25 October 2024

Room 121

12:30 AM

Today I was visited by our family owl. After my last afternoon class, I entered our dorm to the sight of her furiously tapping on our window.

"I just got here, too," said Gina, who was snapping on her Quidditch shin guards. "She yours?"

I nodded, let the owl in, and took the scrap of parchment tied to her leg. She nipped my hand affectionately before flying off, and I opened the note to see a familiar rounded scrawl.

Rosie, we need to talk about the thing I asked.

"Dad, Portus is innocent. At least, as innocent as dueling clubs can get. What I mean is, they don't seem involved in anything worse than the illegal break-ins. Nothing's been stolen in the houses, I checked during my free day." My only free day that week, I was tempted to add.

I bullied Agnes into coming with me to the Muggle houses on dad's list. At first, she was hesitant, but pretending to be backpacking nature trippers appealed to her, so she went along. Apparently, Portia and Diane, fresh out of boarding school and seeing the world, are believable enough. Several of the house owners talked to us, all with the same story. They were out for the night, and found an open window or door when they got home. Nothing out of place except that.

He snorted. "They're about as harmless as Ginny is with her Bat-Bogey hexes," he said darkly.

"Aunt Ginny is harmless, you know, that's a bad analogy."

He shook his head. "Rose, if you're going to be a proper Auror, you better not write people off like you do. Your aunt can take care of herself, believe me."

I can't imagine my sweet, kindly aunt doing hexes. Must verify this with her kids.

"Anyway, I'd best be off. We're doing the swamp again," I said.

My dad grimaced. "Don't you love the part where you have to run over the Dugbog lairs?"

"Absolutely. They're real charmers. Everyone in class had bleeding ankles for the first couple of days."

We laughed until he had to shoo me away. "Just call if you have anything else for me," he said.

I exited the booth and made my way to Evening Resocialization. The sky was a dark, cloudy purple, with the faintest hint of sun in the horizon. The three pubs we had in the Tower were alive with laughter and music, and the shops were closing their blinds and locking their doors. Even Portus' windows were ablaze with lights. I sighed, rounded the corner and entered the arena.

The already familiar smell of peat and cedar hit my nostrils. We'd been working through this course for the past few days, and on other courses before then. For a while, we had a forest, and then a jungle. After the swamp, who knows what we'd be doing next.

My fellow trainees were milling about at the mouth of the course, wand tips glowing with Lumos. Outside, there were still blots of orange in the sky, but inside the arena, it seemed to be near midnight. I nodded at Agnes and Lorcan.

"Good work at the blindfolds today," I said, smiling at the two of them.

"We were all good," said Lorcan diplomatically. "Brilliant how you figured out that Agnes and I were undercover. I thought we were being more hostile than necessary."

"Nah. It's just good guesswork on my part," I said.

I stopped to talk to Bea Farley. There wasn't much that I remembered in our conversation, because there was something interesting happening behind her.

Scorpius was with Deirdre, who was talking fast and gesturing with her hands. It was the liveliest I'd seen her become, which is a nice surprise, but I was slightly put off by how intensely he was looking at her. Once in a while, he would run a hand through his hair, fluffing it up. He even touched her shoulder a couple of times. She seemed oblivious to it all, but he had the air of a cat about to pounce. I wanted to snatch my roommate away, but I was afraid I'll look crazy.

Tuttle's boots squelched through the mud, interrupting my thoughts. We knew the drill, and lined up beside our partners before she reached her favorite spot. When she faced us, she drew her wand and aimed skyward. People all around me tensed, and everyone sprang when she fired.

No one wants kitchen duty after dinner.

"Oilskin," I muttered, pointing at my robes, rushing into the course afterward.

"Malfoy," I shouted. "Where are you?" My sleeve snagged in some low branches, and I struggled to free myself with one hand. I sighed. Yesterday, I was the one who had to hold the light while he kept his wand ready for attacks, and I didn't leave him. Not once.

I brought out my wand. "Lumos," I said, swinging it around, but the light hit nothing but trees and undergrowth. Once we entered the course, we couldn't hear or see anyone but our partner, and right now mine was having a grand old time playing hide and seek. The silence was making me edgy.

A high-pitched screech broke the silence. I'm pretty sure wasn't from Scorpius, but the bang that came afterwards might've been from his wand. I hesitated for a moment before retracing my steps. Slogging through the dank terrain, I tried calling his name again. After a few minutes I saw a white flare shoot up into the inky sky. I scrambled towards the direction of the flare.

"Am I close?" I said aloud. I heard a groan from beyond a patch of laurel, and I pushed the brush aside.

Oh man. Scorpius was sitting, back against a tree, his face cut up. I knelt beside him, and he grimaced. "Took long enough," he gasped out. "Limbs bruised," he added.

"You look terrible! What happened?"

"Red cap," he said, wincing as he spoke. Blood was trickling from his lip.

Remorse washed over me. Red caps don't attack people unless they're alone; if Scorpius was with me, he wouldn't have been targeted. But as soon as I started feeling guilty, it was replaced by indignation. If he just stayed and waited for me, he wouldn't have been alone to begin with.

"What's that?" he said thickly, eyes wide with alarm, as I leveled my wand with his cheek.

"Shut up. I'm helping you." I started to whisper a spell, but he stayed my hand.

"You sure?" he said.

I stared pointedly at him, and he relented, closing his eyes. After I was done, he moved his arms and legs, and touched his face gingerly. "How'd you do that?" he said.

I shrugged. "With a thousand cousins and Quidditch practice, you're bound to learn a few tricks. Good thing nothing went too deep or I wouldn't have been able to patch you up."

I peered closer at him. "How did the Red cap get to you, though? They're pretty easy to hit with a Stunning spell."

He lifted his spell casting hand. "It's a bit stiff from the wand exercises. I wasn't very quick to jinx it," he said, and I felt for him. For the past few days, we'd been doing these exercises. Lift your hand, slash the air, and bring it down, that sort of thing. For a gangly person like me, it's not that difficult, but I imagine it must've been hellish for others. Lionel Dawlish, who has meaty arms, was sweating, and that's all we were doing—lift, slash, bring down.

"Do you need to rest for a bit?" I said. I was surprised at the softness in my own voice. Apparently, he was, too; a perplexed look crossed his face. He shook his head.

We didn't talk much after that; we lost much time, and had a lot of ground to cover. He practically flew across the course, and I struggled to keep up, blasting Dugbogs when they tried to bite our feet. Sometimes, all I could see was the light on his wand tip, and I just kept it in sight. I caught up with him eventually, and he gave me a half smile, which I returned.

I like running with him. I don't know why; we don't even speak.

After almost an hour we emerged from the swamp, and I walked to a patch of dry grass and plopped down on it. He sat beside me.

"I thought that Red cap was going to beat me to death. Thanks for coming back."

I looked at the other people who have started to come out. "Don't mention it," I said. I meant it—he made it like I was some sort of hero. I had no choice but to come back, anyway; we had to complete the course together.

"Next time, I'll try to be more creative with the thank you," he said before walking away. I stared up at the black sky of the arena. It's nothing. Just him being nice.

When I looked back down, he was talking to Deirdre again. They had their heads bent together, and she was patting his back softly. Meanwhile, Scorpius was preening again. An ugly feeling I couldn't name bloomed in my chest, and it gripped tighter when my roommate threw her head back and laughed.

Tuttle cleared her throat, and everyone fell silent. "Good work on the wetlands course," she said, and it got a few appreciative murmurs from our group. "Yang and Corner, you're on kitchen duty tonight."

"Next week, we start with survival training," she continued. "Further details will be discussed onsite." She swept her eyes around, and gave us a rare smile. "Enjoy your weekend," she said, before dismissing us for the evening.

We filed out of the arena. A part of the crowd petered into the pubs, intent on celebrating before our first day on the field. I followed Agnes and Lorcan into the mess hall, hanging behind them.

Tonight, the mess hall dinner tasted like cardboard. I chewed distractedly, the conversations around me just a faint humming in the distance. Survival training. I can't even camp in our backyard without freaking out, and now I have to do it for days? And how in Circe's name will the sleeping arrangements be like? I seriously contemplated switching partners with Lorcan, at least just at night.

Some target practice will be a good distraction, I thought. After eating, I went to the practice courts, and made a beeline for the only available spellcasting range. Survival training…further details onsite… I took a deep breath.

"Satus," I said. I fell into place, waiting for the moving targets to come into view.

This range isn't my favorite. It uses Bludgers as targets, and I've the most practice being a Chaser or a Keeper. From the corner of my eye, I saw something move. I turned and fired at the target, sending it spiraling back to its cage. A few seconds later, the next one came, this time from the left. It turned frantic, bursts of light flying in all directions, balls coming from the front, back, and sides. My wand was a blur of light brown as I flicked it from target to target. Sweat was trickling down my brows, and I was feeling a dull ache in my side, but I ignored it.

The pain was spreading, but the targets kept coming. I crouched, resting my forehead on my knees. Damn stitch. Overhead, the targets were smashing against each other. I stood up, wincing as a Bludger rammed against my stomach.

"Finite," I coughed out, and the targets froze, falling to the ground. I sighed. To my rough estimate, I blasted a quarter—not even half. I sent them back to the Bludger cage.

"Less than half," a voice behind me said, echoing my thoughts. I turned and found myself looking into Ricky Lyons' deep blue eyes.

"Had a stitch in my side," I said, putting my wand back in my robes. His dark hair flopped over his forehead, and his face was flushed—he'd also probably been training.

How do you look that good after a workout, though?

"You don't drop by headquarters a lot," he said. It was a statement, not a question, and I didn't know how to respond to it. I settled for shrugging.

"Your second spends much more time at Portus," he added, eyebrows lifted. Say what?

"Does he now?" I said nonchalantly, making my way to the stands. "I don't see why he wouldn't. He appears to have more in common with them than I do."

"I agree. He appears to have a lot of things in common with the women of Portus. In the past week alone, I've seen him cozy up to—" he glanced at me. "—I mean, he talks to both men and women. But not in that way, mind. But who knows, eh, I haven't really talked to him. Er. I think I'll shut up now."

"No, please, go on. I enjoy hearing about my training partner's romantic life," I said, and he grinned.

Let it be noted that I have no delusions of getting together with Ricky. But I do find him handsome. The way he acts, though, makes you think that he's genuinely unaware that he looks good. Or maybe he's trying not to make such a big deal out of it.

Unlike some people.

We sat in a rather awkward silence. I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I pretended to be very interested in my split ends. Well, actually, it was interesting; there are so much more of them now. I should buy some serum. Or ask Gina what potion she uses on her hair.

"You don't look at them properly," he said. I frowned—I had no idea what he was talking about—and he nodded at the direction of the Bludgers. "The targets, you don't look at them properly."

I wanted to tell him that if I had a hankering for riddles, I would've talked to a sphinx. But I just stood up and gestured towards the cage. "Show me," I said.

We started walking. "You have two kinds of Bludgers here," he started. "There's the kind that comes after you, and those that are just attracted to explosions. Every time you start a fresh round, there'll be about fifteen Bludgers that'll attack you directly. What you have to do, then—"

"—is to find them first," I finish. "Why did I not notice something like that?"

"Ready when you are," he said, reaching for his wand.

A while later, we counted the number of targets we hit. "Almost all of them, yeah?" I said, which cracked him up. Still chuckling, he sent the Bludgers back to the cage. I was about to ask him if he wanted to start again, when he put a hand to his eyebrows and groaned.

"I forgot to walk with Andy back to her dorm. She's at Portus, and—I'm really sorry. She wigs out when I don't keep my promises. I have to leave."

"No problem, go," I said, and pushing him towards the doors. He flashed me one last (perfect) smile before rushing out. I sighed—Chancellor Fowler's one lucky girl.

I had to go, too. A glance at my watch told me that it was nearing nine, and the practice courts would close soon. Deliberately, I chose a path to the dorms that led away from the club. My training partner might still be there, and I don't want any more awkward encounters with him. Note to self, I thought, devise a way to Malfoy-proof my weekend.

I stifled a yawn as I headed for our dorm room. With any luck, I thought, Agnes is still at the pubs, Gina's with her Quidditch friends, and Deirdre's sleeping or reading a book. I just wanted to lie down and pass out. And wake up on Monday.

Just as I thought, Deidre was snuggled in bed, her back to the door. She probably fell asleep reading again, because the lights were on and a book was lying on the floor. It made me smile a bit.

I plumped my pillow and was ready to jump in when I saw a single rose tucked between my sheets. There was a note with the it, and I unfolded the bit of parchment.

Hi.

I'm inviting you to lunch tomorrow.

(This is me being creative with my thank you's.)

S

Well, bloody hell.

I'm sorry this took so long! Also, credits to Matisse Gacioppo for being such a trooper. It's a thankless job Beta-ing fanfics.

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