Poison Fairytales
Chapter One: The Water Asked Me For A Kiss…
By: Jondy Macmillan
A/N: Abra Cadabra, they're all alive again! And this is true, for I am the god of Giddy Brew. Jeffy told me to write this.
"Damnit, why do I find guys wearing ripped jeans so drop dead sexy?" Harper Valente demanded of no one in particular.
"I think you're touched in the head, personally. And don't tell me you find all guys in ripped jeans to be hot," Harper's newest friend, Avarick Tyler drawled.
"No, I suppose not. The ones in bands…the ones with the muscular chests and the skinny waists," Harper admitted, "And I'm a sucker for tattoos, lately."
"Ah, so I take that you've seen Merlin today?" Avarick raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
Harper blushed, "Well. Yeah."
"I knew it," punching her fist into her hand triumphantly, Avarick crowed, "I can read you like an open book."
"Speaking of books," a quiet voice piped in, "Can you two keep it down? I'm trying to study."
Both girls glanced up in surprise at the girl seated cross legged on the floor across from them. She had long, wispy hair the color of moonlight and dark, dangerous black eyes. Defensively, Harper exclaimed, "Aw, Simone! We've only been here three days. What is there to study?"
"If you'd have paid attention in class," Simone's eyes flashed angrily, "You would know that."
Harper and Avarick exchanged cross looks. They were the latest additions to Willowcrest Manor, along with eight other students, including Simone. Of those eight students, neither girl could understand how they'd been saddled with Miss Prissy Platinum Haired Bitch for a roommate. The other two girls in the group had gotten a room to themselves. Why had they gotten stuck in a triple?
Willowcrest was…well, it sure wasn't Hogwarts.
Their first day there, the principal had regaled them with a speech that probably described Willowcrest better than either girl could.
"You know why howlers are called howlers? No, it's not just because they're loud and potentially embarrassing if opened in public," the forty something old man had paused here, chuckling at himself, "There was a man, the legends say, with a booming voice. Eventually, he ended up working with the ministry post; he helped them establish the current owl system. The lovely crimson red letters called Howlers came to exist as his brain child, a by product of the initial system. However, Thaddeus Howler did something much greater than that. He liked to found things, you see. Thaddeus Howler was the first and only great founder of this place, the Willowcrest Academy of Defensive and Offensive Magic. More fondly called Auror School."
Willowcrest was only a three year establishment. Solely the best and the brightest were accepted, and even then the top two or three, if any at all, would make it past the rigorous schooling and be allowed to work at the ministry of magic.
Harper Valente had worked her witchy butt off to get here. Hell if she would let Miss Simone Van Rennselaer screw up her chances at what she'd dreamed of becoming ever since she'd first found out there was a Hogwarts. Primly, Simone returned to studying, surprised that Harper hadn't come back with some immature retort.
"We have class in a few minutes," Avarick glanced at Harper's outfit. Technically, Willowcrest required all its students to wear a uniform. The uniform consisted of a simple black and white skirt and gray sweater set for girls, black and white pants and sweater set for boys, plus black and white patterned robes. Most of the students out right refused to wear it, and oddly enough, the teachers were okay with that.
Some of the students at Willowcrest had come from other wizarding schools, such as Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, or Shimmercobble out in America. Most of them were fresh out of Hogwarts, and many of the newest students still felt allegiance to their old houses. Avarick had been a Gryffindor, and to show it off she wore a red and gold pleated skirt with a mostly unbuttoned white collared shirt. Harper envied her new friends immense bust line, peachy complexion, and her soft, silky veil of honey colored hair. Today, Avarick had tied her hair back in two long pigtails. She looked like a school girl gone bad, which, as far as Harper could tell was pretty close to the truth.
Harper had never known Avarick personally when she was in Hogwarts. She'd been a Ravenclaw, leaning towards the antisocial side when it came to other houses. Harper had high, taut cheekbones and olive colored skin that was a nice shade of brown from her summer hols. She often felt that all her limbs were much too long, like a giant spider. She had a mole under her left eye that she absolutely despised. While in Hogwarts she'd worn her hair in thick black dreadlocks, but now her much shorter tresses resided in a loose ponytail. She wore a black t-shirt that read 'Drama' in bold white lettering across the chest and had different shaped white arrows pointing all around the shirt. One even wrapped around her back and came up between her shoulder blades. She also wore faded blue jeans, using her old Ravenclaw tie as a belt. She was taller than both Avarick and Simone by at least three inches. Speaking of Simone, the blonde had come straight from Beauxbatons, which might have been one of the reasons Harper and Avarick found her so distasteful.
"Which class do we have today?"
"Muggle relations," Avarick rolled her eyes, mouthing 'stupid' to her friend. She didn't say it out loud for fear Simone would start to lecture them on the importance of the class.
The classrooms were in the basement of the old mansion. Altogether the place was three stories tall, excluding the basement. The three floors comfortably fit the entire school's thirty five students that had made it through Willowcrest's practical and written entrance exams. Of all three years of students, it was said that about three might become true aurors.
Simone took a seat right up front, but Avarick and Harper made their way carefully to the back of the class. Harper liked the desks, which were old white oak with intricately carved legs. Three boys were chatting animatedly in front of them.
One, a brunette with dark gray eyes was saying, "Man, why do we need to relate to muggles? We're going to be dark wizard catchers, not muggle babysitters."
"I'm not sure," another boy said, and she recognized him to be Merlin Pembroke, the boy in the ripped jeans that she thought was too bloody sexy. He had short blonde hair and warm chocolate colored eyes.
Avarick nudged Harper, pointing to the two boys sitting to their right, exchanging worried looks. Harper knew them well; they had been in Ravenclaw with her. The twins' names were Chauncey and Conrad Hargrove. Both stood at six foot three, had pale skin, and long red hair streaked gold like autumn leaves. The only way Harper could tell them apart was that Conrad had dark blue eyes and his hair back in a ponytail while Chauncey wore his loose, falling into his much lighter eyes. It was like trying to tell the difference between the ocean and the sky when night was falling too quickly.
Avarick demanded, "What's with them?"
"Beats me," Harper shrugged, leafing through the pages of her text. This class didn't look to be all that interesting.
She changed her mind when the teacher stepped inside. He was definitely attractive. Barely thirty, with an aristocratic face and dreamy blue eyes, he was tall and intelligent looking. He had bright red hair arranged in carefully crafted spikes, broad shoulders, and wiry muscles. Unlike most of the teachers, he wasn't dressed in robes but in a black muggle suit that fit in all the right places. A pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of the twins, both of whom buried their heads in their arms, turning red.
The teacher smirked charismatically, "Before I start, I'd like to give everyone in the class permission to give those two hell."
The twins both raised their heads indignantly and chorused, "You can't single us out."
"I'm the professor. I can do whatever I want," he said calmly. Harper noticed a long, jagged scar running along his neck as he turned, "I'm Casey Hargrove."
"Our big brother," the twins moaned bitterly, "Why couldn't you be cool, like Cerulean?"
"I make more money than Cerulean," Casey objected.
"But he gets more girls," Conrad rejoined, and Harper noticed that with his deep blue eyes and strong jaw he'd be the spitting image of the professor when he got older.
"And he has better hair," Chauncey added.
"I don't think its girls Cer is interested in," Casey snorted, and then realized he didn't look very professional, "Now. Muggle relations. I doubt you think that this is an interesting topic. After all, being an auror is all about being badass, right?"
The class gave an appreciative chuckle. Casey smiled, "I know it's what you all think. It's what I thought when I came here. I sat in that seat," he pointed to the brunette boy's chair, "And made fun of the teacher when his back was turned. However, I've been an auror for six years, and was apprenticed here two before that. Oddly enough, we deal with more muggle related problems than dark wizard ones."
Merlin ran a hand through his thick blonde hair and raised hi hand, "Sir, what made you want to be an auror in the first place?"
A dark look crossed Casey's face, "Dark wizards killed someone very dear to me. Three someones, actually. I always forget Elanore- they weren't after her, you see, she was a pureblood. And I didn't see Frank…"
The class was obviously waiting for him to continue, and he sighed, "When I was seventeen, three of my closest friends were muggle born. We looked too closely into things better left alone. That's why we- they were singled out. My friends, that is. They accidentally killed one of the pureblooded ones when she tried to protect Bobby…"
A girl with dark hair cut like a pixy that Harper vaguely recalled as a Slytherin spoke out, "Do you mean Bobby Stone, the writer?"
"Yes," Casey laughed, "I always forget that he's the famous one now."
Slightly chastened by Casey's sad story, Conrad said, "When have you been famous?"
"I was in a pretty popular band when I was younger," Casey grinned.
"Sure, you used to rock out the show," Chauncey mocked his older brother.
Casey shrugged modestly, "I played guitar. I always have been good with my hands."
"I bet," Avarick whispered.
A slight boy sitting near the front said in a snotty voice, "You know, you're not very professional for a teacher."
Brightening, Casey said gleefully, "You think? I was worried I'd come off as old and stodgy like the other teachers. I'm only twenty seven, you know."
Harper thought back to the other three teachers she'd met. With the exception of the stout, pompous Mr. Buckland, who taught potions, she'd yet to meet a stuffy teacher here. Her charms teacher had been curvy and seductive, and surprisingly volatile when anyone made a mistake. The defense and offense professor had been a rolling ball of energy. She'd yet to go through a transfiguration class (here they called it Advanced Alchemy), but she doubted the only remaining professor would be boring.
"Anyway," Casey was proclaiming, "You should have fun while you're here. Willowcrest is hard, yes, but this isn't Hogwarts. We're all adults here; none of the professors are your keepers. I'd like to make this class as exciting as possible."
The rest of the class was pretty tame, and despite Casey's claims, it was difficult to make practical telephone usage exciting. Well, Avarick and the rest of the purebloods seemed to be interested. Harper spent the rest of the class examining her nails.
Out of her class, there was only one other muggle born. Most of the muggle born students at Hogwarts liked the idea of becoming an auror, but weren't willing to go through the three years of extra schooling to pursue a job that they may or may not get, and if they were to get might potentially end their lives. Harper had jumped at the chance to be in school for longer. She hadn't had any idea what she wanted to do with her life, as long as she didn't have to go home. Her dad was a drunk who was absent more often than not. Her mom worked over time at a hospital. She didn't know anyone in her neighborhood, and her only muggle friend lived hours away. When she went home for the summer, the local kids called her the witch girl with the freaky eyes.
After Casey let them out of muggle relations, the students were herded across the hall, for their first ever Advanced Alchemy class. Casey had warned them that they might find the next professor to be slightly scary, but he refused to explain how. Instead he'd patted each of the twins on the head and grinned enigmatically.
The professor was seated at a desk near the front of the class, feet on top of it, tapping his fingers to a rhythmic beat. He was lanky, but muscular. His legs were incredibly long. He had shaggy brown hair and honest blue eyes.
"Welcome, welcome. I'm Noah Weslen, you can all call me Noah, or Wes, if you prefer. I'll be teaching you Advanced Alchemy, or transfiguration. It's all the same to me."
"He's cute too," Avarick whispered to Harper. Unfortunately they were in the front row, and Noah saw her mouth moving.
"Girls, no talking. We're here to prevent nightfall over all humanity, muggle and wizard alike," Noah said seriously, "We all want to stay alive to see daybreak. That means you pay attention in my class, or you get out."
Properly chastised, Avarick mumbled an apology.
"Now, I know you can all do basic transfiguration. I know many of you have the skill to turn yourself into half an animal at will. You can turn yourself into shadow. These are just a few of the skills taught at the highest level of all the wizarding schools. If anyone is unsure that they have the skill required to do any of these tricks, see me after class."
"There are three principals that an auror has to learn. Stealth, potency, and agility. This year, we're going to learn the more advanced aspects of transfiguration, pertaining to stealth. Each and every one of you will complete the curriculum if it kills you. If you can't turn yourself invisible, we will have extra lessons. If you have difficulty becoming a registered animagus, we will practice until you get it right."
"Excuse me sir, did you say animagus? I didn't realize that this course required one to become animagi," petite, perfect Simone said softly, a look of distaste on her face.
"Yes. Every teacher here is animagi."
"Whoa, what's Professor Dusserre turn into?" Merlin asked lewdly. Harper couldn't imagine sultry Audra Dusserre becoming any type of animal.
"A lynx," Noah said with narrowed eyes.
"I would have thought she'd be a fox," Chauncey joked with a perverted smile.
"Professor, what do you turn into?"
Noah smiled serenely, "A grizzly bear. Absolutely useless for stealth projects. It's always good when you need an extra hand or body heat though. I prefer it to being a butterfly, like Professor Chase."
"I wonder what our brother is," half the class overheard Conrad murmur to Chauncey.
"You ask him. I'm not going to speak to the slimy git for a week," Chauncey muttered back.
"Boys," Noah said reprovingly, "We're going to jump right into the practical theory of the process of animagi transformations. A little boring, I know, but the head honcho's tell me I'm not allowed to let you try it till you know the rules."
"Kind of like having to know the rules to break them," Merlin reasoned.
"No, more like not ever breaking the rules. Ever," Noah frowned.
"He's kind of anal," Avarick whispered to Harper, "steamy, but anal."
After class, the students were herded out for lunch. They could eat in the small dining room in Willowcrest, or head out to the local town.
"Do you reckon we should head out? I was really pining for Indian food, but it looks pretty nasty," Avarick said doubtfully.
"They made umbrellas for a reason," Harper retorted.
"True. I'll go grab one from the room," Avarick smiled and darted up the stairs.
"Hey. Hey you, girl!"
Harper blinked and spun around, blue-green eyes meeting dark gray, "Hey, I'm Ben."
"Ah," she recognized the brunette boy the twins had been talking to in muggle relations, "I'm Harper Valente."
"Benvolio, are you hitting on the Harpy?" Chauncey came up behind her, leaning an elbow on her shoulder.
Harper pushed it off, "I-"
Conrad came up behind Ben, "Ah, Benvolio Asher, meet Harper Valente; beautiful, but deadly."
"She turned down our advances."
"All of them."
"Quite often, actually."
"It was cruel."
"We're both so bitter," Chauncey agreed with his brother.
"We were already introduced," Harper told the twins. Then she raised an eyebrow at Ben, "Benvolio?"
"My parents liked Shakespeare," the brunette shrugged sheepishly.
"No shame in that," Conrad muttered.
"Hey, Harper, are you going to lunch?" Chauncey inquired, "In the village?"
"Ah, Avarick and I are," the dark haired girl admitted.
"Can we come?" Conrad grinned, "Merlin stayed after with Professor Weslen for extra help, and that Phinny dude is a great berk. The other three girls in our class are sopping wet. No offense to your roommate…"
"Simone's evil," Harper said flatly.
"Alrighty then," Chauncey cheered, "Ben, you want to come?"
"I didn't invite any of you," Harper frowned, "We're going for Indian food."
"I love Indian," Chauncey smiled, "Have you seen the girls they have in India? Gorgeous."
"Mate, you're a bit spun in the head," Ben shook his head, "Is it really okay if we come?"
"I guess. Avarick thinks you're all gods, so she won't mind," Harper said noncommittally.
Avarick lightly smacked her friend, having returned with two simple black umbrellas, "Don't tell them that."
Calmly, the blonde then turned to the boys and said, "Avarick Tyler. Charmed, I'm sure."
"We sure are," both twins chorused and stepped up to kiss the hand she'd extended. Benvolio nodded in greeting.
Harper frowned, "You didn't kiss my hand."
"Shut it, Valente, we've forgotten you already in the face of this gorgeous specimen," Chauncey said smoothly. Avarick giggled, delighted.
While Avarick was making nice with Benvolio and Chauncey, Conrad pulled Harper aside, "Hey, is it really okay?"
"I told Ben it was. Don't you listen?" Harper said, trying not to sound irritated.
"It doesn't sound like it's okay," he retorted.
"It is."
"Harper, I missed you," Conrad smiled weakly, "I don't want to fight."
"Neither do I," Harper admitted, "Come on. I promise it's okay."
Chauncey opted to huddle beneath one umbrella with Avarick. The shorter girl had difficulty keeping the umbrella from bumping the top of his head, but he didn't volunteer to hold it for her until his brother elbowed him in the side. Conrad felt more comfortable walking in the rain, but Harper forced him to get beneath her umbrella with Benvolio. The mud on the path stuck to the soles of their shoes. It was slow going.
When they reached the town, which was more a village than a town, and more farmland than village, everyone was glad to be out of the constant downpour. The town was barely bigger than the Willowcrest grounds. In the dreary haze of rain, the five passed brightly lit storefronts. The street lamps tried to lend some cheer to the thick veil of water, but they were miserably failing. Near the end of a cobblestone alley was Nataraja. Harper and Avarick had found this place their first day at Willowcrest, and befriended the hostess for discounts.
"Hi, Shilpa," Avarick greeted a small girl with dark hair and almond eyes. Shilpa MacDougal had been ecstatic to see girls her age in town. Half Indian, a quarter Japanese, and a quarter Scottish, Shilpa was one of the most beautiful girls any of them had ever seen. Her parents owned Nataraja, and she let both girls eat at half price if they promised to frequent the place at least once a week.
"Merlin, Harper. You didn't tell me there'd be so many babes on this expedition," Chauncey eyed Shilpa with lust in his eyes. Avarick frowned; all the attention he'd been giving her was lost.
"Sharpay, is it?" the redhead extended his hand to Shilpa, who was looking rather sexy in a black baby doll dress and dangly golden star earrings. She was smart enough to roll her eyes and refuse it.
"Shilpa," she said dryly, raising an eyebrow.
"We don't know him," Harper said calmly.
"Easy for you to pretend that," Conrad muttered indignantly, "What am I supposed to do?"
"Can we have the booth in the corner?" Avarick wondered.
Shilpa smiled, "Sure!"
Once they were seated with menus, Harper realized that Ben had been pretty quiet the entire trip down the hill. Now he was staring vacantly at the perfect pink rose on the table.
"So what's your story?"
"Ah, me?" Ben looked startled.
"No, the rose," Harper grinned cheekily, "Yes, you. I never saw you around Hogwarts, and you don't sound French, Slavic, or American."
"…I was home schooled."
"They do that?" Avarick asked, shocked.
"Sure," Conrad piped up, "We're all home schooled till we go to Hogwarts, right? Some parents are just a little too protective to ever stop."
"Like mine," Ben muttered solemnly, "I practically had to threaten suicide to have them let me come here."
"You're a momma's boy?"
"No," Ben said stiffly, "I'm just sheltered."
"Momma's boy," Avarick echoed.
"His mom's dead, but good show," Chauncey applauded.
Darkly, Harper muttered, "You're an arse, Chaunce."
"Is she? Oh, I'm so sorry!" Avarick exclaimed.
"It's okay. The reason my dad didn't want me to leave was to look after my little sister."
"You have a sister?" Conrad perked up.
"Is she hot?" Chauncey inquired.
Ignoring Chauncey, Ben turned to Conrad and said softly, "Rosalind. She's sixteen."
"That's adorable. My big brother doesn't get that look in his eyes when he talks about me," Avarick said accusingly.
"That's because he doesn't like you," Harper joked.
"Aw, that's mean," Avarick pouted, but she cheered up when the waiter came to take their order.
"How was it?"
"How was what?"
"You're first day teaching. Don't get fresh with me, Hargrove," Noah Weslen growled, pounding his fist against the desk.
Casey sighed, "It was fine. My brothers are attending. Mum failed to mention that."
"Ah, the redheaded twins. I thought I saw a family resemblance. Talkative little buggers."
"I suppose. I actually don't know them that well. We're almost ten years apart in age. They were about nine when I was in sixth year. It was fun teasing them though. When did we get old, d'you reckon?"
"Speak for yourself," Noah said gruffly.
"You know, I liked you much better when you were flamboyant and obnoxious."
"I liked you much better when you were an asshole," Noah smiled cheekily, a bit of his old self shining through, "Oh wait, you still are."
"They brought it up."
"What?"
"They brought it up. What happened. They asked me why I became an auror."
"Why did you?" Noah asked casually.
"You have to ask? Sixth year?"
"Seventh year for me, Hargrove."
"Prue, Elanore, and Frank," Casey stated simply, "I still can't believe they're gone. It's been ten fucking years, and I still can't believe it."
"Neither can I," Noah said softly.
Casey wondered aloud, "Do you miss him?"
"Do you miss her?" Noah countered.
"Prue was…" Casey shook his head sadly.
"Frank was…" Noah did the same, "Do you have a cigarette?"
"They made me promise not to bring them into the school. Said it'd encourage the students."
Noah stared at the redhead blankly.
"Hold on a sec," Casey muttered, digging under his desk. He pulled out a pack, "I thought you didn't go in for this muggle crap."
"Yeah well. You brought up a sore subject," Noah lit the cigarette with a flick of his wand.
Casey studied the slow burn of white paper before lighting his own cigarette, "Sorry mate."
"This doesn't make us friends, you understand."
"Mm."
"It's just that Wilhelm's a bastard, Audra's a slut with boundary issues, and I really can't follow what Chalcedony says," Noah breathed, "It's refreshing to have someone who can carry on a civil conversation."
"What about the band?"
"No offense, but since your brother joined up, Polaris and Orpheus have been to busy to dick around with me. Bastards."
"Cerulean's like that," Casey breathed, "A bit of a Nazi, actually."
"Right. So what do you think of the rest of the kids? They seem different than the other years; not that you would know that," Noah said thoughtfully.
"They seem nice," Casey shrugged indifferently.
"Did you see the blonde? Pembroke? I would shag him in a minute."
"Urgh. Too much information, Weslen."
"There wasn't a single girl in that class you were interested in? Please, please don't tell me you're interested in one of the other teachers. Charming Audra, perhaps?" Noah looked slightly offended at the thought.
Casey sighed and took a deep drag of his cigarette, "No. She seems pretty interested in me. Dragged me into a broom closet the other day. She's pretty strong."
"Hargrove," Noah took a deep breath, "It wouldn't kill you to pick a pretty girl and settle down."
"Hey. I've dated girls. I just haven't found the right one," Casey replied defensively, "Anyway, what are you, my brother?"
"Nah, if I was one of your brothers, you wouldn't listen to me. I remember you ten years ago. Running around, flipping off the entire world."
Casey smiled in remembrance, and Noah continued, "It was just a suggestion. Hoo boy, she really screwed you up good. This is why I date guys."
"I don't see you settling down," Casey said casually.
"Yeah, well. All the guys you meet in our line of work are evil, straight, or nerdy."
"Go for the nerdy ones."
"Easy for you to say," Noah sighed, "They're just not Frank."
"I know what you mean," Casey laughed without any humor, "I know exactly what you mean."
"The end is nigh, Hargrove," Noah shook his head, "At least for our love lives. Has been since seventh year."
"Sixth," Casey corrected, and there really wasn't anything left to say.
The next day, Avarick was bouncing around their dorm room like crazy. Not even Simone's nasty attitude could get her to stop, and the French girl had left for the small library in town to study up before class. Harper was only half paying attention to her roommate, the rest of her focused on the music floating out of her earphones. She only had one in her ear, and it wasn't nearly enough to drown out the blonde's hyper ranting. Still, it was nice that unlike Hogwarts, Willowcrest was not spelled against muggle inventions.
"I can't believe we have such cute friends!" Avarick squealed, "I mean we really hit the payload here."
"It's not like we have much choice. There are only ten of us. Have you noticed, the older kids won't even acknowledge us?" Harper asked indignantly.
"We don't see them that often," Avarick said as way of excusing it. It was true; the older kids had all their classes on the second and third floors, as well as their dorms. Mostly they only saw them during lunch and dinner, but they rarely spoke to their newest classmates.
"Hey Harper?"
"Mmm," the dark haired girl acknowledged.
"What's the deal with you and Conrad? He was the non-perverted one, right? I keep getting the two mixed up," Avarick said thoughtfully.
"It's Conrad," Harper smiled slightly. This was the first time she'd seen Avarick so scatter brained since they'd been introduced. It was obvious she hadn't had many boys as friends back at Hogwarts.
Avarick's eyes lit up, "Yeah, Conrad. What's the deal between you two?"
"We used to go out," Harper replied simply.
"Wait, go out as in, hot and heavy making out for a week or two, or as in long term relationship lovey dovey stuff?"
Since she seemed genuinely curious, Harper removed her other earphone, "You really want to know?"
"I really, really, really want to know. Ooh, is it scandalous?"
Harper rolled her eyes, "Not at all. We became best friends first year. We were inseparable for a while. Fourth year we both got involved with other people, but then we realized we weren't really happy without each other. We were together through fifth, sixth, and seventh year."
Entranced, Avarick asked, "What happened?"
"Geez," Harper pushed back her bangs, "I sound like a bad romance novel. Conrad got accepted to Willowcrest. I didn't. Well, I did, but I was on the waiting list. Things just fell apart. He cheated on me."
"That jerk!" Avarick exclaimed.
"No, no," Harper said fondly, "I cheated on him too."
"You bitch."
"Yeah," she bit her lip, "I suppose. At the time, I think I wanted to get back at him. For being smarter than me, maybe? For cheating, obviously. I don't know. My relationship with Conrad seemed too confusing. It was like…finding your soul mate, but not knowing what to do with him. Neither of us were ready to stick to one person."
"So you think Conrad is your soul mate?"
"No. Not at all. We loved each other, but neither of us was ready to be in love. We're young. We want to play around."
"Isn't that going to be awkward though? Being friends with him and dating other guys?" Avarick inquired.
"I don't know. I hope not, because I think I fancy Ben. Just a bit."
"That could be trouble," Avarick warned.
"I like trouble. Besides, I never planned on becoming friends with Conrad while here. I'm not going to let the fact that I am stop me from having fun," Harper winked.
When it came time for class, Harper and Avarick met the boys in front of the Charms classroom.
"What are you wearing?" Conrad demanded when he saw them.
Harper was wearing an oversized black sweater with silver diamonds patterned across the front and bright red ugg style ankle boots. And nothing else that was visible. She grinned, "Relax, I'm wearing shorts."
"Very short shorts," Avarick observed.
"And what's your excuse?" Chauncey eyed Avarick bawdily.
Avarick wore a bright red mini dress made of some sort of thin, clingy material. The hem barely touched her upper thighs. Her white sneakers made the outfit a little less dressy, but no less revealing.
"What's wrong with my dress?" Avarick demanded.
"It's a little skimpy. Not that I mind," Chauncey assured her.
Avarick reeled back her fist and punched him, dead on between the eyes.
"What the hell was that for?" Chauncey yelped, clutching his face.
Avarick shrugged, "You can't hit on me after you spent all of lunch yesterday hitting on Shilpa."
"You didn't have to hit me for it!"
"This girl's a bit off her rocker. I'd watch out; she might come after you with a kitchen knife while you sleep," Conrad leaned in and whispered confidentially.
Amused, Harper replied, "I'll be sure to watch my back."
Benvolio had watched the entire exchange with a slight smile.
"You just watch, she'll make him her bitch by the end of the year," Benvolio told Harper and Conrad.
"Aw, fuck you man," Chauncey retorted. Avarick had a small, evil smile on her face that assured the others what Ben said was true.
"You know, rather than that Indian place, we should all go to the pub in town. We'll get some beer and lunch. Sing songs, be jolly?" Avarick suggested.
"You don't want to hear Harper sing," Conrad winced.
"I was just about to say the same for you," the dark haired girl retorted.
"Who said we want to go to lunch with you, anyhow?" Chauncey demanded, still bitter about the bitch comment.
"You do," Avarick said evenly, "Or else."
Before Chauncey could ask 'or else what', Benvolio abruptly cut in, "Its time for class."
They'd only had two of Audra Dusserre's classes so far, but nobody wanted to be late. Professor Dusserre was the type of woman you'd expect to be carrying around a whip and wearing skin tight leather pants rather than teaching. She carried herself with the self assured manner of one that knew she reeked of sex appeal. She used her looks to her advantage. The whole of the male population of Willowcrest paid complete attention in her classes. Despite her pretty face, however, Audra was also a rather famous auror. She was well known in the streets of London as a dark wizard killer, rather than catcher. This persuaded the female half of the school to look up to her as well.
"Hello, class," she practically purred as she entered the room. Her face had just the right combination of features; if one had been any different, Audra would have turned out a homely woman. Her hair was a thick and luxurious mahogany color. Her eyes were wide and innocent, as blue as the sky. She had a deep, throaty voice that made most of the boys shift their trousers uncomfortably.
"Show off," Harper muttered. Avarick was inclined to agree. Audra Dusserre was the type of woman who made all the other women around her feel inadequate.
"Hate her," Avarick whispered.
"Hate her," Harper echoed.
"I think she's bloody fantastic," Chauncey murmured.
"He would," Harper rolled her eyes.
"Attention," Audra commanded, slamming a fist into the heavy wood of her desk, "For the remainder of this class, all eyes up front. Charms is not a subject to be taken lightly. Girls in the back, you with the funny hair- yes, you, and your little friend with the tiny breasts. Her hair's worse than yours."
Avarick was pointing to herself, and when she realized Professor Dusserre was indicating her, her face reddened. Harper frowned and felt the back of her head. She didn't think her hair was funny.
"I know back in Hogwarts or Beauxbatons," Audra placed the emphasis on 'batons' as though it was a dirty word, "Or even Durmstrang or Shimmercobble the use of charms, jinxes, hexes, and glamours was negligible."
"I wouldn't say that, Professor," the short haired ex-Slytherin girl said, "We were told to take all our studies very seriously."
"What is your name?" Audra asked with narrowed eyes.
"Eranthe. Eranthe Demontico," the girl replied, a slight flush apparent in her mocha complexion.
"Don't you presume to tell me how you were taught at Hogwarts. I was taught there myself," Audra said haughtily.
A girl in hot pants that looked to be patterned in brown suede, autumn red patches, and orange sand camouflage stood up, "Professor, can we continue with the lesson?"
Despite Audra's hot glare, the girl absently twirled a lock of auburn hair. How she managed to look bored in the face of the angry dominatrix type professor was beyond Harper and Avarick.
"Yes, Miss Carew," Audra sighed, "The practicality of charms is apparent in the field. Perhaps you shall glamour yourself to escape the enemy, perhaps you shall master a particularly vicious hex that shall aid you later on."
"Shall it?" the girl in the hot pants grumbled.
"It shall," Audra said icily.
"But Professor, why would we use a glamour when we could just transfigure ourselves?" the girl asked.
"It takes less energy to use a glamour," Audra frowned.
The girl gave a honey sweet smile, "What about a jinx or a hex? Wouldn't it be more effective to use the ones we've learned in defense than the minor housework spells?"
"You never know what you'll find useful," Audra said darkly, finally, as though it was the end of the discussion.
"Anyway," she started again, "spells are strong in a way that indicates you're seriousness. Yes, many aurors must make use of them in the chase to capture a dark wizard, however you all must keep in mind that there are threats that must be handled with more care."
"Like what?" Harper ventured, the courage of Miss Carew having caught.
"A muggle riot caused by an escaping wizard," Audra suggested, "A flunky under the imperious curse. In both of these situations your main objective would not be lasting damage, but to subdue. Depending on the events surrounding your problem, the means will be different. This is no longer school-girl or boy charms. This is active defensive and offensive magic."
While Professor Dusserre continued to speak, Chauncey nudged Avarick, "Hey, who's that girl sitting next to Merlin?"
He was referring to the auburn haired girl in the hot pants. Harper shook her head; she didn't know. Avarick however, had studied the attendance list very carefully before she headed to Willowcrest. In a conspiratorial tone, she replied, "That's Zillah Carew."
"Zillah Carew," Chauncey echoed, waiting for more information. When Avarick didn't provide any, he elbowed her expectantly.
"What? Oh, I want to pay attention to lessons. Do you like anything with legs?" Avarick demanded, irritated.
"As long as they have a nice cozy bosom where I can rest my head," Chauncey deadpanned.
"Fine. As far as I know, she was at Shimmercobble. She knows Merlin, but doesn't seem particularly fond of him. And she's British. Her parents sent her to Shimmercobble because they felt that Beauxbatons was too snooty and Hogwarts wasn't selective enough."
"I wasn't aware that Shimmercobble was all that selective either," Harper commented, listening in. Conrad also seemed to be listening closely. They would all have to get notes from Benvolio after class.
"It's not," Conrad gave his input, "I met a girl from there during the summer hols. We went to Aruba."
Ignoring the twinge of jealousy Avarick felt from her total lack of money, she continued, "Apparently Shimmercobble itself is not all that selective, but it's divided into five…specialized schools, I suppose. Almost like houses. One of the schools could rival Slytherin in their pure blood mania."
"The Truebloods," Benvolio said quietly, apparently listening after all.
"Truebloods…?" Harper asked, noticing the way Avarick stiffened beside her. Chauncey and Conrad didn't seem to know what he was on about either.
"She was a Trueblood," Benvolio continued.
"But how do you know?" Avarick murmured, staring intently at the back of Zillah's head, as though a mouth would grow from beneath the girl's mass of auburn curls.
Benvolio shifted, his crisp pin striped zoot suit pants, "She has the tattoos. On her shoulders."
Thinking that whatever this meant, pureblood wizards and witches really seemed to like tattoos, Harper realized that she couldn't see Zillah's arms. She was sitting directly behind the girl, so she leaned forward and hissed, "Hey. Hey, uh, Zillah, right?"
Coolly, the girl turned, giving all of them the perfect view of the black ink staining the soft peach skin of her shoulder, "What?"
"I dropped my quill," Harper said, even though she was holding the golden eagle quill directly in front of her cheek. Benvolio had already caught on, and tossed his to the floor while Zillah wasn't looking.
The girl glanced down skeptically, then reached to get it, exposing her left shoulder to them all, "Here."
When Zillah had turned back around, Harper returned Benvolio's swan feather quill and said, "I don't get it."
The tattoos on both shoulders had been words written vertically down the skin. The print was simple, and the meaning was completely lost on her. They'd looked like nonsense words.
"One means love, the other means hate. It's the mark of a Trueblood."
"I thought that was a legend," Avarick gasped.
They were all speaking in muted whispers, and Professor Dusserre's voice was so loud that Zillah couldn't seem to hear them. Even so, Benvolio lowered his voice, and they all leaned in close.
"Bugger it all. What in the seven hells is a Trueblood?" Chauncey demanded.
"You're rich, so you wouldn't know," Avarick replied.
"What does that have to do with it?"
"That's obvious- rich people join the neo-deatheaters if they want to join a hate group at all," Avarick snapped.
Harper raised an eyebrow. Since the fall of the great dark lord over twenty years ago, his minions, the death eaters, had evolved into something else entirely. At first they had been called the neo-deatheaters, but now the term was severely outdated. Now they were called the Dreadnaughts. Basically it was a club for too-haughty-for-thou pureblood rich kids. There was a guerilla warfare segment, but they'd never been caught. Their hate crimes were rare, but when they committed one, everyone noticed.
"The Truebloods are a gang?" Harper inquired.
Avarick and Benvolio nodded, troubled. Conrad and Chauncey were too busy pretending to be insulted about their wealthy status being mocked.
"Why would someone from a pureblood hate group want to be an auror?"
"Couldn't tell you," Avarick shrugged.
Class ended, and Audra Dusserre marched out of the classroom with a strict bark of, "Everyone's homework better have perfect handwriting. No sloppy papers will be accepted."
"Aw man, what's the homework?" Harper wailed.
All five hurried to potions with Professor Buckland. Wilhelm Buckland was an aggressive, middle aged man. He was balding, and had a slow way of talking while he lectured, yet still managed to be extremely loud. Despite his booming voice, he was hard to anger. The class passed without event. Even skinny, nasal Phinny Kleinberg (who'd graduated Durmstrang; how, no one knew) managed to keep quiet.
Weeks passed, and all the students became accustomed to the way Willowcrest worked. The only incident anyone could remember happening was Merlin Pembroke being called out of class because his brother had come to visit. Soon, Professor Weslen had announced that they would be taken on their first field trip to London.
Conrad, Chauncey, Benvolio, Harper, and Avarick became great friends. They spent most meals together, often going to visit Shilpa at Nataraja. Her father, Kavan, who was also the cook, came out to stopover while they ate. He gave them huge discounts, which Avarick and Harper appreciated.
It was after one such meal that Conrad hung back. He'd just overheard Harper invite Benvolio to one of the many school libraries that night. He'd agreed, and she'd giggled like a moron. It was quickly becoming a routine whenever she was around him. When she noticed the way his footsteps faltered, Harper excused herself from walking with the rest, "What's wrong?"
"Hey, Harpy?" Conrad asked, rather timidly.
"Yeah?"
"Do you have a thing for Ben?"
Harper immediately turned the exact shade of the tomatoes in her salad, "Now, what would make you think that?"
"You're blushing," Conrad observed lazily, "Besides, your IQ level goes down fifty points when you're around the guy you like. And I'm pretty sure it isn't me or Chauncey that's making you act like a giant wet sop."
"I have not," Harper exclaimed indignantly, "Been acting like a giant wet sop."
"Have too," Conrad informed her, "Besides, you haven't answered the question. Do you fancy him?"
"He- I- well- wait! This isn't something I should have to discuss with you!"
"I'm not your friend?" Conrad's expression turned into something resembling hurt.
"That's not what I mean. It's just…this is awkward, Con."
"I know," he nodded, "Why is that?"
"We used to be best friends," Harper offered sadly.
"Yeah."
"I know. Why don't we hang out sometime? Just the two of us? We'll…go to the cinema. Is there a cinema around here?" Harper panicked, she couldn't think of anything better to do.
However, Conrad lit up like a Christmas light, "A movie?"
"Uh, yes," Harper smiled weakly, "It's a terrible idea, and we could do something-"
"No! I mean, no," Conrad blushed, "It's a good idea. I've never seen a movie."
Sometimes Harper forgot since she was a muggle born in the midst of magic, but muggle things could seem magical to wizards.
"Wicked," Harper grinned, "So it's a date."
"But not a date," Conrad clarified.
"Right."
Two weeks later, Noah Weslen chose teams for the field trip. He would take five of the students to London, to pursue a wizard responsible for a string of petty vandalism they thought was connected to a larger string of murders. Wilhelm Buckland, a man he had little respect for, would take another group of five into the country to investigate a witch suspected of unleashing several gruesome, but non-fatal potions and spells.
"So who do you have?" Casey asked casually. They met regularly, one night a week. Willowcrest was so secluded that they had little else to do. Also, neither communicated regularly with friends or family.
"Ah, a Van Rennselaer," Noah started.
Casey grinned, "Ah, that's that cute little blonde."
Noah made a face, "She's French."
"So? French girls are cute," Casey shrugged, "I dated one back in school."
"I don't do French," Noah replied softly, "Or girls, for that matter."
"Who else?"
"Ah, a Hargrove!" Noah exclaimed.
"One of my brothers? Which one?"
"Conrad," Noah replied.
"Which one is that?" Casey joked.
"Mate, you'd best figure out quickly. I sense you'll have to do some serious bonding with them before they graduate."
"If they graduate," Casey said gravely. He remembered how hard Willowcrest could be. As it was, they were almost two months into school, and Noah had told him none had mastered their animagus transformations.
"I also have Valente, Carew, and Pembroke," Noah finished quickly.
"Ah, that's that feisty girl with the dark hair that hangs around my brothers," Casey recalled, "And the one with the funny tattoos. The guy's American."
Noah nodded, "That leaves Buckland with Demontico, Tyler, the other Hargrove, Asher, and Kleinberg."
"You've got a good group," Casey tried, but Noah wouldn't have it.
"They're all soft," he said, frustrated.
"We used to be like them."
"Did we?" he asked bitterly, "I don't remember."
"We did," Casey said firmly.
Despite what Noah felt was supposed to be support, he still felt like crap the next morning. The students' faces were much too bright for this early in the morning. Well, the Hargrove kid and his little friend seemed to be yawning and grumbling too often, but the rest of them were obnoxiously happy.
"I don't care if any of you like each other. I don't care if any of you hate each other. Miss Carew, I don't even care that you're in some stupid Trueblood gang and are refusing to get within a meter of Miss Valente. Yes, don't think I didn't notice that."
Zillah opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it. It was the first time any of them had seen the attitudinally challenged girl back down.
"We work together. We stick together. You're all big kids, I know. You all know your way around London. I don't care. If I lose any of you- consider yourself expelled," Noah said sternly.
When none of them raised any objections, he continued, "We will be apparating to the immediate vicinity of Saint Mungo's. Our perp was last seen in muggle clothes, sandy blonde hair, tall. He is responsible-we think- for at least five acts of vandalism to the muggle underground as well as other vehicles, two of which have resulted in the death of five muggles. Additionally, we feel he is associated with a chain of murders across London."
"How are we supposed to find him?" Zillah asked, a hint of sarcasm touching her voice.
"Use the instruments you've been given in class," Noah replied, "Namely knowledge."
"That was vague," he overheard Conrad tell Harper.
"If you can't figure it out, you don't belong here," Noah said hotly.
Minutes later, they had disapparated to the shopping district outside Saint Mungo's.
"The minor enforcement team has already narrowed down the location in which our suspect's been spotted," Noah said, smirking. He could visibly see half the tension leak out of his team, who had believed him about figuring it out on their own.
"Van Rennselaer and Carew, you two head down that street. If you see anyone matching the description, discretely stun them. The same goes for you, Pembroke and Valente, down that street. Either of you find anyone, send up red sparks with your wand. We'll be watching the sky."
Harper bid Conrad a reluctant goodbye and headed half-giddy after Merlin down a side alley. Simone and Zillah had already left. Conrad shifted awkwardly.
"I'm sure you're wondering what you're going to do," Noah muttered, almost to himself. He didn't seem to expect a response, and stood there as though pondering what exactly they could do for quite a bit. Conrad grew increasingly bored, and decided to provide an answer.
"Well, I was assuming that you were going to be my partner," Conrad said quietly, a hint of a mocking smile on his face.
"Boy, don't test me," Noah barked, thinking that he could have fun with this one.
However, Noah didn't get a chance to test that theory. Before he could even growl an order at Conrad, both noticed a flurry of red sparks lighting up the sky.
If Harper fell all over herself because of a teensy crush on Ben, her full blown attraction to Merlin made her practically incompetent. He looked so cute in his T-shirt that read boldly ' New York Fucking City'.
"Harper, right?" Merlin grinned as they left the group.
"Y-yeah," she stuttered a reply, face lighting up like the sun. He had such a cute American accent.
"Well, Harper, I'm Merlin Pembroke," he extended a hand, none too interested in the fact that they were supposed to be hunting rather than chatting.
"I know," she squeaked, staring at the hand as though he were offering her the plague. Or a sacred relic, but he couldn't tell the difference between her awed and terrified faces. Mildly insulted, he withdrew it.
"I suppose we should get on with it then," he frowned, trying to see anyone who matched their suspects description. He figured it wouldn't be completely prudent to look as though they were searching, and was about to suggest that they make use of a shadow spell, or perhaps an invisibility spell. However, Harper hadn't moved to follow him, instead staring giddily at him and repeating 'it? What is it?'
Merlin was used to having this type of effect on girls.
"Valente," he commanded, "Snap out of it. I was saying we should locate and pursue Mister Perrinwell."
"Of course," she replied automatically. Instantly, Harper's entire demeanor changed, "Why don't we try invisibility?"
Merlin felt like hitting a nice brick wall, but instead complied. Of all the group, he had to be stuck with the moronic fan girl type.
Ten minutes passed with no results. No one matching the description had passed by. Hadn't Professor Weslen said that the man had been cornered in the area? Frankly, Merlin wished they could have taken on a more serious assignment. One that could plausibly involve dueling and quick wand work. One that didn't involve Harper constantly bumping into him with a giggle and an 'oops'.
"Look, would you stop already?" He insisted, as she bumped into him for what seemed like the millionth time. Only when he turned to look, it was not a shadowy disguised Harper, but a small muggle child who screamed, "Mummy, Mummy, the wall just spoke to me!"
Disgusted with himself for not paying attention and Harper for seeming to have the attention span of a goldfish, Merlin glanced around for his partner.
When she was nowhere to be seen, he opted to wander down one of the nearby alleyways, this one much smaller than the one he'd been in. As soon as he strolled in, he felt a cool breeze rush by him, "Oh good, you're here!"
"What, wait, Valente!"
"She took my wand," Harper explained quickly, hand already deep within his jeans to grab his. Before he could stop her, she sent up bright red sparks with a simple incantation.
Aghast, Merlin asked, "Why in the world did you do that?"
"Obviously because mine was taken," Harper replied frustrated, "Don't uncloak yourself. I don't think she can spot us."
"Who?"
"That girl," Harper pointed towards the end of the alley, where a completely innocuous looking woman in her late twenties was standing, eyes closed. She wore knee high, expensive looking boots and a straight, smart skirt. A long jacket protected her from the autumn chill, but the wind seemed to be leaving her alone, as every strand of her light brown hair fell perfectly into place near her shoulder blades.
Merlin stared at Harper as though she was mad, then realized she could see him staring as though she was mad.
"I tried to stop her," Harper continued.
"Stop her from what?" Merlin was growing tired of this game, fast.
"Can't you see?" Harper asked.
"See what?"
He felt her lift his hand, even though he couldn't distinctly make out her form doing it. She was having him point towards the girl, but not towards her, rather towards her feet. And then Merlin saw why Harper was so weary.
"She killed him. She killed Perrinwell," Harper said gravely.
They heard footsteps approaching. So did the girl at the end of the alley. She was blocked in by large brick buildings on three sides, and Merlin and Harper on the fourth. They uncloaked themselves, dissolving out of the shadows right as Professor Weslen, Conrad, Simone, and Zillah arrived at their side. Assured by the presence of their instructor, the aurors-in-training darted forward. The rest of the group was quicker than Merlin- they saw Perrinwell's body immediately.
"Immobilius!" Professor Weslen yelled, but the girl deftly blocked it.
"You have nowhere else to go," Noah said calmly to the girl, approaching slowly. It wasn't entirely true. Being blocked in for a full grown witch with a license to apparate wasn't much of a problem. However, apparating was a five second process, and this witch seemed to realize that she had six wands aimed straight at her and the reaction times of the wielders were questionable.
"I surrender," she called back, raising her hands high above her head. Harper's wand had been cast aside. She had a low, throaty voice, as though she'd been mute for a long time and was only now recovering use of her vocal cords.
As they got closer, Merlin saw that her eyes were green, not like shining emeralds or any of that blather. More like freshly cut grass and pine needles and deep ocean accents, all blended together into one new, strange color.
"What's your name?" Simone asked in her heavily accented voice, concentrating more on the dead body than on the killer. Professor Weslen had told them that in a situation they weren't equipped to handle to keep the bad element distracted.
The bad element in this case, looked vaguely amused. She practically purred, "My friends call me Precious. Would you like to be my friend?"
Simone gulped and backed away, nodding all the while.
Harper rolled her eyes and muttered, "Very convincing, Simone. Say Precious, what made you think it would be fun to use an Unforgivable on that poor bugger?"
"He got in my way," Precious pursed her lips, and darted forward, "I don't like people who get in my way."
Harper rolled her eyes, " Yap, yap, yap, you stupid bint."
She turned expectantly to Professor Weslen, ignoring the way Precious merely smiled and crossed her arms. Professor Weslen, on his part was standing, staring, immobile. Well, that explained why he had yet to subdue her. Sort of. Not.
"Hi, Noah," Precious grinned, "You've gotten old."
Professor Weslen opened his mouth, then closed it.
"Wow, and so articulate," Precious continued. While she continued to mock him, the trainees were having mixed emotions. All knew that this was not the way their mission was supposed to go. Simone, for her part, was terrified. Zillah was watching, only half interested in what had gone on. The way she figured, her job was done, and she'd never had to lift a finger. What was the big deal? Conrad, Harper, and Merlin, however, were getting the very distinct feeling that Precious was doing exactly what they had been taught to do. Buy time.
Seconds later, their feeling was confirmed. Two loud cracks, followed by, "Hell's Bells, Precious. You've been playing without us."
Harper saw the owner of the voice first. It was only a silhouette, female. There was another, presumably male standing beside her, but he remained quiet.
"Oh dear, I thought you'd forgotten me," Precious chided.
"Never, my dear, never," the new girl drawled, sounding less than properly chastised.
Precious turned her attention back to the aurors-in-training, "I'd love to stay and play. Especially with you, Noah. Alas…duty calls."
Except for Noah, none of them would have been able to stop her from leaving. Rather than stun her, the Professor lowered his wand and whispered, "Prue."