adjective; extravagantly enthusiastic, ecstatic
Alice loved the Hufflepuff common room.
She knew she wasn't technically supposed to be there, but there was no way that either of their Heads of Houses didn't know about their transgressions into various houses by this point. Tabitha had invited her in year one to paint each other's nails, Alice had very nervously agreed (she hated getting in trouble) and the game was afoot.
Over the years, she had made innumerable trips to her best mates' dorms and had gotten nothing more than an exasperated sigh from Professor Sprout (who actually quite liked Alice) and a rather terrifying but harmless glare from McGonagall (who probably didn't).
Other than a few side glances from actual house members, Alice hadn't been bothered. She had a feeling that most people seemed to realize that she didn't have many close friends in her own house and were letting it slide. She didn't know whether to be embarrassed or grateful.
Grateful, probably.
Maybe.
Anyways, Alice loved the Hufflepuff dormitory. It was so warm. The brick and wood alternating walls were peppered by small circular windows which always seemed to be allowing sunny, buttery light into the common room regardless of the weather outside. Alice would bet it was an enchantment from Professor Sprout to allow a constant feeling of optimism and peace into the circular room (which definitely worked).
Speaking of Sprout, her influence could be seen pervading throughout the house. It was covered in plants, flowering and leafy, growing around bannisters and beside the soft wicker furniture. They were dangling from the ceiling, placed on shelves, and circling the windows that, now that Alice thought about it, were probably magicked by Sprout for that specific reason. There also was a collective and silent agreement between the Hufflepuffs to keep the dozens of plants hydrated. Alice herself even pitched in when they needed it.
Alice was up in Tabitha's dorm at the moment, sitting on her friend's bed after the day of classes. She had had Herbology last period, one of her favorite classes, and was currently trying to pick the dirt out from under her fingernails and discreetly flick onto Tabbie's bed while she was shuffling through her trunk.
Alice loved Tabitha's dorm, as well. Her bed was covered in a soft, colorful, quilt that Alice would stretch out on if that idea didn't make her feel ridiculously uncomfy. Luckily for Alice, Tabby had noted her love for the cover, and the brunette's mother had gifted her her very own quilt a few winters ago. Her drapes were a soft yellow and white, illuminated by the windows that continued in the dorm, in between every bed.
There were several colorful carpets on the ground, and Alice happened to know that Tabitha had made one of them in an act of summertime insanity. It was a bit monstrous, it being lopsided, the pattern being off, and having random bits of cotton sticking up. Alice liked to bully the rug, Tabitha would half-heartedly defend it, but she knew why her mother made her bring it to school.
As a matter of fact, you could just see Tabbie's presence in the dorm. She was an artist, and was constantly trying out new methods of knitting, painting, or sewing, which was another reason Alice was nervous to sit on her friend's bed. The last thing she needed was a needle up her arse. Alice, despite the several instances of unintentional injury and interesting creations (i.e. oil paint Sirius), had actually grown quite fond of spending evenings like this with Tabitha, sitting in the Hufflepuff dormitory, snacking, and making far less impressive artistic renditions in various mediums.
Diana was not often present for these gatherings, she was always at bloody Quidditch. She was a slave to that team, it seemed to take up all of her free time, between practice, training, and matches, and sometimes Alice worried that she was overworking herself, but if she was, Diana didn't show it.
And, in a strange way, Alice was more confident with Tabitha, the shyest of the three of them. Someone had to be outgoing, so Alice stepped up. When with Diana, though, Alice tended to shrink back into herself. Tabbie had commented on it once, Alice had laughed and brushed it off, but it had stuck in her head ever since. Alice herself was rather interested in psychology, probably a result of wanting to understand her own nervous tendencies.
Tabbie only had three roommates, and they were all absent at the moment, thank Merlin. Tabitha was rustling around in her trunk for a souvenir that she had picked up on vacation for Alice. With an "Aha!" she straightened and tucked her hands behind her back, puffing her bangs out of her eyes.
"Okay, so I know it's not much, but I saw it and thought of you, and that's how you know something is a good gift for someone, yeah? Anyways, I got this in a market in Nice- it was way overpriced, but I had already committed to buying it and didn't want to look like a bloody cheapskate backing out, so count your blessings, Birdie," and with that generous statement Tabbie handed Alice a small parcel.
Alice unwrapped it carefully. Inside lay a small blue journal, imprinted with a pattern of leaves.
"It's lovely, Tabbie, but-."
"Just wait a second and open it, Birdie, give me a chance."
Alice obliged her friend, shifting her weight back further onto her friend's bed, and flipped open the cover, and let out a small gasp. The inside of it was a map, but not just any map, it was alive. The oceans waves slowly between the continents, which featured tiny raised mountain ranges and dipping canyons. But Alice's favorite parts were the marked cities, the monuments marked with tiny illustrations that would rise to meet her finger when touched, which Alice learned from a tiny ouch when her finger passed Paris.
Alice looked up with a smile on her face. "Again, I love it, but-"
"Just flip to the next damn page."
Alice laughed as she flipped the page. Written at the top in a very careful version of Tabbies usually messy handwriting was Mystery:
Alice glanced up at her eager eyed friend, whose hands were clasped to her chest in an action of barely controlled excitement. She had already figured out the purpose of it- she knew her friend a little too well sometimes- but wasn't going to enact the cruel punishment of depriving Tabitha from explaining her gift.
"Okay, okay, let me explain," she began as expected, "I know you have trouble with journaling and keeping a diary and stuff, but this is not for that- unless you wanted it to be, I guess. BUT THAT WAS NOT THE INTENTION!" Tabitha exclaimed, brandishing her finger at Alice's face, who just nearly dodged the blue fingernails, and flopped down next to Alice on the bed.
"This is a mystery journal. So you know how you're so obsessed with those mystery books?" Alice nodded in confirmation, trying not to burst out in giggles, though she was the "quietest" of the three of them, she was by no means dull or unexciting, Tabitha just had to like you to show it. "Well, this is for you to record your very own mysteries!"
"Like my own cases?"
"Exactly! You need to put that big brain to work, my friend. Exercise it every once in a while, heaven knows you already don't exercise your body enough."
Alice raised her hand to object to that statement, then lowered it again. She had started working out that past summer, and was planning on running the grounds at Hogwarts, but she hated being watched while she was working out, and sometimes Tabitha was a little too supportive for her own good. Hufflepuff's were always the best friends, though.
"It's a great gift, genuinely. I love it. I just hope I use it enough, I'd hate to waste such a precious journal." Alice teased Tabbie, poking her side.
She swatted Alice's hand away, "I already thought of that."
"Oh yeah? Well tell me, oh great-and-powerful Tabitha, of House Finley? What's your oh-so genius plan for getting me to do what I haven't been able to do for years?"
"I'm gonna guilt-trip you into writing in it. You wouldn't want to see the gift that I spent far too many coins on go to waste? My mother would be furious, Birdie, is that what you want?" Tabitha said, flopping back on her bed and batting her eyes at Alice.
Alice laughed again, and settled back somewhat awkwardly next to her friend. "You got me there, I would hate to incur the wrath of Mother Finley."
"See? It was a genius plan." Tabitha giggled, jostling Alice's shoulder with her own, and turned to face her.
"I see a hole though, you idiot," Alice turned to her friend, found her freckled face much closer than previously estimated, and jerked her head back, neck heating up.
"Oh yeah? What?"
"There aren't really any mysteries here, at least not in our year."
"You really are the smartest dumbass I know, Alice. We're literally at a school of magic. Put on those observance glasses I know you keep in your back pocket. There's mysteries everywhere, you just have to look for them."
Later that evening, Alice opened the journal again, safely enclosed behind her drapes. She had cast a sound proofing spell on them a few years prior for some semblance of privacy, and was grateful everyday that she was good at charms, for her roommates had a tendency to nosing about others' business.
Striking a match for the scented candle she had brought from home (Alice was a bloody skank for lavender) and casting a quiet lumos she flipped open the journal again. Subconsciously, she ran a finger over the Ural mountains, and considered the gift. It really was thoughtful, and something right up Alice's alley, which was Tabbie's specialty. She was undoubtedly the best gift-giver Alice knew.
Since Alice liked to read, and was a Ravenclaw, people automatically assumed she liked to keep a journal. Alice wanted to keep a journal, it sounded romantic and mentally healthy, but she had never been able to consistently enter passages. It was time consuming and she never sounded like herself in them, always telling herself she would write something the next day.
There was also the aspect of living at school and keeping a diary, possible outcomes of which Alice's overactive imagination could take and run with down many a path. The aforementioned nosy roommates were an immediate threat to it's security, not to mention the elves (you could never be sure of their good intentions) and the rest of her characteristically curious house. Alice didn't have any real enemies other than her one-sided, admittedly needless, dislike of Julia, thank god, she cared too much of what people thought of her to accumulate them, as much as she tried to keep a cool persona.
But what if something happened between her and someone else, something that caused bad blood and perhaps a secretly recorded thoughts expose? It was always a possibility to just carry it around with her to keep an eye on it, Alice mused, dipping the tip of her index finger in the melted purple wax, but that would cause far too many problems, letting a small breath out at the heat. Way more uncertainties than keeping in her dorm. Everyone could potentially access it, all it would take is a dropped bag with all her papers spilling out, or some equally horrifying incident.
However, a mystery journal could be different. She could research some spells to keep the grubby little hands of probing sneaks out, but if they managed to break through her admittedly excellent charms, then they would find nothing but her own stupid musings and theories, which could also be embarrassing, but much less so.
It might actually be really fun.
It was true, Alice was a sucker for Marple, Drew, Holmes, and Poirot. She was an observant person by nature. It was unlikely she was actually going to stumble onto anything of importance, so where's the harm in paying a bit more attention than usual? She needed a hobby anyways, Alice hadn't committed to an activity in years.
With a small smile, she puffed out her candle and tucked it into the shelf in her headboard, hand resting on the letter her mother had sent her a few days ago, and that same familiar dull ache started up in her chest, and the sharpness arose in the back of her throat. Alice missed her mom, Ada, and she missed her sister. Her separation anxiety was always worse at the beginning of the year, but it never really left, even on the last night of school. It had only increased since the rise of He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, that little nagging fear ever present in the back of her head that something was going to happen to her mother, her critical, feather-brained, lovely mother, the powerful pureblood who had married a muggle.
At least Rosalind was home, who Alice knew could protect her mother if it came to it. Rosalind had been a Slytherin in school, and her ambition had allowed her to become a master dueler and all around ace of magic. She had actually been training Alice for the last few summers to duel, pretending that it was for fun and had nothing to do with the rising threat, but Alice had yet to beat her sister.
Though her sister had almost been out of school by the time Alice had started, her presence was still felt everyday. At first it had been irritating-admittedly it still was sometimes- but Alice missed her sister. Rosie had started a new job at the ministry doing something or another, and hadn't been home very much, sometimes working late into the night. Alice would be woken up by her sister's slow rustling in her room next door, her muted mumblings.
Rosalind hadn't sent a letter to her yet. It was such a petty thing to be upset about, but she hadn't forgotten in years to send her usual cheeky letter, maybe with a care package and whatever Alice had inevitably forgotten at home. Alice knew siblings could grow apart, she had seen it dozens of times with those at school and read it in books, but she had never thought it would happen to her and Rosalind.
Alice shoved down the worry into that familiar knot below her stomach and stared at the trailing constellations scattered across the ceiling, splattered across the indigo dome like an erratic painter had flicked a paintbrush loaded with silver and white onto it in a fit of passion.
Alice closed her eyes.