Phases of Vervressence
Chapter1: Introducing Stinkerbell
Soft yellow spread through the sky as the last hours of the afternoon began to turn to the first of the evening. Ribbons of fading periwinkle fused seamlessly with the streaks of fiery orange that streamed from the setting sun as it slowly sunk behind the turrets of the castle. Like whispers of semi-transparent violet, clouds that had absorbed the fading light drifted languidly around the highest tower of the castle, outlined in a blazing metallic pink of sunlight. Shadows the colour of the arriving twilight slinkily crept through the cracks in the cold bricks, each emerald green with a blanket of soft moss, the towers and turrets of the castle cast long shadows onto the dewy grass of the neatly manicured gardens like paintings of velvety black ink. A signature of its ancient splendor seemed to radiate from it, and the dark waters of the icy lake reflected the pale stars that were beginning to spread like a sparkling dust through the darkening sky. A silhouette of glowing amber red outlined the shadow-veiled castle, its recently cleaned windows reflected the scarlet light into the distance as they glimmered like the eyes of an expectant child. Posts that were like wiry stems with near invisible rings of metal stood silently beyond the castle in the Quidditch grounds.
Sharp hazel eyes lingered on the castle lovingly. They belonged to a girl who stood alone in the semi-darkness as the other students tore through the corridors towards their dormitories to claim the best beds and put away their belongings. The train had arrived early, and the Sorting was not due to start for at least another forty minutes, leaving anxious and saturated first-years – Lord knew how many of them had fallen in the lake this time – in the Great Hall as the chatted nervously amongst themselves beside the fires. From a distance the girl looked like a post of black, standing unmoving except as she shifted her robes occasionally. It was not a cold night. On the contrary it was exceptionally warm for a September evening and there were no breezes gliding off the lake through the grounds.
There was something about the castle this particular night. Something that made it even more magnificent than it ever had appeared to her before. The castle was radiating with some sort of majestic force that made it look all the more greater and grander. It was alluring, the girl's blood was flowing through her veins with a fresh awakening of magic. Several badges pinned to her midnight black robes glittered like silvery stars in the nighttime. One was the shape of a thin pointed arrow, the tail of it made from a pale blue stone that she had never seen before. In the orange light of the sunset the tiny letters "AA" could be seen gracefully engraved on it. Appleby Arrows. The girl fingered the badge fondly, she had now played Seeker on the league team for a full season, sharing the teams first 2nd placing in eight years. She couldn't wait to whip the Gryffindor team into shape. Her Quidditch captain badge sparkled next to it, the ruby gleaming a deep scarlet as it caught the light prettily. There were four other badges, one a shiny strip of silver with the name Archer Acacia Kellington engraved on it in perfect cursive. Disapproving of her first name – what kind of evil mother called their daughter Archer anyway? – the girl was often referred to as Acacia, Cay for short. Two of the remaining badges were the signature emblems of student clubs she belonged to, one a Gryffindor exclusive group and the other inter-house. The last was shiny silver replica of the Hogwarts Crest, a HG boldly in the centre of it. Earning Head Girl hadn't really come as a surprise to her. The gift of Seeing stole away the luxury of mystery and speculation. Not that she was certain she would receive the position, but, really, there was only a few other girls that really stood a chance.
As she walked towards the castle, pulling a trunk enchanted to be weightless behind her, a full new respect for the school blossomed within her. She was Head Girl of one of the most famous schools of magical history. There had been over a thousand Head Girls at the school since the legendary sorcerers founded it. And now she, Acacia Kellington, was one of them. It felt weird to realise just how old Hogwarts really was, so impressive and majestic with age, the turrets and towers scraping the sky looking like features of a fairytale as lights began to sparkle through the windows with the coppery glow of candles. The sky had turned a pastel violet, flecked with a stain of sable magenta by the time she entered the castle.
Inhaling deeply, Acacia entered the Entrance Hall, the coppery smell of burning wood sharp to her senses. Arcs of gold light poured from the crackling fires, projecting against the stone walls in a blend of sunshine yellow and burnt oranges that gradually darkened into shadows as they reached the high ceiling. Her mind began to tingle suddenly, like a shower of golden light had been lit inside her thoughts. A cackle of delighted laughter rang through her head softly followed by a sound similar to that of a sweeping cape, as though from a great distance away, weaving in amongst the stream of thoughts and the sensations she felt at that moment. A flicker of bright red to her left evanescenced before her eyes with a misty silver transparency hazing her sight. Quickly, Acacia stepped to her right, hearing a loud screech of mischievous laughter, identical to the one she alone had just heard. She turned her head to the left in time to see a red water balloon burst inches away from her foot.
"Nice to see you too, Peeves," Acacia inclined her head several degrees to lay her watchful eyes on the smirking poltergeist as he whistled sharply and irritably.
"Had to make sure that the new Head Girl is on the ball, Ms. Smellington," Peeves replied in his impish voice, flickering from visibility momentarily as he lowered himself to hover just before Acacia's eyes.
With slow, intimidating blink of her eyes, as though silently restraining herself from laughing at his remark, Acacia replied, "Thank you for that Peeves," her voice held sarcasm in it that seemed almost unnoticeable.
"Not to worry, Stinkerbell," replied Peeves, using a nickname he had derived from Smellington, as he gave a gleeful cackle of wicked laughter, "I think we're going to have a lot of fun this year."
Acacia watched with a hard expression as Peeves turned away and lobbed a green water balloon at the first years that were still in the Hall. Whipping her wand out and pointing it at the balloon, Acacia murmured quickly, "Stupefy!" A jet of blazing red light shot out towards the water balloon, halting it midair before it smashed to the ground in a burst of water. Luckily, it landed away from the students in the hall.
Making her way over to the nervous first-years, Acacia held her wand out at them. Their eyes lingered on it fearfully, with trepidation fully clear on their faces. Ignoring their scared glances, Acacia pointed her wand at one of them directly, singling out a blonde haired boy whose robes were shining like black ink in the firelight. Cold beads of water dripped from his face, shimmering rivulets trailed down his pale cheeks as water trickled from his whitish hair. "Evaporo," muttered Acacia, almost lazily. A tendril of icy blue sparkles shot from her wand and snaked its way towards the boy, it curled around him like a whirlwind of shimmering blue before it faded away to reveal a perfectly dry child. He didn't move, just gaped at the head girl as his mouth hung open and he stared at her in awe. A hushed silence fell over them as Acacia began shooting the same jets of blue at students she could see had fallen in the lake.
"Has Professor McGonnagall spoken with you yet?" asked Acacia between muttering charms. She looked over the first-years with wide eyes, noticing tiny detailed faults of each of them. One girl's twin braids were uneven, a blonde boy had his hat on crooked. Fighting the urge to make an exasperated face, she repeated her question voluminously.
There was a blurred rush of replies as twenty first-years called out at once. Sighing impatiently, Acacia shot them a defiant glare that was so intense that the chatter fell away immediately. "You," she said loudly, pointing at a trembling girl whose robes were fastened backwards, "tell me, has a Professor spoken to you yet?"
The girl nodded quickly, looking as though she expected Acacia to curse her at any moment. "She said she'll come back soon," she said in a squeaky little voice that forced Acacia to tense every muscle in her body as hard as possible to keep from flinching. The girl continued to stare at her before her lips slowly began to part as she whispered, "Oh my god, you're Archer Kellington..."
Acacia groaned. Excited eleven year-olds babbling on about Quidditch was not what she needed right now. She had to fight the urge to fire a Silencing or stunning spell at them all.
"Did you know she's the youngest ever to play for Appleby?"
"I heard that the Nimbus Racing Broom Company is developing a new model of the Nimbus especially for her. The Nimbus 1500..."
"1500? No way... That's just a stupid rumour. You can't get a broom faster than the 1000."
She watched them half-amused, half-dumbfounded. Did they ever shut up? Surely she and the other seventh-years hadn't been this bad when they first arrived at Hogwarts. Not even the bloody fifth-years – with that James Potter and Sirius Black – had been as bad as this lot. Or maybe it was just her memory. She took another glance at the now over-excited eleven-year-olds. Nope, she decided quickly, it wasn't her, she was defiantly sane. It was them...
"Have you heard that she had an affair with one of the referees which is the only reason why the Arrows one the Semi-finals?"
"That's disgusting. And she's our Head Girl?"
"I know isn't it wrong?"
Some of the students were completely bewildered by the sudden burst of Quidditch gossip. Ah, of course, realised Acacia as she nodded to herself mentally. Muggle-borns. That excited her somewhat. She had so many first-timers of the magical world to take under her wing. Of course, she had no idea what it was like to be one of them, a muggle-born, she was from one of the oldest wizarding families in Europe.
"Okay!" she yelled over the low rumble of voices, "First of all," started Acacia, shooting a hazel glare at the girls in front of her, "I didn't have an affair with a referee. That's just disgusting considering that they're all one hundred and something years old. And secondly, yes I am the youngest ever to play for Appleby and no the new Nimbus isn't being designed for me, I make my own brooms –,"
A deliberate cough came from behind her, shattering her scolding of the new students. Acacia spun around to find Professor McGonnagall standing in front of her, a hard expression marring her worn face. "Acacia, may I have a quick word before you continue er... welcoming – the first-years."
"Oh, no Professor. I'll come by your office after the Sorting. You should probably get them ready."
The professor's expression changed little, but her eyes suddenly grew darker. "Ms. Kellington, I really must insist."
Waving a hand of dismissal, Acacia replied, "I should take my stuff to the Common Room. I promise I'll see you later Professor."
Before the professor could reply, Acacia walked off towards the staircase, her trunk following her magically mid-air. Professor McGonnagall turned away with a grimace to face the sea of black before her. She sighed. She wasn't looking forward to telling her at all. It was going to be a long day.
"Dopplebeater defence," muttered Acacia to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Well done for your fantastic Quidditch season, darling," applauded the Fat Lady in a cheerful voice.
"Thank you," replied Acacia with a tired voice.
The Fat Lady's expression darkened as she narrowed her eyes. "Those boys in the fifth year giving you a hard time deary?" She asked with an expression that demanded an answer.
"Boys in fifth year?" repeated Acacia in a soft mumble, trying to figure out whom she meant. Oh, James Potter and his little group of friends. She shook her head quickly. "No, no. Just the first years..."
"Oh. Well you go on into the Common Room and sit down by the fire for a bit before the Sorting starts now."
"I think I just might do that," replied Acacia as the portrait swung forwards to reveal the entrance to the Common Room.
The first thing she noticed as she entered was the warmth. It hit her like a full wave of a blissful feeling she could only compare to the orange heat of sunlight on a summer morning. Wearily, she made her way towards her private dorm. It was her favorite part of becoming Head Girl.
"Ow," she exclaimed as she stumbled over a step, not quite stepping onto it properly, and slamming her elbow into the railing. Hastily, she unravelled herself from her awkward position on the stairs and quickly looked about to see if anyone has witnessed her fall. Luckily everyone present had been too preoccupied to notice.
She entered her chamber, throwing her trunk down on the soft, creamy coloured rug in the centre. Everything was scarlet and gold. The curtains were a bold scarlet, the same velvety colour as the carpet, trimmed in gold embroidery. Her bed was made from mahogany that was blackening with age, like the study desk and stool in the back corner, dressed in a quilt of gold and scarlet patterns. It felt so homey, in her room. The same smell that she could always slightly detect in the North Tower, of the faint remnants of the smoke of various herbs that had been thrown on the fires for Seeing, and the scent of bluebells, a sweet and bubbling aroma that reminded her of tiny little fairies dancing in the silvery moonlight.
Acacia fell back on her bed effortlessly, staring up into the ceiling, feeling the magic of everything around her come to her, the essences of history, magnificence and magic all seeping into her blood as she took a moment to savour reality.
This was going to be the best year of her life.