"What is that most harmonious sound?" Minerva McGonagall murmured to herself and the young student serving detention. He was an elder Hufflepuff, one not known for being a troublemaker. McGonagall had become suspicious upon catching him charming a blank strip of parchment to appear as a spitball and being prepared to use a projectile spell on it. The whole thing seemed almost contrived… It was especially peculiar to hear him suggest detention when asked rhetorically what his punishment should be. The rest of the class—the Hufflepuffs, mainly, as the Ravenclaws weren't particularly fooled—saw it as a challenge. With her reputation slightly at stake, McGonagall agreed with raised brows.
"I dunno, but I think it's coming from outside the castle," the boy said—he tugged McGonagall out of her memories. He had looked up some time prior to speaking which led the Transfiguration Professor to gaze into deep brown eyes.
"Outside the castle?" McGonagall repeated slowly. She glanced at her watch to find that it was evening, which meant two things—her student was free to leave and also that no student should be roaming free on the grounds. Mostly the students still had the castle to range during this time in the evening, but the grounds were off limit with few exceptions. She looked up again. "David, you are free to go."
He smiled that charmingly warm Hufflepuff smile and bowed his head and shoulders in respect.
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," he replied gently. "I'm curious now, though. Could I tag 'long 'til the end of the castle just to try 'nd catch a glimpse a' what's goin' on?"
McGonagall cocked a brow as she looked down at him over her glasses. "Well, I suppose it can do no harm. It sounds like a simple flute—most likely Hagrid stretching his musical muscle. Just to the end of the castle."
David nodded, his dark hair falling in waves over his forehead. He was still smiling on amiably, but McGonagall wondered if there was a spark of mischief behind it. Many thought the Hufflepuff house incapable of such feats, but she knew better. Hufflepuffs were indeed noble and honest, but often knew that pinch of mischief could assist one in reaching an honorable end.
The two closed their books—David had been made to read up on the difference between transfiguring plant and animal beings—and walked out into the chilly walkway. The sound led them to a bridge over the exit that continued onto the lawn before Hagrid's hut and the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid was not sitting out on his steps tooting away on a flute. Instead, a shimmering, thin shape of metal sparkled and shined in the distance as the keys moved. It was right at the line of trees, playing a very luring tune.
"Off to bed with you, now," McGonagall managed as she began stepping down the stairs. David waited until she had made her way down and was walking upon the lawn before stepping behind a pillar and taking out his wand. He scrawled the words "Curious Kitten Succes" and blew it away, watching it fly around the corner before making his way down the hall.
Down at the Quidditch pitch Madame Hooch was throwing a quaffle down the field and watching an older Ravenclaw boy chase after it swiftly on his broom. He would catch it and fly back much like a muggle making a dog play fetch. The student had had a detention for circling the pitch on a broom during class when he was supposed to be doing sprints. He had behaved during the detention—sanding the school brooms—and had agreed happily to play a game with Hooch when she had jokingly suggested it.
He had seemed almost hesitant to leave…
"Good one, Marcus!" the Brooms Mistress called when the student had performed a particularly complex twist-and-flip to catch the Quidditch ball.
"Thanks, Madame Hooch!" he hollered back as he flew forward on his broom. Halfway to the instructor he stopped and turned, straining his ears. "Hey, what's that?"
The woman flew to him, skidding to a turning stop to parallel him. She laughed. "Sounds like a flute, eh?"
Marcus nodded and with a flick of his wand sent the Quaffle back to the Quidditch trunk. He turned back to his instructor, searching her with his grayish blue eyes. "Think we should check it out? Just to peek on it. Then I'd have to be off to the common room for some Transfigurations work."
"She's working you hard, hmm?" Hooch teased while answering him by simply beckoning him to follow her. He followed and grinned.
"Might as well be wielding a whip on us."
Hooch laughed and thought, wouldn't that be fun?
They were soon at the edge of Hagrid's hut by the Forbidden Forest and could glimpse, a far ways down the line, an enchanted flute. Madame Hooch looked over with an expression that read: there, now your Ravenclaw curiosity has been laid to rest, go do your homework.
He offered a peace sign, the characteristic Ravenclaw grin, and a slight nod before shooting off towards the castle. When his feet touched the stone floor he spelled his broom away in time to catch the floating words "Curios Kitten Success" on his wand. Smiling, he sent the reply "Hawk Eyes Aware" by writing the words and sending them along under the well-laid stones with a tap to one of the cracks between two.
Hooch flew forward, ducking her head and torso to gain a little extra speed just for fun. It was a short flight, but the first solitary one she'd had in a while.
Upon reaching the floating flute she noted a small tabby cat walking stiffly towards the instrument. Grinning, Hooch dropped her broom and flew to the feline—as a swift brown hawk.
The cat let out a fierce hiss as a hawk landed upon her back. Upon stopping to look back, she began to purr while still offering an annoyed look reading: oww, those talons are sharp. The hawk pecked her affectionately on the crest of her head and flapped off, proffering instead to hop comically along beside.
The tabby meowed contentedly and then, with a flick of her tail, pounced upon the mighty little amber-eyed hawk. The bird gave a loud squawk and morphed suddenly into a tall, short-haired woman with identical eyes. She happened to be carrying the tabby, holding it against her chest and stroking its belly gently. It purred and rubbed against the woman's bosom in response.
"It felt wonderful," Hooch admitted as she petted the cat's forehead with her thumb. The cat nodded and lifted her paw to touch the Broom Mistress' cheek. The instructor bent over to whisper into the cat's ear, "I'll carry you in whichever form you prefer."
The feline morphed into an emerald-cloaked professor with a large, idiosyncratic hat. She rubbed her ear slightly against Hooch's shoulder and then let it rest there, looking up, "That tickled."
Hooch chuckled and continued walking as if the weight hadn't increased at all. Minerva kissed the Flying Instructor's collarbone and snuggled in, purring on her exhales much like the cat that was her inner beast.
The flute continued playing a few paces away. Now it was dipping up and down in the air as if the invisible piper were dancing. The tune had changed from the original song, one that depicted bird- and cat-like curiosity.
This song was flowing steadily, more like two squirrels that had gone through the chase and finally found some time together. Minerva smiled and leaned from her lover's hold, landing gracefully on the tip of one foot and walking gently forward. She had always appreciated music. Flutes, particularly, had wonderful sounds. This flute was deftly enchanted, which meant two things: one, the enchanted flute was creating a horrendously romantic atmosphere and two…
The enchanter, in order to charm the flute so well, had to have some sort of background as a flutist. Who at Hogwarts knew how to play the flute so well?
"McMin, it's moving," Hooch noted with a hint of curiosity in her voice. "I could fly over it and follow, if you want."
"Or we could hold hands and walk together," Minerva suggested, slightly damning the flute for her uncontrollable romantic mood. She added, "It doesn't look harmful. Nothing menacing, certainly."
Nonetheless she whipped out her wand and ran a few spells to check it for any dark presence. When she found none, she nodded, smiled, and threw her hand to the side for Hooch.
"It'll be our own little adventure."
"You know I'm in, love," Xiomara said with a slow smile as she laced her fingers with Min's. And there they were, two crazy old women out for a walk in an evil-infested forest following an enchanted flute.
They didn't hear the slight shuffling to their right.
The flute led them to a surprisingly beautiful opening lined with tulip trees and beeches with patches of pachysandra. A magnolia tree sat in the center alongside a redbud tree, both fully in bloom. A variety of dipping, undulating grasses of multiple colors filled the little area as a multitude of different flowers. The scene was intoxicating even as they had to use the light of their wands to view it.
At the center the flute stopped, between the redbud and the magnolia. It played diligently as the two caught up, then softened to a lower volume as if to let the woman talk.
"What's this about, do you think?" Hooch inquired, walking up to the flute and running her finger along its side. It made a slight squeak of a note and returned to the song. Minerva scanned the scene again and caught sight of a flickering parchment.
Somehow, things began to click. A pair of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff boys both with detentions, same age, different teachers, not generally troublemakers… Now, a flutist—a good one—and someone who apparently knew about herbology. And, of course, a few good planners…
"It appears that some of our students may have set us up for a date," McGonagall answered with a smile at the flute. Seemingly at those words the notes flew to the Transfigurations Professor. She untied the ribbon and unfolded the note.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue;
We set up this date,
Just for you.
(Sorry it's not original. Please don't give us a detention. Time for bed, of course. Enjoy your evening.
The font was charmed to continually change, apparently to keep the identity hidden. Instead, it accomplished the opposite.
Minerva McGonagall only knew one Hufflepuff girl who could pull off so many fonts and find such perfect plants, and she happened to be with a Raveclaw who was rumored to be an advanced flutist quite adept in the area of enchantment…
The two happened to be friends with a pair of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw boys.
"Yes," smiled Minerva. She handed over the note. "We've been set up."
"Wish I could thank them," Hooch replied admiringly, walking to Minerva and embracing the woman. "Our little angels."
A half an hour later in the Ravenclaw common room there was much celebrating. There was celebrating anyway, as the exams were all over and most of the Ravenclaws celebrated their existence. A small group in a warm corner celebrated something else. Two wore the yellow and red that gave them away as visitors.
There were two girls—the Ravenclaw in the Hufflepuff's lap—and two boys—the same combination of houses—sat arm-in-arm and leg-in-leg. The lot of them were sixth years celebrating the success of their setup. It had all started with a conversation about who was gay or in a same-sex relationship at school.
"It went perfectly well," the Ravenclaw girl, Morag, remarked, smiling wide.
"Thanks to your amazing playing," her girlfriend complimented heartily. The two boys nodded.
"We knew it," they said. Both smiled at each other.
"McGonagall and Ho-och sitting in a tree—"
"K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
"First comes love—"
"Then comes marriage—"
"Then comes pleasure in a horse-drawn carriage!"
The group cracked up, exchanging high fives and good cheer.