discover about the world around us, those that don’t yet know the name certainly one day will.” She proudly finished.

“What do you need help retrieving?” Beatrice went straight to the point – her patience wearing thin as her vision narrowed – she just wanted to be surrounded by the lake’s cool waters.

“Years ago, my grandfather – who fancied himself quite the astronomer – set sail from Hogsmeade Station for what was meant to be a quick star-gazing cruise with my grandmother. They never returned.”

She tensed at that, focusing now on Grace’s suddenly solemn disposition, “I’m sorry to hear that.” Beatrice paused, empathizing with the other girl’s lost but also wanting to calm herself enough to hear out the rest of the story, “What happened to them?”

“We can’t be sure. We only know that neither they nor their boat made it back to shore. They were presumed drowned. Father was so distraught that he forbade our family from setting foot on or in the Black Lake ever again. A treasured family astrolabe vanished with them that night. If you could dive down and retrieve it. I may be able to bring my father some peace.”

Breathing in deep as she closed her eyes in contemplation, Beatrice started to think this through – it wasn’t just diving into the lake, she’d have to narrow down the ship’s last location first before trying to search for what very well be a needle in a haystack, in a manner of speaking – and having an idea of what else lay further down in those waters other than the Giant Squid also gave her reason to pause.

“It sounds dangerous. Especially for something of mere sentimental value.” Beatrice now fixed her gaze upon Grace, “Have you even taken into consideration the object you seek might as well be rendered unusable after all these times spent underwater?”

“Sadly, I’d imagine it’s rusted beyond repair now. Still, we’d love to have it returned to us. It would be like getting a bit of my grandparents back.”

Something in Beatrice twinged, she after all only grew up for a short time with her grandmother. If given a choice, would she also risk her safety to have a bit of her childhood back? The resounding answer actually surprised her. “And you were about to do this all on your own, I garner? You do understand the risk you were about to take – granted that you’re at least an experienced swimmer to begin with?

Grace’s shoulders sunk, deflated, “I understand. But, I’d be forever grateful for your help.” Now meeting Beatrice’s gaze, the Slytherin then began to negotiate, “And of course, you may discover much more than the astrolabe. Anything else you find would be all yours.”

Beatrice’s brow twitched, curiosity now peaked as Grace continued, “I’ve heard rumours that you were raised by the sea even before coming to Hogwarts. And seeing as you were just about to        dive in yourself before I came by, tells me you’re more than an experienced swimmer than I am. I wouldn’t ask this of just about any student…” The girl now looked at her almost pleadingly, making Beatrice sigh in defeat.

“Diving into the lake does sounds like an adventure. I’ll see what I can find, Grace.” It wouldn’t be the relaxing swim Beatrice had hoped for after all…

“Splendid! Precisely the response I’d hoped for.” The other girl clapped her hands together in success, though what astounded Beatrice was when Grace pulled a detailed sketch from her robe, “I’ve crossed-referenced the vessel’s last alleged location against the lake’s topography, depth charts, and tide schedule.” The Slytherin pointed at her notes as she showed them to Beatrice before indicating towards somewhere in the lake’s horizon, “My best guess is that it’s just over there, about a furlong from the dock. It would be wonderful to have my grandfather’s astrolabe back.”

Insisting that Beatrice take the sketch with her – as Grace had said she’d already enchanted it beforehand to be waterproof and act like a compass underwater – she was all but ready to be welcomed by the water’s cool embrace when the blonde handed her one last thing for her dive, “It’ll help you breath longer underwater and grant you better vision against the lake’s darker depths.” A Mermaid Mask she’d traded off a Housemate, the girl had said.

And though Beatrice was just now getting used to suspending disbelief in the magical community, she was still surprised to open her eyes to the otherwise strange surroundings of the Black Lake’s cool waters, it was still foggy but not as dark as she’d expected it to be underwater.

Taking a tentative breath through the mask Grace had provided her, Beatrice cautiously swam forward, she hadn’t asked how long the enchantment would hold so she decided to go straight to where Grace’s chart indicated just northeast from the dock. The pressing silence of being underwater calmed her previously frayed nerves and the added search provided her a sense of purpose as Beatrice swam over a garden of tangled weeds, making sure not to stare too long into its darkness lest something try to swim out and make a grab at her.

She had her wand gripped tight in her right hand all this while, only pocketing Grace’s chart in her skirt when she came upon a wide clearing – half-covered in plains of sand (or mud), and dull stones that seemed to glimmer in the waters’ darkness, lay a wooden shipwreck – Beatrice hoped this was where the Pinch-Smedley family astrolabe is.

Cautiously swimming into one of the ship’s portholes, Beatrice was more than glad to find out that the Wand-lighting Charm still worked underwater as she cast Lumos under her breath. The Mermaid Mask was working well so far but Beatrice was starting to feel a sort of pressure from the surrounding waters, she needed to search for the astrolabe quickly.

Thankfully, the first room she came into looked what remained to be a study – splinters of wooden frames floated by as Beatrice swam past chairs with mottled bolsters, quickly searching through the chests that she’d see glowing in the dark after she’d cast a hasty Revelio.

Pocketing a piece of parchment that was still enchanted to withstand being underwater all this time and a pair of spectacles that Beatrice found interesting, she now steadily held onto her wand after donning the set of Duelling gloves she’d also just discovered. It was then she noticed the remnants of a mahogany desk that lay suspended near the end of the room, or rather the number of bottles that floated by it – mostly containing what looked to be Wiggenweld Potions judging by the barely verdant hue in some of the vials.

Beatrice only pocketed one that looked to still be preserved against the elements – as she’d wanted to compare the effects of an ‘aged’ potion to a newly brewed one – when she spotted the faint glimmer sticking out from the standing cabinets at the far end.

This must be it! Beatrice thought as she tried to angle the light from her wand to show more details of what used to look like an astonishing navigational tool. But it was stuck in-between the cabinet’s wooden door.

Deducing it was the mahogany desk that was keeping her from further prying the astrolabe between the cabinet’s door, Beatrice used the strength in her legs to push away the desk’s weight as her arms pulled at the ancient device only to pull something along with it—

Almost swallowing lake water from the gasp that escaped her lips, Beatrice only let the bubbles of air subside long enough for her to clarify what it was she saw in that cabinet before she quickly started swimming away! Skeletons – a pair of them, huddled in the cabinet’s wooden confines.

When her head broke the surface, Beatrice hadn’t noticed how fast she’d swam back to the dock had her arms and legs not started aching from the immediate exertion as she hauled herself up on top of the wooden landing.

“I trust you didn’t find the dive too terribly difficult?” Grace’s chipper voice turned worried upon taking in Beatrice’s unusually pale state, “What seems to be the matter? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost – or worse?”

“I – followed your bearings on the dive in the Black Lake.” Beatrice tried to catch her breath, sitting up as she swallowed in between, removing the Mermaid Mask before handing Grace the object she’d requested for, “And – while I did find the astrolabe, I – may have discovered something else…”

It was Grace’s turn to fall beside her as she recounted the skeletons – most likely the once missing Pinch-Smedley elders – who were trapped in their final resting place. “I’m sorry to have been the bearer of such news. I just thought you and your family deserved – closure, at the very least…”

The rivulets that came from Beatrice’s drenched form continued to drip on the wooden dock, almost amplifying Grace’s shaky breath as she cradled the astrolabe she held close to her chest.

“Thank you so much for doing this for me – and for my family.” She tried to stifle a sniffle but Beatrice heard it all the say before she saw the watery smile Grace cast her way, “I can’t wait to see my father’s face after I show him our family’s astrolabe though. I’m sure it will at least provide him peace.”

Beatrice smiled at her hesitantly, not quite sure how to proceed with comforting the girl, despite getting the sense that Grace was quietly recounting the few memories she had of her late grandparents – she seemed to have looked up to her grandfather the most. The other question Beatrice had to ask herself now was what triggered this form of empathy, it wasn’t quite Legilimency, but more a murmur of thoughts…

Donning her own school robe after having cast the ever-reliable Hot Air Charm, Beatrice quietly watched Grace looking off in the distance. The Slytherin had by now meticulously wrapped the astrolabe with her embroidered handkerchief before storing it safely in her own pockets.

Though even as both girls agreed to travel back to the castle via the Floo Flames from the nearby Lower Hogsfield village, Beatrice kept a concerned eye on Grace, who was still lost in her own silence as she’d rubbed the enchanted Mermaid Mask in-between her fingers.

Still not quite comfortable with travelling via Floo Flames, Beatrice herself immersed in the companionable silence as they now both crossed the wooden bridge leading to the Clock Tower Courtyard—

“You should keep this.” They’d stopped by the Well of Four Beasts when Grace offered her the Mermaid Mask, making Beatrice raise an eyebrow her way as the other smiled, “I do hope you keep diving. You certainly have a knack for finding treasure.”

“But I thought you traded this from someone…?” She asked, perplexed.

“I did, but only for one particular reason…” Grace now had a soft smile on her face as she said, “I don’t plan to give my father any more grief…”

Caressing the intricate lines that made up the enchanted mask’s design, Beatrice thought about the many possibilities of what the Lake’s depths had to offer—

“You’d do well to keep an eye out for more spots to dive. A diver of your calibre is certain to find all sorts of things down there.”

Grace’s words were enough to convince Beatrice to graciously accept the aforementioned item, thanking the Slytherin as she pocketed it in her school robes when they were noisily interrupted by a screech—

“That’s quite odd. We only usually receive the post during breakfast at the Great Hall, but I guess you do have quite a bit of catching up to do in-between classes, don’t you?”

Nodding at Grace in reply, Beatrice had by now recognized Hermes as the barn owl flew towards her, quite prepared for it to be another one of her extracurricular assignments from her professors yet—

Greetings, young student. Scrope knows about the old book you found for Professor Fig. Scrope can help you. And you can help Scrope. Get to the courtyard past the pendulum. If you don’t know it, you’ll see it easy enough. And don’t tell anyone what you’re up to – especially Professor Black.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Safely securing the bottle she just filled with Leech Juice, Beatrice glanced along the Lake’s lonely edge, carefully avoiding the littered glass bottles as she studied the new additions that appeared on her Field Guide – there seemed to be another Merlin Trial up ahead on the way back to Hogwarts. It had been easy to miss since she took the Floo Flame back to the castle, but after bidding Grace a quick excuse as to get to where she was now, Beatrice curiously came upon a sealed cave along the Lake’s edge with a rather intricate engraving before its entrance.

Putting two and two together, she’d levitated a nearby stone cube with its matching symbol onto the circular engraving before it took her a second to garner that she then had to cast a spell indicative of the fiery symbol it presented. While using the Fire-making Charm she had in her arsenal was correct, Beatrice was still unsure about entering the now unsealed cavern, fearing it might trap her inside, until she perused how it was suddenly labelled in her Field Guide – a Treasure Vault.

Curiosity got the better of her as she still wound up investigating what lay inside and was rewarded by yet another piece of aged parchment left in a lone chest inside the cavern. She garnered it was enchanted to not crumble in her hands the moment it was unearthed but Beatrice had to wonder what these pieces of paper were for…? Suppose she could ask Professor Weasley about it tomorrow in Transfiguration class, knowing Professor Fig had yet to be back from London.

Quietly mulling over how to inquire about the subject tomorrow whilst not raising the Deputy Headmistress’ suspicions on her ‘extra’ curricular activities, Beatrice was then pulled from her thoughts when the house-elf that led her here with his curiously placed notes suddenly Apparated on top of a wooden barrel she was just about to pass by along the water's edge—

“Thank you for coming all this way.” The one-eared fellow huffed as he hopped off from his elevated stance before looking up towards Beatrice, “The name’s Scrope. Scrope serves the Headmaster. Been in the Black family for years. Apologies for the abundance of notes. Scrope wanted to be sure you weren’t followed.”

“What’s this all about? Your notes mentioned the book I found in the Restricted Section.” Beatrice narrowed her eyes as she warily assessed the house-elf in front of her.

“Scrope can tell you more in exchange for your help. But no one – especially the Headmaster – can know.”

“I’m not so sure about this. I don’t need the Headmaster upset with me.” Nor did Beatrice think it wise for the wizard to know why the new fifth-year was even in the Restricted Section in the first place.

“Oh, the Headmaster won’t be upset. Scrope simply wants to surprise him. Scrope will explain.” The house-elf was quick to assuage her worries before he took a deep breath to talk about his late mistress, “Apollonia Black – may she rest in peace – was a student at Hogwarts over fifty years ago. Before she died, she spoke with passion of pages ripped from a book. Scrope suspects she took them to her private grotto.”

The house-elf nodded his head towards somewhere farther along the coast, now continuing with a solemn look in his eyes, “She was delirious at the end, poor thing. Mistook belladonna for elderberries. Scrope tried to warn her.” His forlorn sigh seemed to signal the end of his explanation but Beatrice still had some questions she needed answers to.

“I’m sorry to hear that. But – how do you benefit if I find the pages?” She was still high-strung from her earlier encounter with Rookwood’s Ashwinders, despite the swim in the Lake’s waters helping ease her nerves a bit, Beatrice was still certain she could not afford to let her guard down – especially outside of Hogwarts’ walls.

“Scrope believes that a treasured Black family ring is also in the grotto. Scrope wishes to give it to the Headmaster.” The house-elf hesitated only for a brief second before confessing, “Apollonia forbade Scrope from entering the grotto long ago. Scrope continues to honour her wishes.”

There was a moment of silence as Beatrice inwardly weighed the situation – this was the only lead she’d gotten about the missing pages after all – yet she felt a sense of unease at being enmeshed in anything that involved the Black family—

“Scrope would not dare ask a student for help. But when Scrope learned you were looking for those pages. Scrope thought you might also find the ring.”

Beatrice breathed out slowly then, before asking the one other question that seemed to be bothering her since receiving the house-elf’s first note, “How did you know that I’d found a book and that it’s missing pages?”

“Scrope and the other house-elves are good at staying out of sight. Scrope hears and sees many things in the castle. Scrope knows how to keep secrets.” That whispered last half may well be meant to assuage Beatrice’s misgivings, yet she was aware how immensely devoted and loyal house-elves can be to their masters.

“Tell me more about this treasured ring.”

Scrope’s fixed somber expression almost seemed to perk up now, “It’s adorned with the Black family crest. The Headmaster would be pleased with Scrope for returning it.”

She still wasn’t sure how much Scrope knew – whether the entrance to the Athenaeum remained to be seen only by Ancient Magic wielders like her – but Beatrice could only breath in now as she came to a decision, “It seems this may help us both. I shall do it.”

“Scrope is relieved. Scrope hoped the young student would be willing to help.” The house-elf now nodded most fervently as he also produced something magically from his hands, “Take this toast to the grotto just down the coast. Place it on the pedestal there.”

This gave Beatrice pause as she was handed the tiny, yet still warm toast in her hand, “Why do I need a toast to get in there?”

“Oh, that was dear Apollonia’s idea. Seems some squids love toast. Scrope is not certain though if this is common knowledge amongst Hogwarts’ students.”

Before Beatrice could process whether the Lake’s Giant Squid was also in charge of guarding a Black family member’s grotto situated by the waters’ coast, the house-elf had already wandered off, “Scrope will wait right here for you. Best of luck finding your pages. And the ring.” He added in emphasis, lest it be forgotten, leaving Beatrice to head to the grotto alone.

She’d already prepared herself for another round of swimming, seeing as Scrope pointed somewhere towards the bottom of the cliffs ahead – but had she not consulted her Field Guide’s Charmed Compass, Beatrice wouldn’t have pinpointed the exact location of the grotto’s entrance.

It was in this instance, while Beatrice lifted the ends of her school robe in one hand and had the Guide open in the other as she followed the golden thread to her destination, that she was caught by surprise as the pages lit aglow before flipping to a newly made journal entry – Wait, why was it showing a Dugbog?

Now ankle deep in the Lake’s waters, Beatrice stopped to assess the page’s entry when she’d felt more than heard the distant rumble of something shifting beneath the water’s surface, the tiny hairs on her nape standing on edge as she took a second to register the movement coming behind what she initially thought was a floating tree branch, before it charged at her –!

She only managed to react fast enough by lurching herself to the nearest rocky embankment, her footing slipping on the slick stones as she landed on her knees, Field Guide digging dully at her side as she rolled on her back, safely securing it before quickly brandishing her wand from her skirt’s pocket, as she leaned back on her elbow. The Dugbog had by now turned around towards her, its mouth now open wide, preparing for its next attack but Beatrice had already read enough from her Guide to know how to counter—

“Levioso!”

Beatrice didn’t have time to observe the amphibian beast levitated on its tongue as she then felt an almost instinctive surge of Magic through her wand arm, making her adjust her stance as she accommodated the large boulder that aggressively made impact on the Dugbog. The slimy, severed tongue that plopped in front of her was enough to make Beatrice gag, but she had to swallow it back as she heard another set of rumbles coming her way again – this time, there were three more emerging from the waters to quite possibly avenge their fallen kin.

Biting back a curse, she winced to stand as the sting of her skinned knee burned against the damp air, blood seeping through the tear in her stocking as she held her wand between her teeth, hurriedly donning the Dragonhide Herbologist Gloves she’d thankfully kept in her skirt pocket, then swiping them across the beast’s slimy tongue, just before digging her hands into each pocket of her enchanted robe. She hoped to Godric Gryffindor that Leander knew what he was talking about earlier in class, before Beatrice pulled out the pair of Chinese Chomping Cabbages and threw them at the charging Dugbogs!

The seemingly sentient plants seemed to target in on their adversaries as the first one was quick to latch onto a Dugbog’s tongue just as it opened its mouth. Beatrice first thought it would get crushed between the beast’s gaping maw but the plant knew when to let go and continue its relentless attacks, much like how even the other Cabbage gnawed on the second Dugbog’s now flailing tongue. That left her with the last one just about to charge at her with brute force.

She already had a bottle of Wiggenweld ready as she dodged the beast with just enough time for her to chug its bitter content, gritting her teeth at the itchy sensation of her skin rapidly healing before she could stand properly, and now focusing on the same Magic she’d cast in Hogsmeade days prior. The tingling sensation through her arms was now turning into a familiar feeling as she fiercely aimed her wand, the vibration racing through her chest as the beast imploded on itself – its tongue the only thing that curiously remained, flopping with a dull ‘smack’ on the rocky embankment.

Only then did Beatrice also notice the leafy remains of her Chinese Chomping Cabbages, both plants now lay unmoving as each successfully had a Dugbog tongue between what remained of their sharp teeth, while the amphibian beasts’ carcasses mostly had their eyes missing as well as a good chunk from their hides. Beatrice now agreed with Leander on how vicious this particular form of vegetation could be – yet it’d be a wiser reason for her to need more in the future.

Breathing deep and not wanting to put good potion ingredients to waste, Beatrice gingerly levitated the slimy Dugbog tongues into one of the glass jars she kept in her enchanted pockets – she’d already thought this would save her a few Galleons than actually just purchasing them, yet Beatrice was still reeling from having to actively fight to obtain these components.

After having cast a quick Reparo on her torn stocking and a cleansing charm to wipe off the slime from her Dragonhide gloves, Beatrice then secured it in her enchanted robe pockets, double checking that no water would break through into its contents before she fully dived back in the lake. Swimming forward with her head above the surface, Beatrice wasn’t quite sure what she’d expect inside the so-called grotto, but she gripped her wand tight in one hand even as she swam – quite prepared for any more threats that may appear.

The welcome touch of the cool waters against her burning skin made her strokes steady as she was greeted by the sight of stalagmites and stalactites that made up the cliff’s interior, her teeth gritted against the bite of cold air as Beatrice slowly trudged to the surface, warily eyeing the lone pedestal in front of a mural of the Giant Squid that occupies the lake. Though the last thing she expected was for it to seemingly come alive the moment she placed the piece of toast onto the pedestal, its depiction of consuming it acting like a key that made the eye of the Giant Squid light up before it crumbled the wall to form a circular entryway.

Running a hand through her wet hair to keep it from sticking to her face, she let the only sound of dripping water from her being echo in the inner chamber of the grotto, the air she breathed damp and coated with mildew as she took in the remaining furniture that made up the dim space. The only light that coalesced the interior came from a still lit lamp on writing desk wherein she spied a worn, dusty journal, the name fancily engraved on its hardbound face not coming as a surprise to Beatrice as to who it once belonged to, though as she skimmed through its weathered pages something caught her eye on one of the last journal entries—

That good for nothing Jackdaw! It wasn’t enough he came back as a headless ghost – he even had the gall to confess about why he sold my ring! Well Richard, not even death can give you the peace of mind to be with that filthy mudblood after I let the Ministry believe she was all to blame: both for the death of a Pure-blood and stealing from the Black family.

Beatrice’s blood ran cold, it wasn’t hard to imagine the Blacks were above accusing a Muggle-born of stealing from them, but to pin an actual murder of a wizard without due evidence? She dreaded the thought of what fate the witch that caught Apollonia’s ire met, all because of a now headless man – Richard Jackdaw… Beatrice’s mind reeled in thought at having to remember if there was one such ghost roaming the halls of Hogwarts, she could only come up with one who was nearly headless…

Eyes sweeping over what remained of the room, Beatrice then did one last cast of Revelio to see if she’d missed any enchantments that she failed to look over, finally spotting a lone, leather chest glowing behind a dressing screen. She tilted her head curiously though at only finding a torn piece of paper inside, presenting a bridge with a lit wand above it that indicated to what looked like floating candles… Another form of a Fire-making Charm perhaps? This was surely a different find from the usual scrolls Beatrice would find in chests, nor did this appear to be connected to the missing pages unless— this was a piece of a map that led to them? She thought it best to hang onto it for now.

Deducing that Apollonia’s grotto had nothing more to offer her, Beatrice swam back to shore where she promptly cast the Hot Air Charm on herself before walking towards where Scrope awaited her return, “Hello Scrope. Thanks to you, I was able to enter Apollonia’s grotto. But I’m sorry to say that I found a half-burnt note from a Richard Jackdaw confessing he sold the Black family ring long ago, the piece of paper crumbled just as I exited…” Beatrice chose to embellish her findings, wanting to hang onto Apollonia’s journal in the meantime to see if she’d come across the identity of the witch who was wrongfully accused of her crimes.

“Sad news indeed. Scrope shall need to think of another way to impress the Headmaster.” The house-elf shook his head woefully, though tutting as he continued, “Hmph. That boy was never good enough for Apollonia.”

“You know of Richard Jackdaw?” Beatrice now asked, intrigued.

“Of course. Scrope knew that boy held a candle for dear Apollonia, but rumour has it another witch snuck him a love potion to steal his attention. But Scrope just thinks that boy is fickle.” The house-elf waved a dismissive hand along his non-existent ear, drawing Beatrice’s own attention to it as the other held out a hand, “Come along now, young student. Scrope will Apparate you back. It was Scrope after all who led you this far away from the castle.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, Scrope, how did you injure your ear?” She’d stalled, mentally preparing herself for the dizzying after-effects that form of travelling would cause.

“The Blacks have a tradition of decapitating their house-elves when their service is no longer required. One day, dear Apollonia was understandably frustrated with Scrope and got a bit too eager with a cleaver. Scrope was able to convince the sweet girl of his value and now views this small injury as a reminder of her good heart.”

Well, that paints a picture, doesn’t it. A cleaver wielding witch, with the other bearing a love potion, both potentially dangerous – though fortunately the first was already deceased – yet all this over a now headless ghost named Richard Jackdaw. If he wasn’t the next lead Beatrice could think of in finding the missing pages, she’d rather not have opened this figurative can of worms to begin with.

Sighing in exasperation, she was just about to reach out for Scrope’s offered hand when a not-so familiar hoot kept getting closer. It wasn’t until an owl had impatiently dropped a note in her outstretched hand did Beatrice have time to read who it was from:

I am holding remedial classes today during Study period. I request you attend so that I may be able to teach you the Disarming Charm next.

– Professor Hecat

Sebastian flipped through the pages of the book he had in hand, finding interest in the topic of spells being modified using a similar source that created it – much like how some antidotes are created from the same base poison. Oddly enough, the subject reminded him of the curious scribbles he first saw in the Undercroft years ago.

Ominis didn’t know what they were but used it as a source of interest on why he chose Ancient Runes as an elective alongside Arithmancy. But for Sebastian however, he was more interested in the theory of Magic in itself – not surprising as his father was the one who used to teach the subject before his untimely demise.

Personally, he always thought it was a shame that the subject was only taught to 1^st years before it was well glossed upon until students decided to restudy the elective again on a more in-depth field in 6^th year. Maybe he could take up the subject again after he’d decided what N.E.W.T.s he’d take, but he wasn’t quite decided on his career path just yet, not while Anne was—

“I’d appreciate if we get these books sorted out sometime tomorrow. It’ll be the first weekend off from classes where we’re allowed to go to Hogsmeade, after all. Not to mention I’ve already made plans with someone…”

His focus was pulled from his thoughts then, eyebrow twitching as he decidedly snapped the book he was holding shut, thinking to slip it into his robes for future reading but hesitating on sneaking it away without Professor Fig’s permission – he’d have to take note of the title and ask for Beatrice’s help in borrowing it. Evenly stacking it onto the pile of books he’d been organizing, Sebastian then levelled his gaze on the Ravenclaw Prefect that was assigned to watch over his detention.

“Cheers on that then. Didn’t take you for the type to start chasing after skirts on our first week back in Hogwarts but then again… I really shouldn’t conventionalize you by your House alone.”

That said, what Sebastian only really knew about Andrew Larson was that the boy always seemed close to tears during their first couple years in Hogwarts, only hearing from the vine that the blond would cry for his mum or whoever. Not that it was something he would make fun about, Sebastian himself could empathize what it was like to lose not one, but two parents at a young age.

But then 3^rd year came around and he’d kept hearing from Anne about a Ravenclaw Keeper during her own Quidditch tryouts, gone was the boy who only kept his head down during their shared classes and in his place stood a taller boy who exuded a quiet confidence. Sebastian remembered how he couldn’t quite sit straight as he watched his twin during her first official Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, she was doing her best beating the Bludgers around and away from her teammates, but his fingers kept drumming against his thigh the whole game every time his House failed to score a Quaffle through the hoops.

Ultimately, despite their Seeker being the one to catch the Golden Snitch during the round, they still failed to garner enough points to win against their competition, which only made for an even more unforgettable day once Imelda had a conniption in their Common Room right after – going on a rant about Ravenclaw’s new “Golden Keeper”. He himself had observed how the other boy played though, finding it uncanny how the blond somehow knew when and where the Quaffle would be heading at, even dodging some ill-meaning Bludgers headed his way as if the Ravenclaw had known about it seconds away.

Despite the hushed whispers of admiration since that day though, Andrew Larson had remained amicable, with Ominis commenting he was one of the more pleasant Ravenclaws to ask for advice when it came to assignments, and even Anne would mellow down when she’d see the other boy nearby, but for Sebastian? There was just something about him that he couldn’t quite put a finger on, it was an uncanny feeling that made Sebastian decide it was best not to cross paths with the Ravenclaw too often. Which was why he turned down Imelda’s every demand for him to fill in for his twin’s sudden absence from the previous term’s last half of the Quidditch season – a 7^th year was more than eager enough to take on Slytherin’s vacant Beater position anyway – which made Sebastian all the more relieved that the sport had been cancelled for the most part this term as he didn’t think he’d be able to hold off Imelda’s persistence in getting him to try out for the team.

Hence why he inadvertently chose to take up duelling instead – he didn’t have anything against flying in general, he just preferred to keep his feet firmly on the ground. In a way, it helped hone his concentration – predicting his opponent’s next set of spells based on their body movement – though he may have admittedly been a bit distracted during his first duel with Beatrice…

“It’s nothing like that, I – well, it’s more like a study session and whatnot, nothing more.” Larson replied, letting out an awkward cough into his closed fist as he ducked behind the stack of books he was also helping to arrange, trying to hide his reddening ears yet Sebastian had already noticed it all the same, prompting a smirk to form on his own features as he saw a sense of semblance of the once bashful classmate he knew of before the Ravenclaw had turned into the unflappable Prefect that stood before him.

“Ah of course, nothing like partaking in some tidbit of knowledge instead of just withholding it after all. Though I’d advise keeping your own set of secrets from the fairer folk, best to give them a sense of mystery.” It was meant to sound teasing, but Larson already seemed prepared on a retort of his own.

“I’d say it’s better to keep your personal proclivities to yourself, instead of sneaking other students into otherwise restricted areas.” The resounding thud as the other boy placed a set of books was deafening as his gaze steadily met Sebastian’s, this made him stand up straight from where he was first just casually leaning against the bookcase as he watched the Ravenclaw seemingly assess him.

“And here I thought you of all people would agree that knowledge should be without its limits –”

“But there is wisdom in knowing when to push those limits, Sallow.” The other sighed, an all too familiar sound of exasperation Sebastian was tired of hearing as the Ravenclaw then looked away, rubbing at his forehead wearily, “I know you’re just trying to help Beatrice, but showing her your way of things might only end up getting you both in trouble the next time.”

Sebastian’s teeth audibly clicked together as he snapped his jaw shut, clenching and unclenching his hands at feeling that familiar wave of annoyance at being told what to do – to stop looking for a cure, that there was no other way to help Anne, yet – His spiraling train of thought slowed at the sudden intrusion of an unfamiliar owl, hooting as it entered through an open window they’d left to air the dust out, he watched it circle the room once before it landed near the other boy to deliver a blue envelope. A letter? What were the chances that it was from Beatrice? Sebastian did not have a name for the bitter taste that thought left in his mouth.

“It seems you’re excused from the rest of today’s detention.”

“What?” The question came out harsher than he was intending as Sebastian’s mind was still reeling from his previous thoughts.

“Professor Hecat requires your attendance in a D.A.D.A. remedial class she’s about to have right now. Though I don’t know why since you’re already top of that class…” Sebastian heard the blond mumble the last part, yet this made him perk up at the thought that Beatrice most likely will be there, suddenly feeling lighter as he rushed to put on his school robe and gather his other belongings, not even bothering to exchange pleasantries with the other boy on his way out.

September 4, 1890

I write these in order to clear my thoughts of what has so far been another busy day in just my first week in Hogwarts, starting by bringing the book that I found below the Restricted Section to Professor Fig. He was impressed, but disappointed to find that several pages were missing. He wants to study the book and see if he can glean any information from it, though he had to urgently leave for the Ministry earlier, only urging me to focus on my studies in the meantime but I think we are going to need those pages sooner rather than later.

Still, I did as Professor Fig had told me and learned a bit more about the practical uses of Dittany as I attended my Herbology class, while also encountering a spot of trouble with an overly ripe Mandrake. That said, Professor Garlick had then assigned me a classmate to demonstrate how to tend and deploy a ferocious type of flora aptly called the Chinese Chomping Cabbage. They’ve proven their usefulness in a dire situation I’ve encountered, and if I take into consideration Leander’s advice on how to ‘train’ them, then I’m more than keen to figure out how to grow even more of these plants.

After that, Potions class was a slightly more challenging course as I tried my hand in brewing my own batch of Wiggenweld Potion – a concoction which I find comes in handy, especially with any future predicaments I might encounter. Keeping in mind how I need to find my own brewing station when the time comes, as well as know where to procure some of the ingredients Professor Sharp already had in order for me to brew an Edurus Potion. I think it would be more cost-effective on my end to find them in the wild instead…

There was also the curious case of a boy using what I would presume would be Legilimency on me – it was a jarring experience, yet didn’t have any malicious intent from what I’ve sensed, so I just curiously observed – adding the fact that I’ve always seen him nearby Sebastian so he must be a friend. Though it does seem concerning how he’s being judged by his family’s ‘dark practices’ from what I’ve garnered so far – especially from Natty, who speaking of which, had asked to meet me in the nearby town of Lower Hogsfield, where she’d voiced her concerns about Ranrok and Rookwood pursuing me.

Unfortunately, despite her wanting to come up with a strategy to help, I could not risk her safety by unwittingly divulging the strange magic they were after from me. I know she has her doubts, especially after seeing how I fought the Ashwinders we encountered who were harassing an innocent bystander, but even though it pains me to keep any of my friends in the dark, their safety must come first until this is over with.

In the meantime, I’ll lessen the guilt by helping anyone I encounter along the way, much like Nora Treadwell who was the one being harassed while researching something called the Merlin Trials. I was able to help her solve the curious puzzle, and upon learning there was more out there, I should try and find out if I’d get any treasures out of solving any of them. Speaking of which, the Lake is also an interesting place to explore now that I’ve got a Mermaid Mask from a classmate named Grace – it gave me the ability to breath and clearly see underwater while she asked me to retrieve her grandfather's lost astrolabe – though ultimately, I'm glad I was able to bring her family a bit of closure around the fate of her grandparents.

Lastly, I’ve been given a trail from a house-elf named Scrope who contacted me about the missing pages. He recalled his previous mistress, Apollonia Black, speaking of pages being ripped from a book, though my subsequent swim towards her private grotto where he believes it was taken alongside a family ring, he was keen on finding ended up in vain. I secretly hung onto the deceased lady’s journal in hopes to find out more about this Richard Jackdaw who she lastly wrote about – could he be the one who last saw those ripped pages? He did sell her family ring after all and seemed to have chosen a Muggle over her, though I am left with no additional clues on how to proceed from here.

I hope Professor Fig wouldn’t find fault in me starting my own investigation of the missing pages, I’m still keeping up with my studies as I sit here in my remedial class for D.A.D.A. after completing my assignment of successfully dodge rolling and testing Incendio in the field. I’m more than quite excited for Professor Hecat to instruct me on using the Disarming Charm."

Protego or better yet the act of deflecting Expelliarmus in particular was the main topic in today’s class as Sebastian lazily watched Clopton and Imelda’s demonstration. He tried to maintain his focus on Professor Hecat’s subsequent explanation of better forms to maintain a more durable Shield Charm, especially against a well-aimed Expelliarmus, but his eyes kept wandering towards a certain classmate who seemingly wore one of the older variations of their school’s robes. Granted the circumstances of Beatrice’s arrival made her exempt from the usual dress code with whatever spare uniform the school could provide her with, the otherwise garment they’d once considered to be too “House fanatical” did look quite tasteful on her…

As if feeling eyes on her, Beatrice looked up from whatever it was she was writing to instinctively meet his gaze from across the aisle – she blinked once, as if curious as to why he was attending a remedial class of a subject she was sure he was already good at, before Sebastian afforded her a playful wink, earning a smile from her in return that had his stomach flipping just as Hecat passed by between them during her lecture. Sebastian awkwardly sat a bit sideways on his bench in the guise that he was attentively listening but he only continued to quietly observe Beatrice as her attention now stayed on their mentor, he’d already noticed by then how she rarely took notes in their classes unless otherwise told, her green eyes instead would intently focus on how a certain spell would first be executed, before trying her hand at it next, which really says something on how quickly she picks up on spell-casting—

“What are the chances of Protego holding up against a dragon’s fiery breath?”

Hearing that simple question muttered close to him just as Hecat said the last of today’s lecture made Sebastian turn to his other side and see Sweeting eagerly jotting away on her notes based on their professor’s academic explanation. While familiar with the Hufflepuff due to some of their shared classes, Sebastian wasn’t quite sure how to gauge her prowess in D.A.D.A. as they’re usually placed in different sections based on their mastery of a particular subject, however that wouldn’t stop him from sharing any input that might prove useful later on—

“Keep your wand firmly in front of your face, just inches enough away so it would be your arm that’s facing the heat, then plant your feet far apart as you brace your knees for the fumes’ impact.”

His answer stopped Sweeting from her writing as she blinked up owlishly at him as if she wasn’t expecting anyone to reply to her self-muttered thoughts, “But there’s also the possibility that a dragon might use their maw instead. Would a simple Protection charm withstand even that?”

Sebastian shook his head as he proceeded to stand up, “The trick is to never hesitate, one moment of reluctance could prove fatal in any form of defence.” He reiterated, emphasizing with his hands as the Hufflepuff followed him out of their class but not before noticing that her eyes momentarily strayed towards Beatrice who was heading towards the front of the room where Hecat stood waiting – Sebastian barely missing how Oggspire slipped a note into the Ravenclaw’s robe as she passed.

“I hate to see any creature get put down like that, but trolls have no business in Hogsmeade.” Sweeting’s quiet comment had Sebastian raising his brows, but the Hufflepuff had already awkwardly thanked him and was rushing off before he could retort, words caught in his tongue as his brows now furrowed at seeing who came to greet him just outside the classroom’s door.

“And here I thought you had better places to be, Larson.”

“Not until I’ve done my end of this bargain, Sallow. Then we get to decide how we spend our free time afterwards.” His smile was too pleasant in Sebastian’s opinion, catching how the Ravenclaw’s eyes briefly flicked towards the emptying D.A.D.A. classroom, which made him subconsciously step in front the other boy’s line of sight.

“The better you help me in my detention, the soonest we can go our merry ways then.” Sebastian emphasized, crossing his arms in quiet retaliation as to what – or better yet who – the other boy was hoping to meet just before then.

“My thoughts, exactly.” Larson’s smile now almost looked like a grimace as his focus directed towards the Slytherin, shaking his head as he turned around to lead the way. Sebastian relaxed as he also tried to get one last glimpse towards where Beatrice might still be, but the door to their classroom had already closed.

Addendum:

A curious note from Nellie after my extra D.A.D.A. class had me interacting with their House ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, he seemed to have also gotten wind of the missing pages I was in search for and wanted to help connect me to Richard Jackdaw's ghost – who Sir Nicholas said was “back from his travels”. Though to do so, I had to help him pilfer some rotten roast beef from the Hogwarts kitchen. Sir Nicholas hoped to use it to gain favour with Sir Patrick and be accepted to the Headless Hunt, but unfortunately, he still doesn't qualify since he was never fully decapitated. It took near the end of the Hunt for me to verify that Jackdaw failed to come in attendance this year, and my night would have been for naught had I not come across his grave. There amongst the dried candle wax and withered flower stems I found another piece of the same parchment I’d discovered from Apollonia Black’s grotto, though this one only contained a weathered sketch of what looked to be a cluster of trees. I’m now back where I started, with no clue how to proceed from here…

Recounting the day’s events, Beatrice leaned back on her bed’s frame, gaze wandering from her open journal as she stared out unseeing pass her dorm room’s window. She had the dreamstone Natty asked her to safekeep clutched in her hand, agreeing with the Gryffindor how its cool, smooth surface felt grounding in her palm when she could just barely find her footing in this new, magical community.

Another thing that plagued her mind were her dreams, memories Beatrice thought she’d come to terms with especially upon learning Occlumency, but the past nights seemed to have lasted longer – growing more vivid, as if the stench from that night still clings in the air…

Snapping her journal close as she huddled in the covers of her bed, Beatrice tried not to think of the lingering murmurs that she could now practically feel off her classmates’ minds, closing her eyes and mind off from the echoes of thought. The last of her consciousness worried whether she’d have to ask Sebastian’s friend for any pointers on Legilimency, the Gaunt seemed to keep to himself yet— There was something about him that evoked familiarity, like a forgotten lullaby she could barely remember…

Chapter Text

Chapter 11.1

“I’ll come find you.”

I hung onto that simple promise for as long as I could remember – my only solace upon being thrust into this new environment. Nana was gone and, in her place, my grandfather’s estranged older sister came for me.

Compared to the simple way of life Nana had wanted me to take, here at St. Margaret’s, I was soon to learn that it was not a simple orphanage ran by a convent of nuns alone – I had to prove I was worthy to stay here.

Rubbing frustratingly at my eyes, I gingerly hugged my knees close to my chest as I tried to contain the sniffles that would divulge my hiding spot. The angel statue’s folded wings were wide enough that I took shelter under its marbled form as I sullenly glared at the wooden object that I haphazardly threw by my feet.

It should have been a wand I was honing now, not this- this sword! What if my letter from Hogwarts came to my old home when I’m no longer there? And what about Draco? I haven’t had the chance to tell him where to find me – if only I could fly my way out of here—

“Shouldn’t you be back practicing with the others?”

Flinching despite not wanting to look up, I stubbornly kept my eyes on the pair of legs that stopped in front of my supposed sanctuary as I kept mum, hoping my silence would somehow magically turn me invisible. Though that didn’t seem to be the case as the other girl now crouched down in front of me, her mop of dark curls barely contained past the headband she wore, curious hazel eyes waiting for my response as she tilted her head. She looked to be one of the older girls here.

“Hey, aren’t you that wee lass related to Mother Superior?”

I hesitated answering her as I avoided her gaze and replied in a quiet voice, “I don’t want to…”

“…Don’t want to what?” She’d paused, her impish smile barely contained as she raised a palm to her face, “Go back to your training or be here with your only living relative...? Either way, this is a far better place than any of the orphanages out in the city.”

I suddenly felt a pang of guilt for being ungrateful, a part of me somehow knew this girl was speaking the truth, but I just can’t help expecting something… more magical, perhaps? My first week was only filled with strict rules and curriculums that I could barely keep up with-

“Have you had time to visit the nearby town at least?”

That sudden question jolted me out of my sulking as I hesitated with a reply, “I- I’m not even allowed to go out of these walls—”

“Sure you are!” The older girl replied most jubilantly as she slapped both hands on her thighs as she moved to stand, glancing about as if to make sure no one heard her, before looking back at me with a smirk as she now mumbled, “Just think of it as part of your training of sorts.” She winked then, coaxing me to follow her as we sneaked to a more secluded part of the stone walls that encompassed the convent’s grounds – this one faced the cliffs that overlooked the ocean.

“Are you trying to get us both killed? Or worse, if we get caught sneaking out??” I whispered in rising panic.

“If you’d rather die not knowing, than you’re more than welcome to trot back along to your fencing practice.” She nonchalantly retorted, pulling back a part of the grate near the ground to reveal an opening just big enough for us to crawl out of.

Fidgeting with the wooden sword I ended up carrying alongside with me, I nervously looked around the empty courtyard to decide whether to follow this strange girl, before ultimately crouching down and crawling after her. It wasn’t until she pulled back the grate in place behind us that I knew I sealed my fate.

“Well then, let’s see what the townsfolk has to offer us!”

The closest town was a mere 10-minute walk downhill, a portside could be seen near the white cliffs where St. Margaret’s stood like a quiet beacon near the adjacent lighthouse. Our short and quiet stroll was soon engulfed with the buzzling sounds of the town’s activities – fishing boats seeming to have returned from their morning catch for the day, as the nearby market overflowed with today’s catch. The town’s bakery seemed to be in full swing as well as I caught the scent of freshly baked bread and pastries – my stomach grumbled in response, knowing I hadn’t eaten a proper meal that I really wanted aside from what the convent provided us with.

Upon seeing the other girl I was with casually strolling towards the bakery’s window counter, I stopped in my tracks in mortification, thinking she may have heard my pangs of hunger as she briefly chatted with the lady who seemed to manage the shop – she handed over a couple of parcels to my companion, who motioned towards me to follow her.

It wasn’t after we’d passed by a few corners down the street did she hand me something that smelled absolutely delicious. I watched dumbstruck while she bit into her own before I realized this was my share of the treat – the bits of cinnamon apple in the still warm muffin melted on my tongue as I started eating heartily, awkwardly saying my thanks in between bites.

“This isn’t for free though.” She began, a cheeky grin on her face as she chewed, “Now it’s time to make our rounds and deliveries!”

The sun was already setting by the time we came back to the beach overlooked by St. Margaret’s; I drew nonsensical scribbles on the sand with my wooden sword as I let my older companion count the pouches of payment she managed to collect for the day. Watching the waves drag my drawings away, I gazed out onto the horizon wistfully thinking what awaited me now in this place until the other girl’s murmurs turned to humming before I sat down beside her in the rocky embankment.

“Is this why being a Joan is a privilege at St. Margaret’s? You get to go out and experience freedom unlike the rest of the sisters?” I blatantly asked, not bothering to beat around the bush now that I knew why we could even stay out this late away from the convent.

“Of course, it also takes responsibility-” She’d hummed out, arms leaned back as she now gazed upon the dusky sky after having organized the pouches on her belt, “-and trust. Something you seemed to have gained just so you’re related to Mother Superior by proxy.”

I looked away as her gaze settled on me, the crimson light made her look almost mocking as I busied my hands by chipping at the wooden handle of my practice sword, “How did you earn their trust then?” I blurted out mostly like a retort and did not dare look back at her.

“I grew up here.” She’d replied, matter-of-factly, before adding a second later, “Until I found my parents dead.”

My hands stilled, head slowly turning to face her, but she now had a faraway look as she stared towards the horizon. The setting sun highlighted her glassy eyes for just a second before it was gone in a blink of an eye.

“And so, I am here, as well as you.” She slapped both hands on her thighs as she made to stand, fixing me an almost tender look, "Now, all you have to do is survive."

"But... what if I'm not strong enough to do so...?" I sulked, my future here still seeming daunting and uncertain.

"Whoever said anything about strength, lass?" She snickered at me, crouching yet again to where I still sat as she gave me the same impish smile she'd bore before inviting me out earlier in the day, "You, just need to outsmart them."

And despite the obvious look of disbelief I knew was on my face, this older girl seemed undaunted, holding out a hand to then say, "The name's Ophelia, by the way, pleasure to take you under my wing."

Seasons passed and fencing practice was paired with ballet, dexterity in embroidery was put to good use in basic first aid and hours of etiquette were tempered with lessons in horticulture and history. All of which I learned in the next two years—

“The youngest Joan of her time! I only became one when I was 15." Ophelia clapped my shoulder after the ceremonies - our graduation, of sorts - though I had to pull her to a secluded alcove to quietly ask, "And where will you be now?" There had never been two Joans from what I've studied about in St. Margaret's.

"Me? I will be writing." She gave me a long meaningful look, of a personal journey she'd long planned even before I had entered the convent, "Be it as it may, I think there is a better time to discuss this, especially when I'm not the only one eager to talk to you today." Ophelia nodded up towards the balustrade where the Mother Superior was sat on her wheelchair, seemingly able to see us all despite her irises having turned milky white due to cataract.

"I'm sure she's proud of you as well." Ophelia tried to reassure, but I always had my doubts.

Mother Superior Agatha, or my grandaunt as I knew of her, had barely interacted with me over the 2 years I've been here - leaving most of my training and tutelage under Ophelia's guidance.

Not to say she was negligent, no – she had always been in the wings, silently giving me a cursory glance on what I’d achieved for the day. Once her eyesight started failing a year prior though, my nights were spent in her private quarters, helping her to learn Braille and assisting to jot down in her journal that she’d insisted she dictate only to me.

That's why I did not know how to reply to her next words, my breath seemingly held as if waiting for the next pin to drop as I held the sword in my hands.

“Did you find it, child?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then it is yours.”

“But this is—”

“Your grandfather gave it to me from one of his digs, before he met your grandmother, that is. Since then, that brother of mine had never been the same…”

She had never talked about my Nana before, a part of me had a sense that she did not approve of their union, moreso if she ever found out about her magical heritage.

“Though I think it is only right that you’re given what you’ve earned. Your own grandfather would have wanted nothing less.”

“But is this not a property of the convent, Mother Superior?” I’d blurted, still at a loss for words.

“In my will, it is. But as long as you are now Joan, then the responsibility of wielding St. Catherin falls into your hands, not anyone else’s.”

I let those words sink in, weighing the legendary sword in my hand – rumored to have been the very sword Joan of Arc wielded herself – I marveled at the smooth ivory handle. It was surprisingly warm to touch as I grasped it, a mixture of both apprehension and exhilaration bubbling inside me—

“There is also one last thing you must know. Come, sit here.” Mother Superior patted on the chair situated beside the wheelchair where she sat on, “I’d like you to transcribe this part for me.”

Sitting somewhat awkwardly beside where she’d indicated, I lay the sheathed sword across my lap, feeling like a paperweight that held me in place as I let my fingers trace the arrangement of raised dots on her journal. It was easier to do it with my eyes closed as I muttered what I’ve so far deciphered, before pausing midway on what was written—

“This is...” It was already a will, that I was certain, and the new Mother Superior to-be was Mother Lucille – one of the older members of St. Margaret’s – who also oversaw our academic performance these past 2 years. It was inevitable, yet it was still staggering to come to terms with one’s mortality, especially that of the only relative I had left.

Seeming to have heard the slight hitch in my breath as I blinked pass this slowly sinking realization, my grandaunt patted my hand that was still on her desk, “Death comes for everyone, my dear, it only differs with how we choose to meet our end. Would you rather be unprepared and let him come like a thief in the night, or to have left a legacy and greet Death with dignity?”

Her hand now held firmly onto mine, no longer warm but clammy, yet the lines near her unseeing eyes showcased a rare, serene smile.

Hello my dear B,

This was a quick scribble to let you know I’ve safely settled in Calais. I might stay here in the meantime before heading to the capital. Keep me posted and remember, if you ever get tired of the sisterhood, you know where to find me.

All my love,

P

It had been 3 months since Ophelia had left St. Margaret’s, and being 18 of age, she was free to choose whether to stay or go out on her on. It had also taken that grueling time for our formidable Mother Superior to slowly deteriorate, until ultimately, my grandaunt succumbed in her sleep.

A peaceful way to go, yet as I stood unblinking behind my black veil, there was nothing tranquil about the steady downpour of rain that loomed over the funeral service. I may have been dry under an umbrella, but I felt cold even under these layers of black – my hand numb as it closed around the rose I held above her coffin – before I let it go. My breath came out shaky as I just watched its crimson petals be slowly, but surely, buried by shovels of soil.

I was alone, yet again.

The rapid thumping of my pulse was the only thing I could focus on as wind whipped pass my face, the nearby scent of the sea growing sharper as I neared the docks.

“Jo-”

My hands were steady as I gripped the wooden ledge that made up one of the warehouses’ sides, my legs giving me the boost I needed in scaling the short distance towards the roof I pulled myself up on—

“Joan-”

He had just passed by beneath the alleyway; I could just drop down and— My hand paused at the hilt of unsheathing St. Catherin – no, I would not let this scum stain my blade. Instead, I reached behind me as I swung over the crossbow I also had brought, pulling back its string towards the nut as I prepared to take aim. Waiting for him to walk just a bit farther away as I spotted him from behind, focusing on the purple scarf wrapped around his neck that would soon turn crimson—

“Beatrice!”

I was suddenly pulled away, rolled onto my back with the crossbow tossed over the other edge of the roof. The arrow would have hit true yet it set his top hat flying instead – if I could still get another shot! I was hearing growling yet I could only reach out and fight against the one holding me back – stopping me from giving Ophelia justice—

“Pull yourself together!” A blooming sharpness on my cheek brought me back to the present, tearing the breath out of me as I swallowed once – twice, then against the ache in my throat – wondering if I was the one making that animalistic sound from earlier. The heat of the crossbow’s grip still clung to my palm – proof that I would’ve done it. That I’d wanted to. That grim realization I had was soon drowned out by the panicked screams coming from the streets below.

“You’ve almost exposed the sisterhood to danger!” Lucille, our newly ordained Mother Superior hissed, looking at me as if I’ve gone mad... though maybe I have.

Weeks I had stayed inside St. Margaret’s walls, the stones that once felt like a stronghold that protected me, now felt like a prison. No longer was I allowed to go out and do my duties as Joan, maybe they had me replaced and am now awaiting judgement for just trying to prevent the very source that caused Ophelia her fate.

I traced the insignia she’d drawn on her last latter, the very same mark I saw branded on her bruised skin when I came to identify her body at the morgue – a clue on her parents’ murderer – she’d traced him to France yet… I gripped the bit of cloth that was enclosed with it – the exact same purple cloth from the scarf he wore…

“He usually drops by the docks every fortnight.”

That was what I had gotten from the local fishermen, though I doubt he’d be coming back as often after the reckless stunt I had pulled. Swayed by emotions yet again, when will you ever learn, Beatrice.

And there was also the question of how close I had come to crossing a line I couldn’t return from… No absolution. No atonement. Just the aftermath of a single choice. If I had the chance again, would I still pull the trigger?

I wasn’t sure what frightened me more: that I nearly did it… or that I still wanted to.

Cradling my head in my hands, I was kept from denigrating myself any further by a firm knock on my door, “Beatrice. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” It seems my judgement has come to pass as I had no choice but to follow after Mother Lucille.

“Assuming you’ve thought things through since that incident which almost made you go against your oath, you are still permitted to stay here at St. Margaret’s.” Our steps echoed around us like a countdown nearing its crescendo as she continued to speak, “Granted, you learn the repercussions of wanting to take another’s life.”

Not when he could very well be doing the same heinous crime while we let him run afoot! I bit my tongue against my thoughts, staring steadily at Mother Lucille as she turned to meet my gaze as we stopped by an enclosed door, “Now you must protect a life as if it were  your own.”

Inside, I was met with a young lady – no older than me, perhaps – though she was made up to look more elegant as her fiery crimson locks seemed to be fighting to be let loose from their bun. Her eyes of deep blue tried to look back at me with defiance, though I still noticed the quiver from her laced hands.

“Beatrice, I’d like you to meet your charge, Lady Cassidy Creevey.”

Her vision was blurry as she awoke to the silent morning, feeling the last traces of wetness that trickled down the sides of her face. It wasn’t the part of her past that she feared, though it wasn’t something she was fond on recollecting either.

Wiping a hand to her cheeks while the other rubbed at the numbness seemingly spreading in her chest, Beatrice slowly rose to sit up, her quiet sniffle drowned out by Constance’s boisterous awakening.

“Girls, wake up! Madam Kogawa’s back, and you know what that means?” A thump could be heard as the blonde practically jumped from her upper bunk, “We get to practice Quidditch during Flying class!”

Her early morning exuberance was met with a groan as Samantha mostly croaked from the bottom bunk, “Pipe it down, Constance… Most people are still actually sleeping.”

“Well, contrary to what you just said, I do actually see Beatrice wide awake now— Are you alright though?” Constance’s playful jabbing came to an immediate halt as she took in the other’s puffy eyes and slightly red nose.

“I will be, don’t worry—”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Samantha’s still sleepy tone now had a hint of worry as rustling could be heard from her bed.

“Really, everything’s fine. It’s just… dreams. ” Beatrice tried to assure, busying herself in making her bed as she fully rose, “Nothing an early start with a mug of hot cocoa for breakfast won’t fix.” She finished with a soft smile towards Constance.

“Well, if you’re sure…” The other hesitated, not wanting to push, so she settled on something to look forward to for the morning, “Make sure to add Hogwarts’ best scones on your plate too, they range from chocolate to all kinds of berries!”

A hearty breakfast was definitely something Beatrice wouldn’t say no to as she followed Constance out the door to freshen up for the day first. “We’ll give you 5 minutes to catch up, Sam. If you’re not up and about once we come back from the baths, I’ll be sure to eat all the crepe cakes on our table.” Constance made one last call as they both headed out.

“Just give me 10 more minutes…” Samantha groaned, already sat up by her headboard but it was clear she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open.

Beatrice smiled at her roommates’ antics, finding reprieve in these light hearted moments before she had to face what today had in store for her.

Breakfast was a quick but nice affair, with Samantha having gotten to catch up at their breakfast table despite still yawning halfway through her plate. Andrew had also been there with Everett, leaving Amit at their dorm room to sleep in, as the aspiring astronomer had spent all night studying the stars again. Duncan however was still not speaking to either of his former friends.

“I hope I didn’t add to your burdens by making you oversee Sebastian’s detention?” Beatrice had quietly asked Andrew as they trailed behind the rest of their group on their way out the Great Hall.

“As it turns out, if we both weren’t avid readers who easily got distracted by Professor Fig’s extensive collection of books, we could have already been done yesterday. So it seems I have just this afternoon to see how we organize the remaining titles and maybe… smuggle the rest into our own dorm rooms?”

His thoughtful look earned a soft laugh from Beatrice, “Well, it makes me feel better to know you’re both making good use of your time.” She then instinctually rubbed her hands over her arms as they exited the warmth of the castle’s walls, the early morning air just before autumn in the Highlands had a frigid bite to it.

“Here, let me.” Before Beatrice could react to Andrew pointing the tip of his wand onto the middle of her back, a comforting warmth spread through the sleeves of her robe like a welcome embrace. “I’ll be sure to teach you this Warming Charm tomorrow on our trip to Hogsmeade.” He smiled with the same warmth Beatrice now felt enveloping her as he comically pulled out a whole broom from his Quidditch robe – Wait, that wasn’t the same robe she had given back to him—

“Likewise, I’d be sure to make you master your Extension Charm so you don’t go about transfiguring your one good robe.” She grinned back at him upon this realization.

“It’s a date then.” He winked and flashed her a smile, before kicking off on his broom to fly after Constance on their way to the Quidditch pitch, leaving Beatrice with a flutter in her chest that felt both familiar yet foreign at the same time.

“Who do you think will fall from their broom first?”

Her gaze flitted over a Hufflepuff student as Beatrice followed Samantha and Everett into Flying Class before a voice called out, “Everybody grab a broom and we shall get started.”

Doing just that, Beatrice also followed what most of her classmates did by laying it on the ground and standing beside it, raising a brow towards Everett’s way as he kept twisting and turning the one he still had in his hand—

“Mr. Clopton – your attention, please.”

“Sorry, Madam Kogawa.” Chastised, Everett finally put down his broom before their professor now regarded Beatrice, gesturing her way as she continued to walk down the parallel row of students in her class, “Everyone please welcome a new student to our Flying Class.”

A chorus of welcomes and hellos were heard as Beatrice smiled shyly and nodded at some of the familiar faces.

“The goal of today is to remind all of you how to manoeuvre on a broomstick safely, as broom flight is first and foremost a means of transportation. This, I fear, some of you have forgotten.” Madam Kogawa each gave them a glance, shaking her head as she gave Clopton a discerning look, to which he only gave a non-committal shrug.

“Diving, rolling and loop-the-loops will not be taught or, in fact, tolerated in this class – we’ll leave that to professional Quidditch players like the Toyohashi Tengu.”

“Boo.” The very blatant remark surprised Beatrice, eyeing the Gryffindor across her who she recognized from her first Crossed Wands duel with Sebastian – Davies, if her memory served her correct.

“Not a fan, I take it.” Kogawa turned towards the younger student before facing the class, “Now, let’s see how well everyone kept up with their practice over the summer holidays.” She finished with a clap of her hands, “For those who need a refresher, step up to your broom, say ’up’ firmly and clearly, then kick your leg over and rest your weight on the seat.” Beatrice closely watched Kogawa’s demonstration and added appreciation towards her own broom, “Now, your turn!”

She now stood silent amongst the chorus of ‘Ups!” as Beatrice observed how her other classmates fared, noting with curiosity how some of the brooms would simply roll on the ground, while others wouldn’t move at all. “Up! You stupid, ratty school broom!” A whack was then heard, followed by a snicker from Everett as Beatrice watched the broom seemingly retaliate to Davies’ insult by smacking him straight on the face with its wooden handle before going limp on the ground once again.

Biting her lip as she kept her voice steady, Beatrice then tried to summon her broom with a firm ‘Up!’ – pleasantly surprised when it jumped into her hand at once – feeling the warmth off its wood as she gripped it firmly.

“One leg over so there’s a leg on each side – none of that side-saddle nonsense, a gust of wind will throw you right off.” Madam Kogawa called over, slowly hovering up from her perch as she watched each of her students mount their brooms.

Grateful for following Samantha’s advice that they wear their school trousers today, Beatrice did as was instructed and let her feet dangle on both sides, slightly unsteady in hovering up as she tried to find a more comfortable seating position – she wondered if they had ones with a sort of saddle of cushion at least.

“And, if you hear my whistle while you’re in flight, ground yourself at once.” Kogawa lastly instructed as Beatrice watched as each of her other classmates flew off in varying degrees of speed into some nearby set of hoops.

“Good. Now: for your first lesson, fly through each ring in the courtyard. Do take care. The brooms are school property. I want them returned in one piece.” Kogawa called after her students as she hovered from a higher vantage point.

“This’ll take some getting used to. Wish I had my own broom.” Then maybe she could have had time to practice the basics while under Fig’s tutelage during the past summer. Beatrice’s breaths were shallow as she sat tense on her broom, worried that a slight error in movement could cause the otherwise magical object to decide to topple her off it.

Her breath caught, not from fear, but from something else entirely. There was a fluttering in her stomach as she levitated higher – a swell of disbelief – of exhilaration. As if carried by something she couldn’t quite name, like the hush before a leap or the stillness just before rain. The wind threaded through her hair, and for a heartbeat, she forgot to be nervous at all.

It was similar yet entirely different to how she learned to ride horses back in St. Margaret’s – for one, she didn’t feel her stomach drop as her feet dangled hundreds of feet off the ground much like right now. Yet, it was familiar in how she thought these brooms might somehow be sentient in their own way, relaxing her thighs as she only used one hand to hold onto the wooden handle, breathing evenly as Beatrice slowly steered her broom through the elevated rings.

“Good grip!” Kogawa flew close to her and stopped to assess as Beatrice passed through the third ring slowly but seamlessly, “Well done. Now that you’re acclimatized to your broom, let’s see how well you manage with a more advanced exercise, shall we?” Her professor nodded towards the Greenhouses, “The next set of rings shall take you around the grounds – for more of a challenge.”

Breathing deeply as she observed how some of her classmates flew faster, Beatrice then leant forward and grasped the wooden handle tightly in both hands as she positioned the heels of her feet to brush the upper bristles of the broom, making her shoot forward, “What a view.” She then mused to herself quietly as she passed over the Greenhouses’ courtyard, carefully maneuvering her broom to a lower ring along the castle’s walls.

“Hello. Nice day for a flight.” Everett greeted as he whizzed pass, momentarily breaking Beatrice’s steady course as she steered a sharp right after passing through the next ring situated over the lake.

“Made it. Did anyone else see that?” She couldn’t help breathe a sigh of relief as she held firm and flew after her Housemate.

“Ah, the old Boathouse! Wish you could’ve experienced crossing the lake as a first-year!”

Beatrice couldn’t help but remember the study session she had with Sebastian overlooking the said Boathouse as she and Everett flew under the rocky piers that held the stairs leading to the Great Hall. Her drifting thoughts were reeled in as Everett let out a surprised remark as he steered his broom upwards, “Our aquatic resident likes to make an appearance once in a while!”

“Ah!” Beatrice gasped narrowly avoiding the Giant Squid’s tentacles which emerged from the water in a seemingly friendly wave, as she flew through the light spray of water it caused. She combed a hand through her now slightly damp locks as she pulled the broom’s handle upward – pass the lake’s shore and over a waterfall that held the last couple of rings she had to finish for today’s lesson, “Brilliant!” She cheered and so did Everett who looked like he was waiting for her through the last ring.

“Well done! Have a moment?”

Putting weight on the proverbial seat of her broom as she pulled at the broom’s handle to stop near where her Housemate hovered, Beatrice already had an inkling what Everett was planning just by seeing the mischievous look spread on his face.

“I say, I watched you fly through those rings. You seem to handle yourself on that dusty school broom well enough. I’d imagine you’re ready for something a bit more – challenging. So, care to join me for a bit of high-flying fun?”

A knowing smile threatened to break through her features, but Beatrice let an exasperated sigh escaped her lips instead, picking her next words carefully, “Kogawa seems strict. I wouldn’t want to get into trouble.”

“Kogawa won’t even notice. Besides, a bird doesn’t learn how to fly by staying in the nest. Follow me, if you change your mind!”

He had a point, and she was itching to test the limits of her capabilities when it came to flying. It took a second for Beatrice to worry her lower lip, watching as Everett slowly hovered away before finally deciding with a shrug of her shoulders that she had nothing better to do between now and Kogawa’s signal for their class to end – they might even make it if they fly fast enough.

“The tour is about to begin. Follow closely now.” Everett said over his shoulder, seeming not the least bit surprised Beatrice ended up agreeing, “Right now we’re flying over the Transfiguration Courtyard. Lovely as ever.” They then turned a sharp right towards a set of bridges that led to what she recognized as one of the towers leading to their own common room, air rushed through her quickly drying hair and her robes whipped out behind her as they flew under the stone pillars.

“Let’s hope the Headmaster isn’t having tea by the window today.”

Beatrice could barely hear Everett’s commentary as blood pounded in her ears and they continued to soar up to view the Viaduct Bridge, heading between the spires that enclosed the Viaduct Courtyard, “Nice to get above it all, isn’t it?”

They flew behind the Great Hall, the morning sun reflecting on the stained-glass windows that displayed Hogwarts’ Four Houses as it cast a mosaic of colours over the students passing by below, “Ahead are the gardens. The Hufflepuff common room windows just peek out. Bit claustrophobic for my taste.”

“How is Everett flying so quickly?” Beatrice let out a huff as they rounded the Great Hall and over the gardens that housed the Hufflepuff common room from plain sight. She was starting to get frustrated at not knowing these supposedly simple basics yet was cautious to try anything new as it might cause the broom to literally leave her midair.

“Here’s something handy to know: lean forward for a burst of speed – helpful if you need to escape a tricky situation.”

That’s it! Beatrice watched as Everett leaned forward on his own broom in demonstration, her chin barely touching her now clammy hands as she now sat almost horizontally over her broom, the heels of her shoes perfectly aligned with its bristles, “Now that’s more like it.”

“You sure you’re not part Hippogriff?” Everett asked in a laugh as he now looked beside him once Beatrice caught up to speed.

“There’s the famous bridge. Think of all the magic holding it up. I mean, look at it.” They flew over the wooden bridge while Beatrice’s thoughts wandered further – pass Hogwarts’ grounds and over the forests of trees scattered over the Highlands in the horizon—

The wind cradled her as if it had been waiting for her. The world below shrank into watercolor brushstrokes – the towers, the stoned walls, the spots of students turning into mere blurs – and for one breathtaking stretch of sky, Beatrice was nothing but motion and freedom. There was no weight of expectation here. No responsibilities. No rebellion. Just her, and the skies that dared her to claim them.

“And the owlery. That’s a solid bit of architecture, isn’t it?” Everett swiftly crossing over her line of sight had her swerving back to follow him.

“Flying tips and a jaunt around Hogwarts. This is quite the tour, Everett.” She laughed in abandon as they circled around the structure. For the first time in a while, Beatrice felt free – almost untouchable – amongst the various types of owls that hooted as they flew pass, before a distant yet sharp whistle rang through the air.

“That’s Kogawa’s whistle. This concludes our tour. Best hurry back.” Everett’s voice had a higher pitch to it as he seemingly tried to fly faster than the school broom could take him, “Looks like she’s already dismissed class. Better hurry and hand in our brooms.”

Beatrice leant forward and pointed her broom handle down – gathering speed in a steep dive with the wind whistling in her ears – in time to pull her broom straight, just a foot from the ground, as she slightly jogged to get a steady landing near the school’s broom rack. With Kogawa nowhere in sight after she placed back her broom, Beatrice opted to follow after Everett for their next class—

“And, where have you two been?

That stopped them in their tracks. Beatrice turned around slowly as Everett all but did a casual spin, “Oh, hello, professor! We were trying to get a bit of extra practice in.” He said lightly and all she could do was smile innocently as Beatrice let him do the talking—

“Hefty points will be taken from each of you, for not following my instructions.”

Or not. Beatrice’s jaw slacked as her widened eyes looked between Everett, who was trying to salvage the situation, and Kogawa who now had her arms crossed with a scowl on her features, glancing between the two Ravenclaws.

“Mr. Clopton, I’m disappointed in you. You’re in this class because you’re sti—”

“— I—”

“— because you’re still not showing yourself, or frankly, your broom, the proper respect.” Kogawa’s raised voice over Everett’s reasoning had Beatrice inwardly flinching, keeping her lips pursed as she awkwardly stayed silent with her housemate still trying to get a word in.

“— but, professor—”

“Enough.” Kogawa said with finality, her sole focus now on the boy, “Class is finished for the day.”

Everett glumly stayed silent now, gaze lowered as he walked away. A sliver of sympathy crept over Beatrice as she was about to follow after him, but then—

“As for you, you’d do well to use better judgement in the future.” Kogawa’s voice was still firm, but her expression now held a softer gaze, quite like the ones Beatrice was familiar with when certain expectations from her were held. Though she could only nod solemnly as her eyes gazed down, breathing in a slow calming breath as she was about to trail after her other classmates already leaving the field.

“Chin up. That was some rather good flying.” Kogawa lastly added, a small encouraging smile on her face before she turned back to walk away, leaving Beatrice staring after her form, blinking in wonder.

“Sorry about that business with Kogawa,” Everett said, attempting a lighter tone as she neared him, “But you have to admit those views were worth it.”

Beatrice gave a small huff of amusement, shaking her head as she brushed a windswept lock of hair from her face, “It was worth losing a few house points for that detour.”

Everett grinned, “You seem at home on a broom. Bet if you had a fancy model you could fly laps around Imelda. She’s Kogawa’s favourite.” He whispered the last part conspiratorially, “I could show her a thing or two if I had my own broom. Hate having to return the school broom after class.”

That made her glance back at the broom rack thoughtfully as they started heading towards the castle, “Perhaps I’ll have to purchase a broom then.” She murmured, more to herself.

“If you can you should.” Everett nodded, then muttered, “Wish I could.” He perked up after a second, gesturing beyond Hogwarts’ North Exit gate, “I recommend visiting Albie Weekes at Spintwitches in Hogsmeade. He’s always looking to test new models. I’ll keep an eye out for you in the sky.”

She smiled faintly at that, letting Everett go on about a Bright Spark broom model that he could only dream of affording when—

“So, there you two are! What is this I heard that we got House points deducted earlier into the school week, Everett???” It was Samanatha who now caught up to them as they were heading towards the Transfiguration Courtyard.

Despite laughing at how Everett got lightly reprimanded by Samantha this time, something inside Beatrice lingered – something that changed in the air, like a hum that pleasantly buzzed through her skin. Even now, with her feet firmly back on the ground, a part of her still felt untethered.

She wasn’t quite sure what it was just yet. But maybe she’d find out in the sky.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11.3

Matilda had heard the rumours. It was hard not to, what with the ghosts and sentient portraits that filled the castle’s walls. Although with Eleazar off to the Ministry, she had expected there to be less ‘incidents’ surrounding his charge, yet the latest report from Officer Singer regarding the recent sightings of Ashwinders in Lower Hogsfield proved to be a different story altogether.

While the act of stepping up against Rookwood’s cronies is heroic, it is most troubling to find out two students were involved during such an incident. Matilda had already let Mudiwa handle her own daughter, yet the question still remains on Nora Treadwell’s statement to Officer Singer – of how another student mostly took out the small group of Ashwinders.

And while she may have an inkling on who that student may be, Matilda can’t help but wonder how these incidents may very well be all tied to the Troll Attack in Hogsmeade days prior and the dragon that had ambushed Eleazar and Beatrice’s carriage enroute to Hogwarts as well. She’d hoped to get some answers from Ms. Hayes herself, yet her mentor may have instructed her to stay mum. Nonetheless, Matilda saw it as an opportunity to work with her co-faculty on how to best equip Beatrice on her rare predicament of starting as a fifth year.

After tasking Mirabel to introduce Ms. Hayes to both the beneficial and aggressive forms of flora, the young Herbology professor was delighted to update her on the fact that Beatrice had a natural penchant for handling even the most vicious of greenery.

Aesop himself, with his initial skepticism of leaving Ms. Hayes to her own Potions Station – as she’d only been taught in theory of some key ingredients and their properties by Fig before the school term – was therefore impressed with the quality of brew Beatrice had made. A promising Potioneer, he supplied, one that also took responsibility for her own mistakes – before the ex-Auror then relayed to Matilda how her nephew had somehow convinced the new student to take part in his latest experiment in class.

Now this may all seem coincidental to Matilda due to the fact that the young Mr. Sallow had also, uncharacteristically, been caught on his way out of the Restricted Section just the other day. Word has it that he had taken the fall for somebody else and despite the castle’s portraits having no reason to make up stories nor the resident ghosts to lie, there was a matter that Deek notified her about from the school’s kitchens…

It would seem Ms. Hayes had a worrying tendency to step into trouble.

The familiar hoot from Muriel, her owl, signaled the start of class as students began filtering in. A simple swish from her wand had readily transfigured the owl into her much needed curriculum for the day as she patiently waited for her students to find their seats—

“Settle down, settle down.” She called, gesturing towards Mr. Sallow who seemed to be stalling for time as he looked to be on the verge of striking up a conversation with Ms. Hayes before class. “Transfiguration, as you may be weary of hearing me say, is an exact science that can take a lifetime to master. But we needn’t be daunted.”

She stood up now, walking towards the center of the room, “Almost anything can be transformed, if you can perceive the potential within it – as I see in all of you, tremendous witches and wizards, every one of you.” Before then presenting the tiny marble that reflected the sunlight in between her fingers as Matilda glanced at each of her students’ faces, “Or it could be my eyesight.” She smiled, smoothly transfiguring the inanimate object into a monarch butterfly.

“Now, you all know what to do.” Matilda encouraged her students, watching Beatrice in particular on how she’d fare in her first Transfiguration lesson inside a proper classroom.

“I will not question how physically possible this is, but is it even ethical?”

“This is why I’m here to guide you through it. Come now, you’ve done very well in Transfiguring those objects before—”

“But those were inanimate objects made to resemble another thing that’s already inanimate! This— this is alive.” She looked at the tiny, helpless hedgehog on the table, just the thought of having to Transfigure it into a pincushion before then sticking pins and needles into it made her stomach queasy…

“And what troubles you more — the magic, or the morality?”

She hesitated, carefully choosing her words, “To deal with something living like this… wouldn’t it be like playing at Creation?”

Peering back at the professor, she watched as understanding seemed to dawn on him, “A fair question. One the best witches and wizards have wrestled with. But what we do here is not creation. It’s transformation — bound by rules, like everything else.”

“Like Gamp’s Laws,” She then agreed, nodding slowly. “One cannot create food nor life.”

“Exactly. We don’t make life. We only… rework what already is. When you Transfigure a creature, you’re not destroying it. It enters a suspended state — like a deep sleep. It feels nothing. And it returns whole.”

She glanced down at the hedgehog again. “So… it’s not suffering?”

“No more than you do while sleeping.”

Letting out a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding, she then pushed to ask, “And when we animate objects…?”

“It’s illusion. Simulation. A chair that walks is still wood — just momentarily given the properties of motion. It isn’t alive. There’s no soul to it.”

Slowly understanding, she nodded, though the weight of what she once was taught back in the convent was still etched in the back of her mind. “Alright. I’m ready to try.”

“Good. Focus your intention. Believe in the spell and respect what you’re altering.”

Looking into the hedgehog’s beady eyes one last time, she whispered the incantation — as precisely and reverently as if she were lighting a candle in church.

Matilda observed her class with quiet pride, watching as Beatrice’s Transfigured marble fluttered up among the other now animate objects, her own monarch butterfly had the most vibrant wings among the batch, “Beautifully done.” She nodded, catching the girl’s eye with a smile of approval.

Seeing as Beatrice and Sebastian had been excused from their first Transfiguration Class the last time due to the aftermath of the Troll Attack in Hogsmeade, Matilda took it upon herself to focus on refresher topics today, mixing in practical presentation to incorporating theory for the remainder of class before they were dismissed for the day. She however had to call for Ms. Hayes’ attention afterwards just as she saw the girl about to discuss something with her seatmate, Ms. Onai, as they were preparing to leave.

“You wanted to discuss something with me, Professor?”

“I did. You seem to have had no trouble in settling in so far – and frankly, exceeding our expectations in getting up to speed with your schoolwork in just this week.”

“Thank you, Professor. The extra assignments have been helpful.”

“As I suspected they would be.” Matilda paused, “Now, it seems you’ve been making good use of the opportunities presented by your Field Guide. Of course, the Guide isn’t the only measure of success.” Her tone then shifted slightly, preparing to probe, “I’ve heard that you can brew an impressive Edurus Potion. Hopefully you won’t need it any time soon, but it is a valuable potion to have when it is needed.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Beatrice’s expression remained unperturbed, a seemingly practiced smile gracing her features.

“I will say, I’m especially impressed with all you’ve accomplished just for the week – in light of the rumours of your extracurricular activities.” Her pointed stare now noticed the subtle tension in Beatrice’s posture, “Was your visit to the kitchens – and the Hogsmeade graveyard with Nick to bribe a ghost for information – connected in any way to Professor Fig?” Matilda then raised a brow.

Beatrice’s smile faltered, almost hesitant as she continued, “Not at all. I’m fascinated by ghosts, and, uh, food. And I was interested in learning more about the castle and the surrounding area.”

“I see. I admire your penchant for learning. But do remember that your classwork and Field Guide are designed to educate you thoroughly. I also take it that the latest rules for leaving the castle grounds pass sundown has yet to be strictly implemented, yet going with a ghost does not correspond as a proper companion.”

Genuine concern softened her firm words as she pressed on, “It’ll be the end of the year in no time and you’ll want to be well-prepared for your O.W.L.s. I’ll provide a final assessment at that time to ensure that you’re ready for your exams.”

She watched Beatrice nod slowly in understanding, her face slightly downcast while biting her lip, as if she hesitated to ask something, “Professor, I also wanted to inquire about these pieces of parchment I’ve found— while trying to complete my Field Guide. They seem to allude to a spell relating to Outfit Transformation perhaps?”

It was then that Matilda examined the papers meticulously, careful with handling the aged parchment as she studied the various designs. While it was true such finds could be discovered in the school’s many secret passageways, the more complex of them that needed a Desk of Description would have been more likely found beyond the castle’s walls—

“Indeed. I’ll have you reacquaint yourself with the Multicorfors spell.” Matilda gently handed back the pieces of parchment to Beatrice, leaving further instructions, “As an additional reading material, go look for the Book on Intermediate Transfiguration in the Library, it would prove useful later on once I teach you a different form of the Transformation Spell. Until then – well done. You are dismissed.”

Watching the last of her students exit the classroom for the day, Matilda sat back at her desk with a sudden realization – it seems Deek was right, it was time to introduce Ms. Hayes to The Room of Requirement.

Lunch was turning out to be a lively affair of catching up with her other Housemates on any similar assignments given ahead of time, especially from the different section who took the class first for the day. And since Black explicitly banned owls to delivery mail during the lunch hour over the Great Hall, varying forms of animated origamis flitted over tables between students, with one in the shape of a moth curiously landed onto Beatrice’s hand…

A portrait in our common room wants to talk with you. It’s Eldritch Diggory. He used to be the Minister for Magic, I think. I’ll drop by your class before the study hour later and escort you there.

- Lenora

While it wasn’t unusual for the Hufflepuff to now send her notes and letters every once in a while, regarding oddly placed statues or landmarks that ‘weren’t there before’, in her terms – especially after the moth painting conundrum – Beatrice still couldn’t help but wonder about each House’s failsafe form of security to keep other members of the student body in their respective common rooms. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of smelling like vinegar in such case.

“What Electives have you taken, Beatrice?” The question directed at her by Amit pulled her out of her train of thought as she looked across the table at him.

“Oh, Beasts Class and well… Divination. Though I would have preferred Ancient Runes instead—”

“Don’t drop out of our class now!” Everett interrupted next to Amit, looking quite ready to convince her on taking the class, “There’s only a few of us who actually signed up for Divination, so it makes it easier to pass with flying colors with minimal effort.”

“If you wanted to pass a class with minimal effort, Clopton, why didn't you sign up for Muggle Studies with me instead?” Constance rolled her eyes at him from beside Beatrice as she pointed the fork she’d just been using.

“But that’d be booooring! Imagine having to study for the same things we already know back home, I’d rather learn a thing or two in reading into the future. Might actually help me pass my O.W.L.s.” The boy chuckled, already showing off his skills on shuffling his tarot deck.

“O.W.L.s in Divination, maybe. After all there’s really no right or wrong in a subject based on intuition alone. No offense, Andrew.” Samantha shook her head from Beatrice’s other side, adding her own misgivings about the class’ legitimacy.

“None taken.” The said boy only smiled good naturedly, gaze now drifting towards Beatrice, “I’d like for you to give it a chance though. Won’t hurt to be at least two steps ahead of everyone once in a while.” Her lips quirked into a barely contained smile at the boy’s playful words.

“Spoken like a true fortune teller. Been top of the class since we started at 3^rd year.”

“It’s called a Seer, Clopton, and we all know how you manage to pass that class with Larson.” Constance groaned throwing a soggy toast at Everrett’s head which he expertly dodged.

“Please, let’s not make a mess.” Amit said, holding up his hands as Samantha now also stood up to play referee, leaving Beatrice grinning at her Housemates’ antics before she met Andrew’s gaze from across her. She guessed she could keep an open mind.

And that started with her literally climbing up a hanging ladder to their Divination classroom. While the boys in their class had already gone up first, Beatrice was still glad she chose to wear her school trousers today in place of her skirt uniform. She was just about to haul herself up into the classroom, one elbow already on the floor when an outstretched hand reached out to her, she huffed away a curl that fell on her face as she graciously accepted being pulled up the rest of the way.

Andrew steadied Beatrice by her waist as she fully entered their Divination classroom, grasping his arm as she braced herself on her feet, inadvertently feeling the undeniable firmness even through the layers of his school robe as she met his eyes. “Ready to see beyond?”, there was a twinkle in his eye that had her lips quirking as she kept herself from laughing, stepping away from him as the other students took to their own seats.

“Welcome,” Professor Onai greeted, emerging from her office alcove just as Beatrice sat down on a pouffe sharing a table with Andrew, “We will start today’s class as another refresher on what we have touched so far in Divination.” Their professor started, descending the short set of stairs as she steadily walked towards the middle of the classroom, meaningfully glancing at each of her students’ faces.

Beatrice however surreptitiously took in the handful of classmates she shared this class with. The place looked, and smelled, more like someone's attic than a classroom – the earthy yet herby scent seemed to surround the dimly lit room despite the open curtains, with most of the illumination coming from the glowing crystal balls that lay on each of their circular tables. Only then did she take notice of Natty sitting at the far end table attending her own mother’s class.

“As last time we tackled the theory of tapping into our Inner Eye and what certain symbols stand for in one’s reading, then today we will start with the practical form of Divination.”

Eyes landing on the crystal ball on her table before glancing towards the array of teacups stacked in one corner of their class, Beatrice couldn’t help but then stare at the lone tapestry that hung in the middle of the room – how Death looked over the shoulder of a wizard, presumably predicting how his own end will come to pass. She found it both ironic yet inevitable.

“To start, I would like to call upon two of my best students to present a simple demonstration on Tarot reading. Larson and Morrison, please take a seat.” Professor Onai gestured to one of the tables situated in the middle of the classroom as Andrew’s shoulders seemed to sag in muted acceptance. Beatrice caught Everett’s eye from the table behind him as the bespectacled boy mouthed something close to ‘I told you so.’, before she also soon recognized Morrison as one of the students she last duelled with in Crossed Wands.

She watched as they both sat down, Morrison laying her own deck in the middle of the table as the Hufflepuff started the reading. While they were all required to bring their own decks to class – as the accuracy was said to base off on its owner’s energy – Beatrice had yet to actually use hers, so she was curious to see how it would usually go about.

A question was then asked of Andrew, with the reply being something he didn’t have to voice out loud but ask directly to the cards themselves as he placed his hand over the deck, only did Morrison shuffle the cards after he was done. Interestingly, the class didn’t have a tense atmosphere as Beatrice would have expected, with Professor Onai encouraging the class to come take a closer look to see how the demonstration unfolded while she walked towards the classroom’s chalkboard to sketch out symbols and write in notes with their corresponding references.

“They say she is related to that painting along the grand staircase, Sylvia Pembroke, I think was her name.” Natty suddenly supplied, now taking a seat next to Beatrice. If her memory served her correct, she may have passed by that particular painting from the first night she’d come back from Hogsmeade with Sebastian, barely remembering how it mentioned something about the letter S…

“Am I correct to assume you’re following in your mother’s footsteps as well?” Beatrice then asked, absently shaking her head at a portrait’s vague premonition as she looked towards the Gryffindor.

Natty let out a soft huff, close to a laugh, but her smile was more reflective than amused, “I did not have a choice in the matter, unfortunately. It was my mother’s hope that I would study Divination.” Her eyes briefly drifted, distant and unreadable. “I suppose, in some ways, one’s fate is already set in stone, whether we agree with them or not.”

Beatrice studied her for a quiet moment, not with pity, but something closer to recognition, “I read a poem once — ‘I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.’ Her voice was soft, but sure. “I like to believe that, no matter where we start, we still get to steer the ship.”

Natty looked at her, the shadow of a frown tugging at her brow, “But what if steering it wrong brings grief? If our choices hurt others? What if the tragedy has already happened and we are just sailing through the aftermath?”

Beatrice didn’t answer right away. She let the question hang — she knew that kind of ache.

“Then maybe that’s how the Fates teach us — not by showing us the future, but by shaping us through what we survive.” She looked down at her hands briefly, thoughtful. “Even when it feels like we’re stumbling… we’re still moving. Still learning. Sometimes that’s the only way forward.”

There was a pause. A gentle one.

Natty’s smile returned, smaller this time, but a little steadier. “My friend, you sound like someone who has been through more than she lets on.”

Beatrice gave a faint smile of her own but did not reply more than that.

Later, they all gathered around Professor Onai giving a demonstration on Scrying – or what Beatrice read to be the act of “seeing into the future” by peering into any reflective surface – in this case, it was a crystal ball.

“Oh! That shade of yellow means something along the lines of ‘look before you leap’, yes?” A shorter Hufflepuff took notes as she circled around them trying to get a closer look at the table.

“That’s correct, in a way, but one has to also take into consideration how the clouds are swirling about. Notice how its moving more towards the right, which can also mean ‘to act quickly and not hesitate’.”  Andrew helpfully supplied as Beatrice’s gaze went from the glowing ball of crystal to study her professor’s face.

She could barely see the yellow hue they were talking about as she was instead seeing it in reds then blues, also noting how their professor’s shoulders visibly relaxed before her expression softened into a smile.

This made Beatrice look down towards her notes to see it meant something about ‘wisdom coming from experience’. Hopefully she’d learn something out of this class as time went on, rather than feeling at a lost now as she stared into the tea cup she had in her hands…

“So what did you see about me so far?”

She blinked back in a daze as she guiltily looked over Andrew’s inquiring gaze, clearing her throat as she quickly flipped through her book while glancing at the soggy tea leaves clumped toward the rim in little shapes, none of which looked particularly magical. Or logical.

Beatrice squinted into the teacup she’d exchanged with the boy, “Alright,” she muttered, lifting the cup to eye level with the intensity of a Herbology student trying to reason with a screeching Mandrake. “I see… this thick line. And a spiral halfway down?”

“A bridge,” Andrew clarified, nodding towards the cup she held, “A long one. And a spiral right near the bottom may mean destiny pulling inward. It’s… slow. Like someone finding their way back.”

“I’m guessing that someone symbolizes this bird.” Beatrice pointed to the rightmost side of the cup, near its rim.

Andrew leaned in, one eyebrow raised. “A bird?”

“Though I’m not quite certain of its specific kind… It does look possibly… on fire.” She gave a brief pause before suddenly looking more certain as she then flipped to a specific page on their Divination’s book, “Aha! A phoenix! Means memory, usually old ones rising again. Maybe something forgotten coming back.”

She looked up at him with a triumphant smile but found Andrew’s eyes locked on the cup, gently taking it from her hands, turning it slightly. His fingers grazed hers—light, intentional. Beatrice caught the subtle melancholy in his expression now.

“Rising from ashes. And rebirth. This means—”

He sneezed. Violently. So suddenly, in fact, that it almost made Beatrice jump out of the pouffe she was sitting in as their other classmates glanced over.

“Bless you!” She said, blinking, “That phoenix just exploded.”

Andrew sniffled, looking sheepishly around the class, “Professor Onai’s leaves from Uagadou do have a way to tickle my senses.” He mumbled, setting down the cup he almost dropped.

“I hope you still have it in you to tell me something about my own soggy leaves.” She giggled and he graciously complied, turning Beatrice’s cup slowly, eyes scanning. His earlier lightness was gone, replaced by a sharper focus.

“There’s a bird in yours as well.” He glanced up at her teasingly, but his smile seemed tight, “An albatross, to be precise.”

Beatrice blinked. “A what?”

“It’s symbolic, much like the phoenix. Identified by its long wingspan.” He murmured, flipping through their shared text to the near start of the book, finding its definition, “A burden. Carried far. Sometimes for too long. Guilt. Or sacrifice. Depends who’s carrying it.”

She said nothing. Her hand curled slightly on the table.

Andrew went on, voice lower, pointing towards the bottom of the cup, “And here—this one’s clear. An arrow, piercing a heart.”

Truthfully, he didn’t need to explain that one, but she just had to confirm.

“Is it… about love?” Beatrice asked quietly, a sardonic smile gracing her features.

In turn, Andrew looked up, holding her gaze. “Yes,” He replied. “But not the easy kind.”

A long silence stretched between them before he turned the cup again.

“And lastly… a crown, tilted.”

“Does it pertain to me being long lost royalty?” She quipped softly, trying to steer them back to lighter topics.

Andrew only smiled. “Or it means you never asked to lead. But you’ll end up doing it anyway.”

There was something now left unspoken in the air, thick as fog. The steam from the still brewing tea kettle by Professor Onai’s desk seemingly curled around their table like a lazy serpent, her voice floated over the murmuring class.

Beatrice glanced back into the cup. The heart. The crown. The bird with wings outstretched. All staring back up at her.

She suddenly didn’t feel like laughing anymore.

Poppy Sweeting was only one of the many who heard about the new fifth year the night of the sorting, then continued to be one of the few who observed how she’d interact with both their classmates and animals alike the days that followed. Beatrice, as what she heard the girl’s name was, had always seemed gentle with her owl during breakfast hours compared to most people only seeing them as a means of messaging. And despite noticing how busy the new student was, Beatrice seemed to always have time to stop and pet the castle’s cats. Poppy would later then describe their new classmate as similar to a young Antipodean Opaleye, drifting into a nesting ground – Beatrice, while quiet despite the rumours, had made what should’ve been awkward, look entirely natural by easily blending in amongst their peers.

Though if there was one thing bothering Poppy about the new student was talk of how she handled the wayward trolls in Hogsmeade. They were already territorial creatures that would rather not wander into well populated areas much like the wizarding village. There was also something to think about regarding the dragon attack that sparked Beatrice’s late arrive that first night – no dragon would attack out of nowhere, unless it was threatened or chasing after something…

It all just didn’t make sense. Poppy huffed out a sigh, stroking Gerald’s fuzzy coat as the Puffskein purred and rolled in her arms just as Professor Howin was welcoming class, it was only then when she glanced up that she spotted Beatrice heading her way.

“Welcome everyone.” Professor Howin now started, “I see you’ve already met some of the many beasts we study in this class.”

Beatrice nodded towards Poppy with a polite smile, which she tried to reciprocate before she nervously glanced down at the table just as the other girl decided to quietly stand beside her as she passed, making Poppy instinctively hold Gerald closer in her arms as she couldn’t help but let some of her intrusive thoughts seep in – The other girl probably thought her silly, carrying Gerald about like a first year clutching a teddy.

“Though, be advised, none of these creatures should be taken lightly. They are all, in their own way, dangerous—” Professor Howin’s voice rang firm just as a Diricawl popped up at the corner of their now shared desk, “Especially if one does not know how to handle them properly.” Their professor stepped forward, slowly stretching her palm up to feed the magical avian as she glanced at the entirety of her class, before pointedly staring at the Puffskein Poppy had in her arms.

With the Diricawl vanishing in a soft pop, Poppy dared a sideways glance. Beatrice was still staring at the spot where it had perched, eyes wide with quiet wonder. When those same eyes met hers, Poppy startled at the color – green, bright as a Welsh Green’s scales when the sun hits just right. She almost looked away, but Beatrice smiled, and for a moment Poppy forgot how to feel awkward at all.

“Now, it seems many of you are out of practice. Let’s take some time to review the basics of how to care a beast, shall we?” Howin now rounded back towards the front of class, motioning then towards their table, “Miss Sweeting, would you please assist our new student with the lesson today?”

Her eyes widened, mouth opening in a silent ‘oh’ before her mind caught up to answer, “Yes, Professor Howin.” She’d nodded before glancing at Beatrice with a smile of her own, “Hello, I’m Poppy – Poppy Sweeting.” Then continuing in a lower tone of voice, “Don’t worry about Professor Howin’s speech, she overexaggerates sometimes.” Poppy mumbled the last part as if mimicking how to share a joke with a friend, letting out a soft awkward laugh, only for her to further relax as Poppy noticed the smile that graced the other girl’s features, “All the beasts in class are perfectly safe—Oh!” She suddenly gasped, stumbling back as Gerald chose that moment to try to stick his tongue up her nose!

“Miss Sweeting, pay attention, please. The tongue of a Puffskein can be a slippery devil.” Howin’s stern tone rang after hearing Poppy’s outburst.

“Uh, yes, Professor.” Scrunching up her nose, Poppy shyly tried to laugh off her failed demonstration but was otherwise relieved to see Beatrice offer her a comforting smile in understanding.

“Here, you can practise on Gerald.” She gently placed the Puffskein on the desk they shared, “Just keep an eye out for his tongue.” Poppy added with a soft laugh as the adorable ball of fur slightly turned and curiously looked up towards Beatrice.

“You can use my brush. Just be gentle. Oh, and think pleasant thoughts. I like to think it enriches his experience.” She then observed Beatrice carefully maneuver her wand to stroke Gerald’s underbelly, causing the Puffskein’s eyes to close in satisfaction as he let out a purr of delight, “That’s lovely. I’m sure he feels much better.”

Poppy felt herself relax as she continued to guide Beatrice, “I think he might be hungry. Would you mind giving him some beast feed?”

With the brush disappearing just as the scent of food appeared, Gerald happily rolled back up and let out excited squeaks as it hopped around, his tongue at the ready as it picked off the first of the pellets, “What do you suppose the pellets taste like to Gerald? Pudding, I like to think.” Poppy surmised, glancing at Beatrice only to catch a look of distant nostalgia reflect in the other girl’s eyes before it was gone with a blink.

“I think we can safely say that Gerald likes you.” She trailed off, eyes now back on the Puffskein merrily finishing off the last of the pellets before Gerald delightfully rolled towards Beatrice’s arms.

“That’s good news. He seems very nice.” Beatrice had a soft welcoming smile on her features as she gently stroked the purring ball of warm fur.

“He is. Kindness is one of his best qualities. Right after ambition. And cleanliness.”

“Good work everyone. Now, let’s make our way to the pens and select another beast.” Professor Howin then announced, deciding to move the class along for their next practical lesson, “And please, do be careful as you feed and groom them. And, Miss Sweeting—” Howin personally added, “Why don’t you show our new student to the Kneazles in the farthest pen?”

She perked at that, petting Gerald goodbye as Beatrice handed him back before she led the way, a slight hop to her steps, “This way. The Kneazles are over here.”

“Coupla’ Kneazle whiskers oughta’ get me a few Knuts, at least. Enough to buy something from Honeydukes.”

A Slytherin student chuckled darkly as he cast an extraction charm causing the feline-like creature to let out a low yowl as it resisted against the assault.

“Eh. Stupid thing.” Grunted the boy, applying more force into his spell just as the Kneazle started hissing.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Poppy rushed in, distracting the boy in his enchantment as she leaned over the pen to quickly check over the poor creature.

“Ugh. Tsk, tsk, peculiar Poppy. Worried about a worthless little rodent?” The boy then clucked his tongue in derision.

“Her name is Persephone.” Poppy exclaimed, now turning towards the real monster thinking of taking advantage of a helpless creature.

“Her name is Persephone.” The other boy laughed back in mock imitation while his crony beside him made faces at her.

This made Poppy’s fingers twitch at her robes, brushing against the little pouch where her Chinese Chomping Cabbage sat. She ought to pull it out, snap at them the way the cabbage would – yet her throat closed up, leaving her as mute as a mooncalf caught in torchlight. Oh, how she longed to bite back – just once.

“That’s really not funny.”

The voice wasn’t hers.

Blue robes moved into her view, sharp as a falcon swooping between her and its prey. Poppy blinked, startled – half because she’d forgotten Beatrice was even beside her, and half because she’d thought the new girl would simply stand by. But the expression she saw now… it wasn’t the soft smile Poppy had come to expect. There was something cutting in Beatrice’s green eyes, a glint like sharpened steel, and the air seemed to carry a faint burnt-sweet tang of Mallowsweet.

Poppy suddenly understood how Beatrice could very well be the same student rumoured to have taken a fully grown Troll in Hogsmeade the other day.

The other boy might have had a similar train of thought too as he went silent, only levelling back a glare before footfalls could be heard stopping near them. A quick glance proved that Professor Howin had come to check on the ruckus she’d must have heard.

“Let’s go.” The boy sulked, having no choice but to grumble as both he and his crony walked away.

A rumbling purr inside the pen caught Poppy’s attention, making her crouch and instinctively reach in to stroke Persephone’s head, “Those two don’t belong anywhere near this class. Poachers-in-training. Persephone was onto them instantly.” Poppy’s voice wavered, swallowing pass the lump formed in her throat, “Thank you for your help. Let’s carry on.” She straightened, breathing in deep to calm her raising heart as she led the way inside the pen, “Feed and brush the Kneazles just as you did with Gerald.”

Working on the creatures in their class had always been a relaxing pastime for Poppy, more so now as she quietly observed Beatrice diligently care for the feline-like beasts – watching how the other girl was initially awkward on where to properly brush them – but the Kneazles themselves later took to stretching and rubbing alongside her ankles, even Persephone would playfully swat at Beatrice’s wand to ask for more pellets.

“Hmm. The Kneazles really took to you. They know a good egg when they see one.” Poppy finally breathed out a light laugh, “As do I.”

“It appears our time has come to an end. Please close the pens and see yourselves out.” Professor Howin’s voice rang over the open area signaling the end of today’s class. Reluctantly seeing themselves out, Poppy watched in amusement as Persephone tried to follow after them, earning one last good scratch behind her ears from Beatrice before securing the enclosure.

“Now, where is our new student?” The professor strolled along each pen before spotting Beatrice, “Ah, there you are. I would like a moment, please.”

At that point, Poppy really didn’t need to hang around – she already had a good session in Beasts class, was paired alongside the best partner she could ask for; that didn’t result in any form of miscommunication or ultimate disinterest – yet she still found herself lingering. Just maybe wanting to show Beatrice something else—

“Surely the poachers can be brought to justice by someone – the Ministry, perhaps.”

Poppy’s attention focused in on Beatrice’s opinion on Professor Howin’s statement recounting the poaching activities that seemed to have taken rise these past several months over the Highlands. It had only grown more worrisome even before their previous school term ended.

“Hmm. An optimistic idea.” Poppy heard their professor give pause, knowing full-well how easily such matters fell on deaf ears, “Now, why don’t we focus on more immediate matters that we can control?”

It was most likely since Beatrice was new to the Wizarding community that she still had yet to be jaded by the figures that made up their Ministry, even Poppy had sadly been one of the younger generation taught to let the “more capable wizards” handle such matters outside of their control but— it didn’t have to be that way, did it?

Her fingers stilled at pulling on the sleeves of her robe, deciding to call out to Beatrice in a quiet voice just as the other girl was now dismissed by their professor, “Hey, over here. Come on.”

“Did you need something, Poppy?” Beatrice approached, a curious tilt to her head as Poppy tried to find her own words.

“Thank you again – for saying something to those brutes so that I didn’t have to.” She paused, mulling over her thoughts to continue with a phrase she’d share with her gran, “You were an Augurey at noon in a desert.”

“I— certainly hope that’s a good thing.” Beatrice’s smile, while a bit confused, still held a certain openness that encouraged Poppy to continue.

“It’s something my gran and I say. It means that something or someone is a welcome surprise.” At least – that’s what we decided it meant.” She finished off somewhat awkwardly, but Beatrice was thankfully more than willing to continue the conversation.

“I couldn’t stand there and watch them harm the poor thing.”

“We’re of a similar mind.” Poppy paused, finally coming to a decision yet unsure how to go about it, “Actually, in light of that, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. In the Forest.”

A distant call for Beatrice’s name interrupted their conversation however as Poppy soon spotted one of her Housemates rounding the corner of their open classroom.

“Ah, Lenora. She did promise to meet me here after class regarding a previous… arrangements, of sorts.” Beatrice waved towards the other Hufflepuff as she turned her attention back to Poppy, “I’ll be more than honored to meet this friend of yours. Just owl me whenever and I’ll be sure to make it.”

Poppy waved after Beatrice as they parted ways, a bubbling feeling in her chest she hadn’t felt in a while just waiting to spring forth – hope. It was time she found her voice.