Author's Notes: I've been itching to get this started, so here it is! I played with the idea of developing minor characters in Harry Potter, and decided on Seamus Finnigan as my victim- mostly because I love the adorable pyromaniac to bits. I developed my OC, Irene Collins, as a means to connect elements from Seamus' story I felt went missing (and also to justify some of his more questionable actions).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this (if it doesn't get lost among the hundreds of thousands of other HP stories). If you like it, please follow for updates! Also, I'd hugely appreciate any feedback I can get! Thanks!
Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Harry Potter or the amazing wizarding world created by J. . All that belongs to me are Irene Collins and her cat. (Though I'm pretty proud to own them anyway- especially her cat.)
A Minor Bird and all chapter title names belong to Robert Frost.
"A Minor Bird" by Robert Frost
I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;
Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.
The fault must partly have been in me.
The bird was not to blame for his key.
And of course there must be something wrong
In wanting to silence any song.
Chapter One: For Once, Then, Something
Irene was beginning to feel impatient, a feeling to which she was far too accustomed at this time of year.
"And don't forget to write often; your letters were far too scarce last year!" Her mother chided.
Irene simply nodded and smiled. If she was going to make it through the platform portal in time, she had to stop her mother from worrying so much. Every year turned up the same farewell routine, no matter how much assurance was given.
"Well I can't very well write you if I haven't gone anywhere, now can I?" Irene teased, laughing lightly.
Her mother blinked several times to clear up the shine of tears forming in her eyes. Irene knew her to be a strong woman, but these departures always seemed to get the best of her. Perhaps it was due to the knowledge that she was sending her only daughter off to another life. After all, it was a life that Irene could never share, but could only give her brief glimpses of it. Even with all the acceptance and love to support her, she lived in a world beyond her grasp- a world filled with magic.
"I will write, mum. I promise." Irene set down her satchel, wrapping her arms around her mother for a proper farewell.
Irene readjusted her carry-on before reaching for the handle of her baggage cart. "I have to go." She couldn't hide the grief in her voice, but the urgency was apparent nonetheless. She didn't enjoy leaving the comfort of her family. In fact, summers home were humbling in all their non-magical-ness. Still, returning to Hogwarts was always exciting; it felt good not having to hide her magic from anyone, to be surrounded by others just like her.
Her mother nodded, lightly smiling and somehow refraining from doting on her any further. "We'll see you again come the holidays." She said, speaking for herself as well as Irene's brother, who was already settled in back at University.
With a glance towards her mother Irene pushed off, heading for the platform portal hidden within King's Cross. She waved with an "I love you", though it came out weaker than anticipated at barely more than a whisper. She trusted her mother could understand as similar waving and a loving smile came straight back as a final send-off.
Time was running out, and she ran through the brick portal without looking back. On the other side, the Hogwarts Express awaited. Irene felt a rush of welcoming comfort wash over her at the sight of it puffing and smoking in anticipation. Witches and Wizards of all ages bustled about as students said goodbye to their magical parents. She didn't mind saying her farewells outside of the real platform. Still, she often wondered what growing up surrounded by magic would be like, to go through childhood always knowing about your abilities.
When her letter was delivered all those years ago, the Collins household had forever been changed. Irene's father, though a wizard, had wanted to live the life of a muggle, and so he had done. He never told Irene's mother of his abilities or about the magical world before he died, so she was quite shaken up the day the letter arrived. The representative wizard who came to deliver the news had to do a lot of explaining that day, the poor man. After having months to soak everything in, Jane Collins accepted the truth and soon anger and confusion gave way to excitement. Together they learned about a world hidden within their own. Even William- her older brother who generally pretended not to care about anything- had taken an interest in the process. Though now that the shock and awe had worn off, he spent the holidays making wizard jokes and stealing every last bag of Jelly Slugs she brought home. Irene usually didn't mind too much. After all, he was the one going to University and working a muggle job while Irene got to have all the fun.
A loud meow caught her attention. She peeked into the small cage sitting atop the rest of her luggage, making sure she hadn't mistaken the noise for another, as there were many other animals being carted around by students. She was greeted by a pair of alert eyes and another impatient meow.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. We'll be there soon enough." Irene reached a finger through the bars of the cage to scratch underneath the chin of her Balinese. Frost was named after her favorite poet, American Robert Frost. Like Robert, her cat had a way with words, and when he wanted to be heard you couldn't get him to shut up. For now he settled for glaring at Irene.
"When we get to the castle, you'll be free to chase mice to your heart's content." She promised. Frost seemed content with that, and curled into a ball on the floor of the cage.
There's no way I'll be getting a good seat now. She thought, rushing to board the train. After searching through several coaches, she gave up on trying to find her friends in Hufflepuff. She stumbled across an empty seat in the next compartment. She shared the space with Gwen Harrison, a Ravenclaw who she knew from 4th year potions. Gwen was a friend, but was rather introverted and quiet, so there wasn't much to talk about. After some light conversation about summer holiday, Gwen returned to her book. Irene decided to change into her dress robes sooner rather than later. When she returned, there was nothing left to be done, and so her thoughts roamed.
She knew that things would be different at Hogwarts this year. And somehow, she had the feeling things would never be the same. After Cedric Diggory's death in the Triwizard Tournament, a fog of paranoia had set in. Her mother had strongly considered keeping her home this year, but with much difficulty Irene had persuaded her otherwise. The rest of her summer had been spent in shock and grief. She hadn't been best mates with Cedric, but she had known him well. A seventh year, he had been 3 years above her, yet always showed her kindness and respect. Irene always used to think someone as handsome as Cedric couldn't be perfect enough to be intelligent, too, yet he had helped her study Transfiguration on more than one occasion. He had often reminded her of William- well, a smarter, kinder version of Will, anyway. Losing Cedric Diggory had felt like losing a brother, and within each house it did feel like family. The Hufflepuff house would be off to a rough start this term.
Following the memorial, whispers of Harry Potter had instantly spread like wildfire. Rumors of every sort made their way around Hogwarts before people split up for the summer. The majority of the Hufflepuff house stood by Harry Potter's claims of his return, save for a few pretentious individuals. Though there had been tension between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff during the Tournament, their house put great value in loyalty and respect. Seeing Potter crying over Cedric's body sent a clear message of those qualities. Looking back, it seemed childish that they had ever doubted his intentions.
"We're here." A meek voice knocked Irene out of her reverie. Gwen was standing, now in her dress robes, looking at her expectantly. Irene gathered her parcel and followed her out.
She walked with Gwen in near silence along the footpath through the woods. She didn't mind the quiet, as she was rather introverted herself. Still, she scanned the trail of students for familiar faces. Finding Susan Bones near the entrance gate, the three girls rode together on the next carriage.
Irene turned to Susan. "Where is everybody?" Although she desperately needed a distraction from her memories, she was genuinely curious.
"Hannah and Ernie spent the ride in the Prefect coach, and Leanne is sitting with Katie Bell and some other Gryffindors. I have no idea where Justin is."
Irene had completely forgotten about her friends becoming newly-appointed Prefects. Hannah Abbott was one of Irene's closest friends, along with Susan and Leanne Thompson. The four girls shared a dormitory together in the Hufflepuff common room, or "the badger-hole" as house members often referred to it as.
"I forgot all about 'Miss Prefect', although I'm not sure how I could have, with how much she talked about it in her letters this summer." Irene joked.
"At least Hannah is modest about it!" Susan added. "Ernie writes as if it was any wonder he'd get the position. I seriously started dreading seeing his owl arrive." Both girls erupted in laughter. Irene could see Gwen smiling beyond the cover of her book. It felt good to laugh with her friends again. If she imagined hard enough, she could almost forget that the events of last year had happened at all.
Later, over dinner in the Great Hall, there was much catching up to be done. Following a warm welcome from Dumbledore, an uptight-looking woman from the Ministry was announced as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Dolores Umbridge had a odd air about her, perky and pink with a dark sort of ferocity underlying her personality. Irene prided herself in being rather intuitive about people, and she felt there was something deeply disturbing about the new professor- well, beyond the fact that she spoke as if to a group of toddlers.
Between bites of roast beef and boiled potatoes, she got to hear even more from Hannah and Ernie about Prefect duties, and learned about a row between Justin and Wayne Hopkins-something about a girl from Beauxbatons and "code violation on the rule of 'dibs'".
Mostly there was talk of Harry Potter. The start-of-term feast didn't possess it's usual cheerfulness; suspicion and gossip were suffocating it. Over at the other end of the Hall, students at the Slytherin table snickered and sneered more intensely than normal. Many from Ravenclaw peeked over shoulders to glimpse at the Gryffindor table, as if they were analyzing an equation or solving a complex puzzle. The tension among Gryffindor was palpable. Harry's friends tried to divert his attention, while others whispered. Some sneered, apparently disgusted with the idea of sharing house-space with a "delusional, attention-seeking liar". Honestly, Irene wondered, how can they be so naïve? There were a few in Hufflepuff who stuck by the rumors, though most of them had parents in high position at the Ministry to fill their ears with skepticism.
Zacharias Smith whispered to Agnes Graham a few benches down. Irene shot him a cold glare, but he simply raised his already-upturned nose and continued his conversation. Zacharias, though somehow sorted into Hufflepuff, was known for being a selfish prick, so not many people listened to him anyway.
After the feast, students retired to the common rooms. Hannah and Ernie escorted all Hufflepuff first-years out of the Hall, leaving the remaining students to file out behind. They walked the familiar route that led near the kitchens, down to where large barrels marked the dormitory entrance. Knocking the passcode incorrectly or on the wrong barrel would get you a soak in vinegar. Irene recalled a particularly memorable occasion in which an unwise Gryffindor had tried to enter, sure he would be the first non-Hufflepuff ever to do so. He couldn't get the smell of vinegar out for weeks, and became known as "Rotten Rupert" for the rest of his time at Hogwarts.
Students began filing in through the entrance. Irene crawled through the barrel to the other side, immediately feeling at home. Hufflepuff Basement was truly like climbing into a badger hole, although it was probably warmer and more comfortable than the abode of an animal. The ceilings were low and nearly ground-deep, and the windows gave a spectacular peek at the outdoors. Plants were abundant and varied- thanks to their head of house, Professor Sprout- so when you took a breath, you were breathing in the purity of nature. Greenery rested on every table and flowed over every shelf. It just always felt so cozy, which was why Irene loved the area so much. The rest of the castle tended to be drafty and cold, but their common room always comfortable and warm to welcome you back after a long day of classes.
When Irene got to her dormitory, Leanne and Susan were already inside unpacking their luggage. She followed suit and opened the luggage awaiting her on the four-poster. Frost appeared from under the bed and rubbed against her leg affectionately. She scooped up the cat and petted his head, a loud purr rumbling from his chest like a motorboat. "Now you suddenly love me again?" She said pointedly.
"What's this all about?" Leanne asked from behind.
"I think my cat has a multi-personality disorder."
"Aren't all cats that way?" She joked, walking up to scratch under Frost's chin. The purring in his chest rumbled even louder.
Leanne was a nice girl, although they hardly ever saw her. When she wasn't in the common room or in classes, she was with Katie Bell. Katie and Leanne had been best mates for years since bonding over Quidditch; both girls played as Chasers for their respective house teams. Irene wholly enjoyed the wizarding sport, although she didn't fly well enough to play herself. Unlike in muggle sporting events, women were seen as equals to men, and all played on the same teams. Flying a broomstick was not dependent on muscle, so gender was irrelevant; if you could hold your own, you were good enough for the pitch. Irene respected that.
"Susan got a new deck of cards, we're going to play Exploding Snap when Hannah gets back- try to get her mind off of everything. You want to play?" Leanne asked.
Irene nodded, bending down to set Frost on the hard-wood floor. Hannah had been closer to Cedric than the rest of them, and even with her Prefect position to distract her, she could use a girl's night in.
Later, the four of them sat in a circle on a mustard-yellow rug on the floor. They often played their own rendition of the magical card game; where the loser of each round had to grab from a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, much to the amusement of the other players. Several rounds later they were out of cards, giggling so hard their sides ached. Irene lost the most rounds out of anyone, but somehow managed to avoid eating too many nasty-flavoured beans; snagging a cinnamon, two grapefruits, bacon, cranberry, and only one that tasted of over-cooked cabbage.
It felt good to climb into bed that night. Somehow she had feared so much worse than how the day had played out. Things had been a bit tense at the feast, and despite holding their own little game night, Hufflepuff house was still unbelievably solemn. But there was no evidence of disaster, the routine went on as usual- things almost seemed normal at Hogwarts. Perhaps this is only the beginning. A lot can happen in a year. Last year was testament to that. Irene thought, the back of her mind nagging, though she desperately hoped she was wrong.
She had to try to be optimistic this year- optimistic and efficient. Their O.W.L. Examinations would take place this year, and she had to work even harder than last year if she was to continue on to N.E.W.T. levels. If she couldn't do that, well, then she could pretty much give up on being a Healer. Future Healers needed to receive at least "Exceeds Expectations" at N.E.W.T. levels exams for Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. She felt confident about her abilities in most all of the subjects, save for Transfiguration and DADA, which she struggled a bit with. Even so, working hard this year was pinnacle to her goals. Before finding out she was a witch, she hadn't been an overly active student, but now having a goal to work towards changed all that. She'd known she'd wanted to be a Healer for years now. When she wanted something badly enough, she fought for it.
There were faint noises as the other girls got situated for sleep. Grabbing her wand off the bedside dresser, Irene dimmed the light coming from the copper lamp hanging above. She left the large quilt at the foot of the bed, for it was still quite warm in the room; Hufflepuff dormitories- being underground- tended to hold in the heat and barricade against the cold. Her wild auburn curls splayed out across the pillow as she adjusted herself. She felt a sudden weight near her feet at the other end of the bed. Cat. Irene thought lazily, already feeling drowsy in the darkness of the room. Frost stealthily made his way towards her, curling up in his favorite spot in the curve of her neck and shoulder. He began purring lightly.
"Goodnight." She whispered, as if her cat could understand English- though sometimes it seemed he could. In some ways, when she talked to him, it seemed like she was trying to assure herself of things. Like she needed to hear the words no one else would say.
"Everything's going to be okay." She told herself, just as she was drifting off. "Things can't possibly get worse." Just for a moment, if only for a moment, she believed it.
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