Chapter 4

"Every day in every way we are leaving our mark." - Rachel Birmingham

The constant thinking and overthinking was going to be the death of her. Bex flitted from one pointless activity to the next – such as fluffing the sofa cushions when she knew full well she wouldn't even be occupying this apartment for the next few months, at least.

It was late August, and only one week until the start of the new school term at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had extended an early invitation to Bex so that she would have time to familiarize herself with the castle and its grounds before the Hospital Wing was inundated with eleven-year-olds. She was therefore packed, with her trunk waiting in the living room, kitchen emptied of all perishables, home prepped for long departure, and the only thing staying her feet was the knotted ball lodged in her stomach. Just a couple days prior, Bex had been excited (thrilled, even) to leave America.

And then the Dark Mark appeared in the sky above the Quidditch World Cup campgrounds.

Bex's shoulders tensed, recalling her aunt's words about "dark forces" assembling in wizarding Britain, and perhaps, elsewhere around the globe. The young Healer was terrified to think of what Septima could be alluding to, but tried to not let fear override rationality and the reality of here and now. She'd anticipated a certain degree of danger, with Europe seeming to be at the epicenter of a lot of discriminatory practices, but this – a symbol of hate and prejudice flying over an international wizarding sporting event – was almost too much.

Almost.

As a pureblood witch raised on the principles of a school like Mahoutokoro, Bex spent most all of her formative years far removed from European blood politics. With the addition of her abilities making it difficult to focus on anything outside of her own piling traumas. However, since the recent Death Eater sightings in Devon, she'd had to check some of her privilege – chickening out and not showing up when she'd already accepted the role was not in the cards for more reasons than one. She would go. Anxious as she was about what lay ahead, Bex would go and show up for the students who needed her.

She smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle in her white summer robes before grasping the leather handle of her trunk. For one last time, Bex's eyes scanned her apartment – taking in her wall-mounted CD collection, the hanging houseplants she'd placed on a stasis charm, and the kitchen bar where she and Rowan would often share a cheese tray during game nights. She didn't understand this heavy feeling in her stomach; she would be returning for the holidays, so it wasn't like this was goodbye forever. With a sigh, she turned and Apparated on the spot.

RK + SS

The first thing that struck Bex when she landed after the dizzying spiral of Apparition was the bitter cold – in August! – and she immediately regretted her choice in clothing. She deftly cast a warming charm and was instantly soothed. In spite of the cold, Hogsmeade was as picturesque as it appeared in all the photos. The atmosphere was calm – still, in a way that metro Chicago was not. Birds chirped occasionally, almost in tune with the click of Bex's heel as she walked the cobblestone path. It was the middle of the week, so most storefronts were only just now opening, even as the sun stretched the length of the sky; everything was bathed in soft yellow. Passing the Three Broomsticks, levitated trunk in tow, Bex smiled at the cheerful signage; it made her think of slightly milder autumn weather with mulled mead and pumpkin spice. She planned to meet her aunt here later to catch up.

The road leading to the front gates of the school was short and wide. In the distance, just beyond the wrought iron bars that loomed before her, Bex could see a tall, bespectacled woman in elegant – winter! – robes waiting to welcome her. Not wanting to appear rude, she quickened her pace from a leisurely stroll. Her trunk now thudded lightly on the ground behind her, saturating the quiet morning with more noise and causing some of the shopkeepers to peer out their windows at the new arrival.

As she approached, the front gates shuddered and opened inward. On either side of the towering bars sat winged boards that straightened their wings the closer Bex came. They distinctly reminded her of the gargoyle statues at Erinlẹ's. Crossing the threshold, cobblestone gave way to gravel. The gates gave a groan and shut behind her, the boars resuming their protective stance.

Bex grinned in a sudden rush of eagerness when it finally dawned on her who'd been sent to greet her.

"You must be Professor McGonagall?" she said, a twinge of hope affecting her tone. She watched – and almost fainted – as the older witch tilted her pointed hat in acknowledgment.

McGonagall gave the young woman a clear once-over, and then smiled in response when she apparently found what she was searching for.

"Minerva, dear, when there are no students present," she said, in a thick Scottish accent.

Excitement shot through Bex, and she extended her hand, which Minerva grasped firmly. "Healer Rebecca Kakudō, or Bex… when no students are present."

"I won't say it's lovely to meet you," said Minerva with a sniff, catching Bex entirely by surprise, "because frankly, it isn't lovely, and I wish I wasn't meeting you under these circumstances. But, in spite of the… in spite of what happened.. we are all still very happy and grateful to receive you at Hogwarts, Bex."

There was an unspoken You cannot fail us in her words that left Bex winded. The older woman released her hand and gestured to begin following her to the castle.

Bex grappled for words, worried she might accidentally say the wrong thing in reply. She almost tripped, but schooled her feet and her face, which probably looked similar to a fish floundering out of water. The staff – the world – was still grieving the loss of someone very important. Everyone, at Hogwarts especially, would require a bit of grace.

"I appreciate you being candid," said Bex carefully, with an understanding nod. "I'm happy to be here as well, despite what's happened. I realize I have impossible shoes to fill." She gazed at the gigantic Quidditch pitch that came into view.

Minerva followed her line of sight and smiled. "We're all dreadfully curious about you, too, of course. Excluding all the shite surrounding the professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, it's been years since a long-term role was filled. A little over a decade, I believe."

Bex almost ugly-laughed at the absurdity of it all. Here was her idol – Hatstall Minnie, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, and overall badass Transfiguration Mistress – chatting it up with her casually and actually swearing while she did so.

"Who was the last?" asked Bex, shaking some of her starstruck awe.

Minerva chuckled. "Oh, you'll get to meet him very soon. But please – won't you satisfy an old witch's curiosity and tell me a bit about yourself? I hear you're to complete your residency between here at Hogwarts and Erinlẹ's – is this true?"

"Yes," Bex grinned, sidestepping a large stone. "I'm second-year, specializing in elemental healing and bodywork. I wouldn't say that every element is my strong suit, but I do feel strong attractions to water and earth."

"Oh, I see," Minerva replied ardently; elemental magic was another branch of Transfiguration, one she'd yet to fully explore with all of her time spent teaching. "Quite impressive, Bex! Could you share more about the methods you use to apply elemental magic to healing? I know that much of traditional mediwizardry utilizes potions, so how do you circumvent this in your practice?"

And from there, Bex launched into a winded, intellectual discourse about her chosen vocation. She explained her approach to medicine, emphasizing the importance of supplementing elemental healing with conventional spells and potions. Minerva's eyes seemed to brighten with each crumb of knowledge that was passed onto her by her new colleague. No time seemed to pass at all in the roughly twenty minutes it took to walk from the front gates to the enormous oak doors that served as the main entrance to the school. The doors opened of their own accord as the two stepped nearer, and Bex paused mid-conversation to take in the ancient Entrance Hall and wide marble staircase.

Smiling at her wonder, Minerva said, "I presume you Floo'd directly into the headmaster's office the last time you came to Hogwarts?"

Bex nodded, letting her eyes travel over moving portraits and the empty House Point hourglasses stationed on either side of the Grand Staircase.

"I did," she said softly. "Professor Dumbledore was awfully busy, so I didn't get the full tour."

Minerva pressed her lips together in response, pausing in her stride. "Yes, he has indeed been dreadfully busy the past few weeks plotting with Ludo Bagman."

"Ludo Bagman?" The name wasn't ringing any bells.

Minerva visibly faltered, and appraised the young Healer. She indicated Bex continue following her up the stairs with a wave of her hand. "Of course he hasn't told you, the sneaky bastard. Ludovic Bagman, a Ministry employee. The word is… well, there's talk that the Triwizarding Tournament is making a return, with the headmaster offering Hogwarts up as the hosting school."

This time, Bex was the one to almost stop in her tracks. If her thoughts and emotions weren't being so deliberately suppressed by Occlumency, the shock might have dropped her jaw.

"I'm sorry – the Triwizarding Tournament? The same tournament that was outlawed for multiple student casualties?"

"The very same." She was looking sideways, to gauge Bex's reaction. Looking to see if, perhaps now, the role would be too much for her to step into.

But Bex simply straightened her shoulders and replied, "Undeniably dangerous, and I definitely don't agree with putting children on the line… but I'm still up to task, Minerva."

The professor smirked and nodded once in approval. "Good. Now – let's give you that tour. This is the Entrance Hall, which will lead you to the Great Hall, the dungeons, kitchens, Hufflepuff common room, and just down that corridor there is the way to the Hospital Wing. The Great Hall is where student and staff take most of their meals, and the dungeons house the Potions classroom, in addition to the Slytherin common room."

Bex furrowed her brow, absorbing details about the castle that would be her home for the next year.

"Is there… perhaps.. a map?"

Minerva shook her head slowly. "I'm afraid not, dear. The rooms at Hogwarts do too much moving around for a reliable map to have ever been drawn of the place. Not to worry, though – I'm fairly confident you'll find your way."

Bex pursed her lips thoughtfully, beckoning her trunk closer so that she could physically grab the handle. They'd reached the Hospital Wing; Minerva shouldered one of the doors and held it open for Bex. The Healer strode forward with bated breath, uncertain as to what exactly awaited her.

"Finally. Took you the better half of the morning, Minerva."

Surely she didn't anticipate walking in to see some tall, snarky stranger lounging at the matron's desk at the far end of the wing. The lines of his face were etched in boredom, displaying a deep disinterest even as he stood from the seat soon to be hers. His body was lithe, all of his movements precise like he thought out each action with care. He wore a high-collared charcoal button-up coat, with matching Muggle trousers beneath black robes. His lanky hair, as black as his robes, betrayed this dignified appearance. Ebony eyes pierced her with one look, and it was then that she knew his apparent boredom was insincere.

He was very interested in the events unfolding.

Which, of course, resulted in an equal amount of intrigue to begin festering for the man.

Minerva stepped up next to her. "Bex, our last hire," she introduced; the man's scowl deepened, if possible, considering she looked as though she might cackle.

Bex chuckled nervously, not at all familiar with the dynamic between the two. She fidgeted. Transferring her trunk from one hand to the other, before setting it down at her feet. The man tracked every motion with those endlessly dark eyes, until Minerva sighed exasperatedly.

"This is Professor Severus Snape, our resident Potions Master – you will likely be spending a substantial amount of time together this school year."

Snape nodded in greeting. Just as she'd done with Minerva, Bex extended her hand to shake. He took it immediately, and she silently swallowed her gasp. His hand was thin but large, and oddly cool to the touch. Slender fingers softly caressed her wrist as they shook hands respectfully, black eyes never breaking contact with her own. A friendly smirk suddenly stole across Bex's face.

"Healer Rebecca Kakudō. But – before we continue, I want to be certain I've got it right… Slytherin House Head?"

The only change in his neutral expression was the slightest narrowing of his eyes. His hand dropped away from hers, and Bex found herself missing the coolness of his skin.

"How perceptive," he said wryly, in a heavy baritone. "I don't recognize the surname Kakudō. Where did you study?"

Minerva watched their exchange with a knowing smile. It appeared she too was stifling her amusement with Snape's feigned disinterest.

"I went to University of Mamello on the coast of West Africa, where my mother's family is from. My graduating class was small, and most of us were immediately offered internships at St. Mungo's and Erinlẹ's."

"Certainly someone with Beauxbatons on their academic record couldn't get into somewhere as esteemed as Erinlẹ's Hospital for Enchanted Ailments," interjected Minerva, and she crossed her arms in triumph, staring Snape down.

He sneered, showing a row of crooked teeth that almost made Bex flinch. "I suppose not."

"I'll be taking my taking my thirty sickles now, Severus."

"You will get your money, witch," he growled, to which she scoffed.

Bex was the one to cross her arms now, brows raised in semi-mock astonishment.

"I can't believe you two!" she cried, fighting a grin. "And for the record – I completed my magical education at Mahoutokoro, not Beauxbatons. I hope you're satisfied?"

Snape's eyes seem to spark to life – whether it was for meeting another intellectual, or for the way in which she'd delivered the revelation, she couldn't tell. Bex got the feeling that if he wasn't so certain of himself, he'd say something like "Immensely so" in that silky smooth tone of his. Her lip quirked upward, thinking she'd made another acquaintance, and just like that, the spark in his dark eyes vanished without a trace. Interesting.

"We're more than satisfied, dear," said Minerva. "Without even looking at your CV, I know your academic record is among the best to have ever graced these halls – myself and Severus included, of course."

"I promise to do my best, and I will continue to uphold all the vows I took when I became a mediwitch." She glanced down to her trunk. "Am I able to drop this in my room before the rest of the tour?"

The trademark sneer returned at her mention of the word tour. Minerva cast a tempus charm so they could all see the time. Bex was shocked it was already nearing one o'clock in the afternoon. Where had the time gone?

"Your rooms are right through that door," Minerva said, gesturing to the aforementioned door at the furthest end of the Hospital Wing, tucked behind the desk. "The ground level will serve as your private office. Take the spiral staircase up to the second floor of the Hospital Wing Tower where… you'll be able to change over the wards and passwords and such." Here, she sniffed a little and continued without missing a beat. "On the second floor will be your – your suite, which includes your own private lavatory." She cleared her throat, and removed her glasses to clean with a handkerchief she pulled from her pocket. Bex recognized the action as one of self-soothing; it would be nothing to clean them by magic. It reminded her of how Rowan filed away at his fingernails whenever he was anxious about something.

Minerva went on, "I didn't realize how quickly the time went – I hope you'll excuse me Bex, but I have a meeting with the headmaster and that slippery weasel Ludo Bagman." She turned her eyes to Snape. "Would you please –?"

"No."

A scowl graced Minerva's wrinkled cheeks and she placed her hands on her hips. Uh oh.

"Severus Snape!"

"Do I look like a tour guide?" he barked, and Bex had to agree that he did not, in fact, look like a tour guide. At least, not in this moment.

She decided to step in, as the two quite literally looked on the verge of jinxing each other. And amusing as that might have been to watch, she'd promised not to involve herself in any schoolyard quarrels this year. It was a promise intended for student quarrels… but, she supposed that sentiment was now extended to the staff as well.

"It's alright!" said Bex, throwing up her hands in surrender. "I'm supposed to be meeting my aunt at the Three Broomsticks in a couple of hours anyhow. I'll just get settled in and start familiarizing myself with this side of the castle."

Minerva smiled and clapped her hands. "Marvelous! We shall pick this up after supper tonight in the Great Hall then. Hogwarts is truly a different beast in the evening hours; let's get you used to that before the students arrive!"

Nodding, Bex asked, "Will you be joining us, Professor?"

"I will not."

Each word was clipped, like he had to bite out every syllable. A rush of air left his nostrils, and he amended, "I have more brewing to do for the infirmary's stock. I'll be dropping off a supply of Essence of Dittany and Draught of Peace tomorrow morning – you'll need that for the first-years."

"Thank you, Professor. Both of you." She smiled in gratitude, and while Minerva graciously accepted the thanks, Snape grunted in response before spinning on his heel and brushing by the two witches in a flurry of black robes that made him appear bizarrely like a bat.

Bex gave a startled laugh, taken aback, and called to his stalking form, "Goodbye to you, too! See you at dinner!"

He stopped dead in his tracks but did not turn around to face her. His hand jerked minutely at his side, almost like he meant to wave – or reclaim his wand from his sleeve to hex her, she couldn't quite tell. Then, without saying a word, Snape left the Hospital Wing in jerky movements.

Minerva was shaking her head, an empathetic smile directed towards Bex. "A little rough around the edges, but it's why we love him. Don't hold your breath about the lad joining us for supper – he only does so when he has to. You've made a remarkable first impression though; I think he may actually come around to somewhat liking you this year."

A lot of Bex's earlier anxieties had long since faded away, and this really was the icing on the cauldron cake. Her laughter joined Minerva's whooping, their titters ringing and echoing across the wing until meeting one irritable Potions professor's ears several corridors down.

RK + SS

As a Healer at one of the most renowned wizarding hospitals, there was no shortage of the deceased in Bex's life. She had become used – and almost numb – to the permanence of death in a way that most other witches and wizards had not. And yet, being where Madam Pomfrey had been – sitting where she'd sat, lounging where she'd rested her head, sleeping where she'd slept…

The rooms came already fully furnished, and Bex decided that the first thing to go would be the bed. She made quick work of Transfiguring the simple four-poster king-size to something more modern, with a canopy and storage space for potions and late-night reading. She even changed the bedding from sterile white linen to a large, thick bedspread with endless pillows. When she was done, she still felt very much like she was moving into a stranger's bedroom.

Just needs some Squishmallows and a little getting used to, she thought dismissively, turning her attention to her trunk. Unpacking would be a tedious task, but Bex figured she could get the bulk of it out of the way before meeting Septima in Hogsmeade. With magic on her side, she might even manage to all but finish before dinner in the Great Hall.

A thrum of excitement caused her to smile when she thought about Minerva, and then the Potions professor, Snape. He amused her to no end for some reason, and the idea of potentially seeing him again so soon, despite Minerva's warning that he seemed a bit of a hermit, had Bex hurriedly snatching robes and underwear from the depths of her trunk. She paused, fingertips ghosting over round potions vials secured with a bubble-wrap charm. In an instant, her smile faded, eyes flitting nervously to the door of her bedchambers almost like she expected someone to come in and knock the vials right out of her hands.

Of course, like always, no one came.

Bex shook her head firmly to dislodge the creeping feelings of apathy and melancholy, shoving the vials of Dreamless Sleep none too delicately in the drawer of her nightstand. She wiped sweaty palms on the front of her robes and figured that was enough unpacking for the time being. As she erected her Occlumency walls at the beginning of what was bound to be another painful vision, an additional headache compounded the first. She left her bedchamber with gritted teeth.

The sitting room was inviting and spacious. There was a large hearth – which she set to roaring, as the chill of the castle was already seeping into her bones – surrounded by a small sofa, plush-looking armchair, and a chaise lounge. Later, she would connect this hearth to the fireplaces at both of her properties for ease of access. On the wall opposite the hearth was a window where she had a stunning view of the clock tower, and the grassy hills beyond it. There was no El train, no mass of cars clogging the roads, no yelling or hustle and bustle whatsoever, but Bex still felt the feeling of home growing on her. Almost as though Hogwarts was welcoming her with open arms.

She surrendered to the sheltering embrace with a heavy, soulful sigh.