Ch. 22- Uncharted Waters
Even on a normal day, when Jonovan Malam Orion walked through the halls of Hogwarts people got out of his way. He was an intense person, both in the classroom and out of it, everybody felt and adjusted slightly to his presence no matter what they were doing. This particular morning, as he marched through the school with sharp steps and a piercing gaze, students ran.
His stride was accompanied by speculative whispers, everyone thinking the same thing; he'd seen the article. He must have. And, it seemed, he'd found the culprit. Everyone was panicking at the idea of what he was going to do to the author of the Scandals… and intrigued. So any student the Assistant walked by scuttled out of his path, held their breath for a few agonizing seconds, then joined the growing crowd that trailed a distance behind him.
Their assumptions as to his punishment became more medieval as they walked, speculation going from incinerating the culprit to using Filtch's old torture tools. Orion knew they were following him, knew they were expecting a show, but he was unconcerned. He needed to confirm the identity of the culprits before giving the spectacle he felt was deserved.
His entrance into the Great Hall was understated, finally curbing in his smoldering temper to glide forward at a less clipped pace. The other Professors barely looked up, though so many students gathered on a Sunday morning was a mite unusual. Walking along the Ravenclaw table Jon scanned their faces until he found the one he was looking for, calling the name to mind: Lysander Scamander, Sixth Year Keeper, frequent companion of Zoey on a daily basis, penchant for keeping his nose in a book and also a House… Prefect. With a twin brother. Orion paused, his fingers moving slowly against nothing as his mind swirled with fresh possibilities.
Lysander has looked up at the Assistant's approach, his heel slowly tapping on the ground as he waited. It was obvious that Orion had been seeking him out, but something seemed to have stopped the man short. He followed the gaze to his right chest, where his Ravenclaw House and Prefect Badges gleamed side by side on his blue lined robes.
"Scamander," Orion muttered, seemingly more to himself than the boy in front of him.
"Sir?" he eventually ventured after waiting for the man to continue. "Did you need something?"
Finally lifting his gaze to look the boy in the eye, Orion waited a heartbeat before nodding once. His voice, while not particularly loud, still carried easily toward the eavesdroppers. "Indeed. I am considering assigning a teacher's aid to assist grading next semester; for extra credit, of course. I would like you for the position, but I seem to have forgotten your many responsibilities. Would you have time for anything else?"
Many Ravenclaw eyes had gleamed at the words 'extra credit', but they didn't dare jump in to claim the opportunity. Lysander was too well respected for that. The crowd that had stalked Orion glanced at each other; what was this? Did the assistant actually not know about the article yet? They tried to hide their disappointment as they started to disperse.
The boy nodded once. "I may be able to- but to be honest, sir, I am not certain. It will depend on our success in the quidditch finals so, not to insult, but I sincerely hope that I won't."
Orion half smiled in his usual manner, taking a piece of bacon off the table and feeding it to Rasputin as the murtlap stood on his shoulder. "None taken. I'll have to watch the season, then-" he half turned to go and then stopped, looking back as though he'd just remembered "-Oh. I meant to congratulate you on your costume on Halloween. That raven mask you made was well-inspired and quite unique. It would have been nice had you been at the feast."
"Thank you, sir. I actually was at the feast, but in a different mask. My brother Lorcan, in one of his usual impulsive whims, grew bored of his and took mine. I didn't mind; the costume made reading rather difficult."
A number of Ravenclaws nodded agreement with the notion.
"Silver lining," Orion muttered, turning away. "See you at class, Lysander."
Lysander went back to the book he'd put under the table for their conversation, thinking the exchange strangely brief but more interested in adjusting his personal schedule to get that extra credit.
Jonovan joined the Professor's table, whispering to his familiar. As his master sat for a quick breakfast, the murtlap dropped to the floor and vanished with purpose among the many feet below the tables of the Great Hall. Rasputin had a mission.
Scorpius Malfoy rolled his neck in an attempt to loosen the muscles that were threatening to lock up on him. He and the Slytherin team had spent most all of Saturday running drills on the practice field, which had been open because of a freezing rain. Odetta, of course, had jumped on the vacancy and used the whole field to scrimmage starters against reserves.
It had been the best practice of the year, despite the foul weather and persisting cold he would have for a few days. Scorpius had been on the reserve group- begrudgingly- but they'd given the starters a good run for their money. In fact, if they hadn't been running the same plays against each other Scorpius suspected that he might have scored even more hoops. Even though they'd been less skilled he and the two other reserves has passed liberally between themselves and gained an edge, as the trio was concerned with getting progress and not just individual scoring. They'd 'lost' by only twenty points, and that was while muscling a path through the starters' very physical defense.
Luckily he'd avoided the bludgers that'd been sent his way; with his pale complexion he was sporting some very large and dark bruises just from stray elbows and body blows. He didn't particularly relish the idea of sporting larger wounds, though for another game like that he would take it gladly. It had been exhilarating. That was how quidditch was supposed to be played- brains and strategy overtaking brute force. Or at least getting close.
Despite his soft bed the night had been distinctly uncomfortable with his swelling injuries, so even though Scorpius knew that he should be taking advantage of the vacant Library this Sunday morning he found that he wasn't particularly keen to get up from the Slytherin Common's soft couch. Besides, his new research focus wasn't easily found outside of the Restricted Section.
"That'll put me in the path of his queen!" one of the white pawns protested her decree. "Make him move instead!"
Priscilla just cleared her throat at her errant set, it was recently purchased and still needed a bit of breaking in. The enchanted stonework took her order with no small amount of muttered protests. "Always the pawns that get pushed around…"
He heard Priscilla tap the clock and looked back down at their chess match, quickly seeing which of her options she'd chosen before responding "Knight to F6."
It moved without hesitation.
"You seem distracted," Priscilla Parkinson asked as she took his black bishop and ignored the pieces' conversation- "No! No not me, you'll lose that pawn next turn!" it protested while the pawn shrilly cried "Victory or death!"- instead looking up at her younger friend through her eyelashes. "Does that have anything to do with Halloween night?"
"Our excursion wasn't as successful as I'd hoped." Scorpius answered. She meant more than the trip into the Restricted Section, but that was all he'd talk about at the moment. He had too many mixed emotions about the other things that'd happened since.
Priscilla seemed to realize this, and sighed as she looked at the board. She was acting disappointed but wasn't actually surprised by his insistence on focusing on other things instead. "Are you serious about this sorcery hogwash? That's just a muggle fantasy."
"Funny thing about their 'fantasies'-" Scorpius muttered, "About half the time they tend to be right. After all, we exist, don't we? I'm not saying their description of sorcery exists, but what if at one point it was a branch of magic that was specialized in? There are countless types and fields of magic out there. Who's to say that, over the years, a few haven't been forgotten? Who's to say that squibs don't just have a different kind of magic than most?"
She clapped lightly with a touch of dry sarcasm. "Bravo. All that from one word in some dead guy's diary."
"Memoire." Scorpius corrected her, not out of pettiness but rectifying a fact.
Her eyes twinkled with rare mischief, but her response was lost as she caught sight of the girl descending from the dorms. She poked Zambini, who was sleeping unceremoniously across the couch beside them. "She's up."
Marcellous Zambini, despite being known as being a somewhat lazy bum, was up in an instant, throwing off the green couch blanket he'd been using as he scrambled to become vertical. "Melissa!" He rushed to the stairs before he gathered himself, offering his hand for the last few steps in a gentlemanly manner. "How was your night?"
Melissa Goyle blushed but took his hand, muttering quietly "Good. No one really said anything."
"That's a mark for success," Priscilla nodded approvingly as she sat up and watched their previously exiled friend walk among the Slytherin group as though she'd always belonged. With the focus of the school on the new Scandals piece the hazing of the other squibs had reduced considerably. They'd convinced Melissa to leave the Hospital Wing late last night. "Say what you would about that ridiculous article, but the change of rumors had done that girl wonders."
"You don't want to know what I have to say about it," Scorpius promised as he picked up their forgotten chess match. Zambini's blanket had knocked the pieces over, much to their disapproval. "No respect for old traditions these days," his black king huffed. "You better polish us properly after this."
He didn't respond- his pieces were painstakingly waxed after every match until they glimmered good as new, and they knew it.
"It's a pity," Priscilla murmured, pulling him back to the present. "I liked Orion. This is the kind of career-ending scandal that could get him fired."
"Only if McGonagall gets actual evidence." Scorpius protested, though he wasn't sure why.
"Perception is reality, Malfoy. I'm fairly certain we all learned that our first day here." she spoke dryly, and to Scorpius's practiced ear he heard her lingering bitterness over that fact. He again wondered just how poorly she'd been treated alone her First Year, as the first child of the losing side to attend Hogwarts.
He eventually decided she wasn't looking for an answer. Scorpius knew she was right anyways; while the students were preparing to lynch the transfer upon her return the Faculty would undoubtedly do much the same to Orion.
The Slytherin had mixed feelings about the rumors going around. They upset him greatly, because while he wouldn't put something shady past that Orion character or be sad to see the assistant go he had trouble believing Zoethia Malam capable of that kind of duplicity. Scorpius was aware of her... fondness, for the Assistant, but he didn't see it as anything greater than that.
And Wainbata didn't deserve the no doubt cruel reception she'd get upon her return.
"Get out of the way," Theodore Nott told Melissa and Zambini as he brushed the bedhead out of his black hair. "Stop crowding the stairs you two, I've got practice to get to."
Scorpius looked up at the statement. "Dueling club?"
"Aye." Nott agreed as he walked by, then paused with surprise as Malfoy fell into step beside him. "You're coming?"
"Why not?" Scorpius muttered, looking down as he put his pieces back in their cushioned case. "It's good to observe the skills of the supposed best."
"Oi, that 'supposed' better not have been directed my way."
"Of course not," he said smoothly, but with a note of amusement. "I was planning to critique the other House teams. It'll be a laugh- maybe even fun."
He missed Nott's expression of distaste.
Priscilla looked between the boys and the rest of the common room, and decided that their activities would likely be more entertaining. She unfolded from her chair with the casual grace of rigid Pureblood upbringing. "Is there a chance we could join in for the day?"
Nott looked between the two impromptu participants, and then shrugged. He hoped his answer wouldn't scare them off- it'd be neat if they joined the club permanently. "Yeah, but you won't get to duel any standing members."
Malfoy looked Priscilla up and down. It had been a while since their last duel; years in fact. Priscilla had trounced him on the premise of actually knowing offensive spells, while his arsenal had only consisted of shields and Verdimillous at that point. "I could be content with that."
She caught the challenge in his gaze and smirked. Oh, this was going to be fun.
Looking between the two of them a second time, Nott adjusted his wish. He hoped they wouldn't scare off the rest of his club by breaking the arena.
There were few places as peaceful as a library. And Rose Granger-Weasley, daughter of Hermione Granger herself, knew Hogwarts' library like the back of her hand. Many a weekend she had spent exploring every shelf and studying over an old desk, sometimes well into the night.
This year, after gaining access to the Restricted Section to help tutor the transfer, her explorations had been renewed with the dual purpose of avoiding the drama that her family was catching itself in and- well- new books!
The novelty of it had quickly worn off though, as without anything particular to look for all that happened was Rose becoming disappointed in the random, unilluminating contents that were banned for the mere concept. There were books on lots of powerful magics, but most of it was dark magic and she wasn't interested in that.
So, when Rose Weasley was in the library the Sunday morning after the chaos of Halloween night and Saturday's publication of the scandal, it was for normal schoolwork. She'd gotten up at the crack of dawn to revise the essay she had been dragged away from on Halloween night. To sneak into Ravenclaw Tower in Roxanne's place.
She tapped her quill on the parchment for a few moments, her memories distracting her focus. A copy of the Scandals article lay by her work, and Zoey's smiling face kept waving at her before getting 'chased' by Orion. The image had seemed like such concrete evidence when she'd first seen it move, but after hearing Lily and Hugo's complaints she had to admit it more… innocent than she'd originally allowed herself to see. Rose wondered how the others felt now that the deed was done and they'd successfully revealed the illicit relationship.
Nonetheless, she tucked her copy of the article into one of her books so it would stop distracting her.
At the time it had seemed like it really wasn't so bad to give the picture to Creevy for publication. It had been a relief to be done with the night and just go to bed, to forget the stress of it. She'd escaped that patrol, they finally had proof of the transfer and the Assistant being up to something, and Rose remembered how she'd wanted nothing more than to bury her head in a pillow and fall asleep. Halloween hadn't been easy for her.
When Rose had entered the Ravenclaw Girls Dormitories she had experienced a moment of panic; all the bronze-rimmed four poster beds were in the same long hallway- around the edge of the tower- and unlike Gryffindor tower, they weren't grouped together. It had left her with a panic on how to know whose bed was whose, because Rose definitely didn't want to snoop around more than she had to.
After walking down the beds a few times she had eliminated all the beds with photos on the nightstands, as those all featured a different Ravenclaw than the one she was targeting. Thinking about it for a few moments, Rose had gone into the clothes drawers until she found one filled with Zoey's signature blue-and-black striped stockings. She'd done it- she'd identified where she needed to investigate. The success was short lived as she realized she'd just killed the perfect excuse to tell James' she couldn't find anything. Rose had been pushed into trying, so that didn't mean she had to try hard.
There Rose stood, literally inside one of the most private places in anyone's life, and realized she was about to rummage about like a common thief.
She sat back on Zoey's bed and grasped her shaking hands, weighing her options. It wasn't like she was worried about getting caught- the bed space wasn't immaculate but it wasn't messy either. The place was indicative of a person who misplaced things.
On one hand, Rose had her personal morals and this was seriously pushing the envelope. On the other hand, she yearned to know more about the transfer. Though James hadn't seen Kingsley's name on the Marauder's Map ever again they both knew it had been there, and Uncle Harry had told them to never doubt it.
Was Zoey some sort of Ministry agent? She didn't believe Christine Creevy's wild theories, but still… with such little information anything could be construed. Frustrated, Rose had dropped her head into the pillow with a groan, an habit often done in her own dorm room.
"Ow," She said in surprise and put her hand to her smarting forehead, lifting the pillow to see what was under it. Just the bed, but… the pillowcase was oddly heavy. Reaching her hand inside she grasped a leather bound book.
What was this doing in a pillowcase? Intrigued, Rose undid the bindings and found it filled with what looked like another language. On closer inspection, though, the script looked vexingly similar to her classwork in Ancient Runes. Close enough to make the connection but varied enough that she couldn't read at a glance.
Her guilt forgotten she had flipped through the pages, finding that random sections would have a word or two she could understand. Her mind raced- she could translate this! Given enough time, of course.
It must be one of the handwritten accounts from the Ravenclaw's private library, Rose had decided. How intriguing... Lysander was always talking about how the smartest people of his house would make reports of their various experiments and the best would be left for future students to explore. And how some would leave puzzles and challenges, so this was likely a combination of both.
Zoey shouldn't even have something like this, Rose had thought with frustration, because if the transfer had time for rune reading and puzzles then she wasn't devoting enough to her main studies.
The book flipped a chunk forward to where a picture had been wedged between the pages. Surprised, Rose grabbed it and looked at it with a frown. It was of Assistant Orion, much younger, standing in front of a castle with something blurry at his back.
She didn't recognize the castle from her studies. It didn't look very functional- far too many skinny towers and a huge drawbridge entrance but no moat to speak of. Scanning the open book Rose found the name 'Disney' spelled out a few times, but it meant nothing to her. Looking back at the picture again, she guessed that the shape was a person, but at the time she couldn't make out the blur for the life of her either.
Why would Zoey use a picture of the Assistant from such a long time ago as a bookmark? The only reason she could think of, besides the standing theory that Zoey and Orion were- her nose had crinkled- illicitly entangled, was some sort of blackmail. After a moment of unease, Rose had decided to take it to Creevy. If she could enchant it into moving, they would find out more about the mysterious Assistant. It could be the proof to show how their relationship really stood. And if Orion was being blackmailed, surely he would want someone on the outside to help.
Bringing the book with her hadn't even been in question. It was a challenge after all, and when else would she have the opportunity to read a book from Ravenclaw's private library? She just wanted a chance to study the strange Runes. Besides, it wasn't like she would show a schoolbook to James; he wouldn't be interested in the slightest.
She had left Ravenclaw dormitories with a feeling of accomplishment.
Now she was just guilty. While the photo had turned out being exactly what they'd been looking for, she had honestly forgotten the existence of the leather book for a while. After rediscovering it and translating the first few pages Rose had been horrified to read not any kind of case study report but instead a private journal. The first entry was logged years ago. She didn't know why it felt so out-of-character for Zoey Malam to keep a diary, but the evidence was right in front of her.
While immensely relieved that she hadn't told anyone else about it, Rose had become worried about what to do with it. It wasn't like she could just waltz back into the Ravenclaw Dorms and put it back where she found it. Burning or destroying it would be the easiest way to hide her criminal action, but… she didn't think she could stomach that guilt. It was bad enough that she'd accidentally stolen something so private, her conscience couldn't take destroying it too. She just wanted a way to give it back without Zoey ever knowing it'd been missing.
At least now she knew why Zoey didn't pester her for help in Ancient Runes on top of all her other classes. She'd been surprised when Albus mentioned the transfer was in that elective course, but it made sense now. Zoey already knew the Runic Alphabet, or at least something very similar. She must have learned from her magical mother…
"...ooose? Rosie? Are you awake?" Waving her hand in front of her cousin's face, Roxanne tried to hold in her snickers.
Blinking out of her thoughts Rose blushed as she realized Rox had been talking at her for a while. "Sorry, what?"
"I was asking for advice on my DA essay," Rox shook her head, visibly bemused as she sat at the study table. "This is a first, though."
"What is?"
"Me the one working on my classwork, and you the one staring off into a daydream. I should mark my calendar."
Rose rolled her eyes and looked back down at her essay, but found that her focus fell to Roxanne's table instead. There another copy of Scandals was laying next to the ink bottle, the young Zoey was giggling innocently as she tried to hold on to Orion's spinning. Catching her breath she kissed him lightly on the cheek, then cried silently as she was dropped below the frame.
It was done, Rose reminded herself as she tore her gaze away. Over with. Mission accomplished. Finito. There was no use worrying about it anymore- Rox certainly wasn't.
"Knut for your thoughts?"
Rose blinked again as she was brought back to reality for the second time, and then sighed. It seemed her mind just would not allow her rest until she got through this. "What do you think of it?"
"Not her best work," Roxanne admitted as she followed Rose's vague gesture to the article, "But even Creevy has her off days I suppose."
"No, I mean- it's just-" what was bothering her about it? "I- what now? I mean all the students know now, but why didn't James take it to a professor yet?"
"He's not going to."
"What?" Rose's mouth dropped open. "But- but wasn't that the entire point of it all? To tell someone that can do something about it?"
"Um, Rosie, this was doing something about it. Everyone will know soon enough. We just cut out a step that would slow us down." She tapped her nail on the article itself. "Or at least, that's what James would say. Or maybe that we shouldn't let anyone else do what we can. James says that a lot too."
The saying was vaguely similar to 'want it done right, do it yourself', but somehow Rose felt like the difference was important. She put that away for later. "Why were you so ready to help? Did you see the transfer do something suspicious?" Her tone turned curious.
"Nope. But you and James did. That's all I needed; it's not like you two would lie to us."
Rose raised an eyebrow. "I once told you that Grandma Molly's cookies would turn your hair green so I could have them all to myself." She wasn't embarrassed. She'd been five at the time, and it hadn't worked; Rox had been disappointed her hair didn't change colors.
"All right, all right-" She laughed. "-You wouldn't lie to me about anything important. It's part of being family, right?"
She nodded mutely. Finding out Rox had such unwavering faith in her made Rose nervous, like she'd been handed an award she hadn't even competed for.
"What about you? What did you want to find out about the transfer?"
"Well there was the Map thing, but it was more… just… she just doesn't make any sense," Rose admitted, her frustration spilling out. "I mean, first her hair. Why the blazes does she make it so many colors? What's wrong with a normal blond, or brown? Some days I would kill for a normal brown."
"Hey-" Roxanne almost protested, then looked at her own red curls with a frown. "Okay, I get the point."
Emboldened by her agreement, Rose went on "And I mean, transferring in the first place? Why wasn't she here with the rest of us- I mean, with her lack of magic it almost seems like she was denied schooling then wormed her way into Hogwarts with help from the Ministry."
As always her mouth had moved ahead of her mind, but this time Rose knew she'd voiced a sound theory. Roxanne's eyes had widened and she nodded slowly, "That could be…"
"Not to mention- a Ravenclaw? Seriously? How does a transfer student who can't even pass her own classes get into that house? I mean, the Sorting Hat didn't even consider me for Ravenclaw, and you know how smart I am." It wasn't fair.
"Fred would say you're stereotyping."
"And I would say stereotypes are born from statistics." Raising her nose a touch at the playful teasing, Rose felt pleased with her rebuttal. That is, until she caught sight of a beady-eyed murtlap that was sitting atop books forgotten on neighboring study table. Orion's familiar.
Seeing her cousin's face pale alarmingly, Rox followed her gaze and froze in a moment of fear as well. "How long has it been there?" she asked as they watched it watch them.
Rose just shook her head as Rasputin's quills rize in sharp spikes. The way the thing's eyes were glowing a soft green was not encouraging either. A cold chill went down Rose's back and she wondered if this feeling of impending doom was what her mother went through in her days evading Death Eaters. "It knows…"
Rox's eyes snapped to her cousin's. "No it doesn't."
"But why else would it be here? Eavesdropping on us?"
"It's a RAT, Rose. It's too stupid to know a word we're saying."
Rasputin growled at the insult, a soft sound that echoed in the quiet corner of the library. Then it jumped the gap between tables, landing squarely on the Scandals article by Roxanne's schoolwork.
Rose whimpered quietly despite herself as it started shredding the paper.
"Look, don't panic, okay? Just- be cool. We'll just take our stuff, and finish our homework in the Commons. Perfectly natural." Rox was used to the post-prank jitters that Rose was melting under. She wasn't, however, used to the spiked rat-thing that Orion had as a familiar. The thing always creeped her out even when it wasn't using her papers to sharpen its half-inch claws.
Both girls hurriedly gathered their things and started walking out of the library as it started shredding the article. After turning a few corners and hearing a soft scrabble of claws, they nervously looked around to see Rasputin easily keeping up with them, leaping atop the bookshelves and obstacles without looking away from the two Gryffindors below him.
They turned left. The murtlap followed. The girls looked at each other nervously.
He jumped to the left bookshelf, they turned right… Rasputin was behind them again just a few minutes later.
"It's following us…"
"I can see that," Roxanne muttered, biting her thumbnail. Rose's paranoia was starting to get to her; what if Orion was having his familiar following them? What should they do, what should they-
Rose let out a 'umph' as she turned the corner and bumped into somebody walking the other way, dropping her books and essays. "What was that for?" she groused nervously as she knelt and started separating her stuff from his.
"It was hardly intentional," the Ravenclaw boy responded as he bent down to grab his books, A History of Wandlore and Methodology and Theories of Wandless Magics. Rose frowned at the contradicting titles.
He picked up her Scandals article that had been tucked in her copy of Hogwarts, a History, and Rose reached to grab it from him. In a deceptively casual movement he pulled it just out of her reach, his eyes fixed on the picture. Zoey was laughing in it again. His gaze darkened even as they glittered green as he looked up and met her gaze. "Where's Lysander?"
The two girls glanced at each other, surprised by the question. "Why would you ask us that?" Roxanne countered.
"You were with him Halloween night." He said calmly, like he was talking about flowers. Even with the layer of calm there was an intensity about him that set the girls on edge. Like a snake sunning in the grass, not threatening but certainly still dangerous.
Rose felt her heart leap to her throat; it was him. The Ravenclaw that had been in the tower Halloween night and answered the riddle password, the 'blink' guy. Rasputin behind her, this guy ahead of her- it was official, Rose realized, she was doomed. "I- er-"
"Of course she wasn't," Roxanne said smoothly, picking up some of the papers herself. "Why would you think that?"
His gaze flicked to her briefly before locking on to Rose, the action almost dismissive. "You, a Gryffindor, were in Ravenclaw Tower two nights ago. To get something for… 'Christine'. I didn't realize Prefects were allowed to grant students access to the Common Rooms of other Houses. What was so urgent that required you to be there for her, but so unimportant that she wouldn't retrieve it herself?"
Roxanne started at that- Rose should have been under the Invisibility Cloak, how had she been seen? That was the entire point of borrowing it from Albus in the first place. She looked at her cousin inadvertently, and groaned internally as Rose blushed the famous Weasley crimson.
Startled by their combined looks of accusation, Rose panicked. "Nothing! Nothing, honest. It was something stupid that couldn't wait, so we had to go right then and it was just, um- a- her diary!" Rose winced at her big mouth, knowing why that answer had popped out but hating how close to the truth it was. Why couldn't she be better at lying? She had no choice but to go with it now though. She took a breath to calm herself and try sounding more believable. "Creevy needed me to grab her diary. Dunno why, I didn't ask. Those things are private."
Rose felt like the smile she gave him would break her face.
Decent job, Roxanne thought. Rose was getting almost passable at lying. If only her face hadn't turned as red as her hair; at least the girl had tilted her face so her bright hair covered the worst of it.
"A diary?" He repeated, his voice still tight. "You still shouldn't have been there. Unsupervised. You could have been up to anything."
He knew, he knew, oh Merlin he knew- Rose was doomed. Completely. But she tried to salvage the situation. "No, no that- it's- noneofyourbusiness."
"You do not mess with a girl and her privacy," Rox intervened, deciding that it was about time to save her fumbling cousin. "And while you're at it, don't bother Lysander about it- he's a busy man."
Tilting his head at Roxanne in a way that reminded her of a hawk, the boy narrowed green eyes and then smiled. The expression didn't match his face. "Oh I won't. Now if you excuse me, I have protection spells to cast. I don't want my stuff pilfered through on-" he paused, before finishing the sentence with sarcasm. "-'accident'."
"But I would never-" Rose protested at the implied accusation, but it died on her lips at the piercing look he gave her, his acid gaze practically daring her to finish that lie. Because after all, she realized as she watched him go, she already had.
"Weird dude..." Roxanne mumbled as the boy turned the corner, looking up at the bookshelves with relief "At least the rat is following him now. What was his name again?"
Nott led Scorpius and Priscilla outside to the brisk fall day, a light layer of snow crunching underfoot as they made their way to the dueling arena. As they walked, Nott dismissed his earlier concerns about his friend's destructive potential. Powerful as they each were, there was reason for most club activities taking place outdoors toward the end of the grounds. Their target range was against one of spell-absorbing barriers of the school and the targets themselves, of course, were supposed to be damaged on impact. The practice dueling pits were lowered twelve feet below the rest of the grounds and the main one, well, that one was different practically every day. Curtesy of their very own Professor Longbottom. Finally, he had faith in the club's supervision abilities to keep things under control.
Nott stopped them in front of a floating blackboard, tapping his wand on it with a trace of impatience. Chalk words started writing themselves in a hasty script that Scorpius recognized from his herbology classes as Professor Longbottom's, reading:
DUMBLEDORE'S DUELING CLUB
Target field Agenda:
Reducto
Stupefy
Petrificus Totalus
Obstacle Course: OPEN
Dueling Pits: CLOSED
Advanced Arena: RESERVED for Club Council
There will be no wand waving, or silly incantations in this Club
The piece of chalk hesitated, then underlined the last words a second time before setting itself back down. Nott looked over the list, then realized he should probably explain "We don't do everything every day. And we don't use equipment without supervision, unless you're on the club council."
"This club has a council?" Priscilla asked in mild disbelief, wondering how a book-bound group of people would fit in with a bunch of spellslingers like Nott.
"Of course," Nott said with a secretive grin, "Longbottom actually leaves a lot of the coaching to the council reps- says it's more in keeping with the foundation of the club to have students teaching eachother. Not to mention he and Sybble can't coach all of us all the time." He turned and started walking away.
"Professor Sybble." Scorpius repeated the name of their Head of House without infliction, but Nott knew he'd been surprised.
"She is the Dark Arts Professor." Priscilla pointed out as they followed him. "Stands to reason she'd consult for a club like this."
"Yes, well- like I said, she's not here all the time. I think we'll have to check you in with Sarge for now." Nott predicted their confusion over the title "We didn't want to call our council leader 'Captain' cuz that's what the Quidditch players get, so we call him the Sergeant."
"Let me guess-" Scorpius asked as they approached the advanced arena, imagining the kind of person who would enjoy such a militaristic title. "He's a Gryffindor."
"Nope." Nott grinned again. "Hufflepuff."
"Hufflepuff?" Scorpius and Priscilla said in a unified surprise. Everyone knew that the dueling club was inter-House, but to be headed by a Hufflepuff…? Priscilla wondered if Nott's description of the club was inflated. Their remark went unaddressed.
"Those're the targets," Nott pointed to the sight where twenty or so students were practicing the spells from listed on the chalkboard at circles that floated and moved. "Some of the stunners can only be done with supervision, though. Pits are closed today but they're over there-" he waved in the direction of the dueling pits even though the trenches in the ground couldn't be seen from this angle "-And here is the Advanced Arena."
His tone changed to one of pride as they approached the last area, where almost a dozen people were gathered around to watch. While the dueling pits were traditional long arenas to compare skills against a single opponent, the advanced arena was combined with the features of the club obstacle course to provide a more stimulating challenge. It was a tower of living vines that moved and grew even as the combatants dueled inside, gaining and losing the high ground as stairs and platforms and walls erupted and receded into the environment without warning.
Two people contested inside the living arena, their wands out and sending spell after spell. Sections of the walls would crumble from the missed shots and then regrow with alarming speed, the vines writhing and moving more like a collection of snakes than plants.
One of the duelists, a slight freckle-faced girl with her hair in a high braid, was sending a flurry of ice spells at her opponent. Her accuracy wasn't the best but it was clear to see that she could maintain her assault relentlessly, her only breaks occurring when she had to find more stable footing.
Her opponent was a tall lad who was moving with surprising speed for his large frame, dodging between pillars and walls without warning. His robe was scorched in quite a few places and he was looking far more fatigued, his bangs clinging to his face with sweat despite the chill of the air. Still, the shots he fired were done with pinpoint accuracy, hitting the platform the girl stood on to disrupt the plants and force her to either move or shield her footing.
The trio of Slytherins slowed to watch. The crowd of assorted House kids were whispering and placing bets on the match between the councilmembers, all standing behind a ring of bright red toadstools on the ground that was obviously there to mark the end of the safe area. Nott motioned for Scorpius and Priscilla to stay there and walked over the respected line as though it wasn't there at all. He pulled out his wand as he navigated through a gap in the vine walls, calling when he was clear "REF ON FIELD!" Scorpius started a bit when the small crowd cheered in response.
"Finally!" The girl cried back, recognizing Thomas Nott by his voice alone. "What took you so long?"
"Focus Isabelle!" The boy cried even as he gave Nott a cursory nod, then stepped aside and shot a combination of spells up at her.
The four spells were the same type but, Scorpius was shocked to see, they traveled toward their targets with a small variation of speed and each with greater power than before. The first shot had obviously been aimed at the platform again, the second over her head, and the last two for the girl herself- but as they flew through the air the last shots overtook the first and 'Isabelle', who had already created a shield, didn't have time to change it into another position.
She only avoided the hits by jumping off the platform completely, dropping out of sight.
"Clear!" Nott called, just before she pulled her shoulders over a low wall and started shooting her ice spells again. Now her every shot was on target and meant to either hit her opponent or 'destroy' his cover.
The change in their skill made it apparent to Priscilla and Scorpius that the two had only been warming up until this point, and apparently everyone had been waiting for Nott to arrive if the amped energy of the spectators was anything to go by. They pair now faced each other with a seriousness that had been lacking in their previous exchanges, with a determination to succeed that Scorpius had often seen on the Quidditch Pitch.
This had gone from a competitive pastime to honestly fighting in a way that charged the air. His eyes widened as he saw one of Isabelle's ice spells trail and curve in an unexpected way, about to hit the boy on the left side only to be blocked at the last moment by a shield spell from off the field.
Nott lowered his wand and canceled the protection spell he'd cast, calling "Point, off hand!" before casting a petrifying spell on the limb in question.
"Dammit Rupert," Isabelle complained even as the boy dutifully played the part of 'injured'. "Why can't you be left handed?"
Rupert tested the mobility of the shoulder connected to his immobilized limb, then resumed their fight without responding.
Priscilla's eyebrows rose at the name, and her eyes narrowed with rekindled interest "Rupert?"
"Know him?" Scorpius asked, feeling like the name was familiar to him as well.
"Rupert was the Prefect that represented Hufflepuff at the Start-of-Term Feast," she answered in a murmur, her eyes still trailing him. There was marked difference between Rupert's countenance now and any other time she'd seen him. He moved about the field with a confidence and presence that was distinctly lacking in the hallways of Hogwarts. Even with the numbed arm, Rupert's superior skill started to show as he sent an astonishing variety of spells at his opponent. Hexes and jinxes kept Isabelle low behind cover, while charms and reducto spells began rendering her potential avenues for escape and cover useless. His spells continued to press Isabelle to jump to higher and higher platforms, his plan becoming apparent as he started using his spells to isolate her platform from all the others.
"Oh bloody h-" she swore just before he destroyed her footing for the last time and sent her into a thirty-foot freefall. Disoriented as she tumbled, Isabelle was unable to defend herself from the flurry of spells Rupert fired, all perfectly timed to hit the moving target.
Nott again blocked all of the spells with shields, calling "Dead points" as Isabelle quickly cast Arresto Momentum to slow her own fall. Half the crowd cheered while the rest groaned and handed over their lost wagers, chocolate frog cards exchanging hands before most of them dispersed from the spectacle.
The three combatants gathered and talked as they made their way out of the arena, their conversation carrying easily through crisp air. Rupert grinned and patted Nott on the back "Nice work on the shields. You've really improved."
To his friends' shock he smiled at the compliment. "I've been practicing. Good footwork."
"Thanks. I did work up a sweat, didn't I?" His brown hair was damp enough to look black, and the sweat was making the stubble of his half-grown goatee a bit itchy.
"I could smell the testosterone from here," Isabelle teased as she cleared the tunnel into the advanced arena, blowing snowflakes off herself with a simple spell and then reaching up to retighten her braid.
"Hah." Rupert snorted, about to say something more when his eyes landed on Priscilla and Scorpius after he too made it out of the arena- the vine passage was narrow and a lot harder to get through than Nott had made it look, especially for someone of his larger frame. Standing in the direct sunlight it was now possible to see the faded yellow lining on his and Isabelle's Hufflepuff dueling robes. "Back to work, you lot! You're wastin sunlight!"
At his bark of command the remaining spectators jumped to attention and rushed off. Scorpius and Priscilla glanced at each other briefly and stayed where they were.
The Hufflepuff just looked at the two new Slytherins for a few more moments, then said "Friends of yours?"
"Yup." Nott agreed, popping the 'p'.
"And they're here to…?"
"Duel."
Isabelle snorted at his cryptic responses. "But of course. Do they know they have to pass the course first?"
"I was going to allow our Sergeant the honor of explaining that one."
"And I," Rupert sighed, running a hand down the side of his face. The action smeared the dirt on his hand into the sweat on his cheek. "Have told you a million times to stop calling me that."
"I know."
Scorpius looked at Nott in surprise. It was, quite frankly, strange to see him this relaxed around anyone, let alone someone outside of Slytherin.
"Good to see you here." Rupert's greeting startled Scorpius with its existence, confidence, and sincerity, as he had turned from his conversation with his friends to the newcomers without preamble. "I'm Rupert, DDC council president. This is Isabelle, our vice, and of course you know Nott, our junior council member."
"You're on the council?" Priscilla asked in surprise, looking at her younger friend.
"Earned it just a few weeks ago." Nott said with obvious pride and satisfaction at having impressed her.
"He may be a fourth year, but his petrifying spells are top quality. Um, speaking of…?" Rupert bounced his left shoulder a few times.
"Oh right- sorry." he quickly mumbled the countercurse to unlock the limb he'd immobilized for half of the duel. As soon as that was done the councilmembers walked as a group toward the target field.
After a moment the two Slytherins followed.
Scorpius looked between them and asked "Aren't you going to ask for our names?"
"Don't need to." Rupert stretched his arm as they walked to get the blood flowing again. "Nott talks about you all the time- you're Scorpius, yeah? Malfoy? I'd shake hands, but-"
Malfoy tensed for an insult.
"-I don't want to get you dirty, mate." He said with a self deprecating smile as he held up the sweaty and dirty palm in question. There was too much sincerity and honest amusement in the words to suspect another motive.
Just in case though… "I don't mind." Scorpius assured and held out his hand, a challenge against any prejudice held toward his Pureblood name.
Rupert just nodded lightly and took it without hesitation, his grip firm and calloused as he shook the Slytherin's hand. "Good to meet'cha."
"...Likewise," Scorpius muttered, waiting for his attention to shift to Priscilla before wiping the sweaty dirt from his hand. Isabelle made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a giggle.
Rupert seemed to have missed Scorpius's reaction as he gave Priscilla a bow that might have been mocking if his entire demeanor weren't so very serious throughout this exchange. "And you're Priscilla Parkinson. You Represented your entire House earlier this year like I did, yeah?"
"That's correct."
"Can't say I was surprised to see you take the stage," he smiled, like the experience had connected them in some way. "Last time I saw you step up was during your, ah shall we say, prideful declaration in your first year?"
Priscilla froze for a moment, then realized that as a Sixth Year student there was a good chance that he'd been there during her defining moment when she'd challenged anyone opposed to her Slytherin heritage to stand before her. And subsequently persecuted all who had. The Fifth Year may have widened the rift between Slytherin and the other Houses when she retaliated, but she was definitely provoked and not the least bit remorseful. Rupert would have been a Second Year at the time, but for the life of her she couldn't remember him specifically among the many eyes that had watched her. "I don't particularly care what you call it." She looked at the hand and frowned. "And I decline your offer for contact."
Isabelle frowned at the tone and took half a step forward to protest at her defensive barb, but Rupert- without having to glance her way- waved her down and smiled. "It was just an offer. So," he gestured for them to follow him as he walked on, "You two are interested in DDC?"
"That's the second time you've said that," Priscilla mumbled as she walked between Rupert and Nott. "I understand 'Dumbledore's Dueling Club' is a mouth full, but I was under the impression you were called 'dueling club'."
"Only people outside DDC call us 'dueling club'," Isabelle grinned, using finger quotes. "Sorta like how Sergeant Rupert is the only one who calls himself 'the president' and us his 'vice presidents'."
"To everyone else, we're Lieu-tenants." Nott finished, then waited for Isabelle to join in before saying in obviously practiced unison "And he's our Sergeant."
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are, Sarge." Isabelle grinned, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Especially with your new cut."
While Rupert's hairstyle wasn't quite a buzz cut, it was considerably shorter than fashion dictated. It looked good on him though and made his half-grown stubble look less out of place. He still ran a hand through it self consciously as he protested with more force. "No, I'm not."
"Actually that's me." Thomas Nott smiled as he used the play on his name, a joke that he would punch anyone else out for teasing. "Lieutenant Nott reporting for duty, Sergeant!"
"Lieutenant Izzy present as well, Sarge!" The two saluted him in an exaggerated and jokingly serious manner.
Rupert glared at them both, glanced at Priscilla and Scorpius with a slightly hopeless expression, then grumbled "Drop and give me forty."
Without missing a beat both Lieutenants stopped dead and fell forward straight into pushups, calling in unison "One! Two! Three! Four!…"
Priscilla's jaw dropped at the sight, but nobody saw it as Scorpius was too busy trying to smother his own amused reaction and Rupert was panicking "What- no! No that wasn't actually- get up you morons!"
"Is that an order, Sarge?" Isabelle asked as Nott counted in a more subdued voice "...seven, eight, nine…"
"Yes, it is." Rupert sighed with a note of defeat. "Just get up."
"Thank you Sarge." She said and got up. Nott however kept going for a few more seconds, still counting aloud to a pace that showed how easy forty pushups would be for him. He had worked hard on his physique. It took a not-too-light kick on his side from Isabelle to get him up, accusing "Show off."
"Anyways…" The 'Sergeant' said and ran a hand down his face again as Nott got to his feet, the action smearing dirt onto the other cheek this time. "If you're interested in joining DDC activities from time to time, we need to judge you on the targets and obstacle course before we let you practice duel."
"Why?" Priscilla asked in obvious disapproval of the idea. She didn't like revealing her skills to a bunch of spectators before she fought them, and now that she was closer to the obstacle course she was far less impressed by it. It looked far too physically demanding for a magic dueling club. "I see no necessity in- that."
She was ignored as the three councilmembers refocused on each other again. Rupert glanced at his Lieutenants. "I'll vet their spells; you two don't have to stay for that. I have a feeling it'll take a while."
"Check Priscilla's spells first," Nott volunteered, a gleam in his eye. "She'll take a while, so I'll let Scorpius practice the time trial. "
Isabelle raised a hand. "I'll supervise the targets, then. That good?"
The three spoke with barely a second pause between, nodded once, then turned to do the agreed actions. Isabelle left, Rupert motioned Priscilla to the targets with a sweep of his hand, and Nott threw his arm around Scorpius and lead him off as well.
Priscilla raised a thin eyebrow at the unexpected gentleman action, but walked toward the range. She supposed this 'sergeant' had his reasons.
A bit put off by the sudden and swift dispersal of tasks without his input, Scorpius looked at Nott from the corner of his eye as he was frog-marched to the obstacle course. "And what are we going to be doing exactly?"
"Oh," His grin widened to almost sadistic, and Scorpius got an inkling that his friend was thinking back to the many laughing comments he'd given about dueling club. "Just having some fun."
As Zoethia Malam walked through Hogwarts, she held her head high. She kept a firm grip on her bag, her gaze straight even as a strand of onyx black hair fell in her eyes- and she didn't flinch when an eraser hit her. Or a gobstone. She winced at the quill, but only because of the point.
She hadn't run into many people so far, but it seemed her assailants were mostly girls; tall girls, short short, pretty girls… um… not-so-pretty girls too. Anyone who was against the idea of Jonovan Orion being in a relationship, anyone who thought the age gap was inappropriate, and anyone who was still after her about that squid thing from earlier.
All in all, Zoey thought as she put that strand of hair back behind her ear, throwing random projectiles was a rather juvenile response. And she had a personal point of reference.
She'd suffered the exact same assaults in primary school, after all. Just growing up an orphan was enough ammunition for other kids to tease her with. As a witch with only moderate control, her bursts of magic had pegged her as a weirdo. But her mom had drilled into Zoey to never, ever use magic before she was taught, so she couldn't do anything but learn that any kind of retaliation just fueled the proverbial fire of their assaults. Combined, those things had given bullies a scapegoat to make themselves look tough.
Unsurprisingly, Zoey hadn't liked her classmates. There was a reason that she and Jon were so close; not only was he practically her brother, he'd been practically her only friend. She spent more time at home than anywhere else, any thirst for adventure sated with book after book on fantasy that was quietly read in the corner, dreaming of the day that the magical school her mom had told her about would send its letter. That day would have the double relief of a new school, and the long-awaited reveal to her family about what she was.
Not that she didn't enjoy her old life. The day at home had been a relief, a splash of sanity after the craziness that had happened at St. Mungo's. Jon couldn't have given her a better present than a handcooked meal, a night spent half on their couch and half in her own bed, to wake slowly and cook Aunt Mary's home recipe for pancakes.
...even if he'd been strangely missing. She wasn't worried; she knew he'd come pick her up. Nonetheless, Zoey had firmly exploited the day of returned technology, watching a marathon of her favorite shows and enjoying 'muggle' foods, like good old fashioned pizza. Mmm. And soda. MMMMM. Pumpkin juice couldn't even compete.
It was almost noon when Jon made it back, giving her an almost-heart attack as she worried it was her Aunt and Uncle. After ringing the doorbell without answer he had been forced to get the key from the bushes and open the door, walking inside to a seemingly empty house. Glancing around, Jon immediately went to the closet in the office and moved aside their old school project posters.
Zoey was curled in a small corner, holding her mom's wand and muttering like she was trying to hypnotize herself. "I'm not here- I am air, aaair…" There was a plate of pancakes in her lap.
"You're very obviously here."
She started in surprise and knocked her skull on the shelf above her. "Ow- Jon? Why didn't you tell me it was you?" Zoey complained as she rubbed her head and slid out of her old hide-and-seek spot, careful to keep the plate from tipping.
"And miss your attempt at invisibility?" he teased even as he gave her a hand up, claiming the pancakes she'd promised and saved as his reward for the previous night.
"Like this is so impressive," she said and looked down at herself. She was only mildly transparent, like she'd been covered in a thin layer of clear plastic. Even as she watched though it thinned until nonexistence and she sighed as she put the wand back in it's case. She went into the pantry and got Jon the jam and honey for his belated breakfast, which he ate off the kitchen island.
He'd been bothered by something even as he asked about her day and if she'd enjoyed herself, even as he inhaled the food with the fervor of a starving man. Then he'd grilled her on how Hogwarts was, if she enjoyed her classes and how many friends she had and generally acted like the overprotective, paranoid guardian she knew and loved.
Zoey told him how she liked Ravenclaw; her Housemates were nerdy and smart, overcompetitive about grades in her opinion but kind and far more dynamic than the rest of the school. She liked that they had adopted her socks only rule; one of them had even researched and grown the 'best-smelling flower with odor eliminating properties' to put by the shoe pile. The Eagle Knocker had become quite friendly after she'd shared the book of Sphinx puzzles. She suspected it gave her simpler riddles when it could tell she was in a rush to get through his door.
Hogwarts, as a place, was amazing. As annoying as it was to get unerringly lost in it its halls it was equally exhilarating for her to find old places. She loved exploring them thoroughly and, as a thank you to whatever twist of the school lead her there, always cleaned the place up a little bit.
She reasoned that if a stick could be semi-sentient, why on earth couldn't a century old building soaked in all kinds of magic feel gratitude? And at worst, she was clearing out the dustbunnies. That couldn't hurt.
Hogwarts, as a student body, was full of teenagers. Of course there were people she liked and got along with more than others, but it was hard to get close to them when her last four years of her life were a taboo subject. Really, Zoey reminded him, knowing that one revealing word could mean Ministry intervention, that it would put Rex in a bad position and him under undue stress was far from ideal for forming deep friendships. But she was doing good; she had Lysander, Scorpius, Rose, Albus, Lily, Hugo… she was doing good, all things considered.
Of course there were also people in Hogwarts she wasn't keen on getting along with. An image of Leena's face had flashed through her mind, but she hadn't told Jon about that brief altercation.
But really, Zoey thought as she picked quill feathers out of her hair, she'd have expected so much more out of teenagers. Where was the water-over-the-doorway trick, the dirty desk, the trashed room? Mundane projectiles she could easily deal with. Unless they got bruise worthy. That would be… hard to explain. Frowning slightly as she thought about it, that was likely to happen when her assailants became brave enough to cast that leviosa spell. Or… even stronger stuff.
She should probably ask Scorpius for more focus on shield spells their next tutoring session, Zoey decided as she entered the Great Hall for dinner, and for now she'd wear the anti-jinx stuff she'd gotten from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on her Hogsmeade trip with Albus.
Her entrance into the largest room in Hogwarts was accompanied by a distinct drop in volume, which only increased as she walked the short distance to her usual spot at Ravenclaw table. While people usually had to yell to hear each other over the roar of the populated room, students were now whispering soft enough enough to resemble the persistent buzz of swarming bugs.
As Zoey sat down she couldn't make out a single word from any direction, looking around with her first trace of true worry. Whenever her gaze went somewhere people immediately silenced, but only long enough for her focus to move on. It gave her the hair-raising sensation of people always talking behind her back, and she nudged Lysander nervously. "Um, Sandy?"
"Not my name." The Ravenclaw Prefect glanced up from the book he was reading in his usual seat.
"Sandy, seriously- why's everyone staring at me? I know I'm not imagining it… Is there something stuck in my teeth, or stuck to my back?" she reached between her shoulderblades as she thought of the old joke of sticking a 'kick me' sign there with a piece of tape. She didn't feel anything, but she craned her neck over her shoulder to check just in case.
He didn't even need to look up, just flipped the page. "Zoey, people are always staring at you."
Her brow creased in confusion. Sure she got a lot more casual glances than the average person, but that was mostly because of her vibrant hair colors. And right now, it was black. Innocuous enough… right? Glancing around again, her gaze fell on the papers that had been pulled out of bags and books and were now being whispered over, the readers looking between the Scandals and its main topic.
"Did… does everyone have one?" she whispered to herself, in shock over the sheer volume of them. There were at least a dozen articles at every table.
"The Scandals? Pretty much. The author will reprint any paper for whoever wants one, no matter if it's from last week or last year." Lysander reported mildly. "It's a very popular paper."
"Is that so…" She hadn't even heard of it until today, when Jon had finally finished his random interrogation to 'warn her' and pulled a crinkled and obviously abused copy from his pocket.
Smoothing that Scandals out with limited success, Zoey had read the student published newspaper for the first time. At least until she grasped its topic. Then she froze, looked up at Jon, looked down at the paper again and said "Ew."
Jon blinked in surprise, but it seemed she wasn't finished.
"Ew. EW. No, no nonono- no, that is not-" she glanced at Jon then looked away again, the idea of being romantic with her cousin freaking her out to the point of nausea. "Nope. Gross. Never. Ever. Ew. That- gross. Ugh. You're ancient."
"Excuse you?"
"And related, and- you're Jon, and- ick. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never in a million years…"
Needless to say that the conversation had pretty much paused while she worked the 'ick' factor out of her system. Jon decided not to be insulted, as it was the appropriate response to accusations of incest. Nonetheless he had drawn her back to the topic at hand. "Zo, this is a bit worse than 'gross'. The school's going to be in an uproar, McGonagall will have a cow, and don't even get me started on Rex…"
"He'll probably blame us for his next round of hair loss again," Zoey mumbled as she opened a new can of soda, having sufficiently calmed down.
"Zoey." He looked at her in his sobering manner that was more than a bit threatening, waiting for her to give the topic her full attention. He pointed to the wrinkled picture, demanding "Don't you keep this in your journal?"
"Well, yeah. But-"
"That is not allowable," Jon growled, his eyes flashing green. "You do not mess with a girl and her privacy."
Seeing the change of his eye color and immediately recognizing it for what it was Zoey jumped to her feet, taking his hands. She kept a grip on one and put the other on her head, feeling the extra magic summoned by his emotions flow into her. It had the tang of rust to it as she absently noted the ends of her hair turn vibrant red.
Zoey took deep breaths, letting his energy calm within her before returning it to him through his hand and giving it a soft squeeze as he did.
Jon grudgingly joined in the exercise and closed his eyes, neither of them moving from their position or breaking the flow of magic.
"I lost my journal a few days ago." Zoey told him, still focusing on her breathing.
Cracking one eye into a slit he looked down at her. "So?"
"So," Zoey repeated teasingly, "it's my fault that it was lying around in the first place. You can't blame someone for picking it up."
"I most certainly can."
Unlike her, Jon was far from teasing. Biting her lip, Zoey shook her head and released his hand, feeling that his magic was stable now. It had calmed from rust to copper pretty quick, his control really was improving. "It's my fault; I shouldn't have even taken it to school when we're not supposed to let them know we're family. And- I lost it, so… doubly my bad. I'm always losing things." she fingered the charms on her silver bracelet. "You've told me that before, right?"
Jon frowned and folded his arms. He may critique from time to time, but her error didn't make the article any less invasive. He took a deep breath for a forceful statement but then paused, his fingers twitching slowly with his thoughts. "Do you want to go back to Hogwarts?"
"What?" she jerked her head back, "Of course I-"
"Do you?" He cut her off, having already known what her knee-jerk response would be. "You're taking classes below your school level, you've complained who knows how many times about your tutoring, you just admitted that you were having trouble connecting because of our circumstances, and now- this." he had waved a hand over the crumpled paper in summary.
"Yes. I do."
"Don't say that to be stubborn, I want you to be sure. Actually take a moment to think about this-"
"Jonovan," Zoey used his full name to get his attention. "I don't need to think about this. Ever since Zelina disappeared- and was hospitalized, Hogwarts has been all I dreamt about. I wanted to learn magic like her, I wanted to be in the same place she stood, I wanted to master the magic that kept showing up in my life. And I put that on hold. For four years."
For you.
The two words hovered unspoken between them, one heartbeat stretching into two. Then four. And only when Jon dropped his gaze did she finish "So yes Jon. I am sure."
The silence had stretched a bit longer, then Jon nodded. He put a hand on her head, the color changing from the angry red to a determined black. "Well then- if you're going to stay in Hogwarts I guess you'll need to learn what they're like. Face them yourself. And they need to know you too."
His declaration had ended the subject, and Zoey told him to "Wait one more second" while she finished packing. Running up to her room she paused, leaning back on her door.
Bullies. Okay, not a problem; she could deal with them. Totally. It would take an idiot or a hardcore gossip to believe something as bogus as that article, and she wouldn't want to be friends with people like that anyways.
Gathering herself, Zoey put her bag on her bed and want into her closet, pulling out her old things until she found the mickey mouse headband she'd been wearing in that photo. Fingering the round ears, she sighed and put it in the trash. She never wanted to see it again, the memory was thoroughly ruined now. Walking back to her bag she picked it up, then reached inside and pulled Seabert out.
The old toy was soft and smiling at her even as she put him back in the pile with the rest of her collection. She didn't want him ruined next.
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Zoey had looked in her mirror and chased the somber expression off her face with a smile. She could handle a few bullies.
But half the student body was in the Great Hall now, and all of them were focused on her. Talking about her. Assuming things about her. A combined army of prejudice and malicious thoughts.
Sitting there Zoey realized that all of Hogwarts could see her. And kept seeing her, unblinkingly, until it dawned her that they were waiting for her to do something. For her to show shock at the article, to laugh it off or cry or flee in embarrassment- something. Three hundred eyeballs were staring at her for the sole purpose of seeing her put on a show and guessing what it would mean.
Shouldn't they have something better to do? Zoey bit her lip and gripped the edge of her bench, wanting nothing more than to walk out of the very room she'd just entered. She'd lost her appetite.
But what would that mean to them? Would they all assume that it meant she and Jon were- ew, ick, Zoey couldn't even think it. She didn't want them to think it either, but just standing up and screaming it to everyone would hardly be helpful. They'd probably laugh at her.
She felt like a zoo animal under observation. Closing her eyes against the pressure, Zoey wished for something, anything to end the pressure of this moment.
The moment stretched on, and next thirty minutes were the longest of her life. Zoey could barely lift her gaze from her empty plate. She didn't even try to talk to Lysander or anyone else. She pulled out a study sheet and tried to work on it, but she was too tense to use her quill properly.
When Lysander finally finished his food Zoey left the Great Hall at the same time, hoping that would look normal enough to her sudden spectating critiques.
So many people, Zoey dry swallowed. She'd never faced such a widespread rumor. As soon as she got the chance she turned down an empty hallway and got herself lost in the mazing turns of Hogwarts, running until the racing of her heart was physical and not mental. Slowing down and pushing her hair out of her eyes Zoey leaned her back against a wall, realizing that this was going to be harder than she thought.
Nobody's sure of themself right now. I realized the last few chapters were getting very mopey, so I put a bit more excitement in this chapter. How do ya'll like DDC? I know I had Neville quoting Snape, but it fits; and I think he would eventually admit that if nothing else, Snape showed him how to be strict on students.
And yes, Zoey does honestly think that she lost her joural. She had no idea that Rose was in her room. Next chapter will not be fun for Zoey, so I warn you now.
as always, thanks you so much for reading and lemme know your thoughts!
E