#the Hexley Legacy

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 37

A/N: Héloïse’s evening goes from bad to… well, I’ll let you find out.

Warnings: mild angst, hurt comfort, fluff, angry French.

May 1897

The sound of Héloïse’s footsteps on the marble floor echoed around the entrance hall as she strode through it at a pace that was not quite a run. As she turned the corner and reached the grand staircase, she stopped and sat on one of the steps, the heels of her hands pressed against her forehead.

She had always considered herself to be a rational person, one who did not allow her emotions to cloud her usually sound judgement. She could only think of one time she had allowed them to do so, and that had been the previous year, after her father had passed away, and that had been what had led to her having to come here in the first place. She would not allow herself to make that mistake again.

And yet, though reason told her that she had many friends still at the ball with whom she could enjoy the rest of the evening, she found herself unable to pick herself up off the staircase and return. Reason would dictate that one person in a room filled with hundreds should not be so very important to her, and yet it was. He was. For whatever reason, reason was now failing her, and her emotions were ruling in her heart and her head, both of which had tightened and begun to ache. A drop of clear liquid fell onto the material of her robes, and she realised that she had started to cry.

“Héloïse?”

A voice. Jim’s voice. Héloïse looked up, and saw that Jim Hexley was walking towards her.

“Héloïse, are you… You’re crying.”

Héloïse said nothing, but she rolled her eyes at the idiocy of Jim’s comment and rose to her feet. Having spent all evening wishing that he would come over and talk to her, she no longer wanted to speak with him at all. She turned and walked up the staircase away from him, but he followed her, asking questions to the back of her head.

“Are you alright? What is the matter? Why are you so upset?”

Already annoyed, Héloïse turned and snapped at him, “Casse-toi!”

Jim blinked, clearly confused. Héloïse exhaled and recommenced climbing the staircase, only to be stopped in her tracks on the top step by Jim taking hold of her wrist. She wrenched it free from his grip.

“Je t’ai dit de dégager, hein?”

“Er, I don’t… I’m not sure what that means,” said Jim, frowning deeply. “I just… Will you not tell me - in English, preferably - what is wrong?”

Héloïse glared at him. “You. You are wrong.”

“About what?”

“Everything. And nothing, also,” she told him. He still looked confused. “I wish for you to go.”

“I don’t want to leave you when you’re upset.”

“In this case I will to go. Good night, Jim.”

“Héloïse, wait!”

But Héloïse had heard enough. She took another step, and as she did, the staircase began to move away from the landing at the top. This time, when Jim reached for her arm, she did not move away, but instead allowed him to pull her back from what was now a sheer drop from the top of the staircase all the way down to the marble floor below. The pair of them stumbled, and crashed into the bannister at their side, which Héloïse held onto with her free hand as the staircase swung across the hall to meet a new landing. She was now facing the opposite direction to where she wanted to go, but she did not move in any direction; instead she remained with her hand on the bannister, and took one deep shaky breath. Jim’s hand on her arm was also trembling.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her.

“Physically, no.” Héloïse pursed her lips for a moment before adding, “Thank you.”

“You’re… De rien.”

Héloïse nodded curtly before looking at where the staircases now led, trying to work out the quickest route she could now take back to Ravenclaw tower. She could almost feel Jim watching her do so.

“Héloïse, please,” he said quietly. “Tell me what… I know that you are upset with me, and I… Well, I’d like to know what it is that I’ve done. Whatever it is, I am truly sorry.”

Héloïse shook her head. “You did not do anything.”

“Then why-”

“I was thinking that we are friends.”

“We are.”

“But you did not do anything, all evening. You did not speak to me, you did not dance with me, I do not think that you looked at me.”

“Oh,” Jim grimaced. “No. I suppose that… Yes, you’re right. I am sorry. I did not think that it would cause you so much distress.”

“Why would you to think this?”

“Well, my sister said that… She said that I should do it. To vex you.”

Héloïse’s nostrils flared. “So, you were wanting to upset me.”

“No, no. I did not… It was not my intention to make you upset. I only… Er, never mind. It was a ludicrous idea.”

“I agree,” Héloïse said, still glaring. “Why is your sister wanting to vex me?”

“Because… She thought that it might make you… That you may regret your attending the ball with Henry and not me.”

“I am regretting my attending at all.”

“I can see that. I am sorry. I should not have ignored you. I should not have listened to Effy. It was just that… Well, I was upset that you did not agree to attend the ball with me.”

“This is not my fault. You were not asking me until after I said I would to go with Henry. If you wanted for me to go with you, then you should have asked sooner, no?”

“Yes. Perhaps that would have been better.”

“So?” Héloïse asked. “Why did you not ask before?”

“Because… Well, I… I do not know.” Jim closed his eyes. He looked as if he were in pain. “I have ruined everything.”

“Yes,” said Héloïse. “You have.”

They were both quiet for a few moments. Eventually, Jim seemed to realise that his hand still rested on her forearm. He removed it and cleared his throat.

“Well,” he said, “I think that I… It would probably be best if I return to my common room. I have spoiled enough of your evening. At least this way you can enjoy the rest of the ball.”

“I can to try.”

Jim inclined his head and walked down the stairs. He only made it a few steps before he stopped and turned back.

“Héloïse?”

“Jim?”

“I… If I had asked you sooner, would you have wanted to attend the ball with me?”

“Yes,” Héloïse told him. “I was wanting to go with you before you asked.”

Jim frowned. “So, why did you agree to go with Henry?”

“I was tired of waiting for you to ask.”

“Ah,” said Jim. “If I had known that I would have asked sooner.”

“Why did you not ask sooner?”

“I… Now I am not certain. I was worried that you might say no, or… or laugh at me, or think it impossible that you might…”

Héloïse stepped closer to him, her eyebrows furrowing deeply.

“That I might…”

“That you could ever think of me as anything other than a friend. That you may wish to be courted by… a buffoon.”

“I do not think that you are a buffoon.”

“You do not?”

“No.” Héloïse took another step. Her lips twitched slightly. “Although, tonight you are behaving like a buffoon.”

Jim laughed. “I do believe that you are right. I am sorry.”

“You have said this many times.”

“I mean it.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?” Jim asked,and Héloïse nodded. She was standing on the step above his now, with the extra height it gave her, she found that her eyes were level with his lips, which had started to curve. “I am… That is a relief. I thought that tonight… I had hoped it would go differently to this. And I know that you did as well. I am sorry.”

Héloïse laughed. “You can to stop saying this now.”

“I know. I will stop. I’m sorry.”

“You said it again.”

“I did. Sorry.”

“Stop!”

“Sorry, I…”

Before Jim could continue to apologise yet again, Héloïse rose onto the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his. She lifted both her hands so that they came to rest against the sides of his face, a rosy warmth growing under her fingers as she kissed him. When she removed her hands from his cheeks, she saw that they had flushed pink, and his lips remained parted as she withdrew her own. He blinked wordlessly, and she smirked.

“Et alors, il arrête,” she murmured. She had spoken to herself, and Jim said nothing in response. It appeared that he was unable to say anything at all. Héloïse tilted her head to one side. “Jim?” She took one of his hands in her own and squeezed it gently. “Jim.”

“Héloïse,” Jim replied, his voice barely more than a whisper as he looked down at their linked hands. As he raised his eyes to meet hers, he smiled. It was small, but so genuine that it appeared almost blissful. Héloïse leaned towards him, and he tensed. “We are unchaperoned.”

“This is probably for the best, no?”

Jim let out a gentle laugh that softened him. As their lips meet once more, his fingers intertwined with Héloïse’s, the tips of them running over her knuckles. She had not noticed how soft his hands were before, nor how tall he was, nor-

“Ahem.”

The sound of a throat being cleared cut into the moment, and Héloïse and Jim sprung apart as if burned. They both looked around to see who had caught them. Héloïse frowned. No one was there.

Confused, she looked to Jim, but his eyes were fixed on a point on the wall of the grand staircase, his face redder than she had ever seen it before. Following the line of his gaze, she quickly understood the reason for his embarrassment, and felt the blood start to rise in her own cheeks.

On the wall facing the staircase, several gold frames had become filled with the portraits of more than a dozen witches and wizards, three leprechauns, and one single ring-tailed lemur. Every single one of the portraits had their eyes on her and Jim, their faces displaying several different expressions, from nostalgic affection to stern disapproval to outright disgust. One of the portraits tutted loudly.

“Young people these days. Absolutely no sense of decorum.”

Héloïse turned to Jim. “What is decorum?”

“By Jove, she doesn’t even know the meaning of the word.” The portrait sighed. “I despair for future generations.”

“Perhaps we should to go back to the Great Hall,” Héloïse said to Jim. “I would very much like to dance with you tonight, if you are still wishing to attend the Ball with me.”

Jim took his eyes away from the wall of still muttering portraits and nodded.

“Héloïse,” he said, taking her by the hand, “I wish for nothing else.”

Together, they descended the rest of the steps and walked back to the Great Hall, where the music was still playing and the ceiling bright with a million stars that tonight seemed to shine just for them.

[lifeofkaze]

Flight or Fancy

A/N: This story was written for the April prompt of the @hp-12monthsofmagic challenge. Ethel Hexley and Madam Khanna (in mention) belong to @the-al-chemist, Lysander Mercury to @slytherindisaster, Ema McGilliguddy (in mention) and Professor MacMillan to @kc-and-co

It had all started very harmlessly, really. 

Like most of their peers, Selene and Ethel had spent their afternoon in the library, preparing for their end-of-year exams. They had worked hard on their studies, so that after several hours of revising Transfiguration laws, incantations, and Potion recipes, Ethel had suggested they take the well-deserved break they were obviously due.

To give their plagued minds some respite, the two aspiring young witches had found their way to the poetry section of the library and were soon immersed in their favourite works. Their vigour renewed, they carried their pickings back to their table, reciting poignant passages back to one another as they went. 

Ethel was of the strong opinion that poetry wasn’t something to be merely read - it was something to be experienced. So when a particularly riveting stanza gripped her, she and Selene climbed upon the long table running between the bookshelves, marching back and forth with books in hand and calling their partly bewildered, partly resigned-looking fellow students to rise in the fight against oppression and tyranny. 

Madam Khanna, the librarian, evidently didn’t share their enthusiasm.

Some angry remarks, an outraged discussion, and two temporary library bans later, Ethel and Selene had found themselves equipped with weekly detention until the end of term, which was exactly where the two of them were currently spending their time.

With the impending exams, the temper in the student body had run high lately, so the classroom where detention was held was fuller than usual. Sighing, Ethel looked gloomily at the half-filled parchment in front of her.

‘I shalt not recite poetry whilst marching upon furniture. I shalt not call my peers to revolution. I shalt not call any member of the staff an operative of an oppressive system,’ stood there in neat lines, just as it did on the stack of parchment next to her. Ethel snorted to herself. As if she had done anything condemnable. What harm had she done, even? Wasn’t it the point of school to equip themselves with the means to scrutinise established truths? They really should make up their minds about this and not let her suffer the effects of their inconsistencies.

Looking up, she caught the eye of Selene, who had been several tables away from Ethel. They had shared a seat in the beginning, like they were wont to do, but Professor Ronen, the Charms teacher overseeing their detention, had soon put a stop to that and created as much space between the two friends as the room would allow; another thing Ethel thought simply outrageous.

The busy scratching of quills on parchment was broken when the door to the classroom swung open, and Professor Hecat, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, poked her head inside. Professor Ronen immediately rose from his seat to meet her. A few subdued words were passed between them, then Ronen turned and pointed at Selene and a girl with light brown hair, big eyes, and emerald green robes.

“Misses Fraser and McGilliguddy, you are to help Professor Hecat prepare her lessons. You are dismissed.”

Giving Ethel an apologetic look, Selene gathered up her things and followed Ema McGilliguddy and Professor Hecat from the room. Ethel watched after them with dismay. She and Selene had wanted to head for the Quidditch pitch for some broom racing after detention, but helping the old witch would take forever. 

Her plans for the rest of the day thwarted for good, Ethel quietly huffed, dipping her quill into her inkwell with more force than strictly necessary. Everything about this was so entirely unfair.

“Hexley.”

Ethel stiffened. Just what she needed right now.

“Hexley.”

Ethel gritted her teeth, stubbornly adding another line to her steadily filling page. 

“Hey, Hexley!”

“I can’t hear you, Lysander,” she muttered, the slight lilt to her voice doing nothing to mask her annoyance. 

“With those ears of yours? Improbable.”

“What do you want?” Ethel growled, turning sharply in her seat to glower at the grinning boy behind her. Before Lysander Mercury could reply, however, the sound of Professor Ronen clearing his throat echoed through the classroom. 

“Does there seem to be a problem, Miss Hexley?”

“No, Professor,” Ethel said, glaring at Lysander one last time before turning in her seat again. “Everything’s in perfect order.” 

Giving her a warning look, Professor Ronen turned back to his exam papers. 

“As subtle as an Erumpent in a china shop,” Lysander’s amused snicker reached Ethel’s ear a moment later. “And about as elegant.”

“And about as effective at crushing you. Care to let me try?”

“You’d have to catch me first. They do say I’m quite swift.”

“What the mind lacks…”

“Enough to beat you on the pitch, though.”

“Sure, by cheating.”

“Not what the referee said.”

“Oh, go stick a quill up your nose.”

“How witty.”

“I’m done having this conversation,” Ethel declared, making to turn back around. She stopped when Lysander leaned across his table toward her.

“You don’t want to know my secret, then?”

“Is it about how to grow yourself a brain?”

“Why, are you in need of one?”

Ethel rolled her eyes. “Just tell me already and let me enjoy my detention in peace.”

Smirking, Lysander leaned back in his seat.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to tell you anymore.”

Ethel opened her mouth in outrage. “You cannot be serious.”

“I can assure you that I am.”

“Then I, in turn, can assure you that I do not care,” Ethel answered stuffily, returning her attention to her parchment. She paused, turning back to Lysander a moment later.

“You know it’s incredibly impolite to vex me so.”

“So you do care.” 

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“Yes, it absolutely is.”

Lysander’s grin was wiped off his face when Ethel drew her wand and pointed it at his inkwell. It rose above the drawing Lysander had been working on instead of doing lines, slowly tipping to the side.

“You don’t want to do that, Hexley.”

“I most certainly do.” 

Ethel could see the cogs turning in Lysander’s probably rather dusty brain as he attempted to take her measure. Having come to a conclusion, he leaned in and conspiratorially whispered:

“Fine, I’ll tell you. I know how to get out of here.”

Ethel stared. “How?” 

Lysander looked like a Kneazle before a bowl of cream. “You’d like to know that, wouldn’t you?”

“Evidently. Your idiotic plans never fail to amuse me.”

“It’s not idiotic, it’s infallible.”

“Naturally.”

“So, do you want to know or not?”

Ethel felt like a headache was coming. “I do.” 

A self-contented sigh left Lysander’s lips. “What do I get for telling you?”

The inkwell floated a little higher. “Not this against your forehead.”

“Not a very appealing offer.”

“Because it wasn’t an offer. Tell me now, or leave me alone.”

“Very well.” His eyes - today of a distinct turquoise colour - sparkled as he leaned a little closer. “Do what you do best - watch me.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Lysander drew his wand and pointed it at the teacher’s desk. His lips moving in a silent incantation, the stacks of paperwork on Professor Ronen’s desk exploded up towards the ceiling, dancing in a vortex around him on their way down.

The classroom erupted in laughter, and even Ethel couldn’t help but bite back a chuckle at the sight of the red-cheeked professor trying to snatch his elusive exam papers from the air. When she turned in her seat to say something to Lysander, however, she found that he had disappeared.

Her brows drew together in a frown. It was just like Lysander to promise her a way out and then leave her behind without so much as a word. Much to her astonishment, there was a small but distinct sting of something that felt almost like disappointment.

Just as Professor Ronen had gathered his scrolls of parchment and righted his hat, the classroom door opened once more. This time, the red-haired head of Professor MacMillan, one of the Herbology teachers and head of Ravenclaw House, appeared in the doorway. 

“Abraham, I will need to abduct Miss Hexley,” the teacher smiled good-heartedly. “There appear to be some pests in Greenhouse Two. They are making the worst clamour with my pots. I need Miss Hexley’s excellent hearing abilities to identify their whereabouts.” 

Where Ethel had been astounded to hear Professor MacMillan request her assistance before, she now bit down on her lip hard. She stiffly rose from her seat, handed her parchment to Professor Ronen and stalked from the room.

“A pest problem, really?” she snorted as soon as the door had closed behind her.

Professor MacMillan, whose eyes had begun turning from greyish-blue to turquoise again, grinned. 

“It’s intense. I swear, their presence seems to have intensified this very second.” 

Ethel took a deep breath. “I will have you know that -”

She came no further because, from within the classroom, an angry cry could be heard.

“Hexley! Mercury!”

Lysander, whose once more fair hair still carried streaks of red, swallowed.

“Uh oh,” he said, laughing as he ducked his head. “Time to go, Hexley.”

Before Ethel could object, Lysander grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her behind him and away from the classroom door in which Professor Ronen had appeared. Ethel didn’t hear what he was calling after them anymore, her ears filled with the pounding of hers and Lysander’s steps on the ancient flagstone floor. 

It took them about the time they needed to round two corners before their flight turned into a race. Ethel and Lysander were almost of a height, and Ethel glanced at him only briefly as she sped up to overtake him. Lysander did the same, trying to push her to the side as they skirted around corners and almost jumped down steps and stairs in vast, uncontrolled strides.

Soon, both of them were breathing heavily, and by the time they reached a spiral staircase that led both down into the dungeons and up in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, parts of Ethel’s hair had come undone, and Lysander’s cheeks were flushed a vivid red.

“You… lost… Hexley,” he panted, supporting his weight on his legs with his hands. The way he smirked at her through the strands of hair that had fallen into his face made Ethel jut her chin forward, even though her sides were stinging so badly she could hardly stand.

“You know what… they say… Mercury,” she said between two gulps of aid. “The last… shall be… first.”

“At least that way… you’ll win at least… this once.”

Ethel pushed herself off the wall she had been resting against, smoothing down the skirt of her uniform and glaring at Lysander. They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them so much as blinking. Then, Lysander ran a hand over his tousled hair before holding it out to Ethel.

“Well, that was fun.”

Ethel looked at his outstretched hand with a mixture of wariness and disgust.

“It absolutely wasn’t.”

“Just say ‘thank you’. It’s not that hard.”

“For what?” said Ethel stubbornly. “For dragging me around the castle without my consent?”

Lysander narrowed his eyes. “You’re insufferable, Hexley.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Just so you’re aware - me helping you, that was a one-off.”

“It’d better was.”

Shrugging, Lysander turned to go. As he set foot onto the steps leading into the bowels of the castle, he looked over his shoulder.

“So, until next time?”

Rolling her eyes, Ethel turned in the opposite direction and stomped away. She was almost out of sight when she paused and looked back at Lysander, who stood exactly where she had left him.

“Until next time.”

[slytherindisaster]

web weaving: ethelys + rivals to lovers

twin size mattress by the front bottoms / true love by pink / the book of night women by marlon james / titanic (2017) / ao3 tags / little women (2017) / the cruel prince by holly black / red, white & royal blue by casey mcquiston / harry potter and the order of the phoenix

[usernoneexistent]

Autumn 1895: Ravenclaws and Gryffindors play a friendly game together while Glenn plots on how to distract the opposing team's keeper and his rival, Nolan.

Characters featured: Nolan Miller @hogwartsmysteryho, Oliver Gerard @kc-and-co, Ethel Hexley @the-al-chemist.

Characters mentioned: Selene Fraser @lifeofkaze, Lysander Mercury @slytherindisaster, Daniel Gibson @catohphm, Siobhan Llewelyn @kc-and-co.

Warnings: mentions of Sethel

"That was a foul!"

"Not again, Miller," cried his teammate. Ravenclaw looked like they were having a tough time with their reserve keeper. Glenn minded little, except for Nolan Miller's incompetence which was getting on his nerves. He wanted a nice clean, and fair game, which shouldn't be a hard ask. Especially since Hexley and Fraser made the least amount of trouble on the quidditch field.

As all the quidditch teams have completed their tryouts and added new members to make up for the lost ones, his friend and captain, Oliver Gerard, made a deal with Ravenclaw to share the pitch for a quidditch friendly due to an accidental mishandling of the reservations. It allowed the reserves to keep up with the practice.

"He wasn't haversaking Miller. Sorry guys, let's have a rematch." The Ravenclaw captain called with the quaffle under his arm, returning it back to the referee. He was getting all the different balls back in the box before re-releasing them.

Both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw team groaned out loud before flying back into their respective position.

"Augh! I wish Miller wouldn't spoil the game so much. He's worse than Lys and Hexley." Glenn groaned.

"Miller may be annoying but he is also their weakest link, Rosewood." Oliver flew beside him. "Besides you know how to get to him fumble better than anyone else."

"Well, he is only a reserve. It's not like he will affect the big matches."

"And so are you." Oliver retorted back, almost in a backhanded way. Glenn groaned at him before focusing back on the game.

"As much as I would love to give my sole attention on quidditch I have other duties to attend to."

"Ah yes, becoming the number one prefect that Gryffindor has ever seen. You're doing a great job at that." He teased.

"Be quiet, Gerard."

Oliver laughed before everyone was finally settled and ready to go. The referee opens the box of quaffle, bludgers and snitch, and the opposing team grabs the quaffle first.

Oliver and Glenn swerved to either side of the chaser, trying to hold her in. Hexley followed behind, blocking the other Ravenclaw chasers.

"Scatter!" Hexley yelled. Glenn took a quick glance to see why. A bludger was incoming at a rapid speed. There was no way that any beater could come in time to defend the chasers.

Glenn and Oliver abandoned the chaser. The bludger came at lightning speed before almost knocking the Ravenclaw chaser down. He dropped the quaffle just as Glenn had hoped.

Hexley was sharper and quickly swooped down to grab the quaffle before any of the Ravenclaw chasers had a chance. She shot straight towards the hoops, already crossing the midline of the pitch.

Glenn and Oliver followed quickly behind. Fraser and Daniel Gibson were in a chase below them for the snitch. Glenn was hoping they would stall a little more. It would be annoying to end the game so quickly without even putting in a score.

"Rosewood!" Hexley yelled as Glenn got close. He saw it too. Siobhan Llewelyn was ready to swing the bludger towards Hexley's broom with her stick, and he knew what she wanted to do. Oliver swooped in and blocked any other chasers interrupting her pass.

With a good throw, the quaffle landed heavily on his hand before almost dropping the ball. He groaned slightly in pain when he saw Hexley give a slight smirk. 

Nolan looked ready, prepared for Glenn to come. He swerved about, trying to cover all the hoops.

"I would take a heads up if I were you," Glenn warned, but Nolan smirked.

"I'm not falling for it this time, Rosewood." He shifted lower to block the bottom hoops.

Perfect.

Glenn made his arm look like it was going to throw down, but at the last second, he made an overarm throw at the tallest loop.

Nolan swiftly moved his broom up, but it was too late. The quaffle smoothly sailed through the hoop.

"That's ten points to Gryffindor." The commentator stated.

Glenn smirked broadly at Miller. The Ravenclaw pretended not to be shocked by Glenn's tactic and muttered excuses about why it wasn't his fault.

"Well done, Rosewood." Oliver complimented. "Figure you would be able to fool Miller."

"He's a fool." He said. "Which is a shame. If his incompetnece weren't in the way the game would be more interesting."

[that-scouse-wizard]

Harry Potter Hogwarts Legacy Appreciation Week Day 6: The Boys.

Part 6 of @endlessly-cursed‘s event. 

Of course I’ve got my own boys, Reuben and Cled but here’s my love for the other lads of HPHL

Galen Stagg (@cursebreakerfarrier) - An unconventional Gryffindor though no less brave, I love his soft side and I’ve always been a fan of characters with animal-related powers.

Henry Lovecraft (@lifeofkaze) - As a guy who loves stories and to an extent enjoys Lovecraftian/ Gothic horror, I loved the idea of Henry being a storyteller and someone who weaves stories together. Plus his bromance with Cledwyn is one of my favourite friendships in HPHL.

Bradford Pendleton (@kc-and-co) - I love this guy’s determination to break away from his family’s rigid expectations of him and falling in love with the sarcastic queen that is Carolyn Nyberg. 

Jim Hexley (@the-al-chemist) - Another sweet boy and I love his exasperation in response to Ethel’s antics.

Danny Gibson (@catohphm) - One of Reuben’s best mates and quidditch team members. I love this guy going through so much in his life yet still choosing to be a decent bloke, he’s awesome!

[hogwartsmysteryho]

Hot Chocolate with Cinnamon

an adaption of the side plot of this episode of H2O: Just Add Water because i thought it kind of fit with these kids. repeat, this is not an original plot line, it is 100% based off of that episode. Ethel belongs to the wonderful @the-al-chemist and Selene belongs to the extraordinary @lifeofkaze, both of whom are the best thing since ice cream (which is a much better invention than sliced bread). actually, i just did a quick google search and it turns out that ice cream is way older than sliced bread, but u get the point. anyways, i hope u enjoy this story and hopefully i got ur girls ok, but lmk if they’re a little off.

Two best friends emerged from the Quidditch changing room after an especially grueling day of practice. Ethel Hexley was massaging her arms after several passing and shooting drills, whilst Selene Fraser flexed her fingers, as if still practicing catching the Golden Snitch.

“Gryffindor shall be in top condition upon the beginning of our season,” Selene said to her friend.

“The other houses certainly have reason to worry,” Ethel agreed. “Especially when Gryffindor has the two of us rostered.”

The girls giggled together for a few seconds before they were approached by a boy with red robes and a smile stretching ear to ear. “Brilliant practice! I can hardly wait for Gryffindor to dominate the other teams this year!”

“Thank you, Vinny,” Ethel replied. “Did you watch the whole practice?”

“Of course! You know I always love to watch your practices when I can,” the boy, Vinny Raymond, said happily as the three began walking back towards the school together. “I don’t know very much about Quidditch strategy or training, but your practice definitely looked quite impressive.”

Vinny had barely gotten the sentence out before a tan Ravenclaw boy walking the opposite direction nearly ran him over.

“Walk much?” the Ravenclaw sneered as he plowed past the curly-haired boy.

Ethel and Selene both prepared to retort back at the Ravenclaw but Vinny was calling a “sorry, Nolan” over his shoulder before either had the chance.

Something caught Vinny’s attention in the distance and he hastily said to the girls, “My apologies, but I have to go right now. Great practice, both of you,” and scampered off. Knowing Vinny, he had probably spotted a butterfly or somebody’s pet cat and was now chasing after it.

“I simply cannot believe that he actually apologized for being rammed into,” Selene said, perplexed, after Vinny had departed.

Ethel shrugged at her friend. “It takes more than being trampled to make Vinny mad, I suppose.”

“I don’t think that anything can make Vinny mad,” Selene responded. “I haven’t seen him anything short of exceedingly happy once since our education at Hogwarts began.”

“Everyone gets mad sometimes,” Ethel reasoned. “I’m confident I could push his buttons enough to accomplish that deed.”

Selene snorted. “Even you couldn’t get a rise out of him.”

“Challenge accepted.”

***

It wasn’t long before the three Gryffindors sat together in the Great Hall. When Vinny was busy looking down at his copy of The Daily Prophet, Ethel winked at Selene and dropped her silverware on the ground next to him.

“Oh dear, clumsy me,” Ethel feigned. “Vinny, would you be a dear and pick my fork up for me?”

Vinny smiled and nodded before bending down to retrieve the fork. Meanwhile, Ethel grabbed an ice cube from her water and slipped it down the back of Vinny’s robes. Vinny immediately shot up in surprise, and his face began to grow red. Ethel smirked, satisfied. However, it was not anger that exploded from Vinny, but laughter. Selene immediately joined in, though she was amused more by Ethel’s failure than the prank itself. Eventually, Ethel had to laugh too. Her mission, however, was not forgotten.

***

Later that day, in the Gryffindor common room, Vinny was just finishing off his Potions essay, due as homework for class the next day. Ethel was sitting next to him, scheming.

“Vinny, dear,” Ethel said innocently. “Can I borrow your—whoops!”

Ethel slid her hand over and knocked the ink pot Vinny had been using over, spilling ink all over his essay.

“Oh dear,” said Ethel, dramatically. “Is it going to be okay?”

Vinny grinned up at her. “It’ll be fine,” he said as he tapped his wand on the parchment. Ink immediately started to clear up, making Vinny’s work readable once more. Vinny’s expression then changed from his usual excited-smile into a more reassuring-smile. “However, are you feeling okay? You’ve been a bit clumsier lately, are you perhaps overexerting yourself in Quidditch? I was reading an article in The Daily Prophet that said sometimes players’ nerves can get the best of them at the start of a new season.”

Ethel could hear the sound of poorly muffled laughter from an armchair containing one Selene Fraser. Ethel, however, would not give up so easily. “Actually, I have been feeling a little overwhelmed. I just have so much homework to do tomorrow, I’m not certain I’ll be able to do it all and wash my Quidditch robes before practice.”

“Well that’s it then!” Vinny beamed up at her. “I’ll wash your robes for you whilst you complete your homework.”

“Really?” said Ethel with mock surprise. “You would do that for me?”

“I sure would! I wonder how bad your robes will smell. I cannot wait to see!”

Of course he couldn’t wait.

***

“I cannot believe you’ve made him wash your Quidditch robes!” Selene said to Ethel as the two approached the training grounds.

Ethel bit her lip. “I need to kick my provocations up a level to get him mad.”

The girls had made it to Vinny, who was laying the freshly washed robes across a blanket (a Gryffindor blanket, of course). “Hello, Selene! Hello Ethel! I’ve just finished washing your robes, they ought to be dry before your practice.”

“Oh dear,” Ethel tutted, looking down at the washing tub Vinny had used. “Vinny, it seems you’ve completely botched the ratio of soap to water. There has to be at least another half part of soap in the mixture. You’ll have to redo it.”

“Alright, Ethel,” Selene interrupted. “This is going too far. It’s fine how it’s been washed now. It must’ve taken Vinny an hour to wash it.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Vinny said, his smile never wavering. “I’ll rewash it. I want to see if I can beat my time from last time!”

Selene sighed and Ethel gaped.

***

After another day of failed attempts, it was time for a Hogsmeade visit for the students of Hogwarts. Vinny and Selene grabbed a table at the Three Broomsticks while Ethel went to get some hot chocolates for the friends. It didn’t take too long for their drinks to be ready, and soon Ethel and Selene were happily sipping their delicious cocoa. Vinny, however, frowned at his mug.

“Ethel,” he started, his face growing angrier as he went on. “This, this has cinnamon in it! I-I… cinnamon? I hate cinnamon with hot chocolate! How many times have I- ugh! Go get a new one!”

Ethel was taken aback. “Vinny, are you okay?”

“Just- just get a new one right now!” Vinny was fuming now.

Ethel grabbed his mug and grinned at Selene. “Alright, Vinny, I’m sorry. No need to get so… mad.” She hurried away to get a new drink, a smug look on her face.

Vinny’s anger immediately melted back into his huge smile. “Was that alright?” he asked Selene eagerly.

“Perfect,” Selene replied. “I swear, she’s been driving me mad with her attempts. Thank you for acting for me.”

“I found it quite thrilling and fun actually!” Vinny paused for a moment, and then looked lopsided at Selene’s hot chocolate. “I suppose this means I can never have cinnamon with my hot chocolate ever again.”

Selene hesitated a moment, and then burst into laughter, Vinny soon echoing her.

“What?” Ethel said as she returned to the table, a new, cinnamon-less cocoa in her hand. “What’s so funny?”

“Just having a good time, with good friends,” Vinny said. And the three drank their hot chocolate, laughed, and had a good time.

i rly hope u liked it! i’m very sorry if i didn’t do ur girls justice, i just thought that the three of them might fit this plot line well, and i think they did! :)

[lifeofkaze]

Omg how who would l have thought Ethel could be so infuriatingly her precious self and so incredibly creepy at the same time?

As always, giving characters this eerie and slightly, bitter spin is something that’s so signature to you and this story. I doubt anybody else could do it like you.

The whole scene was deliciously scary but the best part?

“No one can hear you scream in a circus.”

Carnage Circus 🔥

Part 8/? - Let the games begin

Ethel Hexley belongs to the amazing @the-al-chemist. Akira in passing to the lovely @cursebreakerfarrier

Tag list: @lifeofkaze @kc-and-co @that-scouse-wizard @samshogwarts @hogwartsmysteryho

Weiterlesen

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 39

A/N: We are coming to the end of this journey, but before they go, each of the main characters has one last farewell chapter. First is Ethel, with my favourite chapter of this whole story. It’s dedicated to my beloved @lifeofkaze, with love.

Warnings: All the emotions. No, really. In an Ethel chapter. I know.

OCs featured/mentioned: Selene Fraser @lifeofkaze

June 1897

The Gryffindor Common Room was hosting the most raucous party that Ethel had ever known it to host in all the years she had been at school, and with good reason: Gryffindor had just won the Quidditch Cup.

It had been a fiercely fought game, with both sides having high stakes in the match; the Hufflepuff team were desperate to keep their title as champions, and the Gryffindors were determined to steal that title from them. For Ethel more than anyone, this was personal. She had sworn blind to Lysander Mercury the year before that she and her team would beat him and his, and finally, she had made good on that promise.

She should have been delighted, but she was not. Naturally, she was happy to have been victorious and to have bested Lysander, but even so, she could not help but feel hollow somehow. It was for that reason that she left the celebrations in the Common Room and retired early to her bedchamber.

She had barely finished donning her nightrobes when the door opened and she was joined by Selene, who looked at her as if concerned.

“Are you quite well, Effy?” she asked.

“Yes. Just tired from the excitement, I think,” Ethel replied. “You need not worry on my account. And you need not miss out on the party, either. You can attend without my being there.”

But Selene shook her head. “There’s no party worth attending if you are not also in attendance.”

She changed into her nightrobes and unbraided her hair, before climbing not into her own bed, but Ethel’s. They sat propped against the pillows, with Selene’s head resting on Ethel’s shoulder, and Ethel’s resting on Selene’s crown.

“In truth, Effy, I also feel too tired to attend the party.”

“You do?”

“Yes. It do not know why, but I have not felt like celebrating all evening. I should be ecstatic, but I feel a little empty. Is that not strange?”

“It is rather strange, and yet I feel the same way,” Ethel frowned. “I wonder why that is.”

“I do not know. I suppose we shall have plenty of time to find out.”

“We shall indeed. After all, it’s not like there will not be other victory parties to attend in the future.”

Selene sighed heavily, but she smiled. “Yes, I suppose we are bound to attend many victory parties when we both join the Chudley Cannons.”

Ethel returned Selene’s smile, but her words made her feel even worse than she already did. Now, she did not just feel deflated, she felt guilty as well.

“Selly, my dear, I… I am afraid that I have a confession to make,” she said. Selene lifted her head from her shoulder and frowned, and Ethel sat up a little straighter. “I fear that perhaps I no longer wish to be a Quidditch player when I grow up. I am sorry. I know that it has always been our dream to play for the Cannons together, but-”

“Effy, no!”

“It is true, Selene. Will you ever forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Selene was also sitting up straight, facing Ethel. She did not look upset or angry, but hopeful. “I have also had doubts as to whether my dreams have changed. I was worried that you might never forgive me!”

“There is nothing you could ever do that I would not forgive,” Ethel told her. “So, pray tell, what might your new dream be?”

“I am not certain, but I know that it must be a dream we both can share,” said Selene. “I have been spending a great deal of time with Eliot Gerard of late, and it is his dream to be a travelling Healer.”

“I do not think that Healing should be our new dream.”

“No, me neither, but he has told me such wonderful stories of the mysteries and miracles of the world, and I would like for nothing more than to see and experience those for myself. I have been cooped up in my parents’ house for so many years, it is time that I saw everything else the world has to offer.”

“And we shall see to it that you are able to do precisely this.” Ethel nodded. “We shall travel together, and while we do so, we shall study and practice law.”

“Law?”

“Yes, Selly. While you have been listening to Eliot Gerard’s stories, I have been reading and reading and reading about the subject. I have discovered so much, and so much that I wish to change. By studying and practising law, we could be the ones to change that.”

“Oh, yes! That we could definitely do!”

“Oh, we shall see so much and do so much good. One day, we may even be able to be in the Wizengamot, or be Ministers for Magic! Wouldn’t that be superb?”

“It would,” Selene agreed, but the smile had slipped from her face. “But, Effy, how would we join the Wizengamot or be Ministers for Magic if we are travelling the world? We cannot change the laws of this country if we are always away visiting other places.”

That gave Ethel pause. She frowned, considering Selene’s words. She was right, Ethel could not travel the world and still achieve her political and legal ambitions in the country she lived in now. If she wished to join Selene and be a part of her dream, then she would have to leave those ambitions behind.

“Very well,” she said slowly. “In that case, I shall not set my sights on either. Instead, I shall come with you.”

“What about studying and practising law?” Selene asked.

“I can still study the law whilst we travel.”

“But… Your new dream, Effy!”

“It is no matter. If we search the whole world, I am certain to find another dream elsewhere,” said Ethel, trying her hardest to keep the doubt and disappointment from her voice. Clearly, she had not tried hard enough, however, for Selene shook her head.

“No, that will not do. I cannot stop you from achieving your ambitions,” she said. “I do not need to see the world. I can read about it in stories and imagine it. Who knows, my imagination may even be better than the reality.”

“Selene, you cannot mean to give up your wishes for mine.”

“You meant to do the same for me.”

“I know, but I cannot abide the idea of you being miserable on my account.”

“I shall not be miserable if I am to see you happy.”

“And I could never be happy if I knew that it was at your expense,” Ethel replied. “We shall go together.”

“No, we shall remain here together.”

“But, Selly…”

“You are my best friend, Ethel. I cannot allow you to abandon your dreams.”

“And I cannot allow you to abandon yours.”

Both girls knew the other to be incredibly stubborn. There was no way in which one might give way to the other. They had to reach a compromise.

“So, what should we do?” Selene asked with a puzzled expression.

Ethel thought for a moment, before coming up with a suggestion. It was not a suggestion that filled her with hope, but it was at least some sort of solution to their problem.

“We could stick to our old plan,” she said, feeling her heart sink at the words. “Of course, neither of us would be truly happy, but at least we would both be slightly miserable together.”

“We could do that, yes.” Selene sighed, and bit down on her bottom lip before adding: “Or…”

“Or?”

The word Ethel had hoped to hear. Naturally, Selene would find the answer. But Selene’s answer was not one that she had expected, nor wanted to hear:

“Or we could both be truly happy separated.”

Ethel’s lips parted and her eyebrows furrowed. She did not understand Selene’s meaning. How could either of them ever be truly happy if they were separated? How could they be separated? They were inseparable, everyone knew that.

“Listen. Really, listen,” Selene insisted. “One of us is going to have to sacrifice our dreams, and neither of us is prepared to watch the other do that. If we both sacrifice our dreams, we will be together, but we will both be unhappy.”

“I don’t mind being unhappy,” said Ethel, completely honestly.

“No, but I mind your being unhappy. And you mind my being unhappy.” Selene’s eyes were filling with tears. “If the only way for us both to be happy is for us to be so apart, then that is what we shall have to do. We shall miss each other greatly, but I would much rather miss you and be content knowing that you are happy than to see you miserable. Do you not feel the same?”

Ethel did not want to admit it, but it was true. If it was a choice between sacrificing Selene’s happiness or sacrificing Selene’s presence at her side, she knew which she must sacrifice. So, reluctantly, she nodded her head.

“Our dreams are pulling us down two different paths,” Ethel said. Her own eyes were teary now, it made her vision blurry. “And if we must go our separate ways to follow them, then go our separate ways we must.”

“I believe so.”

A tear ran down Selene’s cheek. Seeing her so upset was enough to render Ethel entirely resolute. She was also upset, but could be strong, if only for Selene. She put her hand to Selly’s face, wiped her tear away with her thumb, and told her:

“You shall go, and you shall see the world.”

“And you shall stay, and you shall change it for the better.”

Selene took hold of Ethel’s hand and squeezed it, tight. Ethel blinked back her tears, to no avail.

“I will miss you, though,” she told Selene.

“And I you,” was Selene’s reply. “But we…” She swallowed. “Effy, do you promise that whatever we both do, and wherever we both go, that we shall always be sisters?”

“Always, Selly. I promise.”

The two girls - the two sisters - were both crying now, and there was nothing that could stop either of from doing so. And though they both knew it was impossible to console the other, they still wrapped their arms around each other in a hug so tight that no one other than they themselves would ever be able to separate them.

[lifeofkaze]

The Adventures of Alan the Ferret

The Rescue Mission

A/N: Happy Birthday to my free-spirited Highland gal Selene! May your whiskey never dry, stories never get boring and fire never go out. Stay wild, moon child ❤️ Ethel Hexley belongs to my wonderful @the-al-chemist, Gabriel Sapieha (in mention) to @slytherindisaster

Twelve-year old Selene Fraser was seldomly nervous. She didn’t bat an eye at sneaking out at night, balancing over the thinnest of ledges, or diving headfirst into the fray on her broomstick on the hunt for the Golden Snitch.

Today, however, she was sat at the back of the Transfiguration classroom like a cat on a hot tin roof, her foot bouncing rapidly and her eyes fixed on the clock ticking above the dais with the teacher’s desk.

When the deep sound of the bell ringing inside the clockwork tower signalled the end of their class, the assembled students packed away their things. One after the other they filed into the back of the classroom to put away the ferrets they had transfigured into feather dusters, to be untransfigured by some unfortunate first-years.

Professor Figg, the good-humoured Transfiguration teacher, was walking up and down the rows of tables, checking for leftover props, forgotten quills or parchment. When he walked by Selene’s table, he paused.

“Is anything the matter, Miss Fraser?”

Selene stopped squirming in her seat and slowly looked up at her teacher. “Not at all. Why would anything be the matter?”

“Because all of your classmates seem to have packed their things and you’re the only one still lingering behind. Have you stowed away your feather duster?

“Ethel did it for me, Sir” Selene answered dutifully. As soon as she had said it, Ethel Hexley, Selene’s best friend and Transfiguration partner, appeared next to her table.

“That I did, Sir,” Ethel said and looked at him so innocently that Professor Figg couldn’t help but notice a sinking feeling building inside his stomach. Ethel ushered Selene out of her seat and the two girls quickly made for the door, but it was still blocked by their classmates. They tried pushing through them but were stopped by the voice of Professor Figg calling them back.

“Miss Fraser, Miss Hexley. A word, please.”

Selene and Ethel stiffened and exchanged glances before reluctantly returning to the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom.

“What is the matter, Sir?” Ethel asked with an overly concerned frown. Selene didn’t say anything; she stood next to Ethel fidgeting nervously. She brushed her hand up and down her skirts and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Professor Figg looked at her curiously but she kept her eyes fixed to the top of his desk.

“I seem to be short a feather duster,” he said slowly, not taking his eyes off Selene. “You two wouldn’t happen to have seen it anywhere, would you? Miss Fraser?”

“No, why would we?” Ethel answered in Selene’s stead, her eyes wide with wonder. “I did take both of our feather dusters back, like all of us did. You saw me coming back, didn’t you? Where would I have come from had I not been putting both of them where they belonged? And what would we do with a feather duster, in any case? I see no reason why we would know about the missing subject’s whereabouts.”

“As elaborate as your defence is, Miss Hexley, the two of you have managed to build a reputation for stirring up trouble.”

“That is defamation. Sir,” Ethel added indignantly when she saw Professor Figg’s eyebrows rise. “Whatever you heard, Sapieha and his comrades started it. We would never do anything to intentionally cause trouble.”

“Trouble has made it a habit of finding us,” Selene shrugged and Ethel elbowed her into the side. Selene gave a little shriek and gripped the fabric of her skirt tightly. She bit her lip and her face twisted as if she was in pain. Both Ethel and Professor Figg looked at her, one in slight alarm, the other in astonished concern.

“Miss Fraser, are you alright?”

Selene had gone pale in the face. She didn’t answer but nodded frantically.

“Are you certain? Your demeanour is most peculiar.”

Ethel looked between their teacher and her friend and gave a deep sigh that sounded as if she had to bring herself to speak.

“I am truly sorry, Selly dear,” she said and looked at Selene apologetically, “but we do need to tell him the truth. As our teacher, he is most concerned about your welfare, after all.” Looking left and right as if to make sure they were really alone in the classroom, she lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “Selene is quite unwell. The beans for lunch, you understand? Selene can’t help herself when it comes to beans, always over-indulging herself. I keep telling her, but she just won’t listen.”

Selene glared at Ethel but moved her free hand to her stomach while the other was still clutching her skirts. She rolled her eyes dramatically and groaned as if in sudden pain. “Would you let us go, Sir? My stomach is really rather upset.” To prove her point, she started dry-heaving and Professor Figg quickly stepped to the side.

“Merlin, of course,” he stammered, not sure what to do with the now writhing and wailing girl in front of him. “Escort Miss Fraser to the Hospital Wing, Miss Hexley, will you?”

Ethel linked arms with the doubled over Selene and pulled her toward the door. “No need, Professor. My dear mamma used to give my brother Jimmy a ginger root to chew when his stomach was upset. That happened to him every other day, the poor soul. Papa said it was his constant state of agitation, but I’m not entirely sure what he meant with that. Whatever would Jimmy be agitated about? Let’s go and get you a ginger root, shall we, Selly?”

Selene glanced up at Ethel from beneath her dark hair which had fallen into her eyes after a particularly dramatic impression of a stomach cramp. “Are you sure you’re actually supposed to chew a whole root, Effy?”

“Of course you are. Don’t I give the impression that I know what I’m doing? That must the sickness speaking out of you. Or the beans, whoever might know?”

The two girls had been moving towards the door while they were speaking and were almost through it when the voice of Professor Figg sounded behind their back.

“What about my feather duster?”

“We will keep an eye out for it,” Ethel called over her shoulder and with that, she and Selene had made it through the door and out of the classroom. They just so managed to maintain their composure until they had rounded the corner and were out of earshot before they burst into laughter and started running.

When they reached the Gryffindor common room, they barged up the steps to their dormitory and threw the door shut behind them. As soon as Ethel had made sure that the door was looked, Selene carefully let go of the lump of fabric in her dress she had been holding. She lifted the black skirt of her uniform to reveal the petticoat underneath, shaking it slightly. When nothing happened, she frowned and shook it with more force. She started jumping up and down until eventually a brown ball of fur dropped onto the floor. After a moment it unfurled to reveal a small and lithe body with a long, bushy tail. The ferret righted itself, shook his little head and looked around himself in confusion.

“I can’t believe it worked,” Selene whispered and stared at the ferret in awe.

“Of course it worked,” Ethel said matter-of-factly, “the plan was infallible. I don’t see what could possibly have gone wrong.”

Selene only raised her head shortly before concentrating on the ferret again. “A few things come to mind.”

“One of them being your acting skills. You certainly won’t win a price for subtlety anytime soon.”

“My acting skills are marvellous!”

“If I ever need to cast a woman wailing herself to death I know who I shall turn to.”

“Can you even fathom what it feels like to carry a ferret beneath your petticoat?”

“Do I look like I would know?”

“It wouldn’t keep still and it bit me. Look!” Selene cried out and presented a narrow set of two angry red puncture holes on her thigh where the ferret had nipped her. She prodded the spot with her finger and a drop of blood started forming. Selene unceremoniously wiped it off with her sleeve. She suddenly stopped and looked at Ethel with wide eyes. “That’s not dangerous, is it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Selly. Have you ever heard of ferret bites being poisonous?”

“I don’t think so.”

“See? We shall not worry about it. But do let me know if you feel like you’re about to faint. Mamma taught me how to use aromatic salt after I made Jimmy faint three times in a row.”

“I shall.” Selene let her skirts drop and kneeled down in front of the ferret. “I don’t even know why we rescued you. It was utterly rude not to cooperate with us when we had nothing but your best interests at heart.”

The ferret made a little chirruping sound and tilted its head, staring at Selene out of big, dark eyes. Her face softened and she extended her hand to touch the soft fur. “Look at you pretending to be a nice, well-mannered critter. Why, you are quite the little rascal, aren’t you?” she giggled as the ferret climbed up her skirt and back and peeked its head out from in between Selene’s hair. She took him off and held it out to Ethel for closer inspection.

“Whatever shall we name him, Effy?”

“What do you think about Biscuit?”

Selene made a doubtful noise. “That doesn’t strike me as very clever. Is Biscuit even a proper name for a ferret?”

“I’d wager that it is not,” Ethel shrugged, “but I’d fancy some.”

Selene looked at the ferret again. “He doesn’t strike me as the type of ferret to be named after a treat. But I do suggest we go and get some.”

“Splendid. Something less exciting than Biscuit then.”

“Most things are less exciting than biscuits.”

“Naturally. What do you think of Alan?”

“Why Alan?”

“Our Potions Master is called Alan, I believe. His eyes are just as beady.”

“What a keen observation.” Selene brought the ferret closer to her face. “How do you like Alan? Do you want this to be your name?”

The ferret yawned widely, wrapped its tail around Selene’s wrist and snuggled deeper into her hands. A smile formed on her face as she held the animal closer to her chest.

“That is good enough for me. Welcome to the family, Alan.”

[slytherindisaster]

There is no plot or premise for this tbh, I just really wanted to put some of these clips together and then I just kept going. @the-al-chemist gotta love the dumbassery they have going on

[usernoneexistent]

A/N: I had so much fun writing this of my favourite prankster duo, Sethel. This was an absolute ride to write for 'water' so Al and Kaze I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Also I highly recommend if you play the song to start at when it says 'as the music changed' to really set the mood.

Characters featured: Ethel Hexley @the-al-chemist, Selene Fraser and Alan the ferret @lifeofkaze​.

Warnings: Sethel

It was a quiet evening. Glenn Rosewood had a good day today and had been looking forward to having the bathroom to himself. No student was out of line today, no interruption, no handing out detention and deduction house points. Not even a peep out his junior students, Ethel Hexley and Selene Fraser, arguably the biggest pests of Hogwarts and the main contributor to his chronic headaches. Passing the statue of Boris the Bewildered, Glenn reached the door.

"Pelagus." He whispered.

The door opened, and Glenn immediately went to the bathroom stalls to change into his bathing suit. On the opposite side of the room, he left his washing items by the pool, illuminated by the candle-lit chandelier. The school did supply complimentary bath items for students to wash with. Still, Glenn has always preferred bringing his own supply. He watched the hundred golden taps fill the sunken pool until the foam perfectly touched the pool's edge.

He dipped in slowly, taking his time to unwind. As the only person here, he could play whatever song he liked from his portable gramophone. His annoying little sister couldn't even barge in to complain about how out of date his music taste was. Taking his bar of soap, that looked slightly pink which Glenn doesn't recall it ever being pale pink. Despite his suspicions, he washed his hair before simply relaxing inside the tub. His muscles loosened, and his eyes were slowly shutting from pure bliss. He heard muffled giggles that he assumed came from the mermaid in the stained glass window overlooking the bath. He also hear squeaks followed by tiny footsteps, coming closer to him. Glenn glanced at the marble floor but saw nothing.

However, it only lasted for a few minutes as the water quickly went cold. Glenn's fingertips were wrinkled like a shrivelfig and almost blue. Glenn went to grab for his wand to reheat the water as he accidentally knocked down a soap bar from the supplied bathroom items.

"For Godrick's sake," he muttered as he blindly navigated his hand through the soapy water for the soap bar. Something slipped through his fingers, almost kicking him. Glenn grabbed it again and pulled out the slippery thing, only to be greeted by a loud croak.

"Bloody Merlin!" The frog flew out of his hand. The chorus of croaking frogs started as the music changed to something more upbeat. Exactly what I needed, he thought to himself. Glenn left the pool immediately to search for his wand to try at least to use the freezing charm on the never-ending spawning of frogs. Drenched, water dripped onto the white marble floor.

He lifted his towels and other items that he had brought. "Where are you, wand?"

Glenn raided through every bathroom corner to find his apparently missing wand. The number of frogs grew more and more as they covered more area. Glenn couldn't even hear himself think through the loud croaks and horrific music that seemed to blast through. He sought shelter in the bathroom stalls as that was the least crowded by the amphibians.

"Blasted!" He smacked the sink, "where did my bloody wand go?"

Something looked wrong in the mirror. Glenn looked up and saw his hair but in a bright shade of magnolia pink. Only so many students would prank him this far; Hexley and Fraser. But how did they pull this off, and where were they? No, Glenn had to focus on finding his wand first to stop the frogs, at least the moment he opened that door, it would become a frog plague at Hogwarts. Then he can find the two girls and deal with them accordingly.

A flash of brown and white moved in the mirror. There's only one animal that is nimble and small; a ferret. Glenn turned to look at the bathroom stall behind him. Slowly creeping up before pushing the door open.

"I knew it! It was yous, Fraser and Hexley!"

"Hi Glenn, I love the new hairstyle," Ethel grinned mischievously.

"I agree with Ethel. The colour pink suits you, Glenn," Selene matched Ethel's grin. Her pet ferret, Alan, was on her shoulder.

Glenn stood there, not amused by their compliments, cross-armed while frogs hopped at his feet and that annoying music still blasting. "Detention for both of you."

"Not if you can't catch us first." Ethel taunted, undeterred by Glenn's punishment. "Here, catch."

"Wait, what?" Glenn saw a stick fly out of her before grabbing it. It was his wand. Selene threw something to the ground while Glenn was distracted. The bath stalls were covered in smoke; he barely managed to hear their footsteps passing by him.

"So long Glenn!"

"And good luck!"

Glenn ran after as best as he could with the frog-filled floor and was careful to not slip and fall down. The door was open as the frogs jumped at the opportunity outside. The girls and their ferret seemed to have disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

"Hexley! Fraser! I'll get you for this!" Glenn stood at the prefect bathroom door, soaking in his new bright pink hair and an army of frogs escaping behind him.

Next story: Your Secret Admirer

[that-scouse-wizard]

HPHL Appreciation Week Day 4: Favourite Ships that aren’t Mine

Part 4 of @endlessly-cursed‘s event

Ethel Hexley (@the-al-chemist) and Lysander Mercury (@slytherindisaster) 

A rivals to lovers ship where the two of them bicker but there’s actual chemistry between them? Hell to the yes.

Siobhan Llwelyn (@kc-and-co) and Galen Stagg (@cursebreakerfarrier)

These two are one of the most adorable ships out there, the fluff (and occasional bit of angst) from these two is so good!

Carolyn Nybery (@lifeofkaze) and Bradford Pendleton (@kc-and-co)

Can I just say that the idea of these two being in an arranged marriage, despising it only to eventually fall for each other was an absolute stroke of genius on behalf of their fabulous creators.

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 42

A/N: Jim had the first proper chapter, and he will have the last, too. We’re ending on a hopeful note.

Warnings: breaking of the most important rule of theatre. Sorry for any bad luck.

OCs mentioned: Selene Fraser and family @lifeofkaze

August 1897

It had been a relatively quiet summer, by all accounts, and the peaceful atmosphere at the Hexley family’s cottage only grew once Ethel left home to visit Selene and her grandparents in the Scottish highlands. Despite his twin sister having become marginally less tiresome in the previous few months, Jim could not say in truth that he was impatient to have her back. He was rather enjoying his serene summer without her.

Still, he was as glad as anyone to see her handwriting on the envelope of a letter delivered over breakfast one morning in the first half of August. His mother was the one to open the envelope, and she read through the several sheets of parchment it contained with a wide smile on her face.

“It sounds like the girls are having a splendid time,” she informed her son and husband, the latter of whom hummed behind his newspaper in response. “Ethel says that they saw a kelpie in one of the lochs, and Selene’s uncle has taught them the basics of whiskey-making.”

“Just what every young lady needs to know,” murmured Jim’s father. “Anything else?”

“Yes, they’re preparing a two-woman production of Macbeth to perform for the family before she leaves.”

“Dear Jove. Have Selene’s relatives not suffered enough already?”

“Apparently not,” Mrs Hexley sighed. “Perhaps we had ought to send up another gift to thank them for their hospitality.”

“I have some spare sets of earmuffs in my greenhouse,” her husband suggested. “They work against my Mandrakes, they might even be good enough to work against our daughter.”

Jim laughed into his cup of tea, and though his mother shook her head, her own lips were twitching.

“I’ll write to her grandmother later, or maybe her uncle. I understand he and his husband live with the grandparents.”

Frowning, Jim raised his head. “His husband?”

“Oh, yes. Not by law, of course, but in all other respects that’s how I would describe them,” said his mother. She looked at home an laughed. “Really, Jimmy. You should see the look on your face.”

“Well, I… I was not aware that a man might have a husband, by law or not. I did not know that men could love one another, not in that way.”

“A great many people can love one another in many different ways with no power over how they do it. That is the beauty of love. The heart knows what it wants, and all one has to do is have the strength to follow it.”

“I suppose that you are right, Mamma.”

“Your mother is always right, Jim,” said Mr Hexley, and his wife kissed the top of his head before leaving the room. He watched her do so, and once she was gone, added under his breath, “Or so she keeps telling me.” He lowered his newspaper and fixed Jim with a peculiar look. “On the subject of love, did you manage to pluck up the courage to ask that young lady if she would be interested in courting you?”

“Er, in a way… Yes, I suppose I did.”

“And? Will you be courting her any time soon?”

Jim lowered his eyes to the table as he pictured the look on Héloïse’s face when he had told her that she was beautiful, the feeling of her lips on his own when they had kissed on the staircase and the movement of her dressrobes as they had danced together in the Great Hall afterwards. How she had been bathed in moonlight with her hair as black as the night sky, her eyes filled with hope and her voice honey-sweet when they had sat at the top of the astronomy tower and each said three words that had been so simple and yet so very meaningful, all at once.

“Father,” he said eventually, not even trying to keep the smile from his face, “I think that I will marry her one day soon.”

His father nodded slowly.

“In that case, I shall have to up my prices,” he said, and with that, he returned to his newspaper.

Jim continued smiling as he looked out of the window. Outside, the sun was shining, and the wildflowers were in bloom. It was beautiful. Later, he would draw them - perhaps he would even use colour, the way Brady had taught him - and send the picture to Héloïse. For now, however, he was content just to look, to keep the sketchbook she had given him tucked away in his breastpocket, and feel his heart beat against it through the fabric of his clothes. No one else knew that it was there, but he did. He knew what lay close to his heart, he knew what his heart wanted, and he knew that he had the strength to follow it. He had already begun to follow it, and he would continue to do so soon.

Soon.

One day, soon.

[catohphm]

Thank you so much for including my boy 💙

Day 6: Valid Males

For @endlessly-cursed’s Hogwarts Legacy Appreciation Week

For this, I picked a bunch of awesome men who represent the wide spectrum of personalities found in each house. However, I want to give a shout out to these two boys: Adonis Demiurgos and Elias Quintin, who both let one of my girls (Minerva & Brianna, respectively) love them.

Gryffindor

Feautring:

Grant Kennedy

Adonis Demiurgos - @endlessly-cursed

Bernie Brennan - @amerrymystery

Oliver Gerard - @kc-and-co

Galen Stagg - @cursebreakerfarrier

Hufflepuff

Featuring:

Maxwell Pembroke

Prince Henry of Alderly - @gaygryffindorgal (who has renewed my idea of making a royal bastard kiddo with the last name Fitzroy)

Sebastian Oliver Devlin - William & Josie’s son

Lysander Mercury - @slytherindisaster

Jim Hexley - @the-al-chemist

Slytherin

Featuring:

Elias Quintin - @amerrymystery

Alfred Dermot “Alfie” Kennedy - Grant & Lottie’s son

Basil Keaton - @cursebreakerfarrier

Bradford Pendleton - @kc-and-co

Frederick Lavigne - @slytherindisaster

Ravenclaw

Featuring:

Oscar Theodore Lynch - Tadhg & Niamh’s son

William Devlin

Anthony Hawthorne - @gaygryffindorgal

Rueben Willows - @that-scouse-wizard

Danny Gibson - @catohphm

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 36

A/N: the night of the ball has finally arrived, and Ophelia is determined to make the most of this opportunity.

Warnings: Ophelia’s usual antics, plus fake-dating trope gone wrong.

OCs featured/mentioned: Carolyn Nyberg, Selene Fraser, Alan the ferret and Henry Lovecraft @lifeofkaze, Bradford Pendleton, Ivy Anders, Oliver Gerard and Eliot Gerard @kc-and-co, Adelia Selwyn @thatravenpuffwitch, Marigold Sterling and Cledwyn Ironwood @that-scouse-wizard, Victoria Summer @whatwouldvalerydo, Primrose Gray @endlessly-cursed, William Devlin and Maxwell Pembroke @unfortunate-arrow, Lydia Ellis @mjs-oc-corner

May 1897

The night of the Celestial Ball had arrived at last, and it was everything Ophelia had dreamed it would be. The Great Hall had been transformed into a grand ballroom, with the tables vanished to make enough space for people to dance, and a large obelisk in the very middle. Even the enchanted ceiling appeared more star-filled than usual, as if the very sky knew that this night was going to be one where something magical might happen.

Ophelia observed the scene from one of the seats that lined the walls of the Great Hall. Carolyn, Adelia, and Marigold were all on the dancefloor; Caro with Bradford Pendleton, Adelia with Teddy Ellison, and Marigold with Lydia Ellis. All three of them looked beautiful in their dress robes, and were the very pictures of poise and grace as they danced with their suitors.

The Slytherins were not the only ones who were looking and dancing exquisitely. Hufflepuff’s Ivy Anders flashed Ophelia a wide and friendly smile as she paraded past on the arm of Maxwell Pembroke, while Gryffindor’s Oliver Gerard and Victoria Summer appeared to be saving their smiles for each other. Primrose Grey from Ravenclaw was among the best dressed, smiling as she danced with her fiancé William Devlin. Ophelia felt a pang of jealousy. It was not fair, really. Primrose’s parents had picked out a wealthy suitor for her as a child, and she did not even need one. She clearly had enough money for pretty dresses and dance lessons without one.

As for Ophelia herself, she had managed to magically alter the dress her mother had bought her for birthday so it looked brand new and far fancier and more fashionable than it was in reality. She had arranged her newly blonde hair very prettily and applied a subtle amount of Marigold’s rouge to her cheeks in order to accentuate her newly green eyes. But as of yet, no one had asked her to dance with them.

It was peculiar; she looked as close to being beautiful as she ever would, and the stage had been set perfectly for her to showcase that, but somehow, she still found herself waiting in the wings. She had so many potential leading men, but she had yet to become a leading lady. Sitting to the side of the dance floor next to the wall, she may not have even been part of the ensemble. No, she was merely a piece of the scenery.

She was trying to act as if nothing was vexing her - after all, no gentleman would want to dance with a lady who did not smile nicely - but she was finding it increasingly difficult to not show how disappointed she was by this turn of events. Still, she was able to force a smile as Carolyn approached her, Bradford at her side, the two of them having retired from the dancefloor.

“Ophelia, are you not dancing?” Caro asked her, and Ophelia shook her head. “Why, has no one yet asked you?”

“No, sadly not.”

“Now, that simply will not do. You must have a dance,” said Brady. Ophelia looked at him hopefully, but his eyes had started to scan the dancefloor. “I’m certain that we can find someone to dance with you. Let’s see… Ah, just the person. Jim, old bean!”

At the sound of his name being called out, Jim Hexley walked towards the group. When he reached them, Brady etched around to clap him on the back.

“Jim, my friend, we have a young lady who wishes to dance and has no partner to dance with, and I see that you appear to have misplaced your dance partner.”

“Oh, well, I… I have not misplaced her. That is to say, I am quite certain of where she is. Over there, look.” Jim pointed in the direction of the refreshment table, where his twin sister Ethel was drinking pumpkinade with her own dance partner, Cledwyn Ironwood. On her other side, Selene Fraser was intently listening to something that Eliot Gerard was telling her.

“I take no joy in being the man to deliver this news to you, old chap, but it would appear that there are three of you in this partnership.”

“Yes, but then that… that has been the case since the beginning of the evening.”

As Jim spoke, the small, minky-furred body of a ferret climbed up over Selene’s shoulder and came to rest there, a small bow tie tied around its neck. Brady guffawed, Jim chuckled, and even Carolyn’s lips twitched a little.

“So, what do you say, Jim?” Brady asked, once he had finished laughing. “Fancy a turn about the room with Miss Burke here?”

Jim cleared his throat before nodding his head. “Uh, yes. Of course. It would be my pleasure. An honour. I… Ophelia, would you like to dance?”

Ophelia considered the offer. Jim Hexley was not the sort of wizard she had hoped to dance with. He was a decent enough fellow, but not at all wealthy. Still, one had to start somewhere, and everyone knew that a gentleman showing interest in a woman was sure to garner the interest of other men. So, she took Jim’s proffered hand and accompanied him to the dancefloor, where the couples had just begun to dance along to the polka music being played by an unmanned orchestra.

“I am afraid that I… I am not the best dancer,” Jim apologised. “Ethel and Selene did teach me - or attempted to teach me, I should say - but their efforts, I fear, have been in vain.”

“Do you think that is why Miss Fraser has set her sights on Eliot Gerard?” Ophelia asked. Jim shook his head. His face looked somewhat saddened. “Are you upset by this snub?”

“No. Not at all,” Jim almost smiled. “Selene and I are just friends. Perhaps more like family, with how close she and my sister are.”

“Then why do you seem downhearted?”

“It is nothing. I mean, I am not. I… Well, I had wished to accompany someone else tonight. I am sorry.”

“That is very well. I had wished to accompany someone else, as well.”

“Really? Who?”

“No one in particular. Just someone of status.”

“I see,” Jim nodded slowly, frowning. “I feel that I must be a disappointment.”

“It is better than dancing with no one at all, is it not?” Ophelia asked him.

“I am not certain that I agree. I… It seems to me that the more dances one has with others, the more one misses the company of the one they truly wish to dance with.”

“Well, maybe if the one you wish to dance with sees you dancing with another, she will find herself wishing that it was her you were dancing with and miss you in return.”

Jim looked thoughtful. “That is what my sister said. But so far, Héloïse has barely looked at me.”

“Does she know that you and Selene are only friends, and that Selene has also been accompanied by her ferret?”

“I… I do believe that she does.”

“Then perhaps this is why your sister’s plan has not worked. Say, I have an idea,” said Ophelia, suddenly feeling hopeful again. “A ruse, one which will allow us to help one another. If we each appear to be enjoying the other’s company as we dance, then other wizards shall wish to dance with me, and… Héloïse, did you say? Perhaps Héloïse will take notice of you at last. What say you?”

“It is as good a plan as any, I suppose,” Jim sighed. “How… How should I act towards you.”

“You may start by smiling,” Ophelia told him, and Jim laughed quietly to himself. “See? You are doing quite well already.”

They smiled at one another as they danced, barely talking. Jim did not seem to want to talk much, seeming to be too preoccupied with counting his steps to attempt to hold a conversation. Eventually, though, he asked her:

“Is it working? The ruse?”

“I think it is, yes,” Ophelia said. She looked around her at the boys at the edges of the hall. Several were looking at her, including Henry Lovecraft, who was watching the scene with the little dark-haired, dark-eyed girl at his side. “Héloïse is looking at us.”

“She is?” Jim’s eyes brightened. He cleared his throat. “Is she… What is she doing?”

“At present she is talking with Henry Lovecraft.”

“Ah.”

“He is putting an arm around her shoulders.”

“Oh.”

“I do believe that he is attempting to comfort her,” Ophelia informed Jim, watching as Héloïse took a deep breath and blinked rapidly. “Yes, she looks quite upset.”

“What? Is she-”

“No, don’t look, you’ll ruin the ruse,” said Ophelia. “It is working, is it not?” Jim nodded, but he looked doubtful. Ophelia turned her attention back to Héloïse and Henry Lovecraft. “She is sad, but Henry is saying something to her. She is shaking her head, and has stepped away from him.”

“She has?”

“Yes, but he’s taken hold of her hand. Oh, but she’s taken her hand back. She’s taken another step away from him. She… Oh.”

“What?” Jim asked urgently. “What is she doing?”

“I do not know,” said Ophelia. “She has left. She ran that way.” She pointed in the direction of the main doors out of the hall, and Jim turned his head to look, his lips parting and his arms falling to his sides. Ophelia sighed. “You should go after her.”

“Are you… You do not mind my leaving?”

“Of course not. The ruse has served its purpose.”

Jim bowed his head to her, and she curtsied back. And with that they parted ways, their ruse over. And it had worked. For as Jim rushed out of the Great Hall, Ophelia returned to her seat by the wall with more eyes on her than ever, knowing fully well that this time, she would not remain a wallflower for long.

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 40

A/N: the school year is ending, and it’s time for another goodbye. This time, it’s Héloïse’s turn.

Warnings: fluff.

OCs mentioned: Lavinia Macmillan @kc-and-co, Henry Lovelace @lifeofkaze

June 1897

The final night of term had arrived. The end of year exams were over, the trunks were all packed, and everyone in the castle was ready to enjoy their summers at home.

It was strange, Héloïse thought as she made her way up through the corridors, but a not-insignificant part of her was sad to be leaving. She would not have expected it when she first arrived at Hogwarts that frigid day the previous January, but she was going to miss the ramshackle castle, the cold and airy Ravenclaw common room, the moving staircase that made it almost impossible to find one’s way anywhere on time, and the lessons and conversations held in the language she was starting to feel like she might one day be able to master.

She had not believed the headmaster or Professor Macmillan when they had told her that she might one day come to consider Hogwarts a sort of home, but now, she considered it just that.

Of course, the thing that had made all the difference to her enjoyment of her time at Hogwarts had been the friends she had made within its walls; the girls in her dormitory, Henry Lovecraft the American, the francophone Slytherins, Madam Khanna the librarian, and Jim Hexley, with whom Héloïse was on her way to meet at Astronomy tower for the last time until she returned to school in September.

Since the night of the Celestial Ball, the two of them had made a habit of spending time at the Astronomy Tower, returning there almost every evening just before sundown and remaining there until curfew. In those precious few hours, they would sit peacefully and read, or catch up on schoolwork, or watch the stars, or draw. Sometimes they would even spend the entire time talking, which was unusual for Héloïse. She had never spoken so much to one person before, and she got the feeling that no one had ever listened so much to Jim before.

Tonight, however, Jim did not seem to want to talk. Despite not having brought a book - sketchbook or otherwise - with him, he remained taciturn as Héloïse sat with her back against the wall and her eyes on the rising moon. Normally, she wouldn’t have minded, but it being the last time they would see one another for three months, she would have preferred it if he had wanted to talk.

Eventually, she sighed loudly and asked him, “Jim, why are you quiet?”

“I… I do not know what to say,” Jim told her. She frowned at him. “It seems that… that anything I might say would not be right thing. That it would be too inconsequential, or perhaps not inconsequential enough. And I, er… Well, I am trying to concentrate.”

“Concentrate?”

“Focus,” said Jim. He cleared his throat. “I want to make sure I remember exactly what you look like before we go home tomorrow. I fear that I may forget something.”

Héloïse laughed. “You have drawings, no?”

“I do, but I am not… I lack the ability to truly capture how lovely you are.”

“This is untrue,” Héloïse said, but she smiled at the compliment. “You are going to write to me this summer, yes?”

“Yes. Yes, definitely.”

“And when we are to return, we will to come back here every evening?”

“Of course,” Jim nodded. “If we could return tomorrow, I would. I do not truly wish to leave at all, because I will not…” He smiled. “Because you will be missing to me.”

“You are mocking of me?” Héloïse asked him, one eyebrow raised.

“No, never.”

“It is sounding like you are mocking of me.”

“I’m not, I promise,” said Jim, his cheeks flushing pink. “Really, I do not-”

“I know this, Jim,” Héloïse giggled. “It is a jest, no?” She reached out and squeezed Jim’s hand, and he looked less nervous. “I will to miss you, also. Very much so.”

With her free hand, she touched the side of Jim’s face and gently brought it closer to her own. Jim appeared to battle with his conscience before responding by kissing her, his fingers burying in the curls of her hair as she ran her thumb over the arch of his cheekbone, both of them pulling the other closer and closer with each passing moment.

The two of them had shared a few stolen kisses since the night of the Celestial Ball, but this one was warmer and firmer and fiercer than any of the others had been, and somehow, it seemed to carry more meaning. It was as if their lips were imparting a thousand words that neither had the ability to say aloud, as if this were yet another a new language Héloïse was being immersed in. It was as dizzying and bewildering as it had been to start learning English, and when she and Jim broke apart, she stayed silent with her lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, contemplating the meaning of it.

“Héloïse,” said Jim, his voice gentle and doubtful, “are you quite well? Why are you quiet?”

“Oui. J’essaie de penser.”

“You… You’re thinking. What are you thinking?”

It took a little while for Héloïse to understand what she was thinking, but once she did, she knew exactly what words she had to say:

“Je t’aime.”

“Oh.” Jim nodded. “That’s good. I am glad that you like me. I rather like you too. In truth…” He paused, frowning slightly and blinking once. “The truth is, Héloïse, that I love you.”

He looked Héloïse with an expression that was so hopeful and so earnest that she had not the heart to point out his miscomprehension of her words. After all, she had taken this long to comprehend it herself.

“Yes, Jim. I love you, also.”