Faye Rivera hated July 7th.
Maybe hate was too strong of a word. It was unusual for someone to proclaim that they disliked a specific day but for Faye, it was simultaneously the best and worst day of her life. It was not only her birthday but the day that she lost her mother.
Her memories of the tragic night were few and murky, her father having to fill in the details when she was older and began to question the events. The night had not been different from most others, her father and her older brother Marco going out to retrieve a special present for Faye that she would open the next morning. Being three years old at the time, she solely remembered being woken by a sharp pain in her chest and finding a shadowy figure hovering over her bed.
The intruder, deemed a robber by the police (despite not stealing anything from their home), fled before her father and brother returned, leaving behind her mother bleeding out on the floor outside her bedroom and a deep jagged cut above Faye's heart. Her wound healed but the crescent-shaped scar that remained served as a grim reminder of that night. From then on, her father ensured that his children had everything they could ask for, never giving them any reason to doubt his love for them. His every action was driven by his devotion to show that each day with them was the best gift he could ask for, though he would not object to prime seats at a baseball game.
Faye's birthday was when that was thrust into overdrive, her father treating it like a national holiday to keep her mind off of unpleasant memories. Every year, they followed the same general routine: cooking her favorites for breakfast, opening her many presents, visiting the cemetery to see her mother, doing various activities of her choice, and culminating in a party with family and friends. That routine had been upended on her eleventh birthday, when, in the midst of her third helping of chocolate chip pancakes, there was a knock at the front door. Not expecting any visitors so early in the morning, her father opened the door to a mysterious woman who looked like she stepped out of the 1950s.
Even stranger than her attire, a polka dot circle dress and white satin gloves, was the purpose of her visit. Introducing herself as Audra Beaumont, she explained that she was the headmistress of a school in Massachusetts, a school that taught magic, and she had an invitation for Faye. Her father and brother dismissed it as a practical joke from a neighbor but Faye showed an interest, knowing that she had experienced bizarre incidents over the years. Her family and teachers always had a reason for something as benign as her skirt changing color (her grandmother passing it off as Faye forgetting about buying the new skirt) to the inexplicable like a soccer ball flying across the field to strike a boy, who had insulted her brother, in the face.
When considering those incidents, Faye being a witch made perfect sense. A witch being born from nomajs, the term for non-magical people, was rare, most having at least one magical parent. Faye listened with rapt attention as the elegant woman discussed how young witches and wizards were taught at Ilvermorny, from the age of eleven, and while her father was hesitant to have her attend a school hundreds of miles away, he could not deny Mrs. Beaumont's warning that leaving Faye untrained in her abilities could cause serious danger. Their cover story, to her friends and family, was that Faye was given a scholarship to a prestigious boarding school.
"Time to wake up, pixie." Faye remained in her bed, pretending to not feel the soft sensation tickling her nose. "Up and at 'em."
A second later, he tugged on her blanket and she tumbled onto her bedroom floor. She peered, through bleary eyes, at her grinning brother, who had just gotten back from his morning run. He broke into a purposely off-key chorus of Happy Birthday, adding improvised lyrics, as she disentangled herself from her blanket.
"Don't," she cautioned, her brother's hand inches from a scaly black egg in a knitted pouch hanging on the wall, next to her fish tank. "You need to wear the gloves or you'll get third degree burns."
"I can't believe they let you have it," he said, in amazement. He lowered his hand, due to the heat emanating from the egg. "A real life dragon."
Faye moved around the stack of sealed boxes and opened the top drawer of her dresser, retrieving a corked flask. "Professor Collins is letting it stay with me until it hatches. He says when I picked it up, it imprinted on me so it has to stay close. Do you really think Dad will let me keep a dragon?" She poured ten drops of the blue potion over the egg. "He draws the line at pets that can't burn the house down. It should hatch by Christmas and then Professor Collins will bring it to a friend's dragon sanctuary in Romania."
Her father's reaction to the dragon egg had been interesting. Awaiting her arrival at the train station with Marco and her stepmother Claire, he anticipated her having mementos of her first year at Ilvermorny, but not to be carrying an egg in an enchanted pouch. In mid-May, Professor Collins, who taught Creature Care, brought the first year students to the Berkshire mountains, a customary trip to allow the students to observe magical creatures in their natural habitats. Faye had been tracking a pack of wampus cats with her friends Reese and Charlotte, the twin children of Mrs. Beaumont, when she spotted the egg in the bushes.
As she lifted the egg, it quivered and she brought it to Professor Collins. He surmised that it had fallen from a dragon nest belonging to an Appalachian Silverwing and had lain dormant until Faye's touch. Unable to leave it in his care, as a result of the imprinting, her father had no choice but to agree to let Faye keep the egg, relieved by Professor Collins's letter that it was a temporary measure.
"Dad's letting Claire take the reins on breakfast," Marco told her. "Hurry up and get ready. It's fun to watch her panic over her little recipe cards while Dad throws in whatever. Oh and act surprised when he gets out the confetti for your grand entrance. You didn't hear it from me but he may have trained Chewie to sing."
After getting dressed and feeding her fish, she headed downstairs, meeting her Yorkshire terrier Chewie at the bottom step, and the moment she entered the kitchen, she was greeted by a stream of colored confetti falling on her head. It was a chaotic scene: Claire making enough food to last them for a week, with help from her father who kept waving off her sister's detailed recipe cards, and Marco making his protein shake and swiping berries from the counter behind their backs. A banner on the wall had Happy Birthday, Faye written in letters in the shape of marine animals.
"Happy birthday, pixie!" her father exclaimed, tossing up more confetti. "How does it feel to be twelve?"
"Same as eleven, except I found out I have heat vision," she joked.
He let out a dramatic sigh. "Already? I was hoping to have a few years before this day. I suppose there's no point in hiding that spaceship in the garage."
Claire playfully tapped his hand with the spatula. "Faye, take a seat. You are not lifting a finger on your special day. I bet you can guess what I'm making right now," she said, cheerfully.
Chocolate chip pancakes?" asked Faye, sitting at the table.
"It's like we share a brain," she replied, as she stirred the mixture in a bowl.
A confused Marco gave a shake to Faye. "You told me you were making waffles."
"My mind's jumbled from all the party planning." She stopped her father from tasting the batter. "Your father and I have been working night and day."
"She's gone nutty," whispered Marco, imitating her British accent.
Her father placed the food on the table, commenting on how well Claire had done with her first bout of solo cooking. Marco may have found it mushy but Faye admired her father's infectious positivity, how he would go out of his way to celebrate the tiniest deeds. A stranger on the street would assume, with how affectionate he was, that he and Claire had been married for years, not two months. Having no children of her own, aside from the experience of babysitting her niece, she was still adjusting to being an official member of the family. Claire's pale cheeks reddened as he praised her calentado, one of his signature dishes.
While he helped her finish preparing breakfast, Faye was treated to, as Marco had hinted at, singing and dancing from Chewie, accompanied by stereo music. She applauded the talented dog and rewarded him with a piece of cooked chicken.
"Papi, you're sure you're okay with going to the Beaumonts after the cemetery?" asked Faye, as he and Claire joined the table.
He poured himself a cup of coffee. "Of course. Our party isn't until much later and I wouldn't want Charlotte to turn me into a beetle."
"Haha, I told you that we're not allowed to use magic outside of school," she said, recalling the lecture given by Mrs. Beaumont at the end of the term. "It's a rule at Ilvermorny for safety. Besides, I don't think we're at the level of transfiguring people into animals. That's a little too advanced."
After breakfast, Faye gathered the presents and stashed the dragon egg in her tote bag. She slid in the backseat of the car, where Marco was messing up his hair. It was his patented move to flirt with a pretty girl and in this case, it was likely their neighbor Grace Chu. She and her younger sister Olivia, who was friends with Faye, both attended Ilvermorny, which Faye discovered when they met at the train station. Unlike her, they were from a halfblood family, their father being a wizard. He and Grace had been dancing around their obvious attraction, a source of entertainment for Faye and Olivia over the summer.
"Did you drown yourself in cologne for your girlfriend?" she teased.
Marco stopped 'fixing' his hair. "Grace isn't my—" He became flustered, realizing that she had not mentioned her by name. "It's your birthday but it doesn't mean I won't chuck you into the pool. Are you okay?"
Hearing a loud screech, Faye massaged her temple. "Yeah, it's nothing. My meds always take awhile to kick in…"
"I know Dad's not on the magic solution train but maybe you should talk to Mrs. Beaumont," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders.
Faye remained silent as her father and Claire approached the car. From the moment she found out about being a witch, Marco had been advocating for her to ask Mrs. Beaumont and her professors for a 'magical cure' for her illness, certain that it could be done through a spell or potion. Her father did not trust mixing magic with medicine and though Faye agreed with him, she understood her brother's concern. She had never discussed it with anyone at Ilvermorny, taking her medicine in secret.
On the way to the cemetery, she tried to distract herself from the random noises, mixed with distorted voices, by focusing on the view from her window. The noise filtered in and out, minute by minute, Faye soon getting lost in her own thoughts. They arrived at the cemetery in the blink of an eye, other visitors sparsely scattered across the grounds. Marco kept his arm around her as they walked towards her mother's grave. Laying down a bouquet of pink peonies, her favorite flowers, at the tombstone, Faye and her family stood quietly, paying their respects.
"Miss…miss…need…want to be…miss…"
The voices resurfacing, she fiddled with her necklace. "Dad, can I be alone with Mom for a bit?"
"Take as much time as you need, kiddo," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
Claire gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze before following him and Marco. Kneeling at the grave, Faye pulled out a star-shaped sapphire gem and tucked it into the peonies. It was a birthday tradition for her to add a personal item to her mother's flowers. She told her mother about buying the gem at a shop near Ilvermorny and her experience at the new school, having not visited the grave since leaving from the train station. Going on about being the first student to successfully cast a levitating charm in her class, she briefly faltered at the sight of a young man in a tuxedo standing beside a grieving elderly woman. In a split second, he vanished, the woman continuing to dab at her cheeks with a handkerchief.
"I miss you, Mom," said Faye, shifting her gaze back to the tombstone. "Claire's great and I'm glad she makes Dad happy but sometimes, I'd rather it was you with us instead. I don't know if that makes me selfish. I just wish we had more time together and I really wish you were here."
Faye jumped up in alarm at the feeling of someone touching her wavy hair. No one was near her, the closest visitors being a couple with their three children. Brushing it off, she merely nodded when Claire spoke to her as she returned to the car. She cupped the back of her neck, almost expecting to find tangible proof of what she imagined in the cemetery. Her father drove towards Skidaway Island, relying on directions given to her by Reese. Upon befriending him and Charlotte, Faye learned that their family was one of the most affluent among wizarding families in North America, their father being the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the interim president of the government, known as MACUSA, due to the current president's sudden illness landing him in the hospital.
The twins were not the type to flaunt their wealth, unlike students of similar wealth and status, at Ilvermorny, though their ornate mansion put it on full display. Cars were scarce in the long winding driveway, the halfblood and pureblood families choosing to either apparate or travel using floo powder.
Faye had barely stepped out of the car before being knocked back by an unseen force, her vision obstructed by a head of chestnut brown curls. The blow caused her to fall against Marco, with a bubbly Charlotte lying on top of her.
"The birthday triplets are complete!" she squealed. "Hi Mr. and Mrs. Rivera. Ooh, that ring is so pretty. Hi Marco. Your girlfriend didn't show up yet."
"Faye," hissed Marco.
Both girls giggled, Charlotte helping her out of the car. "Thank Merlin you're here. It's been MACUSA official after MACUSA official, old people, and the only students so far are Brendan and Warner, who are officially still the worst. Reese is about to take up Jax's offer to be his test subject for hexes." Faye tensed at the mention of her older brother. "Mr. Rivera, have you considered my offer?"
"As kind as it is to let Faye stay in your lovely home, Charlotte, I'd prefer for her not to be an entire ocean apart. How about a counter offer?" he proposed. "You enjoy the day with Faye before we leave tomorrow and I'll let you open your present early."
"Deal," she said, excitedly taking a silver gift bag from Claire.
Inside the bag was a frame with a picture of a green sea turtle. "Faye said you enjoyed the photos I sent her from the marine center. I thought you might like one of your own. It's like an adoption. You can name him, visit him whenever you like, and Grace can use her owl so her mother can send you pictures at school."
Marco covered his ears ("Loca," he muttered) at her high-pitched shriek. "Best present ever!"
Charlotte hugged her father and Claire then ran into the mansion with Faye, nearly dislocating her shoulder. Her family was in the living room, Reese bored out of his mind as his parents spoke with three well-dressed couples and their sons. Faye recognized two of the boys, Brendan and Warner, living proof that with or without magic, prejudice was an inherent part of a society.
In the wizarding world, some pureblood families viewed themselves as superior, deeming those from halfblood and nomaj families to be unworthy of their magic. Brendan and Warner were the most vocal in their disdain, particularly of nomajs, an opinion that they made exceedingly clear to Faye, who they had been initially friendly towards ahead of the sorting into their houses.
It became animosity upon overhearing her tell Charlotte about her non-magical upbringing, an animosity that grew as she excelled in her lessons. Faye had the displeasure of meeting their parents after winter break, during an unforgettable conversation in Mrs. Beaumont's office. They were physical representations of the phrase the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
The third family had their backs to her and Charlotte, but hearing the woman's accent, a posher version of Claire's, she assumed that their son, who would stand out with his slicked back white-blond hair, was not a fellow classmate. Seeing Faye, Reese cast aside his desire to push Warner into the fireplace and sneaked away from his parents.
"Finally. Those idiots make me want to chuck myself off the roof," he said, sighing in relief. "Did you catch the Ireland-Japan game last night? Wasn't it wicked how—why do you have a picture of a turtle?"
Charlotte had taken the frame out of the gift bag. "Mr. Rivera let me open my present early because he obviously knows I'm the better twin. It's a turtle he rescued and it's mine." Faye reminded her that it was living at the marine center, not her home. "Details, details. I've decided to name him Sheldon and I would die for him."
"Okay, crazy." Giving his sister an odd look, he turned towards Faye. "You have to check out the quidditch pitch out back. My father had it remodeled and it's got enchantments to keep the nomajs from spotting us. We should try to do Troy's move. You can practice on my Nimbus. Let's go before—"
"Antonio, Claire, we're so glad you could make it," she heard.
The Beaumonts greeted her father, Claire, and Marco, her brother busy staring at a creature with bat-like ears and wide brown eyes serving drinks on a tray to guests. Charlotte introduced it as their house-elf Tibby. House-elves were found in the homes of wealthy pureblood families, acting as servants. Faye had a similar reaction to her brother when observing house-elves cleaning the corridors at Ilvermorny.
"Isn't her bow pretty? I picked it out myself," said Charlotte, proudly. "Anything you need, ask Tibby."
"I've made the arrangements for tomorrow," Mr. Beaumont told her father and Claire. "The movers will have everything over by noon."
He had offered for friends of his to assist with their move. "We appreciate it, Declan. You didn't have to go to all this trouble," said Claire, with a grateful smile. "We could've gotten a moving service."
"It's no trouble," he replied, as Tibby took the gift bags from her, Charlotte, and Faye. "Magic is far more reliable. I can't imagine trusting my belongings on a…what did you call it, an airplane? Before they were banned, my grandfather had a flying carpet and things would fall off it left and right."
"Shut up." Faye and her father shot her brother the same disapproving glance. "I didn't mean—I meant it like no way, flying carpets exist? That's wild."
"It's not as thrilling as it sounds. I'm going to show Faye the new pitch." Reese was halted by his mother's hand on his chest. "Everyone isn't even here yet.
"Precisely. A proper gentleman personally welcomes his guests," his mother advised, Reese swallowing a groan. "When everyone has arrived, you can bring them along but no flying. I don't want any injuries. You could play a game of quodpot, if you can refrain from staining your clothes. Don't make that face, sweetheart. Your brother would be doing that if he weren't getting your cake."
"Mother, if you believe that he's taking forever for a cake, then I have a purple unicorn to sell you," he countered.
Against their will, he and Charlotte were led by their parents to greet a group of MACUSA officials. Their mother interfered with Charlotte's attempt to drag along Faye for moral support. After getting drinks for her family from Tibby, who she gifted a new silk bow, she showed them around the massive manor, introducing them to her classmates (though she avoided the intolerant ones like Brendan and Warner) and her professors.
Her father and Professor Collins engaged in a lengthy discussion about animals and the soon to hatch dragon egg, her father heavily hinting at him to take the egg before Faye grew too attached and Faye subtly stamping on Marco's foot when he teased her about her reddening cheeks in the presence of the handsome older man. Faye had her payback in the form of Grace Chu, her brother failing to maintain his effortlessly cool demeanor and getting tongue-tied as their families spoke to each other. Grace responded to Olivia making kissy faces by angrily yanking her ponytail.
"Freedom!" Faye buckled under the weight of Charlotte on her back. "Reese is setting up the pitch. No brooms so you can play with us, Marco, unless you and Grace have other plans…"
"I'm planning to practice vanishing spells on three annoying twelve year olds," suggested Grace, through gritted teeth.
Faye went into the nearest room, Mrs. Beaumont's personal library, to check on the dragon egg. Slipping on her protective gloves, she lifted it from the tote, excited by the tiny kicks against her palms. She winced at another loud screech, the noise seemingly coming from the bookshelf.
"Help."
"Stupid git. If it weren't for Father, I'd show him."
Leaving the library, she saw a group of boys Marco's age ganging up on the blonde boy she had noticed earlier with the Beaumonts, a dark-haired boy in the center, Charlotte and Reese's older brother Jaxon, pinning him to the wall. Jaxon presented two faces to the world. Around adults and authority figures, he was an intelligent, talented, slightly arrogant (deservedly so in his mind) boy, a prominent pupil at Ilvermorny. When he was invited into the Silverwing Society, an exclusive club created by his mother to give personal, advanced lessons to gifted students, no one dared to accuse her of nepotism, Jaxon earning the spot through his own skills.
To his peers, he was an insufferable, conceited bully, the professors unaware of his penchant for using younger students as guinea pigs to practice spells. Faye was not the type to judge a book by its cover but she could never shake the uneasiness that swirled around him. Her dislike, aside from his personality, stemmed from his blatant flirtations, Jaxon making it his personal mission to win her affections. Throughout her year at Ilvermorny, she dealt with his persistent flirtations, made worse by the misfortune of being in the same house and Mrs. Beaumont making him her personal mentor when she offered Faye to join the Silverwing Society, the invitation rarely given to first year students and drawing ire from her bigoted pureblood classmates.
Perhaps she brought it on herself, unable to stand idly by while he bullied another person. Her gut was telling her to ignore it, to achieve a semblance of peace on her birthday, but that changed as Jaxon dug the tip of his wand into the boy's throat, cheered on by his friends.
Faye inserted herself between the two boys. "Your mother's looking for you. I doubt she'd approve of you fighting a guest in your home," she said, putting on an overly polite tone.
Jaxon lowered his wand. "We weren't fighting, peach." She scrunched her nose at his nickname for her. "Just catching up with an old family friend, right, Malfoy? We need to catch up too. I'm sure my mother wouldn't object to your company."
"It's a private conversation." There was a thinly veiled rejection in her response. "You shouldn't keep her waiting. She's in the living room."
He flashed her a smirk and once he and his friends turned the corner towards the living room, she faced the boy. "Sorry about him. Are you okay?" she asked, as he rubbed his neck.
"I'm fine," he said, not swift enough to hide his pained expression.
She acknowledged the pint-sized mark. "The burn on your neck says otherwise. Stinging jinxes are his specialty. I have a paste in my bag that can fix it. My brother goes through them so quickly that I've got enough to last me for years. You don't want your parents to find out and start World War Three at a birthday party, do you?"
He gave his consent with a silent nod. Opening her bag, she retrieved a metal tin and twisted it open, the boy appearing wary at the orange paste. She assured him that it was safe, though it tended to prickle for a couple seconds, before dabbing it on the burn.
"I'm Faye, by the way," she said, using the introduction to distract him from the pain.
His pale grey eyes met hers. "Mal—Draco…Draco Malfoy."
"I guess Jax has gotten bored with the kids at Ilvermorny and decided to expand his bullying abroad. What made you his latest target?" she questioned, wiping the paste from her fingers. "Did you accidentally bump into him or did you tell him that he's trying too hard with the leather jacket to look cool?"
The corners of his lips twitched upwards. "We don't get along."
"He is about as pleasant as a chimaera. At least you only have to endure him at these parties." She sealed the tin, stuffing it in her bag. "The one upside to moving is that I get to escape him too but I have a feeling that he'll somehow show up in Dover."
"Dover? You're moving to England?" he asked, curiously. "That's far from here."
"For my stepmother," she explained. "Her father is sick so we're moving close by to help take care of him. Mrs. Beaumont offered to let me stay at Ilvermorny but my dad would've had a heart attack if we were separated by thousands of miles."
He seemed to forget about the painful burn. "Are you transferring to Hogwarts? I go there."
"Well, now I know two people," she said, smiling. "My stepcousin goes to Hogwarts too. You probably have classes together."
"I could tell you more about it, if you want," he offered. "It would be good to know what to expect before the start of term. The classes, the professors, who to avoid…"
From a distance, she heard Charlotte shout her name, followed by a loud smack. Instinct and prior experience told her that Brendan was the recipient of the blow, he and Charlotte often getting into altercations over his behavior.
"Maybe later. I should find Charlotte before her father has to use his connections to cover up a murder. She might be beating someone with the quod," said Faye, remembering when Charlotte hit Brendan with her Charms book. "Have you ever played quodpot before? It's sort of like quidditch but you don't need to use a broom. You should come out back and play. The more witnesses, the less likely Jax is to go for a round two. It was nice meeting you, Draco."
At the sound of another smack and Olivia's familiar squeal of fright, Faye hurried towards the backyard. Charlotte hoisted the quod over her head, about to throw it at a mocking Brendan despite the pleading protests from Olivia and their friends. Others, like Reese, were being bad influences, encouraging her. To their disappointment, Marco intervened, lifting an angry Charlotte up with one arm, like she weighed less than a feather. Her best friend admired his muscular bicep, her thoughts of bashing in Brendan's skull evaporating in an instant.
As Warner began discretely lifting his wand from his back pocket, Faye stepped in and took the ball from Charlotte. "Lottie, don't."
"I don't need you defending me, Rivera," Brendan spat, his harsh tone drawing the attention of her brother.
"I'm not defending you, Gilbert. As much as you deserve it, you're not worth getting grounded over," she said, hoping to evade a confrontation that would inevitably end with her brother breaking his nose.
"Ignore him," whispered Olivia, steering a disgruntled Charlotte towards the pitch. "You know he likes to get a rise out of people."
"Come on," Faye told Marco, sensing him getting into 'overprotective brother' mode. "Marco, ven conmigo. Es un tonto celoso."
Taking hold of his wrist, she walked off with him and an anxious Grace. "Tune him out," said Grace, gently. "Brendan's a prat."
"He shouldn't talk that way to Faye," he growled.
"Old wizarding families like the Gilberts and Atwoods tend to be less accepting. It's why my father's estranged from his parents. They disapproved of his marriage to my mother." He frowned at her. "You either learn to be better or you don't, Marco. Faye's showed him up plenty of times at school and to him, being outshined by a nomajborn is the worst."
Grace taught him the basic rules of quodpot, Marco looking more intrigued than afraid of an exploding ball. Considering it was their birthday, Charlotte and Reese decided to be captains, splitting the group into two teams. Some people opted to be observers rather than players, mostly the nomaj siblings, the uptight purebloods who regarded the game childish, and those who did not want to upset their parents over stained clothes. When chosen by Reese, Marco was warned that in quodpot, any friends on the other team were opponents and he would be benched for special treatment to crushes.
"You get her out of your head or you get off my team." Marco stifled a laugh at his stern words. "If I tell you to tackle her, you do it."
"Aye, aye, captain," he said, with a joking salute. "I will grind anyone you want into dust."
If there was one word to describe Faye's family, it was competitive, her father passing that trait onto his children. As he often said, Riveras were winners. Before attending Ilvermorny, Faye had participated in several sports, she and Marco the stars on their respective teams.
Approving of the sentiment, Reese went over plays. They split into their positions, Olivia bouncing on her heels to stand opposite her sister. Faye was surprised to find herself being guarded by Warner, usually seeing him on the sidelines when they played at Ilvermorny. Judging by the shifty glances shared between him and Brendan, there was a plot to embarrass her on the pitch. Warner had a personal grudge, he and Faye sparking a quidditch rivalry in the final months of the school year.
"I'm going to enjoy slamming you into the dirt, Rivera," he hissed. "Don't get too upset when I steal from the quod from you. Call it an eye for an eye, for the match against Wampus."
"If anyone's going to cry, it's you, Atwood," she replied, as Reese picked up the quod. "The only thing you'll be enjoying is the dust in my wake."
At the shrill whistle, she sprinted down the pitch, easily outpacing Warner. Reese dodged an older boy and threw the quod towards Faye. Jumping up to catch it, she continued to run towards a golden pot. Warner, failing to block her, crashed face-first into the grass, and she tossed the quod into the pot, doing a victory dance with Olivia.
"Not your team!" Grace shouted at Charlotte, grabbing her by her cardigan before she could join them.
Within half an hour, Reese's team had double the points of Charlotte's and they switched out players to allow others into the game. Reese was holding off from taking out Faye or Marco, her speed combined with her brother's muscle, which intimidated most of the students due to their inability to compensate with magic, a winning strategy until it was rightly pointed out by Grace.
Faye moved to the sidelines after allowing Warner to take the quod from her, feeling it about to explode and taking a bit of pleasure from the ball coating his face in lime green liquid. As he stormed off the pitch in a rage, she saw that Draco had come outside and was talking to Brendan. If his family was friends with the Beaumonts, she suspected that they were well-acquainted with other wealthy families like the Gilberts and Atwoods but it did not seem to be as tense of a relationship.
"Dragot for your thoughts?"
"I'll pay you to leave me alone," she told Jaxon, who was behind her. "Dozens of people at this party and you have to bother me?"
"How can I help myself around such beauty?" Faye scoffed at that overused line. "How is it that you get prettier every time I see you, peach?"
"I told you to stop calling me that," she whispered.
"But it suits you so well. You're so sweet and I bet your lips taste just as delic—" She swatted his hand away as he lifted her dress strap. "So feisty. What is going on in that head of yours? I can read these idiots like open books but not you. It's always quiet."
"Your mother wouldn't approve of you getting in people's heads," she said, with disdain. "It's rude."
Indifferent to the invasion of privacy, his eyes passed over her. "I understand why my mother's fascinated by you. You're blocking me without realizing it. All that power in that little body." She stiffened as he stepped closer, closing the gap between them. "Why don't you come up to my room? I could show you some spells my mother's taught me or other things…"
Faye's retort was cut short by Marco shoving him to the ground. Jaxon was the worst person for him to pick a fight with, worse than a troll. The entire pitch went silent, the Ilvermorny students knowing that it was unwise to antagonize him. Though underage wizards were prohibited from using magic outside of Ilvermorny, Charlotte claimed that families with at least one magical parent exploited a loophole in the rule, allowing their children to practice magic in their homes.
Certain that Jaxon would take advantage of it, Faye tried to calm her brother before he escalated the fight. "I knew something was rotten about you at the station. Back off my sister or I'll make you back off."
Her pleas fell on deaf ears. "And how will you do that, nomaj?" asked Jaxon, unfazed by his more muscular build.
"We're not at your school so you can't use magic, tough guy," said Marco, ignoring Faye tugging on his sleeve. "If you'd like me to knock you on your ass in front of your friends, then keep talking."
"He doesn't have his wand. Don't," she begged. She waited for Jaxon to take out his wand to potentially cast a hex but his hand stayed still in his jacket pocket, a momentary confusion flickering across his face. "Like you said, he can't use it anyway. He's all talk."
Charlotte was bringing her father and Claire out to the pitch, under the pretense of wanting to show him a magical creature. Coming up with an excuse in her head, Faye threw a dirty look at Jaxon and dragged her brother over to them, listening to him swear under his breath. She lied to her father that she and Marco had forgotten to pack some things in their bedrooms and wanted to leave, to have time to prepare for her own birthday party.
Claire noticed Marco's surly expression but instead of prying, she added to Faye's excuse by claiming that she wanted to get an early start on the cooking. As a saddened Charlotte left to get Faye's present, Faye and her family found Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont with the Gilberts and a blonde couple that were undoubtedly Draco's parents, Draco and his father bearing a striking resemblance.
"I'll have the boys come in for proper goodbyes." With a flick of her wrist, a bird made out of pink parchment floated out to the backyard. "Antonio, would you mind if I had a moment alone with Faye?"
"No, we're not in that much of a rush," he said, allowing her to lead Faye away from the other guests.
"It's a shame that your time at Ilvermorny was cut short. You're a very gifted witch." Faye blushed at the compliment. "I've already sent your records to Hogwarts and spoken with Headmaster Dumbledore about your progress. It's a fine institution. I know Jaxon is going to miss you at the Silverwing meetings. You would've provided him with a good challenge."
"I—I doubt that," said Faye, straining to be polite with respect to her eldest son.
"Don't be modest. A strong witch never hides her gifts to appease anyone," Mrs. Beaumont told her. "It's the reason I wanted to speak with you, Faye. Though you'll be attending Hogwarts, I thought perhaps we could continue those private lessons. I believe you're special and I'd like to help nurture your abilities. It's up to you, of course."
Faye was taken aback by the proposal. "That would be amazing. How would it work?"
"You won't have to concern yourself with traveling back and forth." She conjured a compact mirror. "This will allow us to communicate while you're at Hogwarts. I've enchanted it. Once you find a private area, such as an empty classroom, you can open the mirror and I'll appear for the lesson. I'll have Athena bring over the books to your new home."
Without thinking, she hugged her former headmistress. "Thank you, Mrs. Beaumont. You didn't have to do this."
"It's my pleasure, dear. As I said, you're very special," she said, kindly. "I can tell that you'll have a bright future. We can iron out the details later. Reese and Charlotte have been itching to give you your present since we bought it."
Maybe once a person reached adulthood, they acquired the ability to be blind to awkward situations. The tension between Marco, Charlotte, Reese, and Jaxon could be sliced through with a butter knife yet the adults were oblivious, Mr. Beaumont conversing with Faye's father and Claire about a proposed law to promote unity between wizards and nomajs. Charlotte was holding something large in her arms, covered by a sheet.
"Ta da," she sang, ripping off the sheet to reveal a cage.
Inside was a black pygmy owl that hopped along its perch. "So you can send letters home from Hogwarts," Reese told Faye. "It's a lot easier than having to use the school ones and this species is wicked fast."
"It's lovely, Reese," commented Claire, peering into the cage.
Faye hugged each of the Beaumonts, saving Jaxon for last. If they were not within view of their parents, she would have gladly skipped over him but with no choice, she at least tried to make it brief, hearing Marco grumble behind her.
"I'll see you, peach," he whispered, slipping a small box into the pocket of her dress. "A special gift, just from me."
Marco looked like he could shoot fireballs from his eyes, watching Jaxon's hand linger on her lower back. Faye had no intention of opening whatever Jaxon had given her. After giving a second hug to both Charlotte and Reese, promising to write as soon as the move was finished, she left their home with her new owl.
"Please don't say anything to Dad," she said to Marco, getting into the backseat while her father and Claire had a chat with her former coworker whose son was a year above Faye.
"Was he that handsy at school?" he asked, gazing out the window at Jaxon and his goons sneaking out to the rose garden.
"Why does it matter when I won't be at Ilvermorny anymore?" she argued, preferring to drop the subject. "I won't see him again until the holidays and by then, he'll move onto his next victim. He's like an annoying fly."
Her nonchalant attitude did not sway him. "You didn't tell me about that idiot who Charlotte almost clobbered with the quod. The one who was saying your name like it was dirt? What if it's the same at Hogwarts? I don't care if some scumbag can do fancy tricks with a stick. It's my job to set them straight for being disrespectful."
"I can handle myself." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Hogwarts probably has some bad apples too, just like anywhere else, but their words don't bother me. They don't get to decide if I'm good enough to be in school with them. Can we talk about how Grace couldn't keep her eyes off you during the game instead?"
"Shut up," he muttered, holding back a grin.
Returning home, Faye headed up to her bedroom and placed her new owl, who she decided to name Nyx, atop her dresser. As she changed out of her dress, she heard a soft thud, Jaxon's gift tumbling onto the floor. She picked up the neatly wrapped box and observing a tear in the scarlet red paper, her curiosity got the better of her. Pulling apart the wrapping paper, she twirled the teal and silver box, various runes etched on either side of a drawing of an Appalachian Silverwing. She twisted the lever and the box opened, oddly producing no sound.
At the center of the box, beneath the unicorn figurine, was a folded piece of parchment and a pair of miniature headphones. The headphones expanded to regular size once they were taken out of the box. Faye wondered if it had broken from the fall until she put on the headphones, hearing serene music. Feeling something soft hit her head, she snapped out of her daze and took off the headphones, the music gone.
Marco was in the doorway. "What were you doing? You know those aren't connected to anything, right? Dad needs us downstairs for decoration duty. Abuelita is on her way."
"I—I'll be right there," she said, picking up the teddy bear he had thrown at her.
For when it gets too loud.
Faye skimmed the note several times, wondering how Jaxon knew about her condition. Setting the box on the dresser, next to a moving portrait of her and her Ilvermorny friends, she left her bedroom to help her family with the decorations.