#katriona cassiopeia

[lifeofkaze]

Trick or Treat 🎃

I hope you had a Halloween as gorgeous as yourself! Can I interest you in a 3-sentence-horror-story?

Katriona Cassiopeia always thought she knew her friend Lizzie. There was nothing about her that she couldn't take. But going on a coffee date with Lizzie for the first time, the horror of the syrup counter would stay with KC forever.

[carewyncromwell]

“My father wasn’t around -- (My father wasn’t around) I swear that I’ll be around for you. I’ll do whatever it takes; I’ll make a million mistakes; I’ll make the world safe and sound for you... We’ll come of age with our young nation -- We’ll bleed and fight for you... We’ll make it right for you! If we lay a strong enough foundation, We’ll pass it on to you -- we'll give the world to you, And you'll blow us all away... Someday, someday...”

~“Dear Theodosia (cover)” by Regina Spektor and Ben Folds

x~x~x~x

partially inspired by a conversation with @dat-silvers-girl​​ // featuring a quick reference to Katriona Cassiopeia @kc-and-co​​ 💜

x~x~x~x

The summer of 1998 had felt warmer than it had in years. The warmth seemed to ripple from the outside in, given the immense relief that came with the death of Voldemort and with it the end of the Second Wizarding War. And even though yes, there was a lot of work still to do to restore balance to the world, right the wrongs committed during the War, and move forward toward a brighter future, everything still seemed to shine that touch brighter. 

Hope, it seems, can make even the most unremarkable rocks shine like diamonds.

It was in the summer, and right as Carewyn began what would be a long crusade to try and convict every ex-Death Eater for their crimes, that Carewyn received a letter from her old school friend and associate Orion Amari. He and his nearly two-year-old daughter Eos had recently returned to Montrose, Scotland, after being in hiding from the Death Eaters for several months. With the financial reimbursement he’d received from both the Ministry and the League as post-War damages, Orion had just managed to scrape together enough money to purchase a run-down old cottage in the woods outside of Montrose, which he was now working to fix up and obscure with the proper enchantments for himself and Eos to live in.

As much as I have never lamented living in a small one-room flat by myself, Orion’s letter explained, I realize that for a young child, such a place would lack stimulation and even less chance for freedom and exploration. Perhaps a home in such a quiet and green place, as opposed to the suburbs or in the country, could provide a sanctuary for Eos: one where she can experience many wonderful new things and experiment with her own magic away from prying eyes. And perhaps, on a more selfish note, being more physically removed from town could give me some cover from more overzealous members of the press, who I’ve only been able to keep at bay in the past by living alongside Muggles. 

Carewyn was touched by how much her old friend thought of his daughter’s happiness. She wished she’d had the freedom with her own job and income to consider moving into a larger space herself -- she loved her tiny flat in London, but recently she had had to make some layout changes, so as to give her new ward -- twelve-year-old Erik Apollo -- some space of his own. 

Mum came over to give me a hand with turning the hall closet into a second bedroom last week, Carewyn confided to Orion in a letter of her own at one point. She had to do the same thing for me when I was young, so she has plenty of experience with such magic -- but I was only a bit older than Eos, back then. Erik is set to start his first year at Hogwarts next month: he deserves some space of his own, and privacy at that, and he can’t have that in such a small room. Erik’s been referring to the new room as his “shoebox” as a joke -- even if he’s said multiple times that its size isn’t a problem and I know he means it, I still hope I can find a safe way to expand his room a bit more before he comes home for the holidays. 

In September, Carewyn brought Erik to Platform Nine and Three Quarters to start his first year at school. Despite the sticky, unpleasant heat clinging to the air, the curly blond-haired boy was dressed in a black turtleneck and jeans -- Erik didn’t like the looks he got from passerby for the magical burn scars around his neck, which had been inflicted on him by Death Eater Thorfinn Rowle. 

“Do you have everything you need?” Carewyn asked him. “Your trunk? Your wallet?”

“Everything and everyone,” said Erik with a wry smile, indicating the black-and-white tuxedo cat yowling in his carrier at his side.

Carewyn offered her ward’s new familiar a pitying smile as she brought a hand up to the bars of his cage, petting the top of his head with a single finger.

“Aww...it’s all right,” she said gently. “Erik can take you out on the train.”

“Only if he agrees not to claw anybody,” Erik said dryly. When the cat yowled unhappily again, he added, “Sorry, Han Solo, I don’t have enough to pay off the train conductor if you cause any permanent damage.”

Carewyn laughed softly behind her hand, which made Erik’s light blue eyes sparkle with that bit more satisfaction. 

“I’d best be off,” said Erik stridently. “Train’s leaving in ten.”

Carewyn nodded in agreement. She brought a hand onto his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. 

“Send me an owl if you need anything,” she said seriously. “There’ll be plenty of owls in the owlery you can use to send me a letter...and even if you end up in Hufflepuff or Slytherin, there are collection trays where post can be delivered down to you, outside of mealtimes.”

Erik nodded. “Thanks, Ms. Cromwell.”

Carewyn gave him a brave smile. Then, opening her arms, she encircled the small boy in a full, warm hug -- Erik, even despite the straightness of his posture, accepted her hold and even gave her a light squeeze before releasing her and dashing up to the open train door, hoisting his trunk up after him. Then, with one last wave, he retreated into the train car to get settled for the trip to school. 

It was a strange, bereft kind of feeling, watching the train with Erik on board pull out of the station and out of sight. Even if the boy truly was only twelve years younger than her and was of an age more like a younger sibling than a child, Carewyn couldn’t help but wonder if her own mother felt like this, watching Jacob and her leave for school all those years ago.

Later that September, Carewyn received another letter from Orion. This one’s contents, however, surprised Carewyn more than any of the others they’d exchanged.

Carewyn,

I realize that for someone as enamored with plans and order as you, this request will be very abrupt -- but would you be able to visit Eos and me here in Scotland at all tomorrow evening? Any time around sunset would be suitable.

Please do not hesitate in your response. Even if it must be no, I will simply be happy to receive a letter from you so quickly.

Orion

Carewyn read the letter several times in slight confusion. The request was definitely a bit out of left field. Orion had come to see her several times, both as she helped him secure legal custody of Eos and when he came to the Ministry as a representative for the Quidditch League. Carewyn had even let Orion sleep on her couch overnight without planning ahead, simply because he had to report back to the Ministry right away the next morning. But Orion hadn’t ever asked her to come to his place before -- if nothing else, it was still very newly “his place,” as it was. Him suddenly inviting her over without explaining why...it signaled that his reason had to be important...

Carewyn’s eyes lingered on the last line as she took out some parchment and wrote out a quick response of her own.

Orion,

I should be able to finish up with my casework by 8:00. I could Floo from my office right over to you, if you’d like.

Let me know,

Carewyn

The Ministry lawyer folded the short note into thirds, closed it with a seal, and held it out to the owl so it could snatch it up in its beak and fly off, back out of her office and out of sight down the hall.

Orion’s response came mere hours later. It was even shorter, and its flowing, yet messy penmanship -- typical to Orion -- was a bit more slanted, as if it had been written very quickly.

8:00 is a lovely time to look forward to. While making your trip, simply ask to be brought to “Dawn’s Haven.”

Until tomorrow,

Orion

The following night Carewyn didn’t even bother changing out of the dress robes she was wearing into her spare Muggle clothes, as she did whenever she walked home from work. She instead headed straight for the closest Ministry fireplace, tossing some of the spare powder into the grate at her feet before clearly declaring Orion’s directions:

“Dawn’s Haven!”

The emerald green flames flared up around her, encompassing her vision as she was hurtled through space. About twenty seconds later, she found herself reaching another much less polished grate, out of which she exited. When she did, she had to brush aside a strange curtain of hanging green and violet beads just to climb up and out of the grate.

When Carewyn looked up and around, she found herself in a very small, but quaint little cottage. The walls were all made of stained oak and it was decorated eclectically, with a stylized sunflower-printed rug, several mandala floor pillows, a footstool shaped like a turtle, a tiered indoor water fountain, and hanging plants and Arabian-style glass lanterns attached to the beams overhead. There was even a star chart, enchanted with glowing stars and constellations, carved into the ceiling. The lighting was very dim, and yet as warm and colorful as sunlight through a stained glass window. The whole place also smelled of soothing incense -- lavender and sandalwood.

And standing right in front of Carewyn to meet her was Orion himself. He immediately took her hands and helped her straighten up, since she’d bent down to brush the soot from her robes.

“Carewyn,” he said. “How good it is to see you.”

The size and brightness of his smile startled Carewyn. She didn’t think she’d seen him look so happy since she’d agreed to rejoin his Quidditch team back in her sixth year.

“...It’s good to see you too,” she said, still slightly stunned.

She glanced around for Eos. She found the newly-two-year-old girl sitting on her knees at the window across the room, biting her lower lip as she smiled broadly at Carewyn too.

“Your shoulders appear very tense,” said Orion.

Carewyn glanced back awkwardly toward the small stone fireplace she’d just walked through. “Well, from your letter, I’d thought maybe something was wrong, but...”

She brought a hand through her ginger bangs, feeling a bit chagrined.

Orion’s expression softened.

“I see,” he said, his face becoming a bit sheepish despite himself. “Forgive me, Carewyn. It seems in my eagerness, I neglected to reassure you that this was merely a social visit, rather than a fire you had to put out...”

“I didn’t think that,” Carewyn said very quickly, “I just -- well, I just assumed that you had something serious on your mind -- that you needed my input on something...like about your custody of Eos, or the Quidditch League, or...”

“Carewyn.”

Carewyn paused when Orion gave the hand of hers he was still holding a light squeeze. She looked up, just as Orion quickly released her hand, bringing his hand up through his own unevenly cut hair to brush it out of his face.

“I realize you’re trying to reassure me,” he said, sounding rather self-effacing, “but...it’s not comforting, to know I have left you thinking that I would only ever summon you here to ask for your help. And for that, I am sorry.”

Guilt flooded through Carewyn. “No! I don’t think that! It’s just...well, everyone’s needed more help, these days. I’ve had to help a lot of people lately...”

“Me included,” said Orion with a small, sad smile.

“It’s nothing I’ve done unwillingly,” Carewyn said fiercely. “I like helping people, Orion -- it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, to help those people I care about...those people who need my help.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye, so she settled for his shoulder instead.

“...I’ve liked helping you,” she murmured. “You and Eos. Seeing you with her...hearing about what you want for her future...I want to help you achieve that happiness, for her.”

Orion’s black eyes seemed to gleam with a strange, almost deeper glint. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could conjure up any response --

“Caywhen!”

Both Orion and Carewyn straightened up abruptly, and then immediately looked down. Eos had uneasily climbed down from the window ledge and toddled over across the room over to them -- and in that moment, the tiny girl flung out her arms and grabbed onto Carewyn’s right leg through her robes.

Carewyn stared, open-mouthed, from Eos to Orion, who looked just as surprised as she was.

“Did...did she just say my...?”

Eos’s black eyes, identical in color to her father’s, were shining like gems as she pointed urgently up at the window behind her with her pudgy little finger.

“Caywhen!” the little girl said again.

She gave a tug to Carewyn’s leg.

Still faintly stunned, Carewyn let the little girl lead her over to the window. Eos tried to hoist herself up onto the windowsill -- Carewyn helped her climb up, and Eos tapped the glass meaningfully.

Carewyn looked out, to see nothing but darkness. Through the glass, however, she could barely make out a strange sound -- an ethereal sound, echoing through the night...

Almost like music...

Moving the beaded curtain aside to reach the window latch, Carewyn undid it and opened the window so as to better hear.

Sure enough, it was music -- a beautiful, melodic, haunting song, played by instruments she almost thought she recognized: something like a harp, as well as something like a lute...

Carewyn was left mesmerized, just leaning over the window ledge with Eos and listening. The little girl was entranced, her mouth slightly open and her wide black eyes drifting around the window and over the dark woods. She’d clearly never heard anything like it before and could do nothing but just drink it in.

Orion was so quiet that Carewyn didn’t even realize he’d come up alongside her to stand over Eos until his muscular arm brushed up beside hers. When Carewyn looked up, his black eyes were locked on her face and his lips were spread in a gentle smile.

“It’s a turning of the seasons,” he said softly. “From what the previous tenant told me when I bought this house, the selkies that live near the shore like to mark the equinoxes. And now that autumn has officially begun in the eyes of the stars...so have the selkies returned to shore, to play music through the night in celebration.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

“Then...then this is why you invited me,” she said in understanding. “So I could hear the selkies’ music?”

Orion’s eyes trailed over Carewyn’s face with something fonder. “Of course. I knew if there was anyone on this Earth who would appreciate it, it would be you, Carewyn Cromwell.”

Carewyn felt her cheeks warm with a happy blush, unable to hold in how very touched she was by this.

“Caywhen?”

Carewyn looked down at Eos. The little girl had taken hold of her sleeve and given it a light tug as she looked back out the window. Carewyn could sense both awe and curiosity coming off Orion’s daughter through the eye contact they’d made, and it made her bright red lips spread into a smile.

“Those are selkies, Eos,” she said gently. “They’re playing music.”

Eos was listening to Carewyn with rapt attention, even as the two looked back out the open window.

“They sound pretty, don’t they?” said Carewyn.

Eos smiled and nodded, settling herself down on the sill on her stomach and resting her face in both hands so she could lean a bit out the window and listen.

Carewyn smiled fondly down at the little girl, looking back over her shoulder at Orion. Waves of undiluted pride and warmth rippled off of the Montrose Magpie as he gazed down at his daughter. When his eyes flitted up to Carewyn, that warmth seemed to settle slightly as he tried to compose himself, but it still seemed to flood out of Orion’s eyes, accompanied by flickers of memory -- cradling a newborn until she stopped crying -- covering her eyes to tell her to be quiet as they hid together in the shadows --

“Eos listens far more than she speaks,” Orion said very softly.

Carewyn smiled slightly. “Like her father?”

Orion smiled too, but only briefly. “Yes...but not for the same reason. She learned how to be silent at such a young age that, now, I fear she may be more comfortable being silent than in expressing herself openly. She does not mimic sounds others make. She does not experiment with forming words, as other children I’ve seen do. She doesn’t speak much at all, aside from very specific words. ‘Here.’ ‘No.’ ‘Help.’ ‘Dad.’”

Something strange flickered over Orion’s face -- was that shyness?

“...Even...other people’s names are quite rare. Just the ones she’s heard me say before, with some frequency. ‘Skye’ -- ‘Nully’ -- ‘KC’ -- ‘Wath’ -- ”

“And ‘Caywhen,’” Carewyn finished, unable to keep herself from smiling. She even felt her cheeks warming with a charmed blush.

Orion’s face seemed to flush a bit too despite himself. “Apparently so.”

Carewyn tilted her head at him in confusion.

“I was just as surprised to hear your name emerge from Eos’s mouth as you were,” Orion admitted, smiling through the flush in his cheeks. “...I suppose I didn’t realize just how often I’ve spoken of you, as of late...”

Carewyn smiled a bit more kindly. “Hmm...well, we have spent a lot of time together, these last few months.”

She reached out and gently took his hand.

“I’m glad I’ve been able to see you again,” she said, “instead of just writing letters. Even if the circumstances haven’t been exactly ideal.”

“...Indeed.”

Orion’s gaze drifted down at their hands. His thumb lightly slid along the back of her hand as he secured his hold.

“It’s...been a blessing, to reconnect with you after so long, Carewyn,” he said softly. “To...spend time with you like this...without any threat looming over us...nor any mantle of heroism thrust upon you.”

His eyes gained something a bit more solemn as he met her gaze. She could sense something soothing coming off of him -- something akin to a hand over hers, lowering her wand for her...

“As much as you have helped Eos and me...and as grateful as I shall always be for that,” Orion said softly, “I want you to know...that my wish to see you can be just about want, and not always about need. And that even when it is the second...you can always say no, with no regrets.”

Carewyn stared at Orion for a moment, a bit taken aback. She could practically see him as a young man again, asking her multiple times to rejoin his Quidditch team, only for Carewyn to have to regretfully decline the invitation, in the face of her pursuing the Cursed Vaults and saving Jacob.

The memory made Carewyn’s lips curl up in a bittersweet smile as she glanced away.

“...Thank you. But honestly...I’m just glad that I’m in the position now that I don’t have to say no.”

At Eos shifting slightly, Carewyn looked down, to see the little girl adjusting underneath her and Orion so that she was more comfortably nestled between them. His black eyes softening fondly, Orion extended his hand not holding Carewyn’s and rested it beside his daughter, creating an almost canopy over her as he rested his chin lightly on top of her head and looked out the window. Carewyn watched the father and daughter with fondness before she too looked back out the window, listening to the sounds of the selkies’ mystical, celebratory melodies echoing through the trees.

The three sat there by the window for a long while. As the night wore on, the music evolved and changed. Soon it’d gotten late enough that Eos was getting restless, so the three shifted over to the living space. Orion brewed himself and Carewyn some lavender tea and Eos some hot water and lemon, while Eos sat in the papasan chair with Carewyn and she told Eos about the different musical instruments she could pick out in the selkies’ music.

“You hear that high, clear, echoing sound? Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh. That’s something glass -- like a glass armonica.”

Eos smiled whenever Carewyn sang along with the selkies’ playing. The sight made Orion’s eyes sparkle with warmth as he came back over with two mugs of tea and one of hot water and lemon.

“Come get your narwhal, Eos,” he said amusedly.

This statement made more sense when he held up Eos’s mug, which was shaped like a ceramic blue narwhal.

Eos bounced right out of her spot next to Carewyn so she could take her mug from her father. She then toddled over to the pile of pillows on the floor, where she plopped herself down on her stomach, pointedly blew on the hot water three times, and took a long sip from her mug.

Orion walked over to Carewyn and held out two mugs of tea with a wry smile -- one white with a black octopus printed on it and the other black printed with the white words “I’d Rather Be Playing Quidditch” on it. With a laugh, Carewyn reached out and took the one decorated with the octopus.

“Was that other one a present?” she asked.

Orion grinned. “They both were. From McNully and Skye, respectively."

“And the narwhal?” asked Carewyn.

“Adopted by Eos -- paid for by KC,” Orion said with a grin.

Carewyn covered her mouth as she laughed. “I was thinking of ‘adopting’ a mug for Erik too, at some point.”

“Does he also enjoy tea?”

“Not so much -- but I thought some hot chocolate or butterbeer would be appropriate around Christmas.”

“A reasonable thought. Hot apple cider could also be a nice alternative.”

Taking a sip of the lavender tea from the black mug, the Chaser settled himself down next to his daughter on the pillows. Eos snuggled up beside her father, and Carewyn smiled seeing how gently Orion’s black eyes shined as he lightly ruffled her bangs with one hand.

“Orion?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for this,” Carewyn said softly. “All of this...the tea, the company, but also...well, the music. It’s just...”

She shifted herself in the chair, her hands holding the mug of tea in her lap as she looked back over toward the window wistfully.

“...It’s so beautiful,” she murmured.

After such a long War, full of fear and fighting and work and worrying -- after focusing solely on helping as many people as she could, with what little power she had to try to make things right...sitting in a comfortable, lavender-and-sandlewood-scented cottage, listening to selkies celebrate the season through song, was medicinal to Carewyn’s spirit in a way she couldn’t put into words.

Orion was quiet for a very, very long moment as he watched Carewyn. At one point, he even caught his little daughter biting her lip as she grinned up at him and Carewyn, and he quickly averted his gaze, trying to bite back a self-conscious smile of his own.

“...You’re welcome.”

Always, he never said aloud, but he hoped dearly would still come across. You will always be welcome, here. ...Always...

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley and the Circle of Khanna

Chapter 21: Amends

A/N: Another year has come and gone at Hogwarts, but Artemis has some unfinished business to attend to before she can leave. Characters mentioned belong to @lifeofkaze, @thatravenpuffwitch, @that-scouse-wizard, @samshogwarts, and @kc-and-co. Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of sports related injury, references to canon typical discrimination, and mentions of death, grief, and loss.

Once the Aurors had left with Jacob and Rakepick, Professor Dumbledore sent the Circle of Khanna back to their dormitories.

“Except for you, Miss Hexley,” he said, and Artemis stopped walking with Tonks and Penny to face him. “There are things that I wish to discuss with you privately, if I may.”

Artemis had expected Dumbledore to take her back to his office, but instead, they walked straight past the gargoyle corridor in the direction of the hospital wing. The hospital wing itself was full of people and absent of statues.

“It worked!” Artemis said as she caught sight of Madam Pomfrey walking among her fellow victims of the statue curse. “They’ve all gone back to normal.”

“So it would appear,” said Dumbledore, bowing his head. He gestured to the staircase, and together he and Artemis descended the steps to walk out into the Clocktower Courtyard. Once they were standing outside, he raised his face to the heavens and chuckled gently. “I remember one starry night like this five years ago, I stood with a young girl who asked me about the Cursed Vaults. I distinctly recall telling her then - and several times since then, I might add - that she should leave the Vaults well alone.”

Artemis shrugged. “I’ve never been very good at doing what I’m told, Professor.”

“And for that, we should all be grateful. Thanks to the efforts of yourself and your friends, the school is safe. I should very much like to ask you, if you do not mind indulging my academic curiosity, what lay within the final Cursed Vault?”

“As in the power inside?” Artemis asked, and Dumbledore inclined his head. “I dunno, sir. We never got to opening the Vault properly, because it was protected by… something. It was horrible, we got these visions. Merula and Ben said they were all their worst memories, but I’m not sure. Some of the stuff I don’t remember seeing before, or if I have it was only in a dream, not in real life. It felt real, though, in the Vault. And it felt… awful. Like everything good had been sucked out of the world forever.”  Artemis shuddered. “The merpeople said it was an evil place. It was. We went out, and we were thinking about how to break through the protection when Rakepick arrived. She wanted to kill me, again.”

“As always, Patricia Rakepick proves herself to be highly determined in getting what she wants.”

“Yeah. I mean, she could’ve killed me before, that night in the forest when… I don’t know why she didn’t honestly. It would’ve been easy because we weren’t paying attention to her, not after Rowan... But anyway, by the time we captured her, we were all worried. So we sealed the Vault. Jacob said it would stop the curse, it just means that eventually someone will have to go back and break all of the curses once and for all. He said that we would do it, but then he…”

Artemis’ voice tailed off. Once again, Jacob’s actions had left her mystified. And Jacob had left her. Again. Not only that, he had told the Aurors that he was the one who killed Duncan, that he was a member of the cabal. It couldn’t be true, but if it was untrue, why had he said all those things to the Aurors?

“If my memory serves me correctly,” said Dumbledore quietly, “that night when we first talked, you asked me whether I believed your brother to be mad, bad, or dangerous.”

“Maybe. It was a long time ago.”

“Indeed it was. But I did not believe it then, and I do not believe it now.”

“Do you know why he handed himself to the Aurors?” Artemis asked, continuing without even giving Dumbledore a chance to answer, “Do you know if it’s true, what he said about being part of R and killing Duncan? You don’t believe that he killed Duncan, do you?”

“I cannot pretend to know what your brother thinks, however I would hazard a guess that he is suffering from a guilty conscience, one that he wishes to relieve by attempting to make amends.”

Artemis frowned, not sure if she entirely understood Dumbledore’s words.

“So, what’s going to happen now?” she asked him.

“I am certain that the Aurors and the Wizengamot will see to it that justice is served appropriately, to both your brother and Madam Rakepick.”

“And what about here, at Hogwarts? And the Cursed Vaults? And me?”

“The Cursed Vaults will remain a mystery, and shall lie dormant until someone next attempts to open them, sometime in the future. When exactly, only time will tell,” Dumbledore fixed his blue eyes on Artemis behind his half-moon spectacles. “As for you, Miss Hexley, you have another month and a half before term ends, and another year of education after that. I suggest you make the most of it.”

There was a finality in his tone that made it clear that Artemis was dismissed. As she walked towards the door of the clocktower to return to her dormitory, the bell chimed twelve times. Behind her she heard Professor Dumbledore call her name, and she looked back to see him smiling at her.

“I believe I should wish you a happy birthday, Miss Hexley.”

With all the plans about the Cursed Vault, Artemis had almost forgotten all about her birthday. Thankfully, her friends had not. After lessons ended for the day, Penny and Tonks practically dragged her to the Three Broomsticks, where Rosmerta had decorated the bar with paper chains and colourful floating bubbles, and all of the Circle of Khanna had gathered around a set of tables.

“You really didn’t have to go to all this effort, Ros,” said Artemis, as Rosmerta pressed a small parcel into her hands. 

“Nonsense, love. You’re seventeen. All grown up,” Ros smiled. “Now, are you going to use magic to open that present or not?”

Of course. Now that she was of age, Artemis was actually allowed to use magic outside of school. She grinned, and used her wand to vanish the wrapping paper off the gift. She had been expecting more Muggle music for the machine Ros had given her for Christmas the year before, but instead found herself holding an entirely different Muggle device. This one was small and square, with a dark glass circle in the centre, and a light glass square in one corner.

“Thanks, Ros,” Artemis smiled and frowned at the same time. “Um, what is this?”

“It’s a camera, love. It prints out photos as you take them,” Rosmerta informed her. “I thought that with you only having one year left at school, you would like a way to keep hold of as many nice memories as possible.”

“Yeah, I would. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love. So, what do you want to have for your first drink as a grown woman?”

Artemis carried a small glass of a burgundy liquid that smelled like marzipan (“sloe gin, love”) and the Muggle camera over to her friends, and Penny showed her how it worked. By the time they left the inn and returned to the Hufflepuff dormitory, she had almost twenty photos of her and her friends and a niggling sensation in her head and heart. If only Rowan had been there. If only she had more photos of Rowan from when she had been there. Her first instinct was to push the thought away, but she stopped herself, and instead let the feeling sit there for a moment, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, and picturing Rowan’s face, her doe-like brown eyes, the graceful curve of her nose, her smile. It was not a photograph, but it was something, at least.

“Are you alright, Artemis?” asked Alanza, sitting on the bed that used to be Rowan’s. Artemis smiled at her and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “Just thinking, that’s all. Thanks, though. It was nice of you to ask.”

“You know what else is nice?” Penny said, and she nodded her head at Chiara, who had brought her bedding into the dormitory to join the girls in their festivities. “You being here, Chiara. You really should stay here all the time, you know.”

Chiara gave Penny a thin-lipped smile. “As I told you before, I don’t want to wake you all up taking medications and-”

“And, as I told you before, none of us would mind one bit. Would we, Tonks?”

“Nah, I’m a deep sleeper.”

“See? Artemis and Alanza don’t mind either, do you?”

“It does not matter if I mind or not,” Alanza shrugged. “I will not be here next year anyway. I go back to Brazil at the end of term.”

“Oh, you must be so excited to see your family and friends.”

“I am, yes. But I will miss my friends here at Hogwarts, too. And Charlie, of course. Hopefully he will be able to visit me sometime. You all can visit as well one day, I will miss you four very much, too.”

“We will all miss you too, Alanza,” said Artemis, realising for the first time that she meant it. She had grown to quite like Alanza after all.

“Thank you, Artemis. You know, Chiara, you can have my bed when I go home, if you like.”

Before Chiara could either accept or decline Alanza’s offer, the door of the dormitory swung open. In crashed a short and stocky girl with short blue hair.

“Sorry for crashing in like a roaster,” said Skye Parkin, her face flushing. “I just need to chat tae ye, Hexley.”

“Fine. What about?”

“Cordelia Costa had a messed up cure for boils tipped over her hands in Potions class this afternoon, and her hands have come up in the most massive boils ye have ever seen. Madam Pomfrey says they’ll take a month tae heal properly, so  she cannae play Quidditch next weekend. It means we’re down a Chaser. I’ve been tryin’ tae find a replacement but it’s slim pickings out there. Aw ma year are too busy revising for the N.E.W.T.s and the fifth years are aw flapping aboot the O.W.L.s. The fourth years are pure mince, and I’m already using my reserve player, so… Can you do it?”

Artemis frowned. “I’m not a Chaser, Skye.”

“That’s nae bother, Hopper will play Chaser. But that leaves us without a Seeker. She cannae play both, ken?” Skye sighed. “Look, Hexley, I ken that ye didnae want tae play anymore after what happened tae yer pal, but honestly, I’m desperate. Please? It’s the final, and I cannae go against Rath with no Seeker, those Ravenclaws will batter us.”

She looked at Artemis imploringly, and Artemis could see from the look in her green eyes that she meant it. So, Artemis nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Ye wee stoater, Hexley. Cheers, hen. See you oan the pitch at dawn, aye? We’re gaun tae need some emergency practice sessions tae get us aw back in shape. Rath won’t ken what’s hit her.”

Skye wandered off, muttering about Erika Rath under her breath.

“Well,” said Artemis. “Looks like I need to find my broomstick.”

She found her Comet 260 under her bed, next to the pair of matching burgundy notebooks she had intended to give Rowan for her seventeenth birthday, but had never got the opportunity to do so. She pushed them back, and pulled out the broomstick. It needed a good polish, but other than that it was ready to fly again. 

And so was she.

The final Quidditch match of the year was between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and its result would decide the winner of the Cup.

Ravenclaw was in the lead, but - as Murphy McNully reliably informed Artemis - there was still a chance of Hufflepuff snatching a victory from the jaws of defeat, provided that they beat Ravenclaw with a wide margin, which Skye was confident that they would.

Unfortunately, it turned out not to be the case. 

The match was marginally less violent than the year before, with only two injuries: Abigail Adler, one of the Ravenclaw Chasers, sustained an injury during a manoeuvre Skye called “Parkin’s Pincer”, and Jean Bean the Hufflepuff Beater was knocked out of the sky by the combined force of both Rath and Cassiopeia using their bats to hit a Bludger at her simultaneously.

With one Beater out of the game, David Willows was having to work twice as hard to defend the players against Rath and Cassiopeia, leaving him unable to mount any form of powerful attack against the opposing team, and Andre Egwu and Hufflepuff’s Keeper Amelia Booth were equally matched as Keepers. Still, with Adler out of play, the Hufflepuff Chasers had the advantage. Skye, Lizzie, and Ellie worked well as a team, and over a few hours managed to rack up a score in Hufflepuff’s favour. 

The fate of the game rested with Artemis, whose job was fairly simple: keep the Ravenclaw Seeker busy, wait for the point lead to increase, then catch the Snitch. This was complicated by the opposing Seeker, Samantha O’Connell, who seemed to have caught on to - or perhaps had been told about - all of Artemis’ distraction techniques, for she didn’t fall for any of them and stayed consistently focussed on her own hunt for the Snitch. 

When Artemis finally saw the tiny golden ball, Hufflepuff still did not have enough of a lead to win the Cup. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one to have caught sight of the Snitch; O’Connell saw it too. 

She had no choice; if she didn’t catch the Snitch now, Hufflepuff would lose the match as well as the Cup. So, she leaned forward and accelerated with the opposing Seeker, taking a deep dive and overtaking her, the wind whistling in her ears and whipping her hair as she gained speed and drew closer and closer to…

“Hexley catches the Golden Snitch,” Murphy’s voice echoed across the pitch. “Hufflepuff win 220 to 60, but Ravenclaw take the Cup!”

“Och, dinnae fash yerself, hen,” said Skye, when Artemis stopped her at the post-match party to apologise for not waiting longer to catch the Snitch. “At least we won the match, aye?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Artemis shrugged. “Does that mean that I can come back to the team next term? I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed playing Quidditch, what with everything that happened this year.”

Skye laughed. “It’s nae ma decision. I’ll be graduating next month, ken?.”

“What are you going to do after you leave?”

“I’m joining a professional team. Ma family’s team actually, the Wigtown Wanderers. I told ye before that ma Pa is the manager, and ma older brothers are already playing.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Aye, but it’s a lot of pressure. Always has been. At home, it’s the only thing that matters, and I just want tae… Aye, never mind. Sorry for havering, Hexley.”

“That’s fine, I don’t mind,” Artemis told her. “I’m sorry for quitting earlier in the year. Hopefully whoever is Captain next year will let me back. Who is going to be Captain?”

“Dinnae ken yet. Jameson, Bean and I are aw aff, Willows does nae want the responsibility, the others have aw only been playing for a year. You dinnae want it, dae ye?”

“Not a chance,” Artemis laughed, and so did Skye. “I had a go at being the leader of a club this year and it’s really not my thing. Besides, I only played one match this year, and I don’t know enough about strategies and I’m no good at working out point margins and…” her voice tailed off as she had an idea. “Actually, Skye, I think I know who would be a great captain.”

“Who?”

Artemis looked across the Great Hall to where Murphy was sitting with Katriona Cassiopeia, the red-haired Ravenclaw Beater, on his lap. Skye frowned.

“McNully? He cannae fly, he’s in a wheelchair.”

“So what?” Artemis asked. “He knows more about Quidditch than anyone and it was his strategies that won us the Cup last year. And we’re Hufflepuffs. Aren’t we meant to believe in fair chances?”

“Aye,” Skye raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly. “Aye, it’s no a bad idea. I am gaun tae have words with him about getting quite so close to the Ravenclaw Beaters, though. Cannae have that from our Captain.”

“That’s a shame.”

“For why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Artemis grinned, her eyes finding those of Erika Rath, which were fixed on Skye, and were filled with an expression that was far softer than anger. “I just think that there might be a Ravenclaw Beater who wouldn’t mind getting a little closer to you.”

“Och, naw. She’s just still raging about those rumours I started last year about her and that missing broomstick.”

“Then maybe it’s time that you try making amends,” said Artemis, and she gave Skye a small but mischievous smirk as she walked away from her, leaving a clear path between the two girls who were - for now, at least - rival team captains.

Artemis’ return to the Quidditch team might have distracted Penny from nagging Chiara Lobosca to take Alanza’s empty bed in the girls’ dormitory, but Chiara’s respite was short-lived. On the final night of term, while Alanza was making the most of her final evening with Charlie and the other girls were busy packing up their belongings, Penny dragged Chiara across the hallway and into the dormitory.

“See, there would be plenty of room for you, especially with Alanza leaving. I don’t mind taking down the garlands if you don’t like them, and Tonks can always free the bat.”

“Excuse me?”

“The beds are really comfy in here,” Penny continued, ignoring the affronted look Tonks was giving her. “Come and sit on Alanza’s bed - she won’t mind - and you’ll see what I mean. Chiara. Sit.”

Chiara did as Penny said and sat down on Alanza’s bed, though she sighed softly as she did so.

“Penny, I-”

“There. Don’t you think it’s comfy?”

“It is, Penny, and I’m really touched that you want me to move in here with you three, but I can’t,” Chiara said, her voice gentle and firm, all at once. “I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

“But-”

“Leave it, Penny,” muttered Artemis, shoving Fergus’ toys into her trunk. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine!” Penny said shrilly. “Because once Alanza leaves it will just be the three of us again, and Chiara is all alone, and I hate that we will have an empty bed and Chiara will have an empty dormitory, and I hate that Rowan won’t get to be here for our final year and that if we’d known that we would have spent more time with her when she was here, and now it’s too late.”

“Penny, don’t be upset, I didn’t mean-”

“And we should have spent more time with you as well, Chiara, and soon it will be too late for that, too. But you could still move in here and we could make up for you not having been here before, if you let us,” Penny looked at Chiara imploringly with her tear-filled blue eyes. “Please, will you let us?”

Chiara stared at the floor and shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Penny’s right, Chiara,” said Tonks. “You should move in here with us. It’s rotten of us for not insisting before.”

“But-”

“We don’t give a hoot about you waking us up in the night, honestly.”

“That’s not what this is about, it’s… Well, I’m not… I’m…”

Artemis frowned. “Chiara, you really don’t have to-”

“No. It’s okay, Artemis,” Chiara smiled sadly. “You see, the truth is… Well, the illness I have, it’s not a bleeding curse. It’s lycanthropy.” 

Both Penny and Tonks fell silent, their lips parting and eyebrows furrowing.

“What?” Tonks asked eventually.

“I’m a werewolf. That’s why I have my own room, so I can take my Wolfsbane potion and transform without anyone being near me. I can’t move in here, because I don’t want to hurt you.”

Tonks pursed her lips. “But if you’re taking the Wolfsbane potion, you’re harmless, right?” 

“Well, yes, but-”

“Ah, then it’s fine. I mean, we’re used to this kind of thing; we’ve already got Artemis turning into a cat every five minutes-”

“It’s not that often!”

“- and if I’m being honest, I’ve always been more of a dog person anyway,” Tonks shrugged and turned to Penny, whose lips were thin and cheeks pale. “What do you think, Pen?”

Artemis held her breath, not sure how Penny would react. After what felt like an age, Penny lifted her gaze to Chiara’s, her front teeth grazing her lower lip. When she finally spoke, her voice held a slight tremor.

“Would you be able to teach me how to make a Wolfsbane Potion?” 

Chiara nodded, and a cackling Tonks ran across the room to jump on top of both her and Penny, knocking them backwards on the bed with a loud squeal and a giggle and pinning Chiara down.

“Artemis, help me! We can’t let her leave!”

Laughing, Artemis pulled out the camera Madam Rosmerta had given her and used it to print a photo of the others before joining them, Fergus watching from the windowsill with a look of disdain in his bottle-green eyes. They continued to laugh even as Chiara returned to her dormitory, promising to think about moving into Alanza’s empty bed next term.

“It’s going to be a bit weird without Alanza, isn’t it?” Tonks asked. 

“I know what you mean. I’ve kind of gotten used to having her around,” said Artemis, frowning at Alanza’s - or was it Chiara’s, now? - empty bed. “Where is she, anyway? She can’t still be with Charlie, surely?”

“Oh, well. I expect that they will be having a rather long conversation, if you know what I mean.”

“No, Penny. I haven’t got the foggiest what you mean.”

“Well,” Penny sighed, “I expect that they’re breaking up.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because Alanza is going back to Brazil, and Charlie is staying here. It’s not like they’ll be able to see each other, is it? Just make sure that you’re nice to her when she comes back.”

“I’m always nice to her,” Artemis said, and Penny pursed her lips. “What? I am now.”

“Yes, I know, but remember, she will be just as upset as Charlie is. Try not to take his side over hers.”

Artemis’ eyebrows furrowed, and she returned to her half-packed trunk. If only there were something she could do to help. As she pulled out her last items from under her bed, she realised that maybe there was something she could do.

The following morning, when the other girls went into the Great Hall for their final breakfast together before the carriages departed for Hogsmeade station, Artemis lingered in the entrance hall, waiting for the Gryffindor boys to arrive. When they did, she grabbed Charlie by the arm and pulled him out into the courtyard outside.

“What’s up?” Charlie asked her, frowning deeply. “Are you alright?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. Are you alright?”

“Uh, I think so. Why?” Charlie’s frown deepened momentarily before he raised his eyebrows and nodded in recognition. “Oh, Alanza. Yeah, I’m… We’re going to see how it goes, so that’s… Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”

He gave Artemis a smile, though it was strained and forced. Artemis put her hand on his forearm.

“You’re upset,” she told him, and he shrugged.

“Yeah, sort of. I mean, I didn’t really want to break up, and I definitely didn’t want to upset her more than she already was, but I guess it’s just not very hopeful, is it? Brazil’s a really long way away. It’s not like I could afford to get Portkeys to visit her, and it would be too far for me to Apparate, even if I had passed my Apparition exam-”

“And you wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened in the exam. Alanza’s poor grandmother would be terrified.”

“Oi!” Charlie pushed Artemis gently. “I only got the destination a couple of miles wrong, and how was I supposed to know that poor old Muggle lady would be there?” He shook his head and added, “But you’re right, that probably wouldn’t make the best first impression.”

“Definitely not. What about writing? You could write to her, couldn’t you?”

“I could, but it would take ages for the letters to get there and back. I asked at the Owl Post Office last Hogsmeade weekend,” Charlie shrugged again. “It is what it is, I suppose.”

“But it doesn’t have to be,” Artemis told him, and she opened up her yellow rucksack, rummaged past her Muggle music machine, her camera, and an old cardigan to find what she was looking for, before handing Charlie two notebooks, both bound in wine-coloured leather. “Here. These are for you.”

“Thanks,” Charlie opened one and fanned through the blank pages. “Uh, no offence, but… Why?”

“Because you’re my friend, and I can see that you’re actually upset even though you’re just shrugging your shoulders and pretending that you’re ‘alright’,” Artemis gave Charlie a pointed look, and he half-laughed. She nodded her head at the two notebooks. “They’re a pair, when you write in one, the writing appears in the other so you can send messages to each other.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed, and he tried to push the notebooks back towards Artemis. “No, I can’t take these.”

“Why not? They’re a present.”

“But they must have been expensive. Keep them.”

“I don’t want them,” Artemis said, completely honestly. “I bought them to give to Rowan for her seventeenth birthday, and… Well, she’s not going to use them, is she? You might as well have them.”

“Artie, I can’t-”

“If you don’t take them, I will throw them in the bin,” Artemis crossed her arms across her chest. “Besides, I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are.”

“Well then. It would be downright bloody rude of you not to accept my gift, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” Charlie sighed. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.”

“Right. Then I’ll take them. Thank you. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome,” Artemis smiled as Charlie placed the notebooks in his satchel. She slung her rucksack over her shoulder and linked arms with him. “Come on, or they’ll run out of bacon.”

“That would be the real heartbreak in this situation.”

Thankfully, there was still bacon left at the Hufflepuff table, where the entirety of the Circle of Khanna had gathered to eat breakfast together before getting into the Thestral-drawn carriages.

Just as Artemis joined Penny, Chiara, and Tonks in their carriage, she paused to look closer at the Thestral, which blinked at her with its inky hooded eyes. She reached up and stroked its downy nose. It was softer than she had imagined it would be.

When their carriage reached Hogsmeade station, Artemis did not board the Hogwarts Express. Instead, she hugged her friends goodbye, making sure to hug Alanza twice (“Don’t forget, if you ever want to come to Brazil, you can stay with my family!”) before waving goodbye and watching the train pull away without her, Fergus miaowing dolefully at her side.

“What? You don’t really want to go back to Ma’s house, do you?” Artemis asked him, bending down to stroke him as he rubbed against her ankles. “I didn’t think so. We’ll have a much better time staying with Madam Rosmerta.”

A breeze ruffled through her hair and made her shiver, and she pulled the old cardigan of Rowan’s tighter around herself. In the corner of her eye, she noticed that the clock still read ten past ten. She smiled to herself, finally understanding what Rowan had meant when they had last stood here together; it was reassuring to know that some things would always remain the same, no matter how life changed.

“Expecto patronum.”

As she lifted her wand and whispered the words, a rush of silver light unfurled in the air in front of her, swirling into the lithe dappled form of a cheetah. The cheetah looked at her, and she nodded her head at it in recognition before following it down the length of the platform, letting it guide her to the place that, for this summer at least, she would call her home.

[flareshin]

Merry Christmas @kc-and-co

I wish you merry merry Christmas 🎄🎁🎄🎁 lot of gifts, wonderful holidays and a relaxing time!!!! 💙❤️💚💛

Kate and McNully are helping Santa

[that-scouse-wizard]

Through Thick and Thin

Day 4 of @cursebreakerfarrier‘s Back to School challenge (a day late I know 😂) Technically takes place before Hogwarts but this was too good not to use with these two. Characters mentioned here belong to @kc-and-co and @lifeofkaze 

Robin bounced excitedly in her seat as the car came to a crawl before stopping. To muggles, the castle in front of them would have looked ominous and decrepit, not a place any sane person would want to go exploring. For Robin however, the ancient structure was a place she had been excited about since her parents had first proposed the idea to her. Today was the day she and Nick would be attending Katriona Cassiopeia’s famous quidditch camp.

Though she was far more enthusiastic than her twin by a country mile, Nick seemed pleased to have finally arrived as well.

The family exited their vehicle, Robin practically launching herself towards the boot, where her rucksack was stored. “Excited?” David asked, chuckling as he opened it up for her, she snatched the bright yellow Wimbourne Wasps rucksack. Nick by contrast took his dark blue one out much more calmly.

“Right kids, remember. Everything you need is those rucksacks, write to us if you get homesick and most important, be careful. Yeah?” David asked, Robin nodding vigorously, whilst Nick did similar.

“With Rath and Cassiopeia around, I’m sure you’ll be in good hands, stay out of trouble you two.” Merula warned light-heartedly, with Robin due to meet up with Reva, chaos was bound to occur.

“Will do mum and dad, love you!” Robin called as she began sprinting for the castle, “I’ll race you Nick!”

“Hey that’s cheating!” Nick shouted after her, giving both of his parents a brief hug before taking off after his sister.

David and Merula beamed, his arm over her shoulder as they watched their children running for the camp, “You know that without us or the Amaris around Robin and Reva are going to be completely uncontrolled, right?” Merula asked.

“Oh yeah,” David nodded in agreement, “I gave Murph and KC the heads up, they’ll think of something for them.”

“I hope you’re right,” Merula laughed, finally turning her attention from the kids towards her husband, “In the meantime, we’re free to do whatever we want.” David smirked as Merula gave him a knowing look, they rarely had time away from the kids nowadays, they aimed to make the best of it.

Robin cheered triumphantly, entering the foyer where several other children who were first timers had gathered. Even going so far as to do a victory pirouette and bow, she had won the race against her brother. Nick came in shortly after, rolling his eyes at Robin’s showboating. Just as she was about to start jokingly gloating, a squeal of delight cut her off.

“Robin!” It was none other than Reva Amari, who immediately tackled her best friend, Robin happily returning the vice-like grip.

“Have you got the snacks?” Robin asked, Reva nodded.

“Have you got the drinks?” Reva asked in response, Robin returned the nod.

The two of them giggling at the thought of the epic midnight feast that would be sure to come about, chock full of sweets, salty snacks and soft drinks. After a long day of quidditch and causing chaos, such a banquet was the perfect way to celebrate as well as defy any trivial ‘lights out’ rule.

“Alright first-timers, settle down.” The announcement came from Murphy McNully, the crowd of children falling silent as he wheeled over to them, followed by an imposing Erika Rath, “Now as I’m sure you’re aware we have four teams for you to join up with, Rowan’s Ravens, Dora’s Dragons, Freddie’s Foxes and Llewelyn’s Lions. For those who already know what it is the teams do, feel free to choose. If not, Miss Rath hear can explain their functions. In the meantime, I would like to have a word with Reva Amari and Robin Willows.”

A few curious glances went the duo’s way but for the most part, no one but Nick knew who they were. Those who already knew what each house stood for rushed to boxes containing the jerseys. Others began queuing up for questions directed at Erika. In the middle of the chaos, Robin and Reva held each other’s hands so they wouldn’t lose each other.

As Murphy waved his wand to begin levitating his wheelchair up a set of stairs, the girls followed after him, giving them an overhead view of the others below. Robin seeing Nick now donning the pink of Dora’s Dragons, they were focused more on broom making, team management and playing the game at an introductory level. Something that Robin thought would be suited for Nick.

“Now then,” Murphy began as he lead the two of them into his office, “I hear the two of you have a certain talent for pranks.” Both girls grinned at that they did enjoy it, especially if the target was either Dylan or Nick.

“Judging by your smirks I’d say there’s an 89% chance of what your parents have told me being right. Which is perfect as I have a special assignment for the two of you,” Murphy’s statement peaked the girl’s interest, “I happen to believe I’m at least somewhat successful at picking out people with the potential to be great quidditch players, so far I’ve been proven right with David, Lizzie, Orion and even my darling wife. I believe the best way is to get them to hone their talents. However, in your case, I feel that we can channel your innate desire towards mischief-making for not just your own benefits but even the entire camp!”

Robin and Reva gave each other, and Murphy, a puzzled look. Where exactly was he going with this?

“That’s why, I want the two of you to start a prank war with each other.” There was a long pause as such a revelation stunned the two girls.

“You’re serious?” Robin asked, just the faintest hint of joy seeping into her tone. Reva was pinching herself to be sure it wasn’t a dream.

“Indeed,” Murphy grinned, “There are a few things to consider. For one, do nothing that would damage equipment, do not target staff members and above all else, do not tamper with my wife’s coffee.” Both girl’s nodded, shuddering at the last point, being fairly confident nothing would placate Katriona Cassiopeia’s rage if that were to happen.

“Excellent! Now, go fetch your jerseys, I’m sure you’d both make a fine addition to Llwelyn’s Lions.”

The two of them were positively giddy with excitement at being allowed almost free reign to do whatever they wanted as far as pranking went. Yet even so, they scrutinised each other, silently trying to come up with the best way to get ahead in the coming prank war. Even as they took on the Lion’s lavender colouration, they dared not turn their back on the other.

They both rounded a corner into the mess hall, all students from every house were gathered there, enjoying a banquet of sandwiches and cakes with juice and water as refreshments. At the centre piece was a beautifully baked Victoria sponge, somehow untouched and so perfect for smashing into someone’s face.

Robin and Reva looked at each other, they began slowly walking towards the cake, that became a light jog, then a run until finally it was a full on sprint. Robin had always been faster off the broom and reached the cake first. Yet, Reva slammed into her, planting Robin’s face into the cake. Robin was down briefly but far from out. She took a fistful of cake, cream and jam before smearing into Reva’s face.

With that declaration of war made, the food fight soon became a free for all. Something sure to go down in the history books as one of the greatest welcome’s to the quidditch camp.

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

If the Shoe Fits

A/N #1: It is now time for the first fic of my new series: the Quidditch series! One MC other than my own makes an appearance in this fic and it is none other than Katriona Cassiopeia, created by the lovely @kc-and-co!

“Ugh! Can you believe the amount of homework we already have?” said Alice, dragging her feet as she followed Rowan to the Great Hall. 

“It’s not that bad,” said Rowan, turning around.

“Not that bad? We have–” started saying Alice before being interrupted by the Ravenclaw Quidditch team slamming the door leading to the courtyard open.

Alice and Rowan observed them as they carried one of their teammates to the infirmary. Their friend Andre’s face was pale as he entered the infirmary with the others.

“What do you think happened?” asked Alice to Rowan.

Rowan shrugged. “By the looks of it, nothing good.”

“Andre did look pale,” pondered Alice.

“I guess we can ask him about it later. Come on, let’s go eat,” said Rowan as she pulled her friend toward the Great Hall.

As the two friends ate their meals, discussing the various essays they would have to start writing later, they saw Andre enter the Great Hall. Alice waved to him, and he quickly made his way to her, sitting next to his fashion muse.

“Is everything ok?” asked Alice as Andre placed some food on his plate. 

“One of my chasers got hit by a bludger during practice,” said Andre, sighing.

“Wait, you were practicing today? It’s like 3 degrees outside! Are you trying to torture your team?” exclaimed Alice.

“We don’t have a choice. Our match is in less than two weeks. Though with one less chaser, any practice feels futile, especially against Slytherin.”

“Don’t you have reserve players?” asked Rowan, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“Technically, yes, but unfortunately, most have joined other clubs and are busy with those. I guess I could ask the ones that aren’t busy, but none are chasers,” explained Andre, staring at the food on his plate.

“You could always hold tryouts?” suggested Alice.

“ Less than two weeks before the game? In Ravenclaw? Most people in our house are too busy to bother. I guess I can kiss goodbye to the cup this year,” said Andre, pushing a piece of carrot with his fork.

“Don’t be so defeatist. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

“But Andre is 91% right,” said a voice behind them.

Alice turned around to see a blond boy in a wheelchair.

“Oh, hey McNully,” said Andre at the new arrival. He noticed Alice and Rowan staring at Murphy, clearly not knowing who he was. “This is Murphy McNully,” he said to the girls. “He’s the Quidditch commentator. McNully, these are Rowan Khanna —”

“Pleasure to meet you,” interrupted Rowan. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. I do enjoy your thorough analysis of Quidditch.”

“Thank you,” replied McNully, beaming. He looked toward Alice, “And this must be Alice Beaumont, Hogwarts’ famed Curse-Breaker and the one who saved Charlie Weasley from breaking into a million pieces.”

“You know who I am?”

Rowan raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Alice, after defeating three Cursed Vaults, do you really think there’s someone in this school who doesn’t know you?”

“I would say around 89.3% of students know who you are. The others being the first years who might not have heard about your exploits yet,” said McNully.

“That’s awfully precise,” said Alice, staring at him.

“It’s his thing,” replied Andre.

“Yes, well, I think we should talk about what strategy to adopt to increase our chances to win against Slytherin. Or at least for the match to not be a complete massacre,” said McNully, pointing to a pile of leather notebooks resting on his knees.

“I guess we could do that now. I’m not hungry anyway,” said Andre as he got up. 

“We’re done eating, so I guess we’ll follow you out,” said Rowan as Alice took one last mouthful of cake.

As they followed the two boys out of the Great Hall, Alice whispered to Rowan, “Why did you say we were done eating? I was clearly not done with my cake.”

“I just thought we should start working on our homework,” she said, staring at the back of McNully’s head.

Alice looked in the direction Rowan was looking. Her lips formed a mischievous smile. “Oooh, I see. You have a thing for stats boy.”

“I just find his analysis interesting.”

“But I don’t think I ever saw you attend a Quidditch match.”

“He writes about the matches in the school’s paper.”

“I see… Wait, we have a school newspaper?”

“Honestly, Alice, sometimes I feel like you live under a rock.”

They bumped into a redhead as the small group entered the Entrance Hall. 

“Hey, KC,” said Andre.

“Hey, Captain. Already done eating?” asked KC.

Andre nodded as McNully said, “Yes. We are now off to see how the team can salvage your next match.”

KC smirked. “Aren’t you suppose to be impartial?”

“In the commentary box, yes. But as a member of the House of Ravenclaw, I want our team to crush Slytherin.”

“Fat chance of that,” scoffed a voice Alice knew all too well.

“Merula,” said Alice through gritted teeth, Rowan holding one of her arms to restrain her from going after the Slytherin pest.

“You have no chance to beat Slytherin with a missing chaser, not to mention you won’t be able to find a decent replacement in time,” continued Merula, oblivious to Alice.

“Nobody asked for your opinion,” grumbled Andre as he tried walking away.

“You know I’m right, Egwu. It’s written all over your face. Better forfeit now than face ridicule when Slytherin makes mincemeat out of Ravenclaw,” jeered Merula.

KC rolled her eyes before going inside the Great Hall, clearly not caring for Merula’s taunts. As for Andre, he did his best to ignore her, but his clenched fists betrayed the effect she was having on him.

“Just leave him alone, Merula. You’re not even on the Quidditch team, so what do you care,” said Alice, freeing her arm from Rowan’s grip.

“Because it’s about time you lot realize that Ravenclaw is a house of losers, just like you, Beaumont,” said Merula, laughing as she turned around, heading for the dungeons.

“I swear I will—” started saying Alice as she reached for her wand in her robe’s pocket, only to find it empty. She turned around to see Rowan holding her wand, pleading with her eyes for Alice not to do anything rash. 

Alice turned back to see Merula getting further away. Without thinking, she removed one of her shoes and, after a brief moment to take aim, threw it straight at Merula’s head.

“OW!” said Merula, rubbing the back of her head as she looked to the ground. “Is that all you have, Beaumont? A shoe? I’ll show you what the Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts can do,” she said, taking out her wand.

Alice grabbed her wand from Rowan, and as she did, she saw Flitwick was heading their way. She accio’ed her shoe back to her and put it back on just in time for Flitwick to see Merula in a duelling stance and everyone else just staring at her.

“Miss Snyde, what are you doing?” asked Professor Flitwick, frowning.

“Beaumont threw a shoe at me!” exclaimed Merula, pointing at Alice with her wand.

Flitwick looked at Alice’s feet where both of her shoes were. He looked back at Merula, an eyebrow raised. “It seems like Miss Beaumont has both of her shoes on. Miss Snyde, I am afraid I will have to take 50 points from Slytherin for trying to start a duel outside of the club and without supervision.”

“But she—,” tried to interject Ismelda.

“Miss Murk, I think it would be best if you and Miss Snyde headed to your common room to avoid any more trouble,” sternly said Professor Flitwick.

Merula let out a grunt before turning back toward the dungeons with Ismelda.

“Miss Beaumont,” started Professor Flitwick, looking down at her shoes, “just a reminder that shoes are meant to be worn on feet and not used as projectiles.”

“Yes, Professor,” said Alice, eyes wide.

“And I shall suggest the same thing to you and Miss Khana that I suggested to Miss Snyde and Miss Murk.”

“Yes, Professor,” said Alice and Rowan in unison.

“I bid you good night then,” he said, walking away.

Rowan let out a sigh of relief once their Head of House was out of sight. “You were really lucky there, Alice.”

“Are you saying I can’t aim?”

“No! I was talking about Professor Flitwick letting you go! You shouldn’t have thrown that shoe in the first place!”

“Aw, come on! You can’t tell me seeing Merula get hit by a shoe wasn’t fun, right? It was sure fun doing it,” replied Alice, grinning.

Rowan shook her head, a small smile appearing. “I swear you’ll be the death of me, Alice. But fine, it was fun seeing that shoe land straight at the back of her head.”

“That’s the spirit. You okay, Andre?” asked Alice, who had nearly forgotten about her other friend. 

Andre simply nodded, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide. 

“He kinda looks odd to me,” said Rowan, narrowing her eyes as she looked at him.

“He’s perfectly fine,” said McNully, tapping his friend’s back. “Just surprised you, uh, got away with it.”

Alice shrugged. “He should be used to it by now, but whatever. We’ll see you later in the common room,” she said, waving as she climbed up the Grand Staircase with Rowan.

Once they were gone, Andre turned to McNully. “Did you see that?”

“She has a pretty good aim; I’ll give her that. There’s a 75% chance she could make a decent chaser.”

“Our game against Slytherin may not be completely lost!” exclaimed Andre.

“Woah! Slowdown, Egwu. That 75% chance is if she had started to train in September or October, not less than two weeks before a match! If she started to train tomorrow, she’d have a 55.3% chance of being a decent chaser against Slytherin.”

“It’s still above 50%!”

“Maybe, but, as I said, it’s if she starts training tomorrow. You still have to convince her to play.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Either you are joking, or you are delusional. Are you forgetting that Rakepick is already keeping her busy most of the time because of the portrait curse?”

“Oh, please. Every time I hear Alice mention her, it’s with contempt in her voice.”

“Maybe, but it’s the sister of one of her friends who is stuck there, so I am 100% certain that getting Beatrice Haywood out of there will remain her top priority. Then, there are the O.W.L.s’ exams, not to mention her detentions.”

“I forgot about those.”

“Yes, well, I’m 95% sure that even if she wanted to forget about them, Khanna would not let her. So between that and the Curse, I’m afraid Alice Beaumont has very little time for Quidditch.”

Andre stared at him, an eyebrow raised. “McNully, can I ask you something?”

“No, I am not making up these statistics.”

“Not what I wanted to ask. No, what I want to know is, what are our odds against Slytherin if one of our remaining reserve team players plays as a chaser?”

“Not great, since none were put on the reserve because of their chasing skills.”

“Are the odds better with a barely trained Alice?”

“Considering her raw potential, competitiveness, and dislike of a certain Slytherin, I would say yes. The last two qualities could be explosive when combined, which might lower the odds.”

“That’s all I need to know,” said Andre as he climbed up the stairs.

“But, Andre, I already told you….”

Andre abruptly turned around. “Look, I’m desperate. Our injured chaser won’t be able to play for the rest of the season. I need someone who can not only help us against Slytherin but also against Gryffindor. Alice might just be what we need against those Lions.”

“Gryffindor? What does Alice Beaumont have to do with the Gryffindor team?” shouted McNully after Andre, who was already gone.

McNully furrowed his eyebrows. 

Clearly, he was missing some stats about Gryffindor’s team and the Curse-Breaker.

A/N #2: Hope you enjoyed the first installment of my Quidditch series. As I have said in the past, even though this will be my main project, I will probably write fics unrelated to the series to keep my creativity flowing. Also, this series will include fics more about the 5th-year plot than about Quidditch, but Quidditch will always be somewhere in the background (especially as Alice befriends some members of her team).

[immagrosscandy]

candy draws mcs! pt 1

Carmilla Frank for @carmilla-the-bird

Cato Reese for @catohphm

Gwendolyn Gordon for @drinkyoursoupbitch

(i got to draw wendy again after a long time its like a redraw :'v)

Arjun Singh for @hogwarts9

Katriona Cassiopeia for @kc-needs-coffee

Madeline Orionswan for @madelineorionswan

[judediangelo75]

Til Next Summer, Little Fox

‘Til Next Summer, Little Fox

Amari McNully was many things.

And a quitter wasn’t one of them.

When he first got into Hogwarts, he had his heart set on becoming a Slytherin. To be a Quidditch champion in his own right, much like his mother did when she used to go to school. She and his father taught him all about the sport wizards and witches can come together and bond over.

His parents even created a camp, so already he was ahead of the pack.

All that was left to do was to be placed in his dream House and bring honor to his family name.

Only… it didn’t pan out that way.

When the Sorting Hat declared he was to be a Hufflepuff, he was crushed. Even more so when his twin sister got into the House he wanted and she had no desire to play Quidditch.

He could sit at the Hufflepuff table dejectedly as others around him laughed and chattered amongst themselves.

When he went home that Christmas, he spoken to his mother about his feelings about the entire thing. Talking to her always made him feel better.

Which it did.

Not only did he feel more at peace about the House he was placed in but also he made a little discovery.

An old mentor from his time at camp, a great friend to his parents, was a Hufflepuff alumni herself.

He always remembered the woman fondly.

Judith Winger. A witch with a strict training regime but with a heart of gold to match her eyes. She mainly trained with his team, the Freddie Foxes, which was the considered to produce the toughest team of Beaters.

She always applied pressure on them to hone their skills but was fair enough to stop and talk to someone if they were in a foul mood or they were pushing themselves too hard.

Amari always remembered little tidbits about herself she would share with him.

“My Papa used to be a Beater himself, teaching me some general basics while he was still alive.”

“I always used to meditate or go broom surfing in a quiet place before a match. A still and quiet mind can help in the long run.”

“You know if you asked your mom, she could probably show you the letterman jacket I designed for her when we were in school. I made one for her, Erika, Phoenix, and I with our house colors to wear around. Even with our nicknames inscribed on the back.”

“My gold fangs were a signature trade mark when I was school. My nickname was Tigress on the Quidditch Pitch.” “And you were Little Tigress outside of it!” “DAVID! FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME, I’M NOT LITTLE, YOU STUBBORN GIT!”

He enjoyed having Miss Judith as a mentor, and he could tell that she enjoyed having him as a mentee. She even gave him a pet name.

“Whatchu up to, little fox?”

“Can I help you little fox?”

“Aye, watch the sass there little fox before I made you run three laps around the track.”

One of Amari’s cherished items was a picture from when he was kid.

It was the last day at Camp Cassiopeia. The kids were free to do what they wished and Amari wanted to train with his favorite mentor before he leaves. Miss Judith was always down for some training.

Just as they were heading to store their bats, his mum appeared with a camera in hand, looking to capture some last minute memories of camp that year.

Not wanting to take a picture by himself. He looped his arm around the crook of Miss Judith’s elbow with a laugh.

“Come and take a picture with me, Miss Judith!” He remembered giggling as he said this. Giving a bright, happy expression to the camera lens, he gave his mother a peace sign before she took the picture. Katriona smiled at the pair as she snapped the picture before disappearing to make copies.

Before everyone left, his mum was able to print out the pictures. Before Judith could leave with her husband, Amari ran to find his favorite mentor.

“Ready to go, darling,” Talbott asked his wife, hugging her close while placing a soft kiss on her lips. Before she could reply, she heard a familiar voice calling out to her.

“Miss Judith, Miss Judith! Wait for a second!” Pale gold eyes glanced over to find a familiar styled mop of blonde hair hurdling up to her. Turning around with a smile, Judith stopped to see what the young McNully wanted.

“Hey there, little fox. How can I help you?” Amari stood in front her and her husband, panting to catch his breath before producing the photo of them, along with a pen.

“I-I was wondering if you can sign this before you go…” Judith took ahold of the physical evidence of her little fox catching her by surprise by having her take a picture with him.

The bright happiness that danced in his gray irises and the amused, confused shock reflecting in her own made her and Talbott smile. Tapping the pen against her cheek, she looked down at the young boy with careful thought before writing her message.

“Here you go, little fox.” Amari took back to the picture back to see what she wrote. He half expected to just see her name, but was pleasantly surprised to find a little message just for him.

‘Let people underestimate you… That gives you the chance to embarrass them! ‘Til next summer, little fox. - Judith Winger’

The young boy beamed at her before give her quick bear hug. Judith was happy to return it, ruffling his blonde locks before releasing him.

“Bye, Miss Judith and Mr. Talbott! See you next year!”

Amari forgot all about his little memento until after coming home from Christmas. When he discovered that his own teacher was a Hufflepuff herself. Going through his box filled with his old camp stuff, he found the photograph. It made him laugh a bit because she mainly wore her House colors, she couldn’t be more obvious if she tried.

Judith took pride that she was a Hufflepuff, and a fierce Beater to the boot. She wasn’t always a Quidditch champion but she was fantastic player to be remembered.

Before leaving to go back to Hogwarts, Amari made sure to keep the photo in his bag. While in the train ride back, he took out the picture and let her mentor’s words written in her neat handwriting sink it his mind.

“I will do just that, Miss Judith. I hope I make you proud…”

Whenever Amari felt down, or overlooked, he would take out the picture from that fateful summer and remember her words.

‘Let them underestimate you… That gives you the chance to embarrass them!’

Talk to Amari McNully nice, or you might lose with a resounding “Checkmate.”

————————

And she is back at it again with another one! I’m not 100% yet but I felt inspired to do another drawing with a quick short story.

I did an old drawing of this by hand awhile back but I wanted to do a better job this time. I just turned 22 and have a new program to work with, let’s see the growth, let’s see the improvement.

And now here we are.

I hope you like your surprise @kc-needs-coffee ! Also a short classic David and Judith interaction, even when they’re much older @that-scouse-wizard 🤣

[lifeofkaze]

Katriona pours two margaritas. One is cherry, she sits across from Liz with eyes wide open. Talk, sis.

Lingerie? Yes or no? Or specify the lingerie piece.

Your character’s most private sexual fantasy?

You got more of this? This is one good drink...

Lingerie, you say? Two words for you - red lace. I daresay it'd make for a great gift for... I don't know, a Secret Santa, maybe?

As for the other... I won't tell Orion about that one dream of yours if you're not telling Charlie about mine.

Your turn now?

[the-al-chemist]

Happy birthday Kate!!!!!

It’s my beautiful friend @kc-and-co’s birthday today. Hope you have a day that is as amazing as you are 💛✨🧁 To celebrate, here is KC’s first ever stint as “cover witch” of Witch Weekly magazine. I hope you like it!

[mizutoyama]

Halloween outfits

So, as some of you may know, I love creating outfits for Alice, and I something also create outfit for others. OK, I only created outfits for one other OC. And I did it again, for my Alice and @kc-needs-coffee Katriona Cassiopeia. She gave me an idea to create Halloween outfits HERE.

Alice (Inspiration: Antipodean Opaleye)

Dress | Pumps | Clutch | Headband | Earrings

KC (Inspiration: Golden Snitch)

Dress | Sandals | Clutch | Headband | Earrings

Hope you like it!

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

Of Threats and Persuasions

A/N #1: Fic #2 of the Quidditch series is here! After reviewing it countless times, I think it is ready to come out into the world. (I'm sure I'll read it in a month and still spot a typo...) I hope you enjoy it!

KC belongs to @kc-and-co

As Alice lay asleep in her bed, she felt like someone was watching her. She turned on her side, but the sensation only increased. She slowly opened her eyes, noticing the only light in the room came from Rowan’s candle. The next thing she saw made her fall out of her bed with a yelp.

“Andre! What the bloomin’ hell are you doing here?” she exclaimed, getting up from the floor as her roommates jerked up from their slumber. 

“What is it?” asked Rowan as she tried to feel for her glasses on her nightstand.

“It’s Andre traumatizing Alice at an ungodly hour,” grumbled Tulip, letting her head fall back onto her pillow.

“I still don’t understand how he can access our dorm,” pondered Badeea.

“Never mind that! He was staring at me while I slept, like some sort of creep!” yelled Alice, throwing one of her slippers at Andre, who barely dodged it.

He looked at the thrown slipper land before turning back to Alice, beaming. “That’s exactly why I’m here!”

“Her slipper?” asked Rowan, looking at the slipper lying on the floor.

Alice glared at Andre. “What is it with you and my clothes?” 

“What? No! I’m not here about the slipper! I’m here because you threw that slipper at me and your shoe at Merula yesterday,” said Andre, raising his hands in self-defence.

“Are you here to tell me you plan to report me to Flitwick? At,” she looked at the clock on her nightstand, “5:05 AM?”

Tulip sat up in her bed. “If you woke us up just to tell us you plan on being a bloody snitch, I will put so many dungbombs in your trunk, you’ll never be able to remove the stench from your clothes.”

“Can you just listen to me for a second?” exclaimed Andre, sitting at the edge of Alice’s bed. “I just came up with an idea to save our house’s Quidditch team’s chances of winning the Cup.”

“The Quidditch cup? But what does that have to do with me?”

“You know one of our chasers got injured yesterday and won’t be able to play for the rest of the season, right?”

“Hum, yes.”

“Well, I want you to take his place. I want you to be our new chaser.”

Alice stares at Andre, blinking. “Say what now?” 

“You have a great throw and a great aim, as you just demonstrated.”

“That doesn’t mean I’d be a decent Chaser.”

“You’re also great on a broom. I saw you during our flying classes.”

“Yeah, about that….”

“And McNully thinks you have a good chance of becoming a pretty decent Chaser before our match against Slytherin.”

“Well, if McNully says it,” chimed in Rowan as Alice headed for the bathroom.

“I don’t care what McNully or anyone says. I’m not going to play Quidditch,” said Alice, slamming the bathroom door behind her.

Andre stared at the closed door as the three other girls just looked at him. 

“So…” started saying Tulip, “are you going to leave now? Or are you planning to watch us all go back to sleep?”

“Tulip!” exclaimed Badeea and Rowan.

“No, she’s right. I’ll go. Need to think of another strategy, anyway,” said Andre with a sigh as he headed for the door leading to the staircase.

“Do you really think you’ll be able to convince her?” asked Rowan, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“Honestly? I don’t know, but I won’t give up so easily,” he said before closing the door behind him.

Andre sat down in front of McNully and KC as they ate their breakfast.

“So, any luck convincing the Curse-Breaker to join our team?” asked McNully.

“Our?” replied KC with a smirk. “Again, aren’t you supposed to be impartial?”

“In the commenter’s box. Outside, I’m a loud and proud Ravenclaw.”

KC shook her head, smiling as she took a sip of her coffee.

“One thing we all know is that he’s not impartial to his Rising Star,” said Andre. “But to answer your question, no, I haven’t. She doesn’t seem at all that keen to play Quidditch.”

“Not that I have anything against Alice Beaumont,” started saying KC as she placed her cup down, “but why do you want her to join the team? I mean, maybe there’s someone better suited than her to play? Why not do tryouts?”

“We have less than two weeks to find a replacement and train them. Tryouts require time, which we don’t have. McNully said she has potential, and that’s good enough for me.”

“Wait, how can you know she has potential?” asked KC.

“She threw a shoe at Merula Snyde’s head and hit her target dead center,” explained McNully. “But I also said that she would need to get months of training to attain her full potential.”

“Can’t believe I missed that shoe hitting Snyde,” said KC, glancing toward the Slytherin table.

“Look, McNully, we would need months to train anyone. Our reserve players are not chasers—” started saying Andre.

“That’s an understatement. They’re crap at it,” chipped in KC.

“Yes, well, as I was saying, they’re not chasers. Holding tryouts also means we’re going to get a player that would need more training, all while not having the time since preparing a tryout—”

“Takes time, we know,” interrupted McNully. 

“Precisely. I know Alice; she has potential—”

“But she needs convincing,” said Penny as she sat down next to Andre.

“Exactly. Wait, how did you know?” 

“You think I wouldn’t know about you bursting inside the girls’ dorm at 5 in the morning?”

“Wait, you went inside the girls’ dorm at 5?! How would that convince anyone to join our team?” exclaimed KC, trying her best not to choke on her gulp of coffee.

“Well, if she had said yes, we could have started her training right then and there.” 

“You’ve never trained that early,” noted McNully.

“Yes, well, you said it yourself; she needs all the training she can get to be ready for the match.” 

“Yes, well, if I were you, I wouldn’t try that again. I’ve heard our favourite Prefect and Ravenclaw’s prankster-in-chief planning some sort of device to punish whoever would dare disturb their slumber. Knowing Tulip, it will involve dungbombs,” said Penny. 

Andre looked down the Ravenclaw table. He noticed Alice and Tulip in great conversation. “Well, looks like I’ll have to employ a new strategy,” he said with a shudder.

As she placed her things on one of the tables in the Charms classroom, Alice heard someone whisper her name behind her. She turned around to see Andre leaning dangerously over the table of the elevated section of the room, his knees on the bench. 

She stared at him for a moment. “No,” she said, turning back to her things.

“But I haven’t asked you anything yet,” protested Andre.

“If it’s about the same thing as this morning, my answer is still no.”

“But…” tried saying Andre, leaning a bit more forward.

“Mr. Egwu! Please sit properly before you hurt yourself. Class is about to begin,” said Flitwick, interrupting Andre’s second attempt at convincing Alice.

“Alice?” said Andre as he sat next to her in Astronomy.

“Nope,” said Alice, getting up and sitting in the only other available seat.

“What the hell, Beaumont?” said Merula as Alice sat next to her.

“Don’t ask.”

“Today, we will learn the Reducto Jinx,” said Rakepick to the class.

“Alice…” whispered Andre, turning around in his seat. 

Alice didn’t look up from her parchment. “If you say one more word, I will practice Reducto on your closet,” she said through gritted teeth.

Andre quickly turned back, staring blankly at Rakepick’s demonstration.

The following day, he sat once again in front of KC and McNully. 

“This has a feeling of déjà vu,” said KC, siping her coffee. 

“Still no luck?” enquired McNully.

“No. She’s been avoiding me to the point of preferring sitting next to Snyde. She even threatened to attack my closet,” said Andre with a sigh. 

“Hmm, looks like we might end up having to use someone on the reserve,” mused KC.

Andre rolled his sausage around his plate with his fork. “And wave goodbye to the cup.”

“Honestly, I’d rather Alice concentrate on freeing my sister from that portrait than help you get the cup,” said Penny as she sat next to him.

“Don’t you have a Hufflepuff table to sit at?” grumbled Andre.

“She does have a point. The cup does seem trivial compared to that poor kid stuck inside a portrait,” mused KC.

“A professor is on the case. Makes more sense for an adult to take care of it than a teenager. Statistically speaking, it’s quite surprising Beaumont has survived this long considering her knowledge of magic was basic when she started hunting for those vaults,” pointed out McNully.

Penny let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I know it’s technically better for a professor to take care of such matters, but Alice is so used to those Vaults….”

“But maybe if she thought of something other than those vaults, it would give her a new perspective on the case?” tried suggesting Andre.

“You sound like her when she was trying to convince me to head the Celestial Ball’s decorating committee.”

Andre perked up. “It worked. So, will you help me out with her?”

Penny looked at Andre for a moment. “Well, as I said, I’d much rather she concentrated on my sister’s predicament,” she started, making Andre lower his head. “But, I see what you mean. If she just concentrates on that, she might get tunnel vision. Not to mention spending time away from Rakepick might do her some good. So, I won’t stand in your way either. If she asks for my advice, I’ll just repeat what I just told you.”

Andre gave her a big hug. “Thank you! I’ll be sure to thank you in my speech when we win the cup!”

“Don’t be so sure you’ll win that cup. Hufflepuff is quite a team to be reckoned with,” said Penny as Andre released her. 

“A team we’ve already beaten,” said KC from behind her coffee cup.

“The season is not over,” said Penny with a grin as she resumed eating her breakfast.

Andre thought it best not to pester Alice during Potions. He tried tracking her down during their free period after lunchtime but couldn’t find her. He tried the Courtyard and the Library, but she was nowhere in sight. As he looked around the castle, he bumped into Charlie Weasley.

“Oi, watch where you're going,” exclaimed the Gryffindor captain. “Oh, it’s you, Andre.”

“You seem to be in a foul mood,” noticed Andre.

Charlie exhaled deeply. “It’s nothing, just Percy getting on my nerve about his stupid rat.”

“I see… Do you know where Alice is?”

“Training with Diego on the Training grounds, why?”

“I was looking for her—”

“To ask her to join your Quidditch team once again?”

“How did you—?”

“I think everyone knows by now.”

“This school is like a small village! Everyone knows everyone’s business,” exclaimed Andre. “Anyway, thanks for telling me, mate.”

As Andre started to walk away, Charlie grabbed his shoulder. “I wouldn’t go there if I were you. Do you want to get on her nerves while she’s practicing duelling spells?”

Andre stopped in his tracks. “You might be right. She threatened to destroy my closet yesterday.” 

“Anyway, why do you want her to join your team? Don’t you have players on the reserve team?”

“Yeah, but none with her aim.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“She threw a shoe at Merula, and it landed straight at the back of her head. It was glorious!”

“Was she on a broom when she did that?”

“No, but I’ve seen her on a broom during flying class, and she’s good enough. Anyway, I guess I’ll go finish my Charms homework,” said Andre, briskly walking away.

As Charlie watched him disappear around a corner, he couldn’t help but shake his head. Alice might be fine on a broom… As long as she was holding it with both hands, looking straight ahead.

Unbeknownst to Andre, his prayers were about to be answered.

The next day, after their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Alice stayed behind, needing to talk to her professor.

“Professor Rakepick?” said Alice as she approached her.

“Yes, Miss Beaumont?” asked Rakepick, surprised to see the young Ravenclaw still in her classroom. “Have you found the vault portrait?”

“Hum, no, not yet—”

“Miss Beaumont, time is of the essence. I suggest you concentrate on finding that portrait instead of wasting your time standing around here.”

“I did find something interesting, though: a note saying how you worked with my brother in uncovering the vaults all along.”

“What?” Rakepick frowned before smirking again. “Miss Beaumont, don’t tell me you believe such blatant lies.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Can’t you see that note was planted to discredit me and make you waste your time? Clearly, R doesn’t want us to find that Portrait vault. As I’ve said before, I never met your brother, only heard of him as he was looking for the Vaults.”

“I feel like there’s more. I feel like you’re hiding something…” said Alice, narrowing her eyes.

“I said everything I had to say, Miss Beaumont. I suggest you leave now and let this matter rest. Otherwise, things could get messy,” said Rakepick, stepping toward Alice.

“Professor, I won’t leave until you tell me everything I want to know,” replied Alice, taking a step forward herself. 

“Very brave of you, Miss Beaumont, to challenge me. Yet very foolish… Ready your wand,” ordered Rakepick.

“What?” said Alice, taken aback. 

“As I will not answer any more of your questions and you refuse to leave until I do, a duel is the only option that remains.”

“Wait, here? Now?”

“Unless you prefer to lose somewhere else at another time.”

“Ugh, fine,” said Alice, taking out her wand and standing in a duelling stance. “Alright, I’m rea—”

Before she had time to finish her sentence, Rakepick flicked her wand in her direction, her spell hitting Alice’s wand.

“My wand! You broke my wand!” shouted Alice, looking at her broken wand on the floor.

“I warned you. It could be worse; I could have hexed you.”

“I’d rather you have hexed me! At least Madam Pomfrey could have fixed me! What am I supposed to do with a broken wand?” said Alice as she picked up the pieces of wood that used to be her wand.

Rakepick shrugged. “We’ll go and get you a new one.”

“That’s it? No apologies?”

“I needed to teach you a lesson, Miss Beaumont.”

“What lesson? That you can break wands with a spell?”

Rakepick brought her face only inches away from Alice’s. “No, Miss Beaumont. The lesson was that challenging me is never a good idea.”

Alice gulped, taking a step back. “Fine. Lesson learned. Now, how am I supposed to get a new wand?”

“Have you already forgotten about the Floo Network?”

“Won’t you have to explain to Dumbledore why you need to use his office,”

“The headmaster is not currently at Hogwarts,” said Rakepick as she left the classroom. “Follow me, Miss Beaumont.” 

“Is Dumbledore ever at Hogwarts?” mumbled Alice as she walked behind Rakepick.

As Andre left the Great Hall to head to History of Magic, he saw Alice and Rakepick coming down the Grand Staircase. 

“Now, Miss Beaumont, I think we should all meet tomorrow to think of a way to find that portrait,” said Rakepick.

Alice rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by her professor. Andre noticed that the wand she was holding seemed different than her own. Their eyes suddenly crossed. Alice smiled while Andre wondered why Alice suddenly looked so happy to see him. 

“I’m sorry, I won’t be able to join you, Professor,” said Alice, turning toward Rakepick.

“Why is that?” asked Rakepick, glaring at the young Ravenclaw.

“Haven’t you heard? I’ve recently joined Ravenclaw’s Quidditch team. My dear friend Andre was in such a pinch, I couldn’t say no, right, Andre?” said Alice, turning back toward her friend.

Andre looked between Alice and Rakepick. One looked like she was ready to hex him into oblivion, while the other was smiling but with pleading eyes. 

“Right,” he finally said, “Alice is our new Chaser, and we need to start her training as soon as possible since our next match is in a bit more than a week.”

“Miss Beaumont, I do not think—” started saying Rakepick.

“Merlin!” exclaimed Alice, looking at her watchless wrist. “Have you seen what time it is? Why, we’d better go if we don’t want to miss Professor Binn’s riveting lecture on the Giant Wars.” She quickly grabbed Andre’s arm and swiftly walked away from the woman who had destroyed her wand.

Andre had no idea what had changed Alice’s mind, but whatever it was, he was thanking Merlin for it. Alice, on the other hand, felt a pang of regret. Quidditch would prove to be quite a challenge for the young Curse-Breaker.

A/N #2: I hope you enjoyed the second installment of my Quidditch series. I'm already hard at work on part 3, but I still need to plan out this series a bit more.

[ardent-musings]

I cant draw very well but I wanted to give a go at digitally illustrating two of my friend’s OC’s. So here’s Gwenllian Dora McNully and Amari Filius McNully! :)

@kc-needs-coffee (hopefully this will get my creative juices flowing)

[lifeofkaze]

Get the Shakes, Hit the Brakes

A/N: I know the Rockstars are going their own, original way now, but that doesn't mean I can't share the odd (fandom) Rockstar short with you, does it? No, that's what I thought. As always, Katriona Cassiopeia belongs to my darling @kc-and-co.

I've put my foot in my mouth

It erases all doubt

I get the shakes, hit the brakes

'Cause you know I'm freaking out

~ Danko Jones - Ship of Lies ~

The new year had brought both a flurry from the North and Equinox back to New York City. While Lizzie was sorry to leave behind the sunny hills of California, where she had spent their Christmas break visiting her brother with Orion,  the city that never slept was a welcome change for her. After all, she wasn’t sleeping much either. 

It had all started innocently, with a phone call from their management shortly after they had landed in LA. Their label had signed a new singer, a young woman with great prospects, who could do with a little of Equinox’s reflected glory; if Orion could imagine writing a song for her?

Turned out, Orion very much could. 

He and the singer in question - a very pretty girl with flaming red hair and an Irish accent - had had an extensive Zoom call on the same evening, and Orion had delved into the challenge headfirst straight after. Usually, Lizzie left him alone when inspiration struck, but when he continued working all through the Christmas weekend, she couldn’t help the edge of annoyance creeping up on her.

On the plane from LAX to JFK, Orion didn’t have any more words than necessary for Lizzie to spare. He was glued to his notebook, absentmindedly tapping his pencil against his lips, the headphones with the demo loops he had recorded like a physical barrier between them. Defeated, Lizzie left him to his devices, leaning back in her seat to try and catch some sleep. She could hear the faintest wisps of music when Orion turned up the volume of his phone and felt the heaviness of sleep vanishing again as it had done for the past couple of days. Glumly, she sunk deeper into her seat and turned her head, watching the clouds fly by outside the window. 

Her mood didn’t increase until it was time to land. Orion was oblivious to her silence, still engrossed in what he’d written on the plane, but their friends Murphy and Katriona, who had come to pick them up, exchanged alarmed glances.

“What’s the matter?” Katriona asked her quietly. “Do you need me to hug you, or hit him?”

“Neither,” Lizzie replied, “only that.” 

She took the steaming cup of coffee Katriona had brought for her, flicked her sunglasses onto her nose, and followed Orion past the photographers waiting outside with her head kept down. There was no use in complaining; they were here for work, after all.

***

Lizzie had hoped being reunited with the other members of Equinox would help take her mind off Orion’s detachment, but the distraction she had hoped for wouldn’t come. What came instead, was a visitor.

She came into the studio with Orion, who had been out since early in the morning. The cold wind had brought a healthy flush to her cheeks, her long red hair beneath a maroon woolly hat covered with specks of stray snowflakes. In her hand she carried a steaming mug of coffee; the other was resting on Orion’s arm. 

He introduced Morgaine Yarwood to them with a warm smile that made Lizzie want to roll her eyes, an urge she almost gave in to when Orion invited her to stay for their rehearsals. Morgaine sat on the sidelines listening, and even though she stayed silent, Lizzie found herself thoroughly thrown off by her presence. 

Morgaine joining their rehearsals quickly turned into a habit. She was there every day, coming in with Orion after having worked with him on her new song for a couple of hours. Apparently, it was a duet now. Lizzie still hadn’t heard anything of it except for a few lines she had caught here and there, but soon her curiosity gave way to irritation at Orion’s lack of focus. She wished they would just record the bloody thing and be done with it, but that feeling changed when the two of them actually hit the studio.

Orion had invited Lizzie and the others to their final takes. Lizzie was more apprehensive than she had expected, keeping to the back of the control room as Orion and Morgaine took their spots behind the microphones. 

Talk ceased as the first notes filled the air and they began to sing. Two strands of opposing melodies weaved an intricate web of sound, which was impossible not to get caught in. Her voice was sweet and clear, perfectly complemented by Orion’s darker, husky vocals. The pace of the ballad picked up while they sang about how they inspired by each other, two halves of the same thing creating something infinitely bigger than them. Lizzie inadvertently tapped her foot to the compelling rhythm; when she noticed, she made herself stop. 

The song reached its climax, and suddenly, Lizzie found the air in the studio room too stuffy to breathe. She pushed between her mesmerised friends, trying not to slam the door on her way out. There was something not unlike anger bubbling under her skin, a nagging feeling of doubt, disappointment, and deep frustration.

The feeling lingered even after Lizzie had returned to her hotel room. She changed into her workout clothes, hoping the hotel gym would help settle her thoughts, when with a soft beep the hotel door was unlocked. Orion stood in the door, his features a mixture of worry and wariness.

“Liz?” he said carefully. “Are you alright? The others said you left all of a sudden.”

Lizzie was about to reply when a shock of red hair appeared next to him.

“It’s such a shame you left,” Morgaine said with a warm smile. “I really hoped to hear your opinion on our song.”

“Our song, is it now?” Lizzie snapped, not at her but at Orion, who shrugged slightly.

“It’s as much Morgaine’s work as it is mine. We wrote it together.”

“Sure.”

Orion sighed. “You don’t understand –”

“Apparently, I don’t,” Lizzie hissed. “Sorry, I’m not a songwriter. Sorry, I’m only your stupid little girlfriend keeping you from living your best life!”

Orion looked as if she’d lost her mind. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This bloody song is all you’ve been thinking about for weeks. Don’t you see it? You forgot all about what actually matters!”

Orion’s eyes hardened. “No matter who I write for, every piece of music is a part of me.” When Lizzie scoffed he added, more sharply, “What’s your problem? Both of us had side projects before. You and David are planning a cover project as we speak.”

“That’s different.”

“I fail to see how.”

“David is part of the band. He’s our friend, and he has a girlfriend.”

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“Fuck this,” Lizzie shook her head. “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

Snatching up her running shoes, she shouldered between Orion and Morgaine and started down the hallway, half wishing Orion would call after her. He didn’t. Brushing aside her fury, Lizzie pulled her ponytail tighter, jumped down the steps and left the hotel.

She didn’t pay attention to where she ran. New York City flew past her, a blur of concrete, faces, and flashing lights. Her anger drove her on, making her heart beat even faster than her steps. Stopping for breath near a small bodega, a colourful display of tabloid papers caught her eye, the one Lizzie picked up leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. 

She stared at the picture of Orion and Morgaine on the cover, which must have been taken on the day Orion had taken her to band rehearsals for the first time. She was wearing the same woolly hat she had back then and - Lizzie gritted her teeth at the sight - had her arm looped through Orion’s as they walked the snowy streets of New York City. A smaller picture of Orion and Lizzie herself had been put next to it, showing them on the day of their arrival in New York. They both wore sunglasses, Orion walking several feet ahead of her with his headphones on, Lizzie following behind with her lips pressed together.

Putting the magazine down, Lizzie sharply turned and picked up her pace again. She ran until the skies turned dark and the colourful neon lights took over. The temperatures dropped considerably, and Lizzie wished she hadn’t forgotten her phone in her hurry to leave; as it was, she had no way of telling anyone where she was, even if she had known herself. She was weighing her options on what to do when the sound of a guitar reached her ear. Curious, Lizzie followed it.

A little further down the road, a lone street musician was still braving the cold. He was clad in a shabby coat, the case of his guitar set at his feet. He gave Lizzie a fleeting smile as she approached, immediately soaked up in his music again.

The cold and her aching legs forgotten, Lizzie stopped to listen. He was good - very good - but it wasn’t so much his music that had her staring. It was a different young man she saw before her inner eye, a little older, with dark hair that just about reached his shoulders, playing his songs by the side of a small canal in Manchester. Lizzie swallowed. How long ago that felt.

The next song began, breaking her from her thoughts. Goosebumps covered the backs of Lizzie’s arms as the first notes of Dreamcatcher Girl drifted through the air. She thought of the first time she had heard it in its entirety - at Glastonbury Festival, in front of thousands of people, but meant for her alone - and hugged herself a little tighter. 

When the crowd dissolved, Lizzie lingered, pondering on what to do. She didn’t have a penny on her, but she didn’t want to leave the young man just like that either, so instead, she approached him with a friendly smile. There was mild curiosity on his face at first, but when he took a closer look, his eyes widened.

“Holy shit, aren’t you…?”

“I’m Lizzie, hi,” Lizzie said. “You were amazing. How long have you been at it?”

He swallowed visibly. “Two years now. Out here every day.”

“Keep going,” Lizzie smiled, “you’ll never know what comes off it.” 

She turned to leave when he suddenly blurted out, “Would you take a picture with me? I’m such a fan.”

“Of course.” Lizzie stood next to him and smiled broadly as he snapped a selfie. “Tag me when you upload it. I’ll give you a shoutout.” 

“That’s awesome, thank you!”

Lizzie shook her head. “No, thank you.” 

It took her a while to find her way back to the hotel, and by the time she reached the outside of her and Orion’s room, she was shaking from the cold and exhaustion. There was music drifting out into the hallway, which Lizzie recognised as the song she couldn’t bear to hear until the end earlier in the day. This time, she took the time to listen. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the doorframe as she did so, picking out all the little details that made Orion’s songs so special. There was so much of him in it, so many things she had come to love so dearly. The thought made her sad. Even now - upset, shaking, and with more than a door separating them - his music was so beautiful that it made the tears rise to her eyes. 

Bracing her shoulders, Lizzie knocked on the door. The music stopped abruptly, Orion appearing in the doorway a moment later. 

“You’re back,” he said superfluously. “Where have you been?”

Lizzie shrugged, slipping past him into the room. She said nothing as Orion sat on the bed and took up his guitar again, his fingers absentmindedly picking the strings.

“Have you calmed down?” he asked eventually. 

Again, Lizzie shrugged. “I think so.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” Orion put away his guitar. “What you said about Morgaine earlier –“

“– was uncalled for, and I’m sorry,” Lizzie cut him off. “Being surrounded by so much genius can be a little overwhelming sometimes.”

“The sun doesn’t shine less bright for another star burning in the distance,” Orion replied softly. “You have no reason for doubt.”

“Don’t I?” Lizzie said, not able to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Your song suggests otherwise.”

Orion tilted his head. “What do you think the song is about?”

“About finding someone just like you. About belonging somewhere, with someone who understands you. Completes you.��� More quietly, she added, “I had just hoped that someone would be me.”

Orion sighed, getting up and taking Lizzie’s icy hands. “When you and I look at each other on stage - how does that make you feel?”

“I don’t know. Happy, I guess?” 

“Your answer skims the surface of waters that run so much deeper. Try again.”

“Loved?” Lizzie frowned. “No. Seen.”

Orion nodded. “I bare my heart and soul with my music, but never all of it. Not to the world, at least. You get to see all of me.” His lips twitched. “The good, the bad, and the ugly.” 

“There isn’t anything ugly.” 

“Yes, there is, but my music turns it into something beautiful. You understand this because you understand me. Little drummer girl,” he smiled, running his thumb over her cheek, “I may have written the song with Morgaine, but how could you ever doubt that I was writing it for you?”

Lizzie cast down her eyes. “I’m sorry for being so silly.”

“You weren’t silly.”

“Wasn’t I?”

“Maybe a little,” Orion laughed softly, kissing her. “Go and take a shower now and put on something warm. The song is recorded and in the mixing. Time to pay attention to what really matters.”

“What, the band?”

Orion’s laugh was warm as he pulled her closer.

“You and me.” 

[carewyncromwell]

[Andre] beamed as KC and Erika entered the hall, both wearing the costumes Andre had designed for them. Erika wore a gray fur-trimmed gown, a wolf mask, and a silver ceremonial sword on her hip, while KC looked radiant in black-speckled white brocade, a capelet that resembled a pair of white wings, and an owl mask.

Orion and Skye both couldn’t keep the broad grins off their faces seeing McNully flush as red as a tomato, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates upon KC. Florence’s new ambassador cleared his throat loudly. 

“…Good evening, KC,” he greeted her, rolling his chair over.

“Hello, Murphy,” said KC with a shy smile.

Erika and Andre couldn’t help but smirk smugly too, seeing how rosy and happy KC’s face looked. McNully reached out a hand to take hers – once she’d given him her hand, he kissed it politely.

“May I…escort you inside?” he asked uncomfortably. “I realize I can’t hold your arm properly, since I’ll need to steer my chair, but – ”

“Yes,” said KC, almost too quickly. Catching herself, she said a bit more levelly, “…I’d like that.”

~HPHM/Cinderella AU, Part 18: Saving Orion

At last, we have ourselves a bonus piece of art I didn’t have ready for my original posting of this part of the Cinderella AU, but finally got around to finishing as a gift for my dear @kc-needs-coffee! Because hey, McNully needs more love, and masquerades are fun. 💙💚

Firstly, here’s the inspirations for KC’s and McNully’s masks...as well as for KC’s capelet and McNully’s tunic. As mentioned in the section itself, KC is dressed as an owl (snowy, to be specific), which is symbolic of wisdom (one of canon!KC’s house values, since she’s a Ravenclaw), while McNully is an octopus, symbolic of intelligence, unpredictability, and flexibility. I also must confess to taking some inspiration for the placement of these two’s hands and overall juxtaposition...thanks, Titanic! XD

Hope you like it, KC sweetie! 🤗 xoxo