The weekend began cool and sunny: a perfect autumn day for the third-years' first trip to Hogsmeade!
Beth's class buzzed with excitement at breakfast, as they and the upperclassmen were herded outside to where the fleet of horseless carriages stood, and the whole trip down. Beth, Melissa, and Bruce snagged a carriage for the three of them, but a misplaced girl from Hufflepuff joined them on the orders of Professor Sprout, her head of house. She looked none too comfortable with the nearness of the Slytherins and alternated between gazing at the passing terrain and giving Bruce shifty looks.
When the coaches ground to a halt, waves of students poured out, laughing, skipping, amid anxiously hollered instructions from the faculty on when to be back and how not to act. Beth felt a jostle from behind.
"Come on, Zonko's is this way, down a block from Honeydukes," one of the Weasleys chattered excitedly to Johnson and Jordan. The four pushed past without a look back.
"How would they know?" Bruce demanded, while Melissa sniffed, "We're going the other way, then."
The other way turned out to lead toward the Three Broomsticks: "Headquarters of the 1612 Goblin Rebellion: General Gistygist slept here" proclaimed a bronze plaque on the side of the building. Cheerful sounds came from the warmly lit windows.
"Oy, Bruce! We're off to the Shrieking Shack."
It was the Quidditch team, joshing around with each other and looking, suddenly, strikingly masculine. Bruce cast a tortured glance at Beth and Melissa, then at the team and back again.
"Minute," he called to them. He turned back, biting his lip. "Listen, I'm sorry, I think I ought to go with the team ... bonding, y'know ..."
"Er -- we'll see you later then," Beth said, surprised.
Melissa, with her arms crossed, made no such statement of goodwill.
Bruce went off with the team, without a glance back. He really looked like part of the group, from Beth's point of view. As soon as he was out of earshot, Melissa let out a shriek of frustration.
"Abandoning us now! Who does he think he is? And with those -- Quidheads -- " she sputtered for a minute, unable to form words.
"Come on, forget him," Beth said soothingly, directing her friend across the street to the tavern. "We can have fun ourselves, and we know plenty of people. He's the one missing out. I'll buy you a butterbeer, Aaron says that's their specialty." Melissa gave a final humph before entering the tavern of her own accord, with Beth close at hand.
The Three Broomsticks was a warm, crowded place which made Beth think of Christmastime. Witches and wizards from the town mingled and laughed, while Hogwarts students sat around the circular wooden tables with mugs of hot, rich butterbeer. Melissa saved two seats at a table with some of her friends from Ancient Runes while Beth stood in line at the bar.
"Can I help you, sweetie?" chirped the round and rosy barmaid, Madame Rosmerta.
"Two butterbeers," Beth said hastily, pulling a few Galleons out of her pocket.
Madame Rosmerta filled two steins with the thick drink and placed them back on the counter. She bent down to make change, smiling at Beth. "Now you're a familiar face. Got an older sister at Hogwarts, do you?"
"My brothers went to Hogwarts," Beth supplied awkwardly. "Chris and Lycaeon Parson."
Rosmerta creased her brow in thought. "Parson .... Oh-!" Her brow cleared and a new expression came over her face. Surprise? Sadness? Wariness? "Yes, I knew them when they were just in school ... before ... A long time ago, wasn't it? I was so surprised to hear ..."
She looked as if she wanted to say something else but changed her mind. She gave Beth a smile. "Well, it's good to meet you, Miss Parson. Here you go." She pushed the two mugs across the counter.
"Just Beth," she corrected, taking the two steins in her arms. "Thanks."
"Of course, dear."
Winding through the crowded tavern with her hands full wasn't easy, but Beth soon found Melissa's table. She was surrounded by two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw. They were involved in an impressive-sounding conversation about the class that they had together, Ancient Runes.
"No, no. Delta, kappa, lambda, mu," Melissa said argumentatively to one of the Hufflepuffs.
"I'm telling you, there's an iota in there," the Hufflepuff argued back.
Beth wasn't in that class, so she tuned out the conversation and focused instead on enjoying the warm, friendly atmosphere. This wasn't a place where fights regularly broke out, she thought. This was a place where friends gathered to laugh and talk. Where the homeless could feel at home. Where the motherless could feel like they had a whole family.
That last thought was an uncomfortable one, so Beth thrust it away. She slipped into a sleepy daydream about a book she had read once about a Muggle girl in college. The Muggle had all kinds of adventures at this fascinating university, with interesting people and little surprises every day. It might be a fun idea to write about some other Muggles in college, she thought. That would make it seem almost like she was one.
"Lycaeon. Remember?"
The words came from far across the room, but struck Beth's ear like the speaker was up close. Someone had known her brother, it seemed. She sat up, alert.
"Chris too, his older brother. And their mother. She married that Muggle, you remember, Bill Parson?"
Beth looked around. Madame Rosmerta leaned over the counter, in conversation with an athletic-looking man in his early thirties. Apparently she was telling him about meeting Lycaeon's little sister.
"Course. How could I forget? I played on the Quidditch team with Lycaeon -- Luke, you know. He was a bloody good Keeper. Can't believe where he ended up."
"And Chris. So neat and polite. I had quite the crush on him, back in the day," Rosemerta confided to the athletic man.
So, they had been friends of her brothers. For a moment, Beth wanted to go over and meet them -- see if they had anything to add to her tiny collection of knowledge. How had they acted? Who did they know? Was Lycaeon as good at Quidditch as they say he was? Did Chris really get all those OWLS?
"I never would have thought, though. I should have watched closer, you know, after their mother went that way."
Beth strained to hear.
"When did you last see him?"
A group of young wizards playing cards at a nearby table began roaring in lusty humor as one of them won the game. Beth almost fell out of her seat leaning toward Rosmerta's conversation, trying to pick up remnants over the good humor.
"... looked so old."
"Amazing," breathed Rosmerta.
"Beth? Beth?"
Beth looked around in surprise. Melissa was nudging her shoulder with a concerned look on her face. "Are you all right? We were saying we thought we'd head up to Honeyduke's. Want to come?"
"Sure, sure." Beth felt her face flush. "Sorry."
They made their way through the crowds of patrons and down the road to Honeyduke's candy store. Beth had to admit that it rivaled everything she'd ever heard about Willy Wonka's. Some of the items catered toward more bizarre tastes -- a whole display dedicated to blood-flavored candies loomed in one corner -- but most of the other walls were stuffed with rich chocolate, smooth fudge, bright colors and shiny wrappers. Some of them promised magical properties, like the Fizzing Whizbees that made you float; others, like the spun-sugar quills, were worthwhile no matter what else they did.
"You can't get Honeydukes chocolate anywhere but here," Melissa babbled excitedly, loading up on thick bars of chocolate.
"Or cockroach clusters," said Beth, eyeing some of the more exotic items.
"Really, they're not bad. You need to try one." She grabbed one and added it to her pile. "And get some sugar quills."
"Do they do anything weird?"
"Not a thing. I swear."
"Then I don't believe you."
Regardless, Beth walked out of Honeydukes with a whole bag of sugar quills and another of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Melissa had a big parcel of chocolate and the cockroach cluster, which Beth promised to eat later when no one else was watching.
"Which way to the Shrieking Shack?" Beth asked, nibbling the end of a quill.
Melissa's demeanor darkened. "Ask Bletchley. He'd know."
"Don't still be mad at him. Remember the cardinal rule?"
"Boys are dumb."
"That's the one."
They strolled around until they met up with Mervin Fletcher, who pointed out the way to the Shrieking Shack. Mervin, it seemed, had spent the whole trip trying to get as close as he could without getting caught.
"Goblin guards," he said giddily. "Can't get closer than ten feet, so you have to stay around the perimeter. Loads of fun. Almost like trying to dupe the Hufflepuffs."
"Sure ... we'll try it ..." Beth promised, giving him a weird look.
The Shack stood out a distance from town; the main street changed into a winding dirt road that led around the house but not actually up to it. One or two clusters of wizards, mostly Hogwarts students, picnicked on the overgrown lawn. Beth and Melissa wandered around on the grass, looking for a place to sit that wasn't too muddy or lumpy.
"Afternoon, girls."
Beth leapt a foot in the air. "Where did you come from?" she panted at Vivian, who had suddenly appeared just a few inches in front of her.
"Over there." She pointed to where Richard and Daedalus stood chatting on the grass. Without warning, she disappeared again and rejoined the two older boys.
Melissa shrugged at Beth, and the two of them strolled over to join the three.
Richard looked like someone had handed him a sack of Galleons. "Seen Vivian apparating, did you?" he beamed. They nodded. "She's a pro. Gloria serpens!" he exclaimed happily.
Vivian pretended to swoon. "Methinks the lord flattereth too much." She vanished momentarily, moving in an instant to the other side of the small group.
"Looks tricky," said Beth.
"Very," Vivian agreed, disappearing with a *pop* and reappearing two feet to the left.
"Isn't that illegal without a license?" Melissa grinned.
"Definitely." Vivian popped away and landed near Richard, who patted her shoulder encouragingly.
"No one would ever learn if they didn't practice before they were legal," Daedalus said in a reasonable tone. "And as long as you don't splinch, no one ever has to know."
"Splinch?"
"Leave a body part behind."
"Oh."
"It's dangerous," Vivian agreed. "You get nauseated the first few times." She popped away from Richard and reappeared beside Daedalus. She poked his side playfully. "And once, I left behind the soles of both shoes. Try explaining to your parents why you have to wear your boots around in the summertime."
"At least it wasn't your feet," said Daedalus.
"Too true."
They turned toward the unexpected voice; Daedalus' face lit up. "Jerry, I thought you'd be home with the firsties!" he exclaimed, shaking hands enthusiastically with the tall boy that had joined them.
"So did Snape," said Jerome Marx, with an easy grin. "I set them up on an all-day chess tournament and put Evan Wilkes in charge. They'll never miss me."
Vivian threw an arm around Jerome's shoulders. "You hope. Which passageway did you use?"
"The one behind Dame Edna Hag the Single-Orbed," Jerry enunciated quirkily. He spotted Beth and Melissa. "D'you know that one of ours built that tunnel? Orville Dissendell. That had to have been thirty or forty years ago."
Beth noticed the SSA ring on his hand for the first time.
"Reminds me why I came over." Jerome dropped his voice and the little group drew into a closer huddle. "The Halloween feast. If there's one time you can count on everyone to be out of the corridors and out of the way, it's then. We've got to make that third-floor-corridor excursion soon, and that would be the perfect time."
Richard looked impressed. "Excellent! Are you going to be in on this one?"
Jerome frowned slightly. "Can't, got to protect the firsties from the bats in the Great Hall."
"Oh, let me do it, Rich!" said Vivian excitedly. "They'll never miss me. In fact, let's make it a girls' night out. What do you say?"
Beth realized that Vivian was talking about her. "Oh, ah -- all right. Sounds ... fun."
"Sure!" Melissa added cheerfully. "There's no one interesting at the Halloween feast but the same old people, and dead folks."
"There you go, the job's yours," Richard grinned.
Jerome backed out of the circle and stretched his arms above his head. "Well, I thought you'd be interested in that. Got to go, I'm meeting a certain someone for a few hours before someone else realizes I'm slacking my duties. See you all tonight!" He strolled away with his hands in his pockets, whistling cheerfully.
"That's the kind of prefect I like," said Vivian. "All-day chess tournament, my eye."
"Your feet," said Daedalus, with a straight face.
Beth and Melissa caught up with Bruce outside Zonko's, and forgave him for running off since he tried so hard to look penitent about it, and also since they were in such a good mood themselves. The joke shop did nothing to dissipate their cheery demeanors; it was filled with fake items that turned into weird things, and as Aaron had promised, exploding devices of all kinds. Bruce restocked his yearly supply of Dungbombs and agonized over whether fake hen's teeth were worth it.
"You can only use 'em once, you know. For that price?"
Beth coughed loudly. "Potions with Gryffindors ..."
No further convincing was needed.
By the time they paid for their purchases, it was almost time to load back up on the carriages and return to Hogwarts. They joined the throng of students filtering back to where the carriages waited. It was like being swept along in the exodus after mealtimes, or in the rush between classes at school; but somehow, everyone seemed much more pleasant.
They rode back to the castle in relative silence, but it was a good kind of quiet following an exciting day. Bruce kept taking out his new Dungbombs and looking at them, and Melissa finished most of her chocolate by the time they got back.
In the still of the evening, as tired students slowly prepared to go to sleep, Beth found her thoughts going back again to what she had heard in the Three Broomsticks. She resolved to ask Madame Rosmerta for stories about her brothers at the very next Hogsmeade weekend. Maybe she could even introduce her to some of their old friends; maybe they'd have pictures or old letters or something, anything. For once, there was a chance to learn more. What she was too shy to ask her father, she was dying to ask a stranger.
Their faces hung in her mind long after she went to sleep, and she dreamed of hazy reunions and what might have been.