MAGIC KINGDOM
a Disney/Hogwarts Crossover Fic
Author's Note: As far as I could find, there were no canon rules regarding the frequency of Hogsmeade visits. The only real rules I could find were about the trips being for third-years and above and requiring a permission slip. So, I decided the trips happened once a month, as it would give teachers and students alike a chance to get them out of the place for a while.
Also, as some people have noticed, the Hook character is taken more from Colin O'Donoghue's Hook from Once Upon a Time. I did this for a couple of reasons, the main one being that the OUAT Hook was so well-written and well-acted, he really eclipsed the doofus villain set up as a foil for Peter in the animated film. I also felt it provided a better starting point for a character who would grow to become a villainous pirate.
And, okay, names. I know I already said that I was filling in the blanks for those Disney characters who were never given actual last names-or even first names-in their respective films. I wanted to acknowledge, though, that I know that the Prince from Snow White was never officially called Florian, that this was a name given to him by a French Disney On Ice production. At one point, he was thought to be called Ferdinand, because of a speech given by Shirley Temple at the 1938 Oscars. She was, however, referring to the cartoon bull. Cinderella's Prince Charming was actually named 'Prince Charming,' but as an actual name, it's a bit silly. Disney France called him Henry in some of their advertising spots, and Ferdinand in literature for their parade, and the live-action film called him Kit. The Beast, from Beauty and the Beast, was only every officially referred to as 'The Beast.' The fan-accepted name, 'Adam,' actually came from a licensed trivia video game of dubious canonicity, and was never official. In fact, if you were to visit a Disney park and ask the character actors about the princes' names, you'll get answers like, "Belle just calls me the Beast," or, "He'll always be the Prince to me."
Also, if any of you are willing to take a guess at the origins of the names I assigned characters, please comment or PM me!
8. LITTLE TOWN
On the morning of the last Saturday of the month, the whole school was abuzz. Most of the school, anyway.
"Well, I think it sucks," Vanellope said.
"I'd like to go, too," said Wendy. "But, it is rather common, I'm afraid."
"Sucks," Vanellope replied.
Alice looked up from her book. "What's common?"
"In virtually any school, the older students get little privileges not afforded to the younger," Wendy answered.
"SUUUCKS," Vanellope intoned.
"It's not all bad," Jenny Foxworth said. "At least, with the older students out at Hogsmeade, it's almost like having the place to ourselves."
Vanellope put her hands to her mouth and blew a truly impressive raspberry.
"And on that note..." Wendy deadpanned. "There. How's that?"
Vanellope held up the little mirror and examined her hair. "I guess you did a good job," she said, causing Wendy to roll her eyes. Vanellope wasn't the best when it came to "girly" things like braiding her hair, and Wendy had something of a talent for it. Wendy also knew Vanellope would never let on she cared about her appearance, and that was as effusive as she would get.
"Even without the older students," Wendy said, "it isn't as if we could just go haring off, doing whatever we wanted. If one were so inclined," she added, as if such behavior was quite the furthest from her mind.
"Were you always like this?" Vanellope asked.
Wendy turned a sharp glance to her. "What do you mean?"
Vanellope made a vague gesture with her hand. "You know-a grownup."
Wendy pursed her lips, feeling her cheeks warm. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"You are very proper," Alice said.
"Buzzkill," Vanellope corrected.
Wendy's blue eyes flashed and she drew herself up. "I beg your pardon?"
Jenny scowled at Vanellope. "I think what Vanellope means," she said sternly, "is that you are practical and level-headed."
Wendy deflated a little, and began sorting out Alice's hair for braiding. "Well, I suppose it becomes habit," she said. "I've two younger brothers who are absolute hellions, and our parents' idea of childcare is a St. Bernard."
"That sounds awesome," Vanellope replied.
Wendy gave a little smile. "Until there's any sort of problem," she said. "Nana is surprisingly competent for a dog, but the lack of thumbs or vocal chords were a hindrance. Mother and Father were each so busy, I sort of...fell into the role." Jenny and Vanellope exchanged a look. There was something in Wendy's voice which made Vanellope feel a little bad for her comments. Alice seemed more interested in a caterpillar who had chosen to crawl across her book. "Still," Wendy said, putting a smile back on her face, "no business complaining. Things could always be worse."
The girls let the subject lie, and Jenny began talking about what she'd do if they were allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Wendy contributed to the conversation, but as she wove Alice's hair into a complicated braid, she thought about what Vanellope had said, and her gaze followed Peter, dashing across the school lawns, followed by his gang of first-year boys. Had she become too grown up? Her mother had said girls simply matured faster than boys, but Vanellope, Jenny and Alice had no problem allowing themselves to be silly and childish. And, over there, running about with Peter and the boys, was Aurelia Bell, who was by no means a tomboy.
Had she simply forgotten how to have fun?
0-0-0-0-0
Some of the students drew up itineraries before Hogsmeade trips. They planned out each shop or attraction they'd visit, eager to make strategic use of their monthly day of freedom. Others merely embraced the independence and followed their feet.
Belle Eglantier was squarely amongst the former. Unsurprisingly, she had planned to spend most of the day at the local book shop, with a little time for shopping for clothes and visiting Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop. She would also have to make an appearance at the Three Broomsticks, as Arista Del Mar and the Two Princes had made her promise to socialize. After pointing out that Madame Puddifoot's was very social, they, in turn, pointed out that average age of the Tea Shop's clientele was greater than that of their parents.
Summer was still clinging on by a fingernail, so Belle opted for a simple blue sundress and a white cardigan. The weather was that perfect blend of warm sun and cool breeze. Hogsmeade was quite nice for what it was. Though it was much like her own hometown, which she had longed to leave behind for new horizons, she could see the charm in a quiet village, where every day was like the one before. Wizardry aside, it was a nice little town, full of little people.
In her mind, she could superimpose her hometown over Hogsmeade. Over there would go the baker with his tray like always, with all his bread and rolls to sell. Over there, a housewife haggling over fresh eggs. The greengrocer, the cheese shop, the fish market. Belle wondered if the similarities were limited to English villages, or if small towns the world over were built along the same lines.
"Hello, Belle."
A sudden shadow fell over her, and Belle turned. Gaston loomed over her, smiling wide. A sleeveless red shirt stretched over his impressive form. "Oh, hello, Gaston."
"That's a great dress, Belle," he said.
"Oh, thank you," she said, glancing down at herself. She looked up at Gaston and searched for something to say in return. "Red suits you."
His grin widened and he gave a little shrug, being ever so humble, while also causing his torso to ripple interestingly. "Why don't I show you around town, Belle?"
Belle gave a little chuckle. "I know my way around Hogsmeade by now, Gaston," she replied.
He rolled his eyes. "You know your way to the book shop," he said, and seized her hands. "Come on, don't you want to explore, maybe see something outside a book?" Gaston gazed down at her, eyes impossibly blue.
Belle cleared her throat. Gaston may have had a point, but he also had her hands, which she didn't appreciate. "That's very sweet of you Gaston, but-"
"Gasto-on!"
Belle and Gaston both turned to the sound. Three figures approached, moving in perfect unison. Laurette, Claudette, and Paulette Bontemps sashayed towards them. All three had shiny blonde hair, flawless makeup, and figures no teenager should possess. Other than slight variations in how they wore their bangs, and the color schemes of their outfits, they were indistinguishable from each other. They even moved as if expertly choreographed.
Gaston smiled at the triplets. "Girls," he said in greeting.
"Hello, Gaston," they chorused, even giggling in unison.
"You're looking well," the red-clad Claudette said, sidling up on his left.
"It's so good to see you," Laurette said, coming up on his right, dressed in gold.
"Especially out of school robes," finished the green-clad Paulette, moving to stand in front of him.
Gaston grinned. "Likewise," he said. Belle thought this would be a good opportunity for her to leave, but before she could, Gaston placed a hand on her shoulder. She frowned at the hand, but he took no notice. "I was just about to give Belle a proper tour of the town," he said. "Show her what's worth seeing."
Six green eyes turned to Belle, and she suddenly felt like something small and furry which had blundered into a nest of vipers. "Belle has such quiet tastes," Claudette said.
"She wouldn't know what to do with herself," Laurette added.
"Not with what you'd show her," Paulette finished.
Gaston chuckled. He clearly enjoyed the triplets' attentions, but his hand never moved from Belle's shoulder. "Don't be silly," he said. "Of course she-"
"Gaston, it is so sweet of you to offer to show me around," Belle interrupted, lifting his hand away by the wrist. "But, really, I've made plans with someone." She spotted a boy from the school and hurried to his side, looping her arm through his, ignoring his bafflement. "But you know what?" she said, before Gaston could voice a protest. "I'm sure the girls would be more than happy to pal around with you. So you four go and enjoy this lovely day we're having." She started walking, towing the other boy along. "Come on, we have a lot to do."
She could hear Gaston calling after her, but kept walking at a brisk pace, her conscripted friend trying to keep up. She pulled him around the corner of a building and ducked into a side door, just to get that much further out of Gaston's line of sight. She leaned back against the door as it clicked shut, and let out a breath.
"Feel free to return my arm whenever you like," said a voice from somewhere above her.
Belle jerked and looked up. She'd forgotten all about the boy she'd dragooned into providing a getaway. She was about to apologize when things finally registered. The boy was older, at least a head taller, with wavy, strawberry-blonde hair and crystal-blue eyes, and was as coldly handsome as a classical statue. She felt herself tense up all over again as recognition clicked into place.
It was Adam DuRose.
He stared down at her, blue eyes flat and unyielding. The seventh-year Slytherin Chaser was known for being a beast on the Quidditch field, and not much better elsewhere. Belle found herself rather intimidated. When she gave no reply, he said, "With all your jibber-jabber, did you use up your daily allotment of speech?"
Belle withdrew her arm from his and glared up at him, intimidation evaporating. "I beg your pardon?"
He arched an elegant, copper-colored brow. "You grab me and drag me in here, and it's you who's offended?"
Belle pursed her lips but gave the slightest inclination of her head. "I suppose I should apologize for that," she said.
Adam gave a nod. "Yes," he said simply.
Belle narrowed her eyes. "Maybe I was better off with Gaston," she said, barely restraining a snarl.
Adam sneered. "No one is better off with Gaston."
"That's true enough," Belle said.
"Aren't you two dating?" Adam asked.
Belle managed not to shudder. "God, no," she replied.
"Not what he thinks," he said.
"Yes, well, Gaston shouldn't think without supervision," she replied. She glanced around, realizing they were in the bakery. "You're free to go whenever you like," she said.
"Oh, am I?" Adam asked. "Well, that's lovely, isn't it?"
She gave a forced little smile. "I'm sure you have lots of places to be," Belle said. "Don't let me detain you."
"As desperate as I am for your company," Adam deadpanned, "I think I will break away."
"Charmed, I'm sure," Belle deadpanned in response, then turned on her heel and strode away. As she left, she thought to herself, This is why I drink tea with old people. She couldn't have cared less about the cold blue eyes of Adam DuRose watching her leave.
0-0-0-0-0
"Do you have to?"
Anita Dearly made sure the clasp was done on her earring. "Of course I do, Roger," she said. "She's one of my oldest friends."
Roger Dearly snorted and idly tapped a few keys on the piano, checking the tuning. Many of the Hogwarts teachers had small suites at the school, while others, like the Dearlys, made their homes in the nearby Hogsmeade village. The Dearlys had a very nice little cottage near the outskirts. Their garden was small, and more unkempt than the archetypical English country garden, but in a village full of wizards, no one took any notice.
"With friends like her, who needs dysentery?" Roger grumbled.
Anita turned to look at her husband, fists on hips. "Roger, she is not that bad," she said.
"She bloody is," Roger replied. "But you Slytherin girls are simply too bloody loyal."
She leaned in, eyes narrowed. "And since when did you ever disapprove of Slytherin girls?"
His lips twitched as a smile threatened to push through his scowl. "I admit, you have your merits."
She arched an eyebrow and gave him a light shove to the head. "She's always been very good to me," Anita said. "Besides, she came all the way out here, just to visit-and you know how much she hates leaving London. Doesn't that show what a good friend she is? Honestly, you act as if she were some puppy-slaying lunatic."
Roger merely snorted and began playing a jazzy little tune on the piano. "Well, if any household pets, small children or livestock go missing," he said, over the sound of the music.
Anita rolled her eyes, gathered her purse and kissed her husband. "I'll see you later, darling," she said.
As she left the house, she could hear he husband's smooth baritone singing with the piano: "Cruella DeVil; Cruella DeVil; If she doesn't scare you, no evil thing will..."
0-0-0-0-0
"Elsa!"
Elsa Agnarsdottr sighed, and turned, just in time to almost be knocked to the ground in a combination hug and tackle. "Oof! Anna!" Elsa found herself laughing as she struggled to disentangle herself from her sister.
Anna Agnarsdotter took Elsa's gloved hands and hopped in place, red braids bouncing. "Oh, I'm so glad to finally get some time to hang out with you," she gushed. "It's like we never get a chance at school. Oh! Did you hear? I made the Hufflepuff Quidditch team!"
Elsa managed to get her hands onto her sister's shoulders, keeping her from finally lifting off. "Yes, Anna, I did hear," she said. "Congratulations."
"Thanks!" Anna replied, beaming. "I hope you'll be cheering us on. I mean, of course, I don't expect you to cheer for us when we're against Ravenclaw, you are Head Girl, after all, that would be silly. But when we're against Gryffindor or Slytherin, I hope you'll be cheering for us. I'll be cheering for Ravenclaw when you guys are against them, too, I mean, I know you're not on the team, yourself, but it does only seem right-"
"Anna?"
"Yeah?"
"Breathe."
Anna paused and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Sorry," she giggled. "I got carried away. I just feel like I don't see you anymore."
Elsa gave a little smile. "Well, we are both very busy," she said. Elsa brushed the single lock of pale hair out of Anna's face, and fought to maintain her smile. "I suppose some things are easier to forget than others."
Anna raised an eyebrow. "Okay," she said. "Well, anyway, we're here now, and we can spend the day together!"
Elsa hugged her arms to herself. "You wouldn't rather spend the day with your friends?"
Anna rolled her eyes. "You're my best friend," she said.
Elsa's found her smile reaffirming itself. "Well, then, what should we do today?"
Anna opened her mouth, then paused. She took a deep whiff of the air, and Elsa did the same. In unison, they swiveled their heads towards the bakery. "Chocolate," they intoned.
0-0-0-0-0
Anita had just sat down when there was a thunderous roar outside. Most of Madame Puddifoot's patrons turned to look at the large window, many uttering exclamations of surprise or indignation. Anita merely sighed.
Moments later, the doors to the tea shop were thrown open, revealing a slender figure, silhouetted against the light. The figure sauntered in, silently casting her gaze over the shop interior. She was dressed like a film noir femme fatale, from her wide-brimmed hat, down to her sharp-toed stiletto heels. She threw her arms wide and called out, "Anita, darling!" then strode across the room to Anita's table.
The two women exchanged air-kisses. "It's good to see you, Cruella," Anita said.
"Not so loud, dear," said the other woman, without really lowering her voice, and dropped into the chair opposite Anita's. "I'm traveling incognito."
Anita took in Cruella's outfit. "So I see," she said. "They won't hear it from me."
Cruella smiled and removed her glasses. "Thank you, darling," she said, and heaved a sigh. The waitress appeared take their orders. "Vodka martini," Cruella said, barely sparing the waitress a glance.
"Cruella, it's a tea shop," Anita said.
Cruella smirked. "A G&T, then?"
Anita ordered a pot of tea and a tray of sandwiches and cakes. Cruella took out her long, ebony cigarette holder, and was about to light what looked like a thin, black cigarillo, when the waitress cleared her throat. Cruella arched a painted brow at the woman, when Anita said, "There's no smoking here, dear."
Cruella heaved a sigh and put the offending objects away, and the waitress went to fetch their order. "Oh, darling, I despair to see you wasting away in this godforsaken wilderness. When are you coming back to London."
"No time soon," Anita said, with the patience of someone who'd had this discussion many times before. "And it isn't as if I'm in some Antarctic outpost."
"Are you sure about that, darling?" Cruella asked, removing her hat, freeing her bicolored hair. Anita always wondered about that. Even when they'd met on the train to Hogwarts, half of the hair on Cruella's head was inky black, the other snowy white. As far as Anita could tell, it grew that way naturally. "There's no Harvey Nichols," Cruella said, "no Selfridges; not even a Grace Brothers. Trees are allowed to roam about unsupervised." She shuddered. "Tell me, do they still eat raw meat out here?"
"Cruella!" Anita chided her, a smile playing at her lips. "It isn't nearly as bad as all that. You've just been in the city too long."
Cruella snorted. "Darling, you're sounding like my doctors. They're always telling me I should get fresh country air."
"They're not wrong," Anita said, and smiled at the waitress when she brought the tea, sandwiches and cakes. Anita began pouring out the tea. "And while I'm happy you're here, I'm surprised you didn't go to Hell Hall."
Cruella scoffed and withdrew a silver flask from her purse. "The family pile?" she asked, dribbling what Anita suspected was gin into her tea. "I should say not, darling. It's full of family." She shuddered and offered the flask to Anita, who politely declined. "Speaking of which, how is Roderick?"
"Roger," Anita corrected her, as if this weren't the first time. "As well you know."
"Oh, yes," Cruella said, "dear Roger. How is he?"
"Very well," Anita answered, selecting a watercress sandwich. "We're both looking forward this school year. I've got some very promising students, and Roger says the choir and orchestra both are shaping up to be among the best."
"So, you're set on this teaching thing, then?" Cruella asked.
"Cruella," Anita began.
Cruella met her friend's eyes. "Darling, those who can't, teach. And you very much can. I still have some of your designs hanging in my office, and buyers frequently asking why they can't have those designs."
"Cruella..."
"Please, dear, come and work at my design house." In a less dignified person, her tone might have been called wheedling. "With the DeVil label, your designs could be gracing every cover and catwalk on the planet."
"Cruella," Anita sighed in response, "I like teaching. I enjoy opening young minds to art. I find genuine satisfaction in my work." Anita smiled up at her old school friend. "Can you understand that?"
Cruella sat back, slightly deflated. "I theory, I suppose," she begrudgingly replied.
"It isn't that I wouldn't enjoy working with you again, or that I'm done with creating my own art," Anita continued. "But I'm happy here. I have a chance to build a life with Roger here."
Cruella raised her gloved hands in defeat. "Well, I'm not going to stand in your way. If you want to teach toddlers how to fingerpaint-"
Anita rolled her eyes. "I work with teenagers, not toddlers."
Cruella made a face. "I'm not sure if that's better or worse."
The subject dropped, the pair chatted about other things, like the latest gossip on their former classmates, or the exploits of Cruella's London peers. The little bell above the door jingled, and Anita glanced up. A man entered, purposefully striding towards their table. Cruella noticed and turned to look, herself. She looked back to Anita and gave a mischievous chuckle. "This one is mine," she said.
When the man drew near, Cruella gestured to him. "Anita, darling, I'd like you to meet William Clayton," she said. "William, this is my oldest and dearest friend, Anita Dearly."
The man took Anita's hand and bowed over it, smiling. "Charmed, Professor Dearly," he said.
"Likewise, Mr. Clayton," Anita replied, blinking. "You knew I was a teacher?"
"It was a minor logical gamble," Clayton replied. "I knew there were two instructors named Dearly at Hogwarts, and given this charming village's proximity, it seemed a safe presumption."
The man was tall, with the sort of features which would have made him a Hollywood heartthrob in the early days of cinema. Anita's extensive study in anatomy and life drawing also told her the man was impressively solid beneath his conservative tweed suit. "Well, you were right," Anita said.
"William is my valet," Cruella said, eyes sliding up and down his form. "His service is invaluable."
"Madam is too kind," Clayton replied. The twinkle in his eye was distinctly at odds with his properly starched demeanor.
Anita merely drank her tea, not commenting.
"I hope Madam will excuse the intrusion," he said, "but I wished to inquire if I should take Madam's luggage to the cottage now?"
"That would be lovely, William," Cruella said. The manservant inclined his head to the pair of them and left the tea shop, Cruella openly eyeing him as he walked away. When he was gone, Cruella gave Anita a mischievous smile and sipped her tea. "Invaluable service," she said, quirking an eyebrow.
Anita shook her head, though she found herself smiling.
0-0-0-0-0
"So, where are we off to next?"
"You're not my chauffeur," Ariel said. "We can go wherever you want."
"I know," Aladdin replied. "I just have no particular destination in mind. How about you, Miz Del Mar?"
Ariel rolled her eyes and sighed. Aladdin Ababwa had been her best friend since they started going to Hogwarts. Her sisters hadn't been too thrilled about Ariel making friends with a boy who'd lived on the streets before coming to Hogwarts-especially one who'd received his Hogwarts acceptance letter in a holding cell after being caught shoplifting-though they'd mostly warmed him. Of course, none of them dared tell their father all the details about the baby of the family's new chum. Triton Del Mar would likely turn him into actual chum.
Ariel suggested they check out Honeyduke's Sweet Shop. Aladdin agreed and angled her wheelchair towards the confectioner's. As they went, Ariel glanced up at Aladdin. Despite the August warmth, he wore a purple hoodie over his tee shirt, as well as the red beanie he wore whenever he wasn't in class. "Aren't you hot?"
"That's what they tell me," he said, and Ariel rolled her eyes. She couldn't see his face, but she could hear the grin in his voice.
"I'm just surprised you still haven't adjusted to English weather after all these years," Ariel said.
"Trust me, I wish I could," he said. "How do you feel about Hawaii? Or would you prefer we run off to Tahiti?"
"Tough call," Ariel said, joining in on the old game they'd played for years. "Tahiti isn't as touristy."
"True," Aladdin replied. "But Hawaii has the surfing."
Ariel raised a red eyebrow, though Aladdin couldn't see it. "Surfing? Really?"
"Oh yeah," Aladdin said. "When we run away from all this and settle down in our tropical getaway, I'll be the dashing surf stud, setting all the beach babes atwitter. You can watch me perform astounding feats on the waves from your vantage point on the shore, while hosts of suntanned hunks wait on you hand and foot."
Ariel giggled. "Except you can't surf."
"How do you know?" Aladdin asked. "I've never tried. I could be amazing."
Ariel's laughter sort of dwindled after a moment, causing Aladdin to frown. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but then he followed her gaze, and understood. There, walking out of Gladrag's Wizardwear, were a small group of Hogwarts students, including David Kawena, Zarina Sand, and a boy with wavy black hair, a wide smile and blue eyes.
"You could just talk to him, you know," Aladdin said.
Ariel jerked, snapped out of her reverie. She didn't turn in her chair, but Aladdin could easily imagine her cheeks turning as red as her hair. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said.
"Hm," Aladdin said. "So, you weren't gazing at Eric Somand, then?"
"Let's just go to Honeyduke's shall we?" Ariel said.
Aladdin shook his head, but complied, continuing on towards the confectioner's. Aladdin couldn't quite understand why Ariel changed so much where Eric was concerned. She was always so bright and cheerful and fearless. Why the sight of Eric Somand would turn her into this cold, voiceless fish, Aladdin couldn't figure out.
Aladdin glanced back at the group near Gladrag's, and had a brief brain-hiccup of his own. A group of girls were headed towards the shop, including Nani Pelakai, Allison Shaw-and Jasmine Namurr. He couldn't understand why Ariel couldn't speak to Eric, but Aladdin had very good reasons why he couldn't bring himself to Jasmine. Chief among those was the fact that she was the daughter of a foreign diplomat, and he was an orphaned criminal. He couldn't just-
"Aladdin, look out-"
Aladdin jerked his head around and saw he was wheeling Ariel directly towards a bystander. He turned the chair aside at the last moment, but still managed to clip the man who'd been standing with his back to them. The man stumbled and swore, and when he spun to face them, Aladdin saw that it was Gaston LeGume.
Gaston glared at them, red-faced, ready to let Aladdin have it, but then he glanced at the Bontemps triplets draped over him. His expression softened-slightly-and said, "Watch where you're going, street rat." And then the smiling, handsome mask slid back into place and he led the giggling triplets away.
Aladdin was glad Ariel couldn't see his face. "Are you okay?" he asked her.
"I'm fine," she said. "I want to know if you're okay."
Aladdin sighed and resumed pushing Ariel's chair. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"I can't believe that jerk," Ariel growled, slamming her fist down on the armrest of her chair. "Where does he get off with that? I mean, sure you did kind of run into him, but to call you-ergh. Jerk." Ariel looked over her shoulder at Aladdin, curious look on her face. "Why did you crash into him?"
Aladdin rolled a shoulder. "I guess I was just distracted," he said, while thinking, Oh, God, I hope Jasmine didn't see that!
Ariel narrowed her eyes. "Hmm." She returned her attention to the front.
"Anyway, pick out whatever you want at Honeyduke's," Aladdin said. "My treat." Ariel looked back, ready to protest, but Aladdin interrupted. "Hey, let me apologize for almost crashing you into Captain Creatine, okay?"
Ariel sighed. "Well... Alright..."
Aladdin didn't tell her that it wouldn't be entirely his treat. Given Gaston's behavior, Aladdin was glad his old reflexes had kicked in and he'd picked Gaston's pocket.
0-0-0-0-0
Jasmine Namurr hadn't witnessed the little encounter between Aladdin, Ariel and Gaston. She and the other girls were busy talking and laughing.
But James Hook saw the whole thing. He'd seen Aladdin get distracted by the cute Gryffindor girl from Agrabah. He'd seen him accidentally steer the youngest Del Mar girl's wheelchair into the burly upperclassman. He'd seen Gaston stop himself from going roid-rage at the two younger Slytherins. And he'd seen-just barely-the boy's hand pass over Gaston's pocket and come away with the Gryffindor Beater's wallet, which vanished into Aladdin's own pocket. And neither Gaston, nor Ariel, nor the very gorgeous triplets had noticed a single thing.
Hook blinked, almost wondering if he'd seen it himself. Then, a slow grin spread across his face.
0-0-0-0-0
Anita and Cruella walked out of Madam Puddifoot's, laughing. "Oh, darling, I am glad I took this little trip," Cruella said. "Promise me you're not going to let yourself get too wrapped up in the school, won't you, dear? I wouldn't be able to face this wilderness alone."
Anita chuckled. "Of course, Cruella," she said. "I can't promise there won't be emergencies, but I will make time to visit you while you're staying here, all right?"
"Marvelous," Cruella said, taking out her cigarette holder and lighting up the thin, black cigarillo. She inhaled deeply and breathed out a stream of green-tinged smoke. "Oh, that's much better," she said. The threads of green smoke drifting from her mouth gave her a demonic appearance.
"Aren't you supposed to be down here for your health?" Anita asked, wrinkling her nose.
Cruella made a vague gesture with her hand, painting lines of green smoke in the air. "They're all natural, darling, don't worry."
Anita said nothing, knowing nothing would scare Cruella from her chosen vices. They walked towards her car, a huge, but elegant machine, like a cathedral on wheels. There were several people standing, not exactly near the car, but close enough to appreciate the vehicle. Even Anita, who couldn't tell an Audi from an armadillo, could see it was a beauty of a machine. The only admirers who dared to examine it up close were Hogwarts students. It was no surprise to Anita that Audrey Ramirez and Gogo Tomago, as Technomancy students, were gushing over the car, but Anita hadn't expected to see Gaston LeGume and the Bontemps triplets-though she expected the triplets were only there because they insisted upon inserting themselves into Gaston's orbit.
"Pardon me, my dear girl," Cruella said, waving away Gogo. She and Audrey stepped away from the vehicle, but remained close enough to look.
"I don't see Mr. Clayton anywhere," Anita said.
"Of course not, darling, he's at the cottage," Cruella replied, as if Anita were being silly.
Anita's eyebrows went up. "You mean he took you luggage but left the car?" Anita knew how much Cruella brought with her on even a weekend jaunt.
Cruella smiled at her. "He's ever so capable." She turned and opened her mouth to shoo away Gaston, as well, but paused. She took in the brawny sixth-year and chuckled. "It's a marvelous machine, isn't it?" she cooed.
"It sure is," he said, barely glancing at the woman.
"Yes," she said. "Lovely lines, and very...powerful."
Anita narrowed her eyes. "Cruella..."
Cruella leaned against the car. "If you're ever interested," she said, and Gaston couldn't help but notice how well her dress fit, "I'd love to take you for a spin."
"Cruella."
Cruella looked over at her friend and sighed. "Perhaps another time," she said to Gaston. She handed him a card and winked.
Anita drew herself up and urged the students on their way before spinning to face her school chum. "Cruella!" she hissed. "What are you doing?"
Cruella opened the door and climbed into the car. "Just appreciating the entertainments the countryside has to offer."
"He's a student, Cruella," Anita scolded.
Cruella smirked and keyed the ignition, eliciting a leonine roar from the engine. "Then perhaps you picked the right career, after all. Ta-ta, darling!" Cruella put her foot down and the car thundered away before Anita could respond.
0-0-0-0-0
One way or another, most of the visiting Hogwarts students ended up at the Three Broomsticks. It was one reason why James Hook went to the Hog's Head instead.
The clientele left each other alone, largely because they wanted to be left alone. The pub had earned itself a less than stellar reputation, but it was quiet and it served good beer. Sure, Hook still had a few months before he turned 18, but he never overdid it, he always paid for his drinks, and he never bothered anyone.
Besides, you couldn't call yourself a disreputable establishment unless you were willing to fudge birthday math a little.
Hook sat at the bar, enjoying the murky calm and the half-pint of bitter. It was one of those rare occasions when he allowed himself to drop the cheeky bravado he maintained at Hogwarts. No one here cared enough to question his behavior. Of course, in his experience, most people only questioned things like silence or tears or fits of rage because it was the Expected Thing. The only social pretense maintained at the Hog's Head was simply I'm Not Here And Neither Are You.
Hook's eyes happened to land on a little man walking to the men's room, and Hook realized it was time for him to pay a visit himself. He tossed back the last of his bitter, left a tip on the bar and made his way to the loo.
The men's room was as awful as expected, and Hook was glad he could pee standing up. He went to the urinal at the opposite end of the line from the little man who'd arrived before, and allowed nature to happen. The other man finished his business, washed, and left. When Hook had completed things, he, too, washed and left, but not before tucking the little envelope left on the sink into the inside pocket of his leather jacket.
0-0-0-0-0
One way or another, most of the visiting Hogwarts students ended up at the Three Broomsticks. This included Belle, though it was under protest. It wasn't calm and quiet, like Madam Puddifoot's, but at least it wasn't the Hog's Head. She knew some students talked about going there, trying to be all edgy and daring and defying the "mainstream". Possibly Shanyu Shonkhor or Sid Philips actually would; for everyone else it would just be talk. Belle had to admit, though, that it was nice to get away from Hogwarts for a little while and focus on something other than studies.
That was due largely to the Two Prince Charmings. Henry and Florian took every opportunity to turn things into a party, and they did the same here. Music was playing, and they convinced Madam Van Tassel, the proprietress to let them move some tables and dance. It didn't hurt that they urged Professor Crane to dance with her. Soon, there were more people whirling across the floor than not. Though some stuck with particular partners, most simply flung themselves around, thrilling to the simple joy of movement and music. Ella danced with Henry. Florian danced with Snow. Philip Thwaites and Briar Rose. Ella and Florian. Snow and Philip. Eric Somand and Jasmine Namurr. Mulan Fa and David Kawena. Henry and Florian.
At one point, Snow grabbed Belle and pulled her onto the floor. Laughter almost obliterating her sense of rhythm, Belle and the pale Hufflepuff spun, hand-in-hand, across the floor. It was likely the last chance she'd have to really cut loose before studies set in in earnest, so she allowed herself to be swept up in the gaiety.
After a moment, Snow passed Belle off to Eric Somand, who managed a complicated jig-step without stepping on a single toe. He was easily the best dancer among the boys, and it came as quite a shock when Belle found herself colliding with another boy, who stood stone-still. For a heartbeat, Belle was aware of only height and firm muscles, and was worried she had been flung into the arms of Gaston. Instead, when she looked up, she saw the icy blue eyes of Adam DuRose.
"I didn't expect to see you here," she said to him, her mirth starting to drain away.
He regarded her, Renaissance face devoid of emotion. "And where would you expect to find me?"
Haunting a crumbling castle? she thought. But she said, "I've never thought about it."
Adam nodded. "Figures." And before she could respond, he pushed her back out into swirl of dancers.
Many of the girls seemed eager to dance with Eric Somand, even if only for a little while. Philip and the Charmings were decent enough dancers, and game enough not to care if they looked silly-especially the Charmings. And when he danced with Briar-who was even more poised and graceful-it was almost impossible not to watch.
It was especially impossible, for Ariel Del Mar.
Aladdin had convinced her to come and join the convivial atmosphere at the Three Broomsticks. And she was enjoying herself until the dancing started. That was something she'd never be able to join in. Aladdin offered to wheel her out there and show her a good time, but she passed. She didn't feel like being "inspiring" to those who could move unaided. Instead, she urged Aladdin to get out there and enjoy himself. Aladdin didn't feel right about leaving Ariel by herself, but the look on her face clearly told him she would not appreciate him hanging around by her side. So, he made his reluctant way into the throng, buoyed by the scant possibility he'd have a few minutes to dance with Jasmine Namurr.
Ariel watched her schoolmates out on the floor, dancing and laughing. Even gawky Professor Crane was out there, being flung around by the lovely Madam Van Tassel. Eric looked so happy, glowing with the sheer joy of movement. And Briar Rose, tall, elegant and radiant, was pure poetry in motion.
It gave Ariel a sick, leaden ache in her chest.
She left a tip on the table and wheeled herself out the door, hoping Aladdin wouldn't see her leave. He'd be all comforting and sympathetic and encouraging, and she was in no mood to be cared at. Aladdin was her best friend, but his kind words couldn't fix this. Better to sneak off to her room and not face anybody until tomorrow. Luckily, she was able to slip out of the Three Broomsticks without him noticing.
But Professor Cecily had seen it all.