The sun shone on Katolis and roused the inhabitants from their sleep. The people marched about in the streets, and even the shouting sounded like home. Meanwhile, Atarah sat listlessly on a ledge hanging over a tall building, watching from a distance.
An emptiness pervaded her body, such a foreign feeling that tugged at her face. She stubbornly set her expression in a strained smile. It felt as though giggles and mad tears would escape from the funny feeling in her chest if she let it. Harrow received a letter back from Aaravos this morning, confirming the interview in two days, informing her, Gren, Corvus, and Lady Sarai of course. It seemed like they accepted her reassignment, and that only she was freaking out about the change, so she left quickly to be by herself.
And she felt so stupid for finding it to be such a shock. Nothing tied her here, but everything here made her want to stay. She watched these people and was familiar with their faces and names and voices. She watched as a watch guard must and enjoyed how open Katolis was. Truthfully, she resented that she caused this state of limbo within herself for constantly getting attached from the outside and never trying to be involved inside. In no way did these things claim her as she had never claimed them. Her job never felt this hard to her before, like it was a burden. Perhaps that was because usually, her job demanded that she always return here. She held onto hope that becoming the kids' protection detail would not change that, that it would be temporary. This morning felt like a dream.
No, that was a lie. It felt like a nightmare. Because she did not want to go, but she had to.
Feeling much like the fool, the woman dug her fingers into the cold surface of the tiled ledge, actively ignoring the tears rolling down her face. Just like she always does.
Once the salty taste of her emotions touched her lips, she furiously wiped her face and set her brows. This was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She closed her eyes and then drew in a deep breath. And she let it go.
There. See? All better.
But as soon as she opened her eyes, she heard those words he said taunting her in her head. She was always friendless. Always alone. Just a replacement changing her job to be someone else's replacement.
And that was... okay.
For some, there's an internal clock that wakes them up in the morning, or the brightness of daylight peeking into the room. For Ezran and Callum, it was the smell of breakfast.
The kitchen was relatively under their rooms on the first floor, and the cook would often leave windows open to clear the air of onion smells and other things. A smell of fried potatoes slices and bacon wafted through the kitchen window and up into their rooms. They woke simultaneously, convinced to leave the warmth of their bed for substance in their stomach. Callum chuckled when he heard a thud sounding from the room adjacent to his. He hurried as well, though, wanting to have the first choice of the dishes.
It was a whirlwind of movement in both rooms until Ezran swung his door open and began running half-heartedly. He just woke up, after all. Callum cursed his messy hair and settled for patting it down instead of combing it, sprinting after his brother. He had the advantage of longer legs and a better disposition of recovering from sleep quickly. He passed by Ezran's now-walking form with a laugh, calling out, "I'm gonna win!"
That seemed to wake the other boy some more who was carrying his new pet in his arms. He tightened his grip on the reptilian skin and sped up his walk into a run as well. He noticed Callum far ahead, intending to take the stairs and race down more halls to get to the lower levels where the dining hall was. He giggled and changed veered off his course to the left, to a door that was partially obscured by a heavy, crimson drape. He turned the knob and slipped in. Inside was no boiler room or abandoned construction area, but a small space the maids occupied to travel between floors at certain hours of the day to finish their tasks on schedule. It was a rule that no one but maids were allowed inside, but Ezran knew that this specific area was accessed by a door on all stops, separated from the rooms where the maids worked. He could hear noise coming from the other doors, some hollering and many footsteps, but no one was inside the stair area.
He approached raced down the stairs. His little breaths tickled Bait, who felt more lost than ever. The halls were beginning to grow on him, but this castle was seriously too big to deal with, and the boy Ezran always managed to surprise him. Secret vents, hiding in bushes, and now stairways behind drapes. Bait knew it must be a shortcut since the taller boy with the moppy, flat hair mentioned winning. This was a race, and Bait was just along for the ride.
He grumbled and flashed pink.
Ezran stopped at the lower platform of the stairs and slipped through the drape-hidden exit to the first floor there. A little farther down the same hall were the kitchen and dining room. The snicker from the human shook the glow toad, who had begun to recognize the smell of pastries growing stronger was no coincidence. Well, it's not like he was hungry, but he could eat a tart or three.
Setting Bait down on the floor with care, Ezran turned the knob and entered the dining room, all set up already with the day's breakfast. Off to the side, contrasting the bright colors of fruits and desserts, stood a dark figure. After a few moments, the figure turned and revealed a perky Claudia. A tiny, steaming cup sat on the table in front of her, still embraced by her hands.
"It's a lovely morning."
"O—"
The door slammed open.
"Wha—How?!" Callum panted some more and then pointed an accusing finger. "Seriously, how are you here before me? It's too early in the morning for this," he groaned, slumping onto the door.
"Hot brown morning potion?" Claudia offered.
"Oh, hi Claudia," he offered back half-heartedly. "Will it wake me up?"
"Oh, will it," she chuckled. "On second thought, I don't think I want to say goodbye to sleepy Callum. He is very relaxed."
"Did you make it?" Ezran asked. Claudia nodded.
"It took a few tries. There were failures, but that doesn't matter," she insisted. "This baby is perfect!"
"Who drank the failures?" Ezran continued, seeing as Callum was busy trying to decide what to eat.
"Soren did."
Ezran felt for her poor brother, he really did.
"Hey, there's croissants this morning, and some of the cream cheese pastries!"
"Orrrr the nutritious dishes like sausage and scrambled eggs," Ezran teased. Callum shot a pointed look at his plate, which was somehow already loaded with jelly tarts. The smaller boy rotated the plate in his hands a little to show the other side blocked by the tart pile. There was a minuscule serving of egg next to half a sausage. Callum looked skyward.
"Alright, you two, serve yourselves and sit down," Claudia called with mirth. The boys spoke to each other but listened all the same, with Callum putting more servings of "nutritious dishes" on Ezran's plate. They sat down across from her, mindful of the other three seats set up by the staff.
"Why aren't they here yet?" Callum questioned. Claudia spared a glance to the seat next to her, and Ezran copied her. Bait croaked back at the boy's stare with a proud bearing and jelly-coated crumbs around his mouth.
"Knowing dad, he's probably talking to your parents about some interspecies affair. It's all he does at home. He hasn't had time to relax, lately. It worries me and mom." The dark-haired potions prodigy sighed despondently, chin on her palm and finger stroking the handle of her mug.
"Are you guys okay?" asked Callum. Ezran was flabbergasted at Callum's casual audacity. Of course, Callum was usually slow on the uptake with social cues, especially with girls, and even more especially with Claudia. At least Claudia wasn't as reserved as most people are.
"We're all doing fine," she replied in a strained voice. "It's just that, Soren—"
"Good morning," Viren said levelly, walking through the door. Claudia stopped looking conflicted and smiled at her father. For some reason, the boys felt unsettled by the timing and effect of his entrance but greeted their friend's father with politeness.
They have always known that Claudia's parents and their parents were close friends with each other, and that's why they expected Callum and Ezran to be friends with Soren and Claudia. It was easy to like the sister, but the brother was too rough with his hands and words. They usually steered clear of him when it got to that. However, Lissa wasn't here this time, and neither was Soren. Lissa was the more approachable one of the two, and her presence even made talking to Viren easier. His intimidating presence was more pronounced this morning without her. Even Claudia stopped talking, which was something.
The quiet reigned for a moment. Outside, the clouds were grey and kept passing over the bright sun, casting the room into a shadowed light every now and then through the glass windows. The switch paused on the shadowed light, adding a damper to the mood.
He joined them with his loaded plate, frowning at their silence. He looked over to the view of Katolis. Although they were on the first floor, the manor had been built on a strategical hill to overlook the plains and forest around it. There were carpeted stairs throughout the halls to connect the first floor together despite the difference in ground levels. In some rooms, such as the dining room, the ground level was high enough to peer over the walls surrounding the manor and into the city less than a kilometer away. The lord of Del Bar was aware that his personality was... intense, to say the least. Not many were willing to get past that part of him nor did they do so with good intentions. Nobles mostly constituted those who did, though mostly for personal gain. Harrow had been the first to see eye-to-eye on Viren's passion for politics, studies, and friendships. Because of Harrow, Viren learned how to have fun, and he met Lissa and they fell in love. Sarai met him toe-to-toe on passions; they just never seemed to be on the same side.
These children were of nobility, but they didn't connect to him or understand his disdain for jokes. He felt that his entrance not only interrupted Claudia, but it also put their ease on pause and is the reason they weren't talking. He wished they wouldn't because he'd rather they have fun than not. At least for right now.
"Your silence is fit for a classroom, not a shared meal." The three kids eyed each other quietly, one of them wishing their Gryffindor companion was present to spark a conversation seeing as none of them would. Viren resisted muttering under his breath.
"Also, your mother and father are busy this morning. They told me to tell you they'll be late for that reason."
"Is something wrong?" Ezran asked, concerned. Callum also looked at Viren expectedly.
"Why wouldn't it be?" Claudia said innocently. Viren looked at her with amusement at how her words paralleled Sarai's the day before. He didn't want his children to be left in the dark, and it seemed that Harrow's kids caught onto the severity of the matter, even if not entirely.
"They're just planning for a trip when you and your brother leave for Hogwarts. Something about catching up on old times."
Immediately, the boys scrunched up their faces, a loud "ew" and "yuck" lightening the mood. The clouds started moving again and a bright light streamed through the windows. They went on, ignoring the disturbed glow toad that backed away from their increased noise. Claudia laughed at their expense, and they continued talking, much to Viren's pleasure. They might've understood his words the wrong way, but he didn't lie. After all, Sarai did mention greeting her sister at the Banther Lodge to catch up on each other's lives.
It seemed the sky's fluctuating mood with the sun gave out. Rain clouds poured heavily, causing street shops to close up and others to board up the windows. The pavement kept splattering regardless of anyone stepping, and a step would cause the water to jump up spectacularly. People took shelter in the homelier cafes and bakeries, those who were familiar with the effects of the weather. Inside, they grumbled about the pompous restaurants that turned them out.
Reckless children splashed about in another corner outside, their laughs drowned out by the sound of water falling. A woman popped her head out and shouted at them, though they only paid heed when an angry, underdressed man stormed out of the house at the woman's behest. The week's paper poked out from under his umbrella, causing it to run wet with the rain.
Yet another person walked down the streets. Unlike the unruly children, they had on a sleek coat with a hood that hung over their face, covering it from the weather. It extended all the way down, a few centimeters off the ground. Matching heeled boots peeked out from under the coat, showing no sign of dampness from the accumulated rain on the ground. It washed over them, making contact but never truly touching them. They walked out to the borders of the town. Sentries stopped the figure, wearing similar dark coats but looking less important. It was probably because their hoods extended less and clung to their faces, which were wet.
"Name or wand, please."
The person reached into a pocket and took out a wand. The guards remained unfazed, believing that the powerful wards on the grounds would erase magical threats. While waiting for their wand to register them, they thought that it was a pity the guards were not trained to be more alert. Who's to say a wand would be produced from a pocket? What about a dagger or pistol?
Meanwhile, the guard who took the wand held the tip to an enchanted paper, which showed the personal details and face of the wand's owner.
"Atarah of Katolis," the guard drew out, turning to face the figure. "Could you lift your hood to confirm you are indeed this person?"
She complied, scrunching up the edge of the hood to show her face. He looked at her features and deemed it a match.
"Reason for leaving?"
"Visiting an acquaintance."
"Very well," he replied tiredly. His hand offered the wand back. "Enjoy the time off-duty." His voice denoted more sincerity.
She knew from her days on border patrol that he knew she was off-duty from the magical registration paper noting down her job as a mage guard at the manor. Normally, it was amusing to try and guess if the guard on duty would recognize her and behave submissively or if they were new and would treat her like a fellow guard. Her name was never really extolled, but that meant she was doing a good job not attracting too much attention. Some of her more experienced colleagues either knew her from the days she worked with them or from public events that required her to show her face and be at Lady Sarai's side. There were still plenty who had no idea who she was, like this guy. She smiled dryly, faint amusement peaking through her wariness, and took her wand back gladly.
"Thank you."
Casting one more look at the empty and flooded streets of Katolis, she disappeared with a loud pop.
Atarah swirled back into existence a few meters away from Diagon Alley. The ringing in her head happened again, and it wasn't pleasant. She recovered more quickly—or rather, forced herself to continue moving as if she did.
As she expected, it wasn't raining there. She lowered her hood and took off the coat, showing her green dress underneath. She would like to say it was just a dress, but this was also padded and enchanted to act as armor. The coat went into her customary bottomless pocket, folded thin and dried thanks to her wand. Her bun was slightly askew due to the hood and bothersome rain, but Atarah didn't bother fixing it. Not yet, anyway.
The interview with Aaravos was in a few hours. He had written down to meet at Hogwarts at seven in the evening, and it was some minutes after four right now. Her orders from Madam Malkin's had yet to arrive, so she came prepared with galleons to pay for a rush order or hopefully just pick it up. After making sure she was presentable, she continued walking to the shop.
Here, the day looked relatively nice. No shining sun, but no oppressive rain either. More crowds of young people fluttered around the shops, generating cheerful noise. Diagon Alley almost always proved to be a cheerful and magical place. The quaint shop Hogwarts delegated its students to for robes was open as well. Quietly, the young woman stepped in.
She noticed a section of the shop looked much more organized and open than it did on her last visit. That day must have been hectic for the madam, who told her that her clerk was gone and was apparently busy organizing the chaos of clothes. Despite that, she offered to personally assist Atarah, and she was courteous the entire time with her and her custom request. Atarah felt her respect for the shop owner grow.
At the checkout counter, a new person with curly, short hair stood and welcomed her. Atarah smiled back politely and approached the counter.
"Hello, I'm Atarah, a returning customer. I made a custom order here yesterday and paid for prioritized service. I'll need the order shortly. Is it already complete?"
"Well, this is short notice, but I'll check for you. What did you say your name was?"
"Atarah," she replied, feeling sorry for being that customer. Truly, she respected this business, but she also received short notice.
"I'm Florencia. One quick second, please." With a customer-service smile, Florencia disappeared behind a door in the back. Atarah's gaze swept the room one more time, reminding herself that she had a couple of hours left anyway and willing the nerves in her belly to go away. After a few minutes, Florencia emerged from the back door.
"You ordered nine robes for fall and winter and one custom dress, yes?"
"Yes, that's correct."
The clerk raised an eyebrow. "A whole new wardrobe, huh? Glad you came to us for that. Anyways, we have all of your order except for the custom dress ready to be picked up. That will be available tomorrow, and we can still deliver it to you if you want."
She wanted to blame Callum for building up her hopes, but she also was invested in the idea of her wearing the dress as a professor. It was a small light on this dark day for her, but she tried to not let it show. She offered a smile instead, nodding that she would like to pick the other orders up. Florencia went through the door again but took less time coming back, carrying two large packages.
"This one is for fall," she said, letting the bottom box fall from under her arms to the counter. "And this," Florencia went on, dropping the second box on top, "is for winter." She crossed her arms and looked up at Atarah.
Hesitantly, Atarah reached for the second box, placing it on top of the other one. The clerk commented that she was going to check the aisles quickly and left. The mage guard lifted the top from the box and saw the four fall robes she ordered folded inside. One of them would have to do for the interview. Perhaps the brown one. It had splendid buttons and pleats, more detailed than her current green one and more mature-looking.
"Excuse me?" Atarah called. "Clerk?"
Around a corner, the head of curly bronze hair popped out. "Yes?"
"Is there a changing room I could use here?"
"Oh, oh of course, it's over here." She made her way to Atarah and made to lead her to the rooms. The door to the shop opened, and a huffy old woman stepped through, carrying a tote bag and calling for Florencia.
"Hello, dear, I wasn't expecting to see you here today!"
Atarah looked at the out-of-breath woman, recognizing her now. "Good afternoon, madam, I'm here to pick up the dresses. I'm going to put this one on," she added, bringing up her arm to show the brown robes draped over it.
"I'm not one to judge, but you certainly expect quick service." Florencia's smiling eyes darted to Madam Malkin with an indiscernible look.
"Circumstances," was all Atarah could say after stammering for a moment. "I have an important event to attend. An interview for a job," she hastily went on. "I only found out this morning." Then she awkwardly turned her body fully to both women and bowed slightly, robes still on her arm. "I apologize for the inconvenience."
The short woman looked at the distressed girl in front of her and chuckled. "Calm down, dear. This is nothing, believe me. Your orders were already in stock and you paid to be prioritized. Plus," she drew out, setting her bag down. Her hands reached into the bag, pulling out a brilliant vermillion and brass-colored dress. Pride filled her face. "I finished your order."
Atarah's heart grew warm. She felt her face smile.
"It's..."
She looked at the rich colors of the dress, fingering the details at cuffs and subtle patterns on the sleeves.
"Lovely." She looked at the shop owner who preened at her customer's reaction, grinning at her and her stunned assistant.
"Put it on, then!" shooed Madam Malkin. She grabbed the brown robes off Atarah's arm and motioned for her to go into the changing room. She complied, quickly changing into the dress and walking out. The heeled boots she wore didn't interfere with the look of the outfit. Just to make sure, she patted the pleats in the skirt until she found the slits and slid her hands through so her hands sat snugly in the pockets of her pants. When she went back into the shop, she wanted to ask how to remove the skirt as they discussed. After expressing her approval of Atarah's appearance, Madam Malkin responded to her question.
"Reach under the fold along your hips—yes, right there, dear. The original design to unclip the skirt, it was a good one, yes, but inefficient. I used a uniform belt of sorts—you can't feel it? Good, good! The more comfortable, the better. Oh, you simply detach the belt, like so, and then..."
She showed Atarah how to unclip the front parts and showed how from there it came off. "Voila! And then just hide the belt in there again and clip it to reattach." She did it exactly that, connecting the skirt to the top and patting it down. "Got it?"
The door opened again, and a group of friends entered the shop, greeted by Florencia.
"Yes, thank you."
Atarah went turned back to the door of the changing room, though the madam had arrested her arm with a questioning look. "Aren't you going to wear this to that interview?"
"This is not for that," Atarah said vaguely, but it was possible that the elder woman picked up on her desire to wear it. Sarai and Harrow's orders rung in her head vividly. She could not be Atarah of Katolis anymore, even though she longed to wear its colors and style her hair with pride.
"I see, dear," she said softly. "Good luck with your meeting." The woman patted the girl's upper arm and left, leaving Atarah to enter and change into the brown dress she settled on earlier. She folded the shining and smooth fabric of the dress, wondering if she was a fool for still ordering and paying for the dress.
She went to the front, seeing her packages placed to the side and her own green dress she had been holding inside as well. Technically, there was time to go back and leave this in Katolis, but she truly felt that if she went back now, she'd skip going to the interview. At the same time, asking for it to be delivered after all she did seemed like pouring salt on a fresh wound.
"Hm? Oh, do you want it delivered?" Florencia asked when she saw Atarah staring at the boxes.
"No... I'll come to pick it up later today." She began to move again, sticking her hand into her pocket through the skirt and withdrawing her hand, holding a pile of galleons.
"You already paid—"
"I enjoyed the service I received here." And after grabbing the clerk's hand to place the coins there, she said, "Thank you—" she racked her memory for the name she gave her, "—Florencia."
"Don't call me that," was the automatic response, which startled Atarah. Had she caused the clerk to have a bad day or offended her? "I mean, it's such a long name. Call me Flo."
Relief filled her thoughts, but the mage only nodded and turned to leave the shop. She understood why so many people liked this shop.
"Hang on!"
Atarah paused and looked at the owner of the voice.
"Your interview, where is it?"
Atarah debated not telling her for a split-second but reasoned that no one here could understand the implications of her applying there. "Hogwarts."
Madam Malkin appraised the girl one more time, recognizing that the young woman must be accomplished or know important people to be interviewing there at this time of year. "Mind the weather there, I just came from Hogsmeade and it's like the skies are emptying their water reserves! Do you need a coat? We have quite the variety."
It was raining over there too? And it sounds like it won't be any more pleasant than the weather in Katolis right now. "That's alright, I've already got one. Thank you for telling me."
"Alright, dear, take care of yourself." And then Madam Malkin disappeared behind a rack of clothes. Atarah summoned the coat from her pocket, left the shop, and put it on. Steeling her nerves, she imagined Hogsmeade and Apparated.
Her knees faltered but didn't buckle. The rain caught her by surprise still, pelting her through the fabric of the hood and cloak. It was louder than Katolis, all kinds of people milling the streets despite the weather's onslaught. Orange lights flared through windows and inside people gathered to enjoy social life. She entered one such building: the Three Broomsticks Inn.
No one noticed the door admit a new person. Tables were inhabited by men and elves, a mix of magic folk. Someone shouted that pets weren't allowed, stepping away from a silver-eyed wolf. An elf watching countered that it's wasn't suitable to travel now and that he already bought a drink. Other groups chattered and laughed, pointing fingers at each other and fighting over who was right. Everyone refrained from using magic, and rightly so because no one wanted to get kicked out into the rain. Atarah grabbed a chair from a table near the door, left empty in favor of the warmth farther in the room. The tables all around were taken, and a spot was missing a chair like someone took it to fit into their group's table. She carried it along the side of the room, stopping when she was in the middle of the mess. Then the chair was settled on the floor right next to the wall. She sat down, seeking anonymity from the crowded area. That, and she also didn't want to be near the drafty door.
She decided to wait inside, either for the rain to let up or for the interview to approach. Lord Harrow gave her the okay to be open with Archmage Aaravos. He explained the connection between his family and the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and trusting his wife's claims of Atarah's knowledge of history to be enough for the job.
Working for Lady Sarai is the only reason Atarah is aware people do not treat her respectfully. Sarai never seemed to give off a snobbish air even though she had a confident personality. She prided herself on who she was and seemed embarrassed by titles. It reflected her previous station as a civilian woman, though she probably had bad experiences with nobles to warrant her dislike of labels. Atarah never spoke to her at the beginning, thinking it was part of her job to remain in the background and serve. It seemed Sarai believed the opposite. She was always making terrible jokes and discreetly smiling at Atarah like they were both in on it. It was the friendliness the lady showed her that made her realize how everyone else held her at a distance.
On their trips alone, Sarai would converse with her guard and talk about the day and memories (good ones, embarrassing ones, personal ones). In doing so, Atarah adapted to a new way of talking, seeing as how she was used to speaking extremely formally. However, Sarai recognized that Atarah had to focus to do her job and would respectfully remain quiet in public. It wasn't ignoring her because she'd do little things keep a door open or glance at her to make sure she was alright. Occasionally, she'd look toward Atarah and ask for help or advice, and Atarah delivered. Near the end of their first year together, she began telling Atarah to stop calling her by her title and being formal. It does make sense since before she became her guard, her sister was the one protecting her.
She never met the famed General Amaya, since she was serving at border patrol while Amaya served at the manor. When she got reassigned and promoted, Amaya had gone on a diplomatic mission with the Sunfire elves. Apparently, she made ties to someone important during a trip with Sarai, and now she was busy trying to stabilize territorial wars on unsettled land with them. People only had good things to say about the missed woman, leaving an impression on Atarah of a warrior with great internal and external strength. In Amaya's absence, Atarah became part of a quartet in charge of protecting Sarai, reflecting the extent of the previous guard's abilities. She did for the better part of a year.
Following the incident of a serious attempt on Sarai's life, the four guards were given leave to recover from the injuries. It was then that Sarai announced she was choosing Atarah to be her personal guard, interested by the stranger who had fought so hard to save her. Amaya's lieutenant, Commander Gren, was tasked with training Atarah to be up for the job. For two years and going, she was trained to improve her mental thought process and represent Katolis to others. Then spell dueling, identifying poisons, and knowing cures and counters among other things.
It was in politics that she didn't necessarily start from zero in. Atarah had to learn about the more recent events but knew plenty about history. She didn't go to Hogwarts partly because she wasn't nobility and because she hadn't known it existed. Only mages went to Hogwarts, and that consisted of nearly every elf and the human nobility. Elves naturally linked to magic, but not all humans could channel magic. There were plenty of names for people like them, and Atarah thought herself part of them when she was a girl. She didn't have a mother who received a letter of acceptance by owl for her eligibility at Hogwarts or a brother to shop at Ollivander's with. Atarah was dropped off at an orphanage as a baby, and she received her education from the yellowed books they used to teach them how to read and the pub down the street from the building.
No one had liked her features. Everyone else had rounded eyes and different skin. She was too light and not dark enough; she was too quiet; she was weird and they wanted her to get away from them. Even the staff, who were a kind crowd, stood and watched her be ostracized with hardened eyes. It wasn't traumatizing, but it was just enough to chip away at her sense of worth. She didn't know that as a child, but she felt it. She felt how she didn't matter and often slipped away from the orphanage to get away from the stares and forced loneliness. Chosen loneliness stung less.
Her memory of meeting her mentor was vague, but she did remember feeling thankful for the kindness he showed her. It was probably something stupid and little, or maybe he saved her life, but she wandered back to that place many times when she could and saw him again. He was a reserved man, acknowledging her when he saw her until he got curious and learned she lived at the orphanage. He always laughed and told her that she copied a lot of his mannerisms, and that it was amusing to see a young girl sitting on a crate with a serious look and saying things like "it grieves me to hear that" and "your soul seems weary, rest."
He was a scholar, but people undermined him the way they did her. She complained about her literary lessons to him, and he countered her opinions with a passion. He spoke of stories of sorrow and hope, life lessons, and books that changed the world. Books tell you about the inner parts of people: their thoughts and motives. They explained why things are the way they are.
He told her books can tell you about who you are and where you come from.
Aside from his claim that she always copied him, Atarah could not deny that knowing more about her history piqued her interest. It helped that her mentor was proud of her newfound interest and taught her what he knew and gave her things to read. He told her the story behind men and elves and the wars between them and amongst the races themselves. He said that she was lucky to look so different because her features originated from the Oriental clans, and they had a special history and culture; she could use her looks to trace back to her family. But both of them knew that Atarah wouldn't be going on a journey like that any time soon.
He tried comforting her once, when her mind was going crazy soaking in information and she got frantic about learning more about where she came from. Atarah was confused with what he said, but he awkwardly dismissed his words, not knowing that they were already stuck in her head. She wondered if they were more alike than he let on because it sounded like he had been thinking hard about it. He was embarrassed when she was asked what he meant, though he usually patronized her. Still, Atarah never did well with philosophy, so she took his attempt to respond to her questions to mean that the questions weren't important, and honestly, she could see why he was right. To this day, no one cared about her origins and seemed content making their assumptions about her instead of asking. She can only cover so much with Sarai over trips that happened twice a year, and Gren doesn't like getting personal. Her other acquaintances rarely speak with her, busy themselves.
This interview she has will not delve into that either. All she has to do is explain not being a noble and being well-read. Her competition is dead. Literally.
Breaking out of her reverie, the mage asked a barmaid what the time was.
"It's almost six o'clock," came the response before the maid bustled on through the room. On any other day, she'd wait another half hour to start moving, but she had to account for the weather today and the fact that you can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds. She stood from her chair, leaving it against the wall, and dragged her hood on before exiting the inn. Perhaps it was from spending so much time with her teacher in that pub growing up, but she felt calm in those settings. There was something nostalgic about it.
Hogsmeade was a village full of surprises for its quaint appearance. The view was obscured by the heavy rain, but she had a good sense of direction and checked out a map before leaving Katolis. Hogsmeade had a train station that Hogwarts would book out for its students on the first day of school, winter break, and the end of school. From there, there was a path to go to Hogwarts by carriage. That was what Atarah planned to tread to get to Hogwarts. There's no way she's crossing the Black Lake.
She walked toward the train station, noticing a distant, bulky shape there. As she got closer, she noticed two things. One, that it was a carriage, and two, it had a window that an elf was looking through. For a moment, the woman reflected on her appearance and wondered if the cloak she was wearing made her look suspicious. The head in the window disappeared and in the second after that, shoes touched the ground on the other side of the carriage. The elf had a hood-less, purple cloak on and was carrying an umbrella. He could pass for a human if it weren't for the curved horns jutting out from the sides of his head and the lilac markings on his skin.
"Hello, you're the human mage with an interview at Hogwarts in an hour, right?"
She was taken aback. "Yes."
"Herbology, right?"
"History."
The elf nodded to himself and waved a hand as if to say follow me. He led her into the carriage through an open door, closing the umbrella carefully to avoid dripping water all over the place. Inside the carriage was a small but comfortable space. The seats were plush instead of flat like the chair at the inn. Fashionable fabrics draped along the sides of the inside. Atarah minded the roof and gathered her coat around her so it was all in the carriage.
With practiced quickness, her hand grabbed hold of her wand and cast a drying spell. Then she sat down and reluctantly took off her hood, watching the silver-haired elf close the door and lay the umbrella on the floor. He took the seat across her, exhaling deeply and then flashing her a grin. Then he got a good look at her face and blinked. She too froze when she recognized his features were that of the Moonshadow elves. He broke the silence first, trying to regain a smile.
"Normally the carriages are less accommodating, but the rain and specialty of the visit called for this one. How are you?" he asked in an accented voice.
"Dry, thanks to you." She offered a slight incline of her head but made sure to remove sincerity from it. That gesture was reserved for Lady Sarai and Lord Harrow.
"What was your name again?"
"My name is Atarah."
"I'm Ethari." He held out his hand for her to shake. "Groundskeeper of Hogwarts. Also the professor for Care of Magical Creatures."
She extended her hand and grabbed his, making sure to keep her ring finger and pinky together out of respect that she was the one with the extra appendage of the two of them. He looked at her quietly and then smiled again.
"It's usual for a teacher to change every few years at Hogwarts—"
Atarah raised an eyebrow. It was? She wondered if she should be worried.
She also wondered if Ethari was dangerous.
"—but changing two teachers in the same year is a little different. What prompted the sudden application?"
"Well, actually, Headmaster Aaravos is the one who sent the sudden notice. I'm following up on his request."
She left out the real reason for her joining the staff and tried redirecting his suspicion. It's common knowledge that Aaravos was an enigmatic and untouchable figure in the world. No one questioned his actions. Though, honestly, Atarah was starting to feel like her interview started early.
"Oh, so that's what happened. Can't say it surprises me," he accepted. For some reason, his appearance and voice were an odd match in Atarah's opinion. It sounded friendly but looked unfamiliar to her. Unlike the light hair people she knew had, there was nothing golden about the pale hair he had. It was styled in a cropped style. His skin's markings on his face were aesthetic but new enough that Atarah had to restrain herself from gawking at him. She wanted to observe the rest of his features and analyze his movements, but he was looking right at her and they were less than five feet apart. It would be rude to be so shameless, and she already almost did so.
"Two new teachers?"
"Yes. For DADA. This is why I was curious about why you were coming today since originally it was just supposed to be the two of them."
She left her muscles devoid of extra tension despite feeling worried. The Headmaster hadn't mentioned this in his letter.
"I don't doubt the both of you will be accepted. Well, I'm glad we started off on a good foot," Ethari quoted in his strange-friendly accent. She acknowledged the human phrase he threw in for her with a tiny smile. He turned his gaze to the window. "It's really a shame the weather isn't agreeable this evening. Hogwarts is always a beauty to behold." He let his head lean against the side of the carriage.
In a soft voice, he said, "It's a second home for me."
Atarah swiftly looked him over while his attention was diverted, filing his continued markings and penchant for intricate, metal jewelry away in her head. Just as quickly, she looked away, to the window where he was looking. The trees were beginning to thin out. After a few beats, they cleared away. However, there was no grand sight. There was, though, a broken-down building standing before a large lake. Ethari seemed enamored by it, though, so Atarah kept her mouth shut. After a few more minutes of riding in the carriage, it stopped.
"Alright, here's our stop." Ethari opened the door and picked up the umbrella. He got out, looking back at the human mage and asking if she needed assistance. She shook her head and got out, covering her head with the draping hood again. The horses moving the carriages went on, leaving the woman and the elf stranded in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps there was a portkey to bypass the Anti-Apparation charm?
He walked toward a wooden sign saying "keep out" and stopped. At that moment, she knew what he was going to do and understood what was going on. A charm to prevent unwanted visits, hiding the school grounds from view. Her companion rose a palm and pushed against the air. A subtle burst of magic traveled in the air, not upsetting the fall of the rain but making contact all the same.
Her jaw dropped.
The castle was bigger than Katolis manor. It had a gothic design and many towers. The pale-haired elf noticed her pause and looked at her face.
"The nostalgia's kicking in now, isn't it?" he asked with a blossoming smile. She dazedly followed him, hearing him distantly tell her he would guide her to the meeting. Her body fell in line, absorbing the new environment. By the time they entered the castle, she had better control of her expressions. Sure, she'd never been in a building with so many portraits (who were talking to each other and looking at her), but they were nothing new. The moving stairways? Almost made her whip out her wand, which she had been thumbing the whole time. And it was so big. She wasn't even sure how Ethari knew where he was going.
They were walking down a corridor to a gargoyle. Ethari cleared his throat.
"Metamorphosis."
"What?" she asked after a beat of silence. The arch with the gargoyle rumbled and then it shifted up, revealing spiraling stairs. Atarah made a small 'o' shape with her mouth. She looked at Ethari, expecting him to continue leading her through secret passages, but he moved off to the side.
"The stairs lead to Aaravos's office. I would say good luck, but I don't think you'll need it."
She looked at him, judging. He seemed friendly enough, but she only just met him. She needed more information to properly label him a threat or not. A quiet voice warned her to not trust him. So far, only Headmaster Aaravos and Madam Opeli had been cleared as trustworthy. Everyone else here need not know her motives.
Atarah's face settled in a stoic stare, feeling the ghost of this morning inhabit her body again. She went up the stairs without a word quickly as she could.
No one actually cared about the truth here. It was as useless as knowing where you came from was. If you obey and stay out of the spotlight, you can live peacefully. All she was right now was the guardian of two children who needed her to have this interview so they can be safe. This was for Callum and Ezran, and for Lady Sarai and Lord Harrow. She had a job to do.
Nearer to the top, Atarah heard the sound of a hushed conversation carry over to where she was. When reached the last stair, there weren't anymore winding halls or passages. Right outside the alcove was a large, open room. There was a symmetry to the design. Bookshelves boarded up against the walls with mirrored stairs leading to a higher platform in the room. Two pillars in the middle connected to beautiful arches. Foreign objects were strewn across the room, looking to be astrological contraptions and other mysterious things.
Most notable were the two elves standing in the middle of the open space. The recognizable one, though she had never seen him before, was the Startouch Archmage. His body seemed to be made of galaxies and the hues of a purple twilight. Innumerable constellations covered his exposed arms and splattered over the area along the bridge of his nose. Three diamond stars, larger than the rest of the twinkling ones (yes, they were twinkling, it was slow but noticeable), sat side-by-side on his cheeks and an even larger one glowed on his chest. His horns differed so much from any other elf she had seen, looking thicker and taller. He was so beautiful, she managed to admire his looks despite the instincts going off alarmingly in her head at the other elf.
When she managed to stop looking at the star-freckled elf, Atarah just so happened to make eye contact with the second Moonshadow elf she encountered at Hogwarts. Where the Startouch had glowing amber eyes, this Moonshadow had cold blue eyes that regarded her unpleasantly. He wore teal robes and had an angular face with two bold markings across his nose. Both elves' hair was kept long, but he groomed it into a low ponytail and smaller ones framing his face. It was indescribable, being in a room with two different types of intimidating presences. Aaravos had strength from his magical prowess and fame nobody dared challenge, allowing him to act freely.
This stranger had strength from his imposing figure and the look he gave her devoid of all compassion and goodness. It was the bearing of someone unafraid of facing death or dealing it.
A/N: Glow toads resemble chameleons (reptiles) more than toads (amphibians). Also, I envision Madam Malkin's as a bigger shop than what's shown in the movies or the shop in real life, taking creative liberties with that. I know it seems weird to have not included the scene with the letter from Aaravos and how it all went down, but I'm not ignoring it. It's just that the impact it had on Atarah surpasses what happened and I need the focus to be that and the build-up for the interview for now. In time, I'll reveal what happened and who said what. It all finally starts in the next chapter.
Thank you for reading, favoriting/following, and reviewing! Night Whisperer, you're on the money. All in good time, though. Stay safe, you guys.
Okay, so I changed a scene in Madam Malkin's shop. I will mention this again next chapter.