Woo, this one took a bit to get out. I kept getting brain freezes and I would just sit in front of my computer for like 30 minutes just staring at my mouse. A writer's purgatory, I swear. Anyway, as always, thank you so much for your support. I hope you like this chapter and please review and tell me what's up.
Chapter Twelve: Friendly Friends
The howler arrived in Hogwarts just a day after the shattering of the Great Halls's windows and a few minutes after the dismissal of the last period. Twinkles, a small, peckish blueish-black owl with a penchant for cawing instead of hooting, had performed the harsh journey to the school in howling winds and downpour. Clara's mother didn't particularly believe in weather charms or even the scrying glasses that reported upon it, so it had come as quite a surprise when the skies opened up only a moment after Twinkles had left.
The owl in question had had a singular devotion towards Mrs. Deschamp but found that those feelings were quickly fading as he broke the magical barrier to the school ground, ducking below tree level to avoid any of the nasty dementors he had spotted roaming the distant outcroppings.
His wings worked a bit harder as he neared the glowing lights of the halls, gaining altitude as he worked towards a window that was cracked a bit farther open than the rest. All he had to do was find a young witch named Clara and his day would be done.
As for the witch currently being hunted down by a very agitated owl, she was exiting her last class of the day, hurrying down the halls towards the safety of the Great Hall. Very few people had confronted her about the events of the night before. In fact, although some seemed to eye her with a mixture of curiosity and fear, the majority had summed it up to the dementors that still stalked the gates of Hogwarts or the howling winds that were currently shaking the panes. Very few looked twice at the small, little witch and whether that was because of the timid slant of her lips or the fact that her house colors were yellow and black - well, that was simply by a case by case basis.
"Sessions with Snape," Keela whistled, looking mildly impressed after Clara had finished rushing through the story, skimming over her natural perchance for uncontrollable magical outbursts and mainly focusing on the details of her wand. "Well, that's unfortunate for you."
Clara's brows tipped together, the students around them all pushed to get to dinner. Molly and all the others would surely be at the table already.
"Will your mum and da really get you a new wand?" Keela's mismatched eyes glinted down at her as they rounded around another corner, the giant doors of the Great Hall coming into view. The mouthwatering aroma of roasted pumpkin seeds and honeyed ham wafting towards them. "It's a lot trickier to find the right wand when you're older than when you're younger. That could cost them a pretty penny."
It wasn't the money that Clara was particularly worried about. In fact, if anything, money didn't really play a factor in any decision that the Deschamps made. Purebloods were rarely in financial distress simply because of the perception that they held stronger magic. Even years of social change couldn't completely wipe this perception from the mind of the following generations. Another factor came from the history of her father's family in the merchant industry; there was a great deal of wealth to fall back on. Even then, touching this money had never even crossed either of her parent's minds given their status in the career paths that they had taken. Even her sister received a substantial deposit of money for the few prophecies that she had given in the past.
No. The problem laid solely with the purpose that her former wand held. There had been a reason that her parents had made it for her. And Clara wasn't entirely sure that the passing of time had buried their fears. Or her own for that matter.
"When do you start?" Keela asked.
Clara shuddered, mounting dread making her stomach tense. She had heard some rather… disturbing things about Professor Snape. One being that he preferred the method of open scolding and humiliation in the cultivation of young students. But Clara had been able to see some of the classes that he had taught in her rare free periods. Perhaps he was a bit harsh... but his recipes held an incite that didn't come from reading out of a book. Anyone that thought that they didn't get a great deal from his classes was a fool. "When I get my wand-"
"CLARA!" Molly bound towards them, the sunny bow in her curls bouncing. A grin split her face as she flung herself at both of the girls, her arms latching around them both with such force that Keela and Clara's heads whacked together.
"Ouch," Keela snapped, even in her rage sounding more offended than angry.
"Sorry. Sorry," Molly sang, not sounding sorry in the least as she hauled them over to two empty seats in between her and her brother, Archie. Callum had been retiring early the last few days to fiddle away with some astronomy project so he was absent from the table, his spot being filled by the broodingly handsome figure of Cedric Diggory. Spread in front of him was a sheet filled with a variety of circles and random red arrows pointed aggressively towards some squares.
"What made you two so late?" Archie murmured distractedly, his eyes glued to a stack of papers of a similar make to Cedric's.
"Oh, we were just discussing the state of Clara's wand," Keela said off-handedly, loading her plate with ham and fresh rolls.
Molly gave a considering hum, her brows knitting together for a moment as she stuffed a large bite of pumpkin pie in her mouth. Molly had been the person to come and help her back to the common area when the nurse had finally cleared Clara to go back to her house. Because of this, she had also been the first person that Clara had told.
"The quidditch match is tomorrow," Clara suddenly murmured, finally understanding the papers that the two were obsessing over.
Cedric's head tipped up, his hand propping up his chin as he gave a tired sigh. A few girls and some boys nearby let out a collective exhale as his hair flopped into his eyes tiredly. "Against Gryffindor," he clarified, looking vaguely worried. "They've got one of the best seekers I've seen in a while."
"Aren't you a seeker?" Clara asked skeptically, wincing as Cedric rolled his eyes.
"Please," he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "I'm also the team captain and I'm not stupid-"
Archie snorted, raising his brows.
"When it comes to quidditch," Cedric finished with a glare in his chasers direction. "I know that I don't stand a chance once Harry's gotten his beady, little eyes on that snitch."
"Isn't his vision..." Clara made an iffy noise, wiggling her fingers. He did wear glasses. How well could he see without them?
Cedric stared across the table as if he was seeing her for the first time. "Are you suggesting that I blind him?"
"I'm so proud," Keela whispered, wiping invisible tears from her eyes.
"No!" Clara exclaimed, offended. "I'm suggesting that you knock his glasses off his face." At the astonished stares from around the table, she continued on defensively. "He won't be permanently blind."
"I can help," Keela pitched in amiably, raising her hand.
"We're not punching a thirteen-year-old to win a quidditch match," Cedric snapped with finality earning a grumble from Keela and a shrug from Clara. She had just been trying to help. "To win we're going to have to acknowledge the fact that the snitch is more than likely out of the question."
"That means I'll have to make up for it," Archie said grimly, his mouth twisting down.
"And your boyfriend and his twin are right gits when they get those bats in their hands," Cedric grumbled, his eyes troubled as they stared over Clara's shoulder at the beaters in question. One of which met his gaze with an annoyingly smug chin tip.
Clara blinked, glancing around as Keela's brows went up, her eyes staying fixed to her plate. Molly blushed at the bewildered look that crossed the French witch's face.
"You're going out with Fred?" Clara blurted out, turning to Archie. Keela snorted, spraying some pumpkin juice from her nose as Archie looked up slowly from his papers. At his silence, Clara blanched, her stomach sinking in horror. "George?"
Keela let out a loud cackle.
"Oh dear," Molly murmured, dabbing a hand along a line of sweat that had appeared at her hairline.
"One: I actually like girls quite a bit," Archie said with an edge of intense sarcasm. His brows went down as he cast a dark look over his shoulder at the Gryffindor table. "Two: I wouldn't touch the Weasley twins if someone blindfolded me and shoved me into a four by four closet. And lined the walls with spikes and carnivorous animals."
The pages on the table snapped as he flipped them aggressively. Clara stared at him in dismay, blushing as Cedric's words sunk in a little further.
"Someone's protests quite a bit," Keela sang, popping a cherry in her mouth with a devilish glint in her eyes. The glare that Archie sent her was volcanic. "Oh, stop, darling. I know you only have eyes for me."
Molly coughed delicately beside her, a noticeable blush coloring Archie's cheeks.
Across the table, Cedric took in the exchange in an almost surprised sort of trance. His brows creased. "So you're saying that you and George aren't-"
Keela grinned, waggling her brows at Clara. "Putting hickeys on each other-"
"Bumping uglies in the kitchen-" Archie grumbled, clearing revolted by the thought.
Molly sipped delicately at her tea, her voice gently probing. "Burning the midnight oil-"
Clara's face had simultaneously gone pale and red, her cheeks burning brightly as each accusation seemed to suck a little more out of her.
Cedric gave her a soft smile. "In an intimate and caring relationship."
"I um-" Clara blinked quickly, trying to push out any thoughts of performing any one of those actions with George. And confused at the tumble of emotions that even touching on one of those caused. Her heart hurt. "No - I mean - We're friends. I care about him, um - as any friend would care about another friend. Friends."
There was a long silence in which all of the concerning Hufflepuffs turned to stare down at the fumbling witch.
"Oh good," Keela finally said dryly. "Friends."
"The friendliest of friends, apparently," Archie supplied blandly, going back to flicking through his papers.
"It's good to have friends," Molly finished, her assurance seeming strangely… well, unsure.
"Yes," Clara burst, her voice wobbling as she stuffed a whole roll into her mouth, her hair sticking to the back of her neck with sweat. At the moment, she more closely resembled an albino squirrel storing away nuts than a young witch.
"Huh," Cedric murmured, squinting across the table at Clara in concentration. Briefly, his gaze flicked over Clara's shoulder once more, a sort of light sparking in his eyes. "Say… would you want to come to the game tomorrow?"
"Um." Clara choked down the fluff of pastry in her mouth, grabbing rabidly at any attempt to change the subject. A bolt of lightning cracked through the hall, making the rain clouds decorating the ceiling bursting with light as they imitated the weather outside. "It won't be like that tomorrow will it?"
"That won't stop a match," Archie grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. Cedric looked grim at the prospect. Clara thought about the last time she had been in a downpour like that and remembered rather vividly that her sister had called her a drowned rat. And then the resulting fluff of frizz that her hair had become afterwards.
"But it will cause for a rousing wet t-shirt contest," Keela cooed, winking over Clara's head at the dejected chaser.
Molly sighed dreamily, a goofy smile curling her lips. "Fred and George in wet clothes."
"Oh, how we love a man after a rough day on the quidditch field," Keela said solemnly to which Cedric's brows rose. "Oh, don't give me that look. You'll have your fair share of rabid fangirls. We can't out ourselves as a couple of Cedric lovers with you here at the table."
Seemingly appeased, Cedric turned his attention back to Clara with a bemused smile. "Archie and I will pick you up and drop you off at the stands." Molly gave a delicate cough. "And Molly and Keela, of course."
"We'll be crossing paths with the Weas-" Archie started but stopped at the cutting glance that Cedric shot him. Clara didn't hear them, her mind still on how long it had taken her to untangle her hair. Hours. Painful hours.
Clara's brows furrowed, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. "Will there be-"
"Yes," Cedric crowed, a bit overjoyed at the prospect. He smiled charmingly. "Make sure to wear as much gold and black as possible."
"Oh you sneaky dog," Keela started, shooting him a conspiratorial glance but Clara hardly noticed it before something thumped down on her head so hard that she momentarily saw stars.
Twinkles gave an enraged caw as he let the red envelope go, shaking himself overhead so that nearby students yelped as they got drenched. Still dazed, Clara only saw the blur of bluish-black feathers before Twinkles swooped away with all of the ham from her plate.
"Oh no," Molly whispered, all of her surrounding friends drawing back with similar expressions of foreboding as they eyed the quivering letter currently sitting in her smashed pumpkin pie.
Clara blinked, rubbing at her head as she looked around. She had never received a letter like this one before. Usually, the ones her parents sent were purple with the family crest. Confused, she glanced around again, noticing that a few students at other tables had turned towards her with almost identical expressions of glee. Clara frowned, reaching forward to tug at the seal on the envelope in perplexed silence.
"I wouldn't-" Keela started, shaking her head furiously just as Archie and Molly jumped to say something as well.
"Wait until you get to the common-"
"It'll be worse if-"
"What-" Before the word could completely leave her mouth, the red envelope gave a shudder and burst into the air, splatter Clara and Archie with a fair amount of pumpkin pie.
"CLARA MARGARET DESCHAMP, HOW DARE YOU?!" A terrible voice boomed from the toothy mouth that the letter had twisted itself into. Distantly, as all of the blood rushed from her head, Clara recognized that it was her father's voice with the soft, whispered voice of her mother barely audible somewhere in the background. "PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE HAS CONTACTED US ABOUT YOUR ACTIVITIES AND, YOUNG LADY WE ARE FURIOUS!"
"Activities?" Clara distantly heard someone quip and a dull thumping started in the back of Clara's head as she shrunk away from the red letter.
"SHATTERING ALL OF THE SCHOOL'S WINDOWS-"
"Father, it was just a few," Clara pleaded, suddenly finding her voice.
Keela gave her a sad glance, patting her back. "It's not a two-way conversation, darling."
"So I'm meant to just-" Clara shook her head, dizzy.
"Sit here and take it?" Archie took a deep breath, shaken. "Yeah."
"NOT TO MENTION YOUR WAND!" At this, her mother's voice piped up.
"Now darling you can't possibly blame her for needing a new wand."
At this, there was an audible splutter. "Yes, well - NOT THE POINT! YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO, YOUNG LADY. AND YOUR GRADES! TRUST AND BELIEVE THAT WE'VE SEEN YOUR DEFENSE GRADES - AN EMBARRASSMENT! AFTER ALL THE TRAINING - DECONCERTANT -" A few sentences exclaimed in French rallied off quickly as her father seemingly walked away, grumbling to himself.
There were a few moments of silence before her mother's voice came softly back. "Now, dearest we're not blaming you - well, perhaps your father is blaming you a bit but you must know what a shock this is. Not so much the windows but your wand and your grades… We shall be in contact in a few more days to arrange for your wand. Until then, please don't get into any trouble. And for the love of Circe, get your Defense grades up or your father will melt a pigeon."
With that, the letter tumbled into itself, twisting and ripping at itself until it was a pile of shredded paper inside of the sweet potato soup. A moment of silence passed in which Clara tried to wrap her head around what had just happened. And how everyone in the Great Hall had heard.
Even now, little sections of nearby students had huddled up, whispering conspiratorially among themselves as they shot glances at the white-haired witch and her friends.
"You broke the Great Hall windows?" Cedric finally asked, breaking the tense silence. Clara winced, shrinking a little back.
Keela and Molly both braced, remembering Clara's panic when she had tried to explain that although technically she had broken the windows, she hadn't meant to.
"I-" Clara started, trying to find the words that would make everyone stop looking at her like she had just picked up her fork and jammed it into her own arm. But the truth was that there were no words to make her seem any less odd. "It was-"
"That was a bit of a nasty one," a warm voice came from behind Clara, making a flood of relief wash over her.
"George!" she almost cheered, spinning around to smile gratefully up at the tall red-head. For a moment, his brows went up in surprise before his eyes were softening to a warm caramel.
Behind her, Cedric hid a smug smile, his eyes taking in the few seconds of silence as the two took each other in. If everything went well tomorrow then his chasers would either have an easy time of it or they would be running for their lives. Just across from him, Archie scowled. A 50/50 chance of being murdered tomorrow wasn't exactly what he considered to be a good game plan.
"First howler?" the beater questioned, eyeing the shredded remains of the letter with amusement before he was smirking down at the pale witch.
"Is that what they're called?" Clara questioned glumly.
"Does France not have them?" Molly asked curiously. Keela took a noisy bite from a basket of raw carrots earning her a sideways glance from some of the girls down the table.
"Keeps the hair carroty," she replied with a wink in their direction, still chewing noisily.
Clara thought for a moment. From the best of her knowledge, they didn't. "We have Lover's Letters and… oh yes. Cordial ones and Larks."
From the open stares that were coming her way, she gathered that they had no clue what she was talking about. "Lover's Letters are meant for-"
"Your lover," George supplied, giving her a smile that made her stomach flip. Blushing, she continued on.
"Yes. You can get it to rain rose petals or sing a sonnet - it's really quite lovely." Clara's father sent her mother these religiously. Always a shimmering, purple envelope that spewed confetti hearts or sunshine and petals. Clara herself had even received one once from a boy in Beauxbaton.
But that had been a while ago now.
"Well, that's definitely not the purpose of a howler," Archie sighed, looking tired as he flipped over the stack of papers. George's eyes narrowed on the action, his hands going to his pockets.
"Going over game plans?" he asked a bit too casually, brows quirked up.
Archie's scowl deepened. "Yes. I suppose your lot just jets in there with raw animal talent and devilish good looks."
"Amen," Clara heard Keela murmur reverently. Behind her, she felt George shift, his side brushing her shoulders warmly.
George tipped his head back and forth, considering for a moment with a cocky smirk. "Sometimes I come in with some snacks as well."
Clara repressed the urge to laugh, seeing Archie's thunderous expression.
"Arrogant ass," Archie hissed, glaring at the beater with a volcanic fury.
"What Archie means is that we look forward to playing you on the field tomorrow," Cedric cut in, smiling amiably up at George.
Molly and Keela sent each other knowing looks, brows raised. The basic motto of Hufflepuff was something along the lines of : kill 'em with kindness. And if a tone of voice was any indication, George Weasley would be six feet under at the moment. Uneasily, Clara eyed the trio of Quidditch players. She had never really been in this sort of position before. If she cheered both of them on, would that make them both angry with her? Surely, choosing sides would be worse. A furrowed worked its way between her brows.
Clara decided that they would just have to deal with it. They weren't children after all.
"I guess that's the nice way you lot tell someone to bugger off," George said with a cheeky grin. Behind them, a low whistle drew his attention. Fred waved at his twin emphatically, motioning to his wrist in an exasperatedly obvious way. Grinning, George ruffled Clara's hair and winked down at the thoroughly disheveled witch as she blinked owlishly up at him. "See you tomorrow, Clara love. Wear red."
"She'll do nothing of the sort!" Archie replied peckishly, earning a snort from the red-head as he made his way back to his table.
"Yes," Keela called primly, puffing up her chest. "Clara love, will do nothing of the sort!" She rolled her eyes back to the blushing witch beside her. "Yes. Totally friends."
Please leave a review, if you can! It really does help get me back on my feet. I'm hoping to have another chapter out for Halloween. It's my witchy resolve. But in the meantime, ya'll could help me along by giving me your thoughts and some follows! Thanks and happy halloween!