Prompt: Homorphus - Skye & Lance

Being a night owl had always been something of a curse when she was a student at Hogwarts since there was nothing really to entertain her at night when everyone else was blissfully asleep and she's stuck in her bed trying to fight off insomnia.

Fortunately, as an instructor, Skye would admit the gig has its perks. For one, she didn't have a curfew. She could stay up as late as she wanted so long as she was awake enough to teach the next morning. She got her sleep schedule on a routine now that that wasn't a problem for her.

The second reason was that the school itself comes alive in an entirely different way once all the students were off to bed. The ghosts that roam the halls were livelier. The house elves in the kitchens were always offering her food (when were they not) when she ventured in for a midnight snack. Even the paintings whispered more in the late night hours. Most nights, once she was sure everyone was asleep, Skye would lock up her office and roam the halls, excited to see what adventures lie in the mysterious castle because even after years of being there, she was pretty there were still corners of it she hadn't seen or explored yet.

On this night, she had agreed to accompany Lance on one of his nightly patrols. He said that it's normally ridiculously boring but he finds ways to entertain himself (usually it was in the form of pestering Sir Cadogan, the knight in the painting).

She met up with him at the staircase by the caretaker's office and chuckled when she saw him followed by a kitten.

"Whose your friend?" Skye said with a twinkle in her eyes.

Lance looked down at the tiny calico and annoyingly shrugged. "Beats me. I was at the Hog's Head having a pint and when I left, it followed me back."

Skye bent down and scratched its head. The little cat made a mewing sound and tried to swat Skye's finger but lots its balance and toppled over. "Aw, aren't you a cutie?"

"Thanks." Lance smirked.

"I was talking about-"

"I know what you were talking about, Skye. Just let me have this okay?" Lance said moodily.

Skye raised at eyebrow at him and tilted her head. "Sheesh, what's eating you?"

"I was… nevermind." Lance shook his head as they started to walk the length of the corridor and up the steps towards the second floor for the beginning of the patrol.

"What? Tell me. Nay-" Skye bent down and scooped up the tiny kitten in hand and said, "Tell Mr. Fluffypants."

"We are not calling him Mr. Fluffypants." Lance argued.

"Why not? It's cute, just like him!" Skye cooed as she nuzzled the cat's head.

"First of all, I have too much dignity to keep a cat. Second of all, if you're going to keep him, you can't give him a name like that!"

"Why not? If he's my cat, I can name him whatever I damn well want!" Skye snapped at him as she pet the cat. The cat was indifferent to the exchange between the two humans.

"You can't because as a bro, I'm going to do him a solid and not have to subject the tike to a horrendous name like Mr. Fluffypants every time someone calls him. It's a matter of principle."

Skye rolled her eyes at that before she shrugged and suggested, "Alfred, then?"

"He's not your butler."

"But it would be so cool! I'll be Batman - except 100 percent cooler because I can do actual magic!" Skye stated gleefully as they made their way towards the restroom on second floor when she saw how tense Lance got.

"Hunter? Why are smiling in a totally creepy wa-"

"Shh! Looks like the night's improving for me already." Lance whispered as he crept around the corner and saw a pair of first years crouched over something, their backs turned to Lance and Skye.

Skye was impressed by how stealthy Lance swiftly moved towards the boys with deadly precision. She would not be surprised in the slightest if he was an ex-hit wizard when it just occurred to her that she had never seen him do magic.

"Hello boys."

The first years yelped and whirled around to see Skye and the school caretaker and knew that they were safe. "Oh. It's just you, Mr. Hunter."

"Whatchu boys got there?" Hunter asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Skye had to admit that though he could be a bit annoying, Hunter had killer arms. "Is that a packet of Frog Spawn Soap? Let me guess you filled the soap cartridges in the girl's bathroom with that joke stuff."

"How did you know?" the smaller of the two asked in astonishment. The bigger one jabbed him in the chest with his elbow. "Ow!"

Lance just shook his head. "You know boys, I normally would just give you a detention for being out of bed after curfew… but since I, more or less, caught you in the act with a witness, looks like you boys will need to be taught a lesson the hard way." Lance taunted menacingly. "Professor Skye your wand, please?"

"Uh, Hunter are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely."

His smile looked more sinister than Skye had ever seen it and was suddenly afraid for the student's lives.

Skye was in a bit of a conundrum: on one hand, she didn't think that the boys needed to be punished this bad (especially when Lance was in a mood) but on the other hand, she really wanted to see if he was a wizard or a squib like the rumors suggested. Her curiosity won out and she placed Alfred on the floor before pulling her wand from the inside of her robe and handing it to Hunter.

He took a step back and fell into a stand that had Skye racing through hundreds of spells he could choose.

"Prepare yourselves boys." Hunter said in an alarmingly calm voice before he pointed the wand at them and spoke his spell. "Homorphus."

'What?' Skye thought. 'I've never heard of that spell before…' and watched as nothing happened. Despite this fact, the boys were shaking like a leaf, their faces were pale and on the verge of tears.

"Now, will we ever be out of bed past curfew again?" Lance prompted.

The boys shook their head violently.

"Good! Off with you then." Lance stated before he turned to Skye, "Your wand, Professor. Oh and boys?"

The two students froze and turned to him slowly.

"In one moon cycle, you boys might be experiencing some… changes to your physicality. You should be experiencing mood swings, growing of hair in unusual places, and you voice dropping a few octaves. That's when you'll know that my curse is working and that you are slowly turning into a werewolf. Right then, as you were." The boys were crying at this point and ran off towards the dorms in terror as to what had just happened to them… and what will happen to them.

"What the hell was that, Hunter?" Skye demanded as she picked up Alfred into her arms and followed him down the the corridor.

Lance chuckled, "Aw, just harmless fun, Skye, don't be dower. Besides, you know it wasn't a real spell anyway."

"Those boys were pissing their pants!"

"I know," Lance laughed as he shook his head, "it was priceless. By Merlin, I love first years."

Prompt: Riddikulus - Fitz & Ward

"I've got a boggart in my closet. Could you get rid of it for me? It keeps turning into The Silence."

Grant looked up from his stack of quizzes and gave the Charms professor a look. "The what?"

"The Silence, you know, Doctor Who. Scary, three fingered, memory erasing, electrocuting monster that looks like that fellow from that "Scream" painting." Fitz brought his hands up to either side of his face and imitated a screaming face.

"Right…okay," Grant said wearily before he grabbed his wand and followed Fitz into the hallway towards his office, "despite what you may really think of me, Fitz, I'll have you know that I, in fact, do not watch British television programs made for children because of pride or dignity or self-respect. Whichever; take your pick."

"Doctor Who is not just a television programme!" Fitz argued, "It's a science-fiction programme that started in 1963 and is still running today! It's a significant part of British popular culture and elsewhere it has become a cult television favorite. The show has influenced generations of British television professionals, many of whom grew up watching the series. It is a very reputable show!"

Grant just nodded as they came to a halt inside the Charms classroom. "Uh-huh, whatever helps you sleep better at night. Now, you said it was in the closet?"

"Yeah," Fitz said tensely, "just over there." He pointed to the large cupboard in the corner that was rumbling and rattling as though something was trying to beat its way out of the locked cabinet.

"Right," Grant pulled out his wand and was quiet for a moment. Fitz figured the guy couldn't think of anything funny and started to wonder if this might have turned into a fool's errand. But after a moment, the taller man brought his wand up and enunciated, "Alohamora."

As the door of the cabinet unlocked and slowly opened, Fitz and Grant braced themselves for the shape-shifting non-being to come out.

Instead, what they heard was water dripping onto the hardwood floor.

The water dripped and dripped and soon the dripping was followed by a sniffle. It sounded like a child, but Fitz couldn't see him from the darkness of the cabinet. Suddenly, a single wet foot stepped out onto the floor, the figure following afterwards. It was a boy, no older than 10 years old, sopping wet and shivering.

Fitz looked at kid that the boggart transformed into with confusion and was about to ask Grant who he was when he saw the look on the taller man's face.

Grant looked to have been petrified into silence. Fitz had never seen the man so effected by anything; the defense Against the Dark Arts instructor was usually unfazed by anything that gets thrown his way but now it was like Fitz was seeing a whole different person.

His voice wavered with uncertainty when he spoke. "Ward?"

"Grant… help me," the boggart child called out to him; sounded like he was choking on something, "Grant… please… I can't breathe."

When he just stood there stunned, Fitz said his name again. "Ward!"

And yet still, he stood, unmoved by Fitz's call, his attention transfixed on the boy in front of him. Not really sure what to do at this point, Fitz brought his wand up and cast the spell, "Riddikulus!"

The wet child shifted into a monkey juggling on roller-skates and it started to flinch as Fitz's laughter broke the silence in the air. After a beat, even Grant looked slightly bemused by the scene, albeit still in his own stoic way.

Once it realized that it could not terrorize the occupants any longer, the boggart flew from the room and off to find another dark corner of the castle to hide in.

Fitz finally got a hold of his fit of chuckles and turned to Grant. "You okay there, Ward? Kinda botched that up a bit, ey?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly and then promptly turned around to leave the room. "Well, you seem to have taken care of your pest problem. If that'll be all-"

"Oye, I just asked you if you're alright you emotionally constipated bugger!" Fitz groused.

"I'm fine," Grant grounded out, sending him a look that said that this conversation was over and left without another word.

Fitz was left scratching his head. "The hell was that?"

Prompt: Confringo - Fitz and/or Skye

Fitz and Jemma were in the teacher's lounge when Skye came into in a huff. "Is that food? Argh, I'm starving!"

"Why weren't you at lunch?" Fitz asked, "There was sausage casserole with butter beans."

Skye glared at the Charms professor as she grabbed two pumpkin pasties and proceeded to wolf them down. "Don't even talk about that! I was waiting at the owlery for 3 frigging hours waiting for Coulson's stupid comic book since he's at the Ministry with Hill doing whatever headmasters and mistresses do there."

Jemma and Leo nod sympathetically. "Why didn't you just come down for lunch and then go back up?"

Skye rolled her eyes. "Coulson gave me strict instructions that if that comic is even a tiny bit damaged or marred in any way, I would have to clean out the stables by myself for a week! I bet you it was because he thought I broke his replica of the golden snitch from that one famous quidditch match he loves so much-"

"1942 Quidditch World Cup match. Sweetwater All-Stars vs. Heidelberg Harriers." Jemma and Fitz said simultaneously.

"Yeah," Skye nodded, "that one."

"Did you though?" Jemma prompted, "actually break the snitch, that is?"

Skye pursed her lips. "… maybe?"

The other two shrugged and gave her a look that said, "well, there you have it."

"Whatever! I'm glad that's over finally. I don't get why he's so paranoid about that stuff," Skye complained as she slumped down and took a tentative sip from her cup of tea that Jemma poured for her.

"People are very sensitive about stuff that they care about. " Jemma commented diplomatically, "Why, Fitz here is paranoid that people will know that he's got a fascination with replicating a magical light saber."

Fitz turned to her with a look of outrage written all over his face. "Well, it ain't as bad as Ward's fear of small, wet children!"

Jemma and Skye looked at him as though he'd grown a second head. "What?"

"Yeah, the other day, I asked him to come and take care of a boggart for me because it kept turning into The Silence from Doctor Who-"

"Oh, The Silence is frightening, sure, but not nearly as frightening as the Weeping Angels. At least, the boggart didn't turn into one of those!" Jemma argued. "You can't even blink before you get zapped into the past, loosing the rest of your life force from your time!"

"No," Fitz countered, "tell me how a stone shaped alien is more scary than a friggin being that can blast you with electricity!"

As the two argued about the validity of their claim on which Doctor Who monster was scarier, neither of them noticed how quiet Skye got. One moment Fitz was arguing about the legitimacy of why the Silence was more of a threat than a Weeping Angel, the next moment, a large explosion shook the room.

"What the hell was that?!" Fitz whirled around and saw a small crater on the floor a few feet from where they were sitting, with a smoldering pile of ash at the center of it. "Why?" Fitz asked in confusion, not able to properly articulate his thoughts as he looked over the Skye.

Skye winced, "Sorry. There was a spider."

Jemma and Fitz looked at her stunned. "And you thought using confr- a blasting curse was an appropriate response to the presence of a single spider?" Fitz sputtered.

Skye held up her hand. "In my defense, it was a really big spider."

"You could have blasted the whole bloody room to smithereens! And I promise you, that'll definitely be more than a year's worth of stable cleaning!" Fitz roared.

"A really, really big spider?" Skye offered.

Fitz shook his head. "I can't- I can't do this! Here, I was trying to have a serious conversation but no! You just had to go bring out the fireworks. You girls are hazard to my health, you know that!" he picked up his things and stormed out of the lounge pushing past Bobbi as he muttered to himself down the hall. "Hazard!"

"What's up with him?" she asked as she looked around the room. her follow up question was in regards to the pile of soot on the ground. "What's up with that?"

Skye not wanting to dig herself an even deeper hole just waved the question off, "Water under the bridge. What's up with you? How's it goin'?"

Bobbi nodded. "Good. I'm just looking for Fred the tarantula. He got out of his tank last night and I've been looking for him all morning. Have you seen him?"

Jemma and Skye were silent for a beat before Jemma asked the million dollar question, "Was he a really, really big spider?"

Prompt: Crucio - Grant Ward

They're surrounded—pinned down and cornered in the courtyard—and things are looking grim. Jacobson and Chaimson are both dead and Kwan, by the looks of it, might join them any minute. He's down and bleeding, and if not for the wards over the manor, his emergency Portkey would have whisked him away to St. Mungo's about ten curses ago.

John's on the other side of the courtyard, sheltering with Hawkins and Carter behind some statues. Grant knowshe's alive because he can hear him swearing between incantations, but Hawkins and Carters' statuses are unknown.

As for himself…

He's simultaneously dueling four different wizards while protecting Kwan. He's managed to avoid most of the curses cast his way, but one of the bastards got a lucky Reducto to the wall behind him, and he took some shrapnel to the shoulder. It's slowed him down—not by much, because pain is nothing new, but in these circumstances, every second counts.

He no sooner has the thought than his point is abundantly proven: three curses head for him while one is aimed at Kwan, and he has to make a choice.

He erects a shield around Kwan and dodges the first two curses, but he has to let the third hit him or the shield will fail—and then Kwan is dead for sure. It's a strategic decision; he knows exactly what the third curse is (recognizes it from previous experience) and what it will do to him, and he definitely doesn't want to get hit by it, but better the curse you know than the one you don't, and he doesn't recognize the other two.

So he lets the Crucio hit.

His world is pain. Every nerve is on fire. It's like being ripped apart and twisted back together and then ripped apart again. He realizes, dimly, that he's screaming, but he can't stop. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice tells him to work through it, grab his wand, cast something—anything—but he can't move past the pain.

All he can do is feel.

Days or decades later, it finally ends. He's on the ground, his wand beside him, and before he can even reach for it there's a boot on his hand, grinding his fingers into the cobblestone beneath them.

"Not so fast, Hit-Wizard," the man above him grins. "Not a fan of the Cruciatus, then? You should give it another go—you might find you like it."

Then there's a wand aimed directly at his face, and he doesn't even have time to brace himself before—

Grant wakes when he hits the ground, and he's instantly on his feet, wand in hand, ready to curse the bastard that…

That isn't here.

He takes a deep breath and scrubs his free hand over his face, then sets his wand on the nightstand. He's at Hogwarts, not that old manor. He's a teacher, not a Hit-Wizard, and the only dangers here are over-zealous students and the occasional wandering creature.

It was just a memory. He doesn't know what stirred it up after so many years, but…it was just a memory.

Knowing that it was just a memory doesn't do anything to lessen the effects of the nightmare. There's a familiar thrumming under his skin—anger and adrenaline and pent-up magic—and he knows he won't be sleeping again anytime soon.

He glances at the clock; it's just after one, which gives him six hours to work this energy off and hopefully get a few more hours' sleep before breakfast.

To his training room it is, then. He dresses hurriedly—because he gets enough unsettling looks from the upper-year girls as it is and can't imagine that running into one of them dressed only in pajama pants would help (and no matter how harsh the punishments on offer, no boarding school has ever successfully stopped students from wandering out-of-bounds at night)—then grabs his wand from the nightstand and leaves his quarters.

Hopefully a few hours spent putting himself through his paces will help erase the memory of his own screams.

Prompt: Crucio - Jemma Simmons and Grant Ward

** (Follows Grant Ward: Crucio)

As a Potions Mistress, Jemma is accustomed to late nights. Potions is a very delicate, very specific art, and each individual potion requires attention in very exact ways—ways which care little for the brewer's sleep schedule.

So it is that Jemma is used to dragging herself out of bed in the middle of the night to stir a particular potion on time, or add a specific ingredient or increase the heat or any of a thousand other little things which help along the process of a group of ingredients becoming a cohesive potion.

Which isn't to say she's particularly happy about it, but…needs must.

On this particular night, however, she isn't dragging herself out of bed—mostly because she hasn't slept at all. She's working on an experimental potion of her own design, which will—hopefully—eventually be a more effective version of Dreamless Sleep. Magic enjoys irony, so she's experimenting with the effect that missing sleep to work on a potion meant to induce it will have.

(Specifically, her goal is to eliminate the potion's addictive properties. It's a fascinating and challenging experiment, and she's been enjoying it, but she's slightly concerned by it, as well. Or, more precisely, she's concerned by the fact that Headmaster Coulson asked her to undertake it. Generally, he leaves her to her experimenting and doesn't get involved; to have made a request is very unlike him and somewhat worrying.)

Sometime around one in the morning, she's distracted from her brewing—or, rather, her reading; she's keeping herself awake by grading essays as she waits for the potion to finish simmering—by the tingle of her proximity alarm going off.

She frowns and sets the essays aside, stands, and heads out into the corridor. Students are generally wise enough to avoid her section of the dungeons during their late-night wanderings, as everyone knows that she keeps a proximity charm on the entire corridor at night—not in the interests of catching students out after curfew, of course, but rather because her work is delicate and the last thing she needs is an unexpected visitor distracting her at a crucial moment and causing an explosion.

When she reaches the corridor, she finds that her unexpected visitor is not a student, but a professor. Specifically, Grant—looking exhausted and more than slightly on-edge—is just passing her door as she opens it. He whirls to face her, and she has the distinct impression she's perhaps a fourth of a second away from being hexed when he relaxes and palms his face.

"Your proximity alarm, of course," he says, almost to himself. "I'm sorry, I wasn't—if I'd been thinking, I'd have taken the long way."

"It's fine," she dismisses. She's really more concerned with him—if he not only forgot but didn't notice her proximity alarm (his ability to detect wards as he crosses them is utterly fascinating, and something she isdying for more details about, though she thinks it would be quite rude to ask), he really must not be well. "Are you all right, Grant?"

"Yeah, fine," he says (unconvincingly). "I just—couldn't sleep. Thought I'd get some training in, try to tire myself out a bit."

He looks plenty tired to Jemma, and she suspects his actual difficulty is nightmares. But she can't imagine calling him on it will help any.

Still, she can't bear the idea of letting him go when he looks like this—so clearly shaken and on edge, a distinct contrast to his usually calm demeanor. She casts a look over her shoulder, considering her potion, and then mentally dismisses it. Her lack of attention will undoubtedly ruin this attempt, but that's fine. It will simply spoil, not explode, so there's no danger—just inconvenience.

And she can tolerate inconvenience (and another few sleepless nights, as she starts over) if it means Grant stops looking so terribly alone.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asks.

He blinks. "Join me? You don't…"

"Not in training," she specifies, and can't help but laugh a little at the look on his face. He's obviously trying to find a delicate way to inform her that his training is far, far above her level—something that is undoubtedly true, and therefore not offensive at all. "What I meant was, I'm not making much progress tonight, and it's very frustrating. I could use some company, and I thought that perhaps you could, as well."

He's silent for a long moment, and despite herself, her heart sinks a little. (Which is just silly—if the man doesn't want company after what was clearly a horrible nightmare, it's nothing to be taken personally—but there it is.)

Then he smiles, just a little.

"Yeah, actually," he says, and he sounds a bit surprised at himself. "I really could."

"Excellent," she says, and sweeps an arm in the direction of his training room. "Lead the way, then."

Prompt: Dissendium - Skye and Tripp

In the cover of night, Trip moved stealthy across the deserted corridor on the third floor and came to a stop in front of the One-Eyed Witch statue.

"Dissendium" Trip whispered. He takes a tentative step back as the hump on the witch's statue opened to reveal a short slide into a dark and earthly tunnel.

Trip glance quickly up and down the corridor, hoisted himself headfirst into the hole and pushed himself forward. Once inside, he held up his wand, muttered, "Lumos", and saw that he was in the familiar narrow passageway that stretched out beneath the castle and into the darkness.

He tucked his wand into his robe, making the coins in his pocket jingle about before he stood still and focused his energy. Moments later, he felt a familiar primal take over brew in his body as he gave in to the change of his physical form. In his human form, Trip estimated that it would take him about fifty minutes to reach Hogsmeade. In his animagus form of a panther though, he was sure he would make quick work of the distance to the cellar of Honeydukes.

He waited to make sure the opening into the school was closed behind him before he leapt into the passageway, his cat like eyes serving as guidance in the darkness. He was on a mission and he had only a couple of hours to do so until Hunter makes his rounds on the third floor. Trip would rather not have to explain to him why he was out, in the dead of night, going to Honeydukes.

The reason was a noble one, sure, but Trip would never live it down if the school caretaker found out that he had snuck off in the middle of the night to pick up exploding bonbons for Skye.

She'd been injured earlier that day at the quidditch match by a stray bludger and was now in the hospital wing recovering from a fractured wrist. Later in the hospital wing, she joked with Trip that when she attended Hogwarts as a student, Coulson used to always bring her exploding bonbons whenever she got injured during quidditch. It was a small gesture but one that stuck with the young Muggle Studies instructor till this day. Seeing how miserable she was, Trip decided he could do this small gesture for her… as a friend would for another friend.

When he was sure he would never reach the cellar, the look on Skye's face when she saw the exploding bonbons kept him going. After what felt like thirty minutes the passage began to rise. Panting, Trip took a few moments to catch his breath before transforming back into his human form. He pulled out his wand, and illuminated the dark passageway and the worn stone steps beneath his feet, which rose out of sight above him. Careful not to make any noise, Trip ascended the staircase. He had forgotten how many steps it was until her reached the top and lost count at a hundred or so when suddenly, his head hit the wooden planks that lined the floor of the cellar.

Carefully as he could, he pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge. All that he could see were the wooden crates and boxes; not a soul in sight. For fear of tripping any warding spells that the store may or may not be armed with, Trip took a deep breath and concentrated on summoning to him a bag of bonbons. Moments later, a bag of colorful candy whizzed towards him, which he caught easily in his wand-less hand.

Now came the tricky part.

He pulled out the coins in his hand and picked out a single shiny gold galleon. Placing a levitating charm on it, Trip closed his eyes and imagined the set-up of Honeydukes, before sending the coin on its way to the top of the wooden steps. He slid it under the door and hoped that Mr. or Mrs. Flume find it before a patron does.

With the bag of treats in hand, Trip tucked it and his wand safely away in his pocket before transforming back into a panther and leapt down the hundred or so steps and smiled happily as he made the long trek back to Hogwarts.

Prompt: Scourgify - Jemma and Skye

DO TAKE CARE DURING YOUR EXCURSION THROUGH THE DUNGEONS, AS PESKY PIXIES HAVE SCATTERED POTION INGREDIENTS ALL OVER!

"Uh oh," Skye murmured as she read the sign that hung above the corridor leading towards the Potions class.

She cringe at the state of the classroom when she walked through the threshold.

Jemma was elbow deep in a green slime that Skye recognized was used for thickening potions. "Hey there, Simmons. You need a hand with-"

"Flobberworm mucus, Skye!" Jemma interjected, her displeasure evident on her frazzled features. Strands of her dark amber hair was stuck to her forehead and neck with sweat and stray drops of mucus. "All over the place! It is an absolute mess in here! There's no way I can conduct the joint class with Ward now."

The Muggle Studies instructor quirked an eyebrow in confusion before she volunteered to help with the clean up.

Jemma's unusually foul behavior evaporated as panic seem to set into her features. "Oh, no. Th-that won't be necessary. I'm sure you have a very busy schedule to attend to and I wouldn't want to impose with such a daunting chore-"

Skye narrows her eyes and pulls out her wand without ceremony before pointing it at a very large glob of green goo and called out, "Tergeo." The incantation siphoned the liquid from an area of the cabinets and tables to disappear, leaving behind a spotless corner of the dungeon. She turns to another section of the wall that seemed to be splattered with bat spleens and saw to it that the walls were renewed to their clean states in moments.

"It's okay, Skye- there's no need for-" Jemma argued as she flitted about behind her friend, who made quick work of the frog spawn, pufferfish eyes, skin of boomslang, and honey.

As Skye pointed at a puddle of tormentil tincture and clearly pronounced "scourgify", she whirls around to face Jemma, wand pointed at the Potion Mistress' nose. "Okay, spill it, missy! Obviously, this was not an accident. You are hiding something and I want answers now! What is going on, Simmons?"

Jemma's wide eyes crossed, looking down her prim nose to the point of the wand and began to bite at her lower lip. Skye's suspicions about Jemma's odd behavior is only confirmed by the presence of her pearly white teeth gnawing her anxieties; the nervous tick gave her away every time. "It's Ward!" she blurts out. "Oh, Skye, I am in so much trouble!"

"Why?" Skye's worried face quickly turned mischievous with her follow up question, "Did you manage to hex him like you did with that one Ministry guy last summer cuz you don't know how to flirt?"

"I know how to flirt!" Jemma retorts incredulously.

Skye's eyes went wide then. "Did you try to flirt with Ward?"

"Yes. I mean no… I mean kind of- gah! I don't know, it's all so complicated." Jemma deflates and falls into one of the student seats in defeat.

"It's not really that complicated." Skye pressed. "It's either you didn't in which case what are you worrying about? Or you did and was successful, in which case spill!"

Jemma cringed. "How about… I wasn't trying to flirt with him at all but I was helping him with some cuts on his hands during a particularly intense workout session of his and we were talking and we were very close - proximity wise, that is - and I found myself leaning into him and I almost kissed him and I think he was about to kiss me and then I ran away?"

The situation was very clear now.

"So… now you have a joint class session and you don't want to face him because you think you might have made things super awkward?" Skye ventured.

Jemma tilted her head, in a sign of confusion, before shaking it negatively. "Not at all, I'm afraid I might act on my impulses and do something inappropriate in the middle of class."

Skye went completely still before pulling her wand back up again and threatened to use the cleaning spell on Jemma.

Prompt: Fidelius - Melinda May & Maria Hill

Fall arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Doctor Streiten, the school's acting medical adviser, was kept busy by a sudden spare of colds among the staff and students. Though Simmons' Pepperup potion worked wonders, it did leave the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterwards.

Large drops of rain pelted down on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Mack's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Despite the bleak weather, May carried on supervising Quidditch practice as though it were another sunny day. She flew over the pitch with the same ease she had as walking, even breathing, her eyes scanning over the team formations as they ran plays in the downpour.

A flint of gold pulled May's attention away from the swirl of students. At first she assumed it was a stray snitch that got loose when they were letting the bludgers out but upon closer focus, she sees that it's actually something moving on the edge of the forbidden forest.

May called out to one of the older kids to stand guard as she went to take a quick look as to what was lurking in the trees, this far out from the thick of the woods. Landing just inside the edge of the treeline, May dismounted her broom and pulled out her wand before calling out into forest of damp trees, "I'll have you know, whether you are foe or beast, I will not go down without a fight."

"Jeez, May, is that how you greet all your colleagues?" Hill said as she stepped out from behind the thick coniferous. "All I wanted was a heart to heart."

"There are more direct ways to talk to someone, like say, waving them down from the stands to talk or perhaps waiting until we're inside the castle where it's not raining." May suggested.

Hill shrugged, "This conversation requires a level of discretion that the castle never provides." the other woman could hardly argue with that.

"Well, you got your discretion. What is it? And when did you and Phil get back from the ministry?"

"A couple of hours ago," Hill replied digging her boot into the muddy ground, something May recognized as an anxious tick.

"What's wrong?" May prompted. "And, don't tell me it's nothing."

Hill hesitates for a moment before stealing herself and meets May's eyes. "Before I tell you anything, you must agree to be a Secret Keeper."

May rolled her eyes, "Damnit, if this is about Phil's birthday surprise, I swear, Maria-"

"I'm being serious," Hill insisted, "It's about Phil's… condition."

This gave her pause; May had no idea that Phil was ill. She knew about the mission he took with the British Aurors that got him severely injured, hell, the official report said he had died on the operating table but they were able to revive him in time. Hearing that he might be seriously ill did not bode well for her. "Is he…"

Hill jumped in before she could even form the words that were weighing her heart down, "Do you agree to be a Secret Keeper, Melinda?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

Hill pulls out her wand and casts the Fidelius Charm just over May's chest. The area glowed in a soft golden light and Hill began to divulge her secret, "Phil Coulson… wasn't dead for a couple of minutes or hours; he was dead for days. But since Fury wouldn't allow him to stay dead, he ordered Doctor Jay Streiten and a team of witches and wizards at St. Mungo's to perform a forbidden spell that required the administration of a certain illegal potion to bring Phil back from the dead. The transcript of the procedure is in my office."

May was stunned stupid. "Why are you telling me this?"

Hill pulled back her wand and tucked it away back in her robe as she spoke with a heavy heart. "When we were at the ministry, Phil started asking around for his files during the procedure, saying he's been having trouble sleeping and was hoping to have Streiten take a look at his files before he diagnosed him with anything." Maria sighed, "Of course Phil doesn't know that Streiten already knows what kind of condition his body can take because he was there during the procedure."

She stepped forward and clasped her hand over May's shoulder. "I've tried to be a friend to Phil but he's been closed off. He sees me as a colleague rather than a confidante; I can't ask him the really serious stuff. But you can.

"I need you to keep an eye on Phil for me and Fury. Let me know if he displays any strange behavior or begins experiencing any strange effects of the potion. I wish I knew why it took over 3 years for this experimental procedure to trigger any side-effects now but I suppose that's what we get for stepping into the realm of the gods."

May is left speechless and takes a moment to mull the information that had just been divulged to her. "After all this time, he still doesn't know?" May asked.

Hill stares at the hand on May's shoulder before drawing it back with a heavy heart. "He can never know. It'll hurt him less this way."

"I don't see how secrets could ever not hurt someone…"

Hill sighs and May can see how much this was weigh down on Maria too. She works so closely with Phil that this must have been weighing her down for years now.

In the end, Hill pulls out something from her pocket and tosses it to May. She catches it easily and opens her palm to see the golden snitch roll around in the middle of her palm. "This is for best," Hill insists, "you understand that, don't you, May?"

She hated keeping secrets from Phil; he was one of the few people she trusted and even the thought of keeping something this big felt morally wrong. Yet, as though the information itself was a sentient being, she felt it stir in her soul at the thought of telling anyone this secret.

May will be carrying this vow to her grave.

Firm in her resolve, May nodded her head once. "I understand."

Prompt: Tarantallegra - Lance Hunter

"Tell me again why I agreed to do this?" Idaho asked, as he swatted and scratched at the side of his neck where the hanging leaves from the vines above their heads brushed against his skin.

"I told you, it's to get back at Simmons for the itching jinx she set on me during the staff meeting." Hunter explained again, his displeasure at the scene in front of him only fueled his ire.

"What does that have to do with me? I wasn't even there?" he argued.

"Moral support, mate. You signed up for it when you agreed to get beer with me four years ago." Hunter whispered back.

"The beer wasn't even that good." Idaho mumbled as he pulled out his wand from his robes.

"So what did Bobbi do to you that warrants a dancing feet spell?"

"Existing." Hunter rumbled.

"Right. So.. why am I here, then?"

Hunter rolled his eyes, "Because, Fitz, you're better at charms than all of us and this spell requires a delicatetouch." He lowers his voice when he sees Simmons look towards them over her shoulder before turning back to Bobbi and her tea and tiny sandwiches. "We only got one shot at getting this right. And, besides, we have to use your wand."

"Why? Where is your wand? Why do we have to use mine?" Fitz demanded.

"It's the whole master and wand thing - will you stop asking questions, now?" Hunter muttered as he tried to maneuver the plants of the green house so that Idaho and Fitz would have a clear shot of Bobbi and Jemma whilst still obscuring their presence. "Ready, boys?"

Fitz made a sounds as though he's going to be sick but nodded along side Idaho, who didn't look to be in much better a state.

"Now!" Hunter murmured.

"Now?" Fitz asked but it was too late. His wand bumped into Idaho's and the spell shot into the vines in front of them. In seconds, the foliage came to life, thrashing around in a mamba fashion. The long tendrils and leaves whipped about, haphazardly hitting the three wizards left and yelped in pain and scurried out of the greenhouse, cursing up a storm. Hunter vowed the next time he gets Simmons alone, she will pay for each and every welt on his skin!

x

Jemma was so grateful to Mack for lending the greenhouse to her and Bobbi so that they could enjoy their afternoon tea under the sun. In a startling turn of events, the rain had finally let up and the droplets that glistened on the glass under the warm stream of sunshine made for a lovely backdrop for their weekend bonding time.

They were half way through their meal when Jemma heard whispers and scuttling coming from behind the large table of plants. "What was that?"

"Oh it's just Hunter, Idaho, and Fitz. I think they're trying to get the drop on us." Bobbi said easily, taking a sip of her tea.

"Oh. Did they want to join us? There's plenty of sandwiches left." Jemma mused.

Bobbi chuckled at the Potions Mistress and shook her head lightly, "I think they're here to crash the party, not join it."

"Oh," Jemma's eyebrows furrowed, "should I be worried?"

"No," Bobbi assured her lightly, picking up a biscuit from the tray and studying it before saying, "these things have a way of working themselves out."

Moments later, hisses and yelps came from behind the large wooden table and faded down the corridor away from the greenhouse and the tray of biscuits.