Disclaimer: I do not own Moriarty the Patriot/Yuukoku no Moriarty or Harry Potter.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has clicked on this story and to the person who followed and favourited, I really appreciate it.
And now, I hope this chapter is an enjoyable read!
Once Upon a Prophecy Vol. I
First Year
Chapter FOUR:
"Slur"
Nighttime overtook the day with the moon glowing its brilliant light in the darkened aerial ocean, its starry companions dutifully twinkling by its side.
This beauty wasn't able to be seen by those who made up Slytherin House. One look outside the common room's windows granted the residents a view of the loch, whose appearance looked more green than blue and where sometimes the giant squid that resided in the Great Lake would meander by periodically.
The fireplace that was up against the wall to the left of the entryway into the room was lit to provide some much needed warmth as the dungeons of Hogwarts were particularly cold, especially when night hours prevailed. It was on a level above the main one and had a table placed in the center with sofas and chairs all around it. Green and deep brown abounded everywhere, making the room look even more dark than it already did given the fact it was settled underground.
More seating areas were in the very center of the room along with bookshelves positioned between and on the other side of the windows that opposed the room's entryway.
To the right upon entering the dungeon one could see an archway that lead into another section of the room. Venturing inside, one could see two pathways that veered off in two directions. Off to the right was where the female dormitories were located while the left held the dormitories for the male students. Each door represented the year, going from left to right, or right to left, as the years went up in succession.
Seated in one of the sofas near the fireplace, the boy watched as a white-feathered quill scrawled words across the once pristine parchment laid upon the surface of the table in front of him. However just as soon as the words appeared they disappeared, vanishing from sight as though they hadn't been there at all. Like they were nothing but an illusion playing tricks on the eyes.
It continued to dutifully accomplish its pre-determined task when it suddenly stopped just as the boy ceased talking. The sound of approaching footsteps had caused him pause for a very special and specific reason.
Setting the quill off to the side, he peered over his shoulder to see the owner of the steps when his unique eyes of scarlet red met the familiar deep emerald green of his older brother.
Dressed in a black house robe that hid his pajamas from view, Albert smiled as he came to stand next to his brother. "Hey, Will. What are you doing up so late?"
William returned the action. "I'm working on something."
Albert's eyes were wide. "You're working on something? At this time of night?"
The older boy snapped his gaze down toward the pocket watch that was left open on the table, seeing that the hour hand was placed at twelve while the minute hand was resting between the hours of five and six. Putting them both together, the time was very well between 12:20 and 12:25 in the morning.
"It's really late."
"I know. But I can't sleep."
"If you don't get much rest tonight, you might fall asleep during class."
William gave a small laugh. "I won't fall asleep, I'm certain of that."
After allowing his previous task to fall away from his focus, the younger boy turned in his seat so he was facing Albert more. "What about you, brother? Why are you awake?"
"It's nothing special, I woke up randomly and I couldn't get back to sleep."
Albert allowed his gaze to flutter down to see what William had been writing, only to find nothing there at all. His brows creased in his confusion. Soon, his eyes veered over to the inkpot nearby and picked it up carefully. Upon inspecting it, a click sounded off in Albert's head.
"This is invisible ink. . ."
Hushed voices filled the air as the boys conversed with each other.
The hands on the pocket watch continued to tick by at a slow but assured pace as time was always a constant and sure thing, never ceasing or stopping even once.
Not for anything, and certainly not for anyone.
It was one more day before the first week of the school year ended.
The students traveled the corridors, ascending and descending the stairs just like all those other days when the first term of school had begun. As soon as her first class was over, Rion glanced over her schedule to see what her second one was going to be. Stealing a glance over toward William, who was walking beside her down a flight of stairs, she posed a question about his own schedule.
He smiled and told her what it was without having to glance one time at the aforementioned object. In response to hearing that William's next class was also shared by her and her housemates, Rion beamed and she quickly made her way to her next class with an added pep in her step.
Upon entering the classroom, the children were met with the visual of a somewhat familiar man standing near his desk. His eyes, which were the same colour and shade as Rion's, were transfixed on something settled in his hands. Hair the colour of black ink was messy, giving the allusion that he hadn't bothered to brush the strands before arriving to teach his class.
The man was dressed in a different way from his fellow faculty members. While the other professors wore robes as they taught their classes, he chose to wear a button-down shirt and black trousers. Hanging from the slightly open collar of his shirt was a pair of glasses, and they appeared to be the type for reading instead of for actual seeing.
For those who had been paying attention during their first day when introductions had been made by the staff of the school, the name of the man before them rang loud and clear in their minds. Especially for Rion who knew of this man but didn't actually know him.
She was as still as a statue as her eyes locked onto the man intensely.
It was a really weird coincidence, truly it was.
The fact that she not only had one family member working as a professor for the prestigious school known as Hogwarts but two really felt like some kind of higher power was setting something up without her prior knowledge.
Rion stood between William and Amity as they and all of the other first-years of Gryffindor and Slytherin remained silently staring at their new professor.
As though he was done looking over whatever he held in his hands, the man glanced up as he felt the multitude of eyes of his precious students staring at him with varying expressions on their faces.
He smiled, his voice holding a tinge of a distinct accent. "Well, hello, everyone. Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts class. For those of you who may have forgotten, my name is Killian Thorne. It's nice to finally make your acquaintance."
The man implored all of them to take their seats while he got started on the topics he would be informing and teaching them about this day.
Light streamed in through the large window situated behind Killian's desk. Said desk was filled with different objects that ranged from small, insignificant-looking doohickeys to tools that appeared purposeful for this particular lesson. A chalkboard was placed off to the side with random doodles drawn on different sections while the center was left void of anything.
Rion sat in the middle near the back with Amity sitting on her left and William to her right just like in their first Charms class. As this particular lesson of DADA was teaching both Gryffindor and Slytherin students, Lionel was sitting at his own desk with Gabrielle and Quintin at the ones on either side of him.
Amity chose to ignore that fact as their DADA professor began the lesson.
"So, today we'll be learning about something that should be relatively familiar to all of you no matter your background."
As he spoke, Killian grabbed a piece of white chalk and was writing down the exact pieces of information he'd be informing his students of. When he was done, the professor knocked two of his knuckles against the board as if to garner the children's attention.
There was one specific word that he was highlighting with his hand placed underneath it in such a way that it looked like he was actually holding it.
And that word was—"Ghosts."
After putting the chalk back, Killian elaborated with: "Now, ghosts are an interesting non-being to read about especially when researching them not only from a wizard point-of-view but also a Muggle's. Ghosts are different from poltergeists which we will also be discussing really quick before we move on to some useful charms. Back to the former: for those of you who grew up in Muggle households, a ghost is someone who refused to move on, cross over if you will, and remains in our realm of existence, and that is the same in our world as well.
"The reason for their staying back is unique to the ghost. Some prefer to stay behind to watch over loved ones that haven't yet died while others have some sort of unfinished business they feel they must contend with. Unfortunately, some of them come to regret staying in our realm instead of being free on the other side. Ghosts are not typically malevolent or aggressive, instead they can be helpful guides if someone is in need of such a thing."
Killian lifted up an index finger as though to silently motion for the students to remain quiet. The children did so and the DADA professor went on to write more along the chalkboard. Underneath the word 'ghosts' he accompanied it with many descriptors that detailed what the former was about.
Rion quickly grabbed her quill, setting the base between her index and thumb and began to write down the words that Killian was providing. Her head would constantly bob up and down as if she was doing multiple double takes.
Stopping in his writing, the man continued on: "If you come across a ghost, which, in all honesty, you should've already given the fact Hogwarts has a strong gravitational pool for ghosts, just know that they won't harm you. And really they can't as they're incorporeal. And now, on to poltergeists."
A hand was raised, startling Killian as he wasn't expecting such an action yet.
He smiled regardless. "Yes, Drake?"
"Professor Thorne poltergeists are the ones that aren't the friendliest of sort, right?"
Killian was surprised. "Yes, that's right. Wonderful job, Drake, in doing your studies beforehand. Ten points to Slytherin."
Amity frowned as she stared at Lionel with a withering glare. In a low voice, she said, "Teacher's pet."
As if he could hear her all the way on the other side of the room, Lionel glanced over to lock lavender with gold. They exchanged glares before breaking eye contact so Killian wouldn't see the interaction.
The man in question proceeded the lesson. "As was noted by Drake, poltergeists are the opposite of ghosts: chaotic and inept as guides. Another reason why poltergeists are different from ghosts is because the former came into existence not because their corporeal body perished, but because they are manifestations of chaos. We have them here at Hogwarts thanks to the bustling activity throughout the castle every year.
"Trust me when I say that you don't want anything to do with a poltergeist. They'll refuse to help you, only doing so if they garner some kind of entertainment from it, and even then they'll mock you for needing it. In short: poltergeists are mischief-making, unhelpful and annoying non-beings."
Multiple scratches upon parchment filled the air.
Killian moved away from the chalkboard, his eyes shifting from one student to the next. His gaze seemed to evaluate them, settling on some longer than others. While it appeared as though the children were oblivious to his stares, not all of them were incognizant of the pricks that stabbed the crowns of their heads.
Once they were finished with their information collecting, the DADA professor walked over to his desk where a bunch of objects were situated with one very important among them. Namely, Killian's wand. Grasping it with his fingers, he pointed the tip of it at his students in a non-threatening way.
"Is everyone now ready to learn some charms? These ones in particular are mostly for calling for help and getting out of a situation with stealth. I implore all of you to pay close attention to these as they could save your lives one day."
Striding from his desk and toward the door that lead in and out of the classroom, Killian then said, "Please follow me and I'll take you to another classroom that will be better suited to practicing the charms I'll be teaching."
Grabbing their own wands from the surface of their desks, the children huddled in a large group as they followed their professor into the corridor.
While heading to her other class, with William venturing on his way as his next class was being shared with the Ravenclaws that period and Serenity got caught up conversing with another student causing her sisters to stay behind to make sure the middle one actually made it to her class, Rion ran into Roy and Mark who ended up walking down the other side of the corridor as they made their way to their own class.
With a wide grin, Mark waved as he greeted her. "Rion! How convenient! On your way to your other class, are you?"
"Yep!" Rion nodded her head, happy to see the fifth-year duo that had become as irreplaceable as her family and friends. "You two, as well?"
"That's right," said Roy. "We have Muggle Studies next."
"It's a third year elective course," supplied Mark upon seeing the curious tilt of Rion's head.
"Oh. . ."
Mark beamed, resting his arm over one of Roy's shoulders. Said prefect looked disgruntled at the action. "Hey, Rion, since we caught you, I have a question. I hope you don't mind my asking."
Rion shook her head. "I don't mind."
"I haven't said what it is yet but, since you already gave the go ahead, I'll ask." Mark took a deep breath in and then exhaled. "Are you close with the second Moriarty, Rion?"
Said girl was baffled by this question. "Am I close with him? You mean Will, right?"
Upon seeing the boy's nod, she said, "I'd like to think so. I don't know how he feels about me, but I think of him as a friend."
The boys were quiet. They exchanged a look in their silence, blue meeting brown. When both Roy and Mark glanced back to Rion, it was the former who spoke this time.
"We can't exactly tell you what to do, Rion. However, I'm sure Mark and I are both on the same page with the fact that we'd like to caution you when it comes to getting closer with a Moriarty."
Rion was confused once more. "What do you mean?"
"The Moriartys aren't necessarily known for their. . . congenial attitudes," said Mark. "Even with other pure-bloods they tended to be holier-than-thou, if you will."
"Exactly," said Roy. "The Moriartys, no matter what time period or era, weren't the friendliest of people in any sense of the word. And the fact that they managed to keep their bloodline pure all these years is a testament to their constant espousing of the ideology that pure-bloods are beyond the other two blood statuses."
"Though, the first son has shown a different attitude from his parents when they were at Hogwarts. Purportedly, at least."
"The first son has, but whether it's real or not is the true concern. As you noted, purportedly is the keyword here."
The conversation, which had originally started as a warning to the Gryffindor girl, evolved into a two-way exchange between the fifth-years. Rion remained silent, contemplating their words before coming to her own conclusion.
Suddenly, she blurted, "Thank you."
Roy and Mark stopped abruptly, their eyes wide as they shifted their gazes over to her.
She smiled. "Thanks for the warning, but I think Will and Al aren't like their parents at all. I have a hunch they're nicer and don't see pure-bloods as better than everyone else."
The boys blinked multiple times, taken aback by the confidence that laced every word she said.
After exchanging another look, Mark brandished his signature grin at her. "Well, Roy and I wanted to give you a word of caution just in case. But, since you seem very confident about your hunch, then we'll go on ahead to our class."
As they bid each other goodbye and began to walk to their separate destinations, Mark decided to leave the first-year with these words: "Good luck, Rion. I hope for your sake that you're right about your hunch."
The first Saturday of first term felt as though it took a skip and a jump to arrive.
With classes nowhere in sight, it was a much happier time for the students as they were a lot more willing to get up and out of their beds. After everyone chose to don their civilian clothing instead of their school uniforms, they all once more made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.
When everyone was finished, they meandered out of the room and into the corridors to go about doing whatever they had wanted that day. Among the group was Amity and her sisters who were engaging in idle conversation.
Amity walked slow, one half of a flatbread muffin in her hand. She would periodically take small bites since she wanted to be ready if her sisters ever needed to talk to her.
To Amity's right was Serenity whose eyes of melted gold looked from the eldest sister to the youngest one. "Should we go to the library? I heard from one of the other girls in our house that there's a pretty interesting book to read in there."
"Isn't there a lot of those, though?" asked Verity. "The library here at Hogwarts is full of old and mysterious tomes. Which one did she talk about?"
"Something about a secret garden or whatever? Apparently it can send the reader into a garden that's filled with lots of wonders and dangers."
Just as Verity opened her mouth to say something, a multi-coloured blur passed in front of the trio. They paused abruptly, eyes wide. Amity choked a bit on the small piece of flatbread muffin that she had just taken. Upon further staring, the girls recognized just who the blur in question was.
With a sense of purpose in her steps, Rion barreled down the corridor while spewing out apology after apology whenever she accidentally bumped into any of the other students that were also crowding the halls on their day off.
After exchanging a look of curiosity, on the parts of Serenity and Verity, and suspicion, on the part of Amity, the sisters hurriedly followed the same path that Rion had gone down. They saw her cut a corner which caused her to promptly disappear from view. A loud and almost dramatic sound of impact then escaped the blonde.
Upon turning the corner as well, Amity and her sisters saw why Rion had let out such a noise.
Dressed in civilian clothes that consisted of a sleeveless sweater over a button-down shirt with trousers and a pair of Oxfords, William stood with a concerned expression on his face as twin scarlet settled on Rion's figure.
Her eyes were closed which had been the other result of bumping into William purely by accident. When she opened them, the blonde Gryffindor was happily surprised to see that he had been the one she collided into.
Rion beamed as bright as the sun. "Will! Good morning! I'm sorry for bumping into you."
"It's all right," William said. "Are you okay? The sound you made didn't seem like you weren't hurt."
"Oh, I'm fine, it didn't hurt at all. Thanks for asking."
Looking over her shoulder, he met the eyes of the Quinnell sisters.
The shine that each golden yellow pair held was different from the other.
Amity's eyes held their typical detached politeness whenever they looked at him while Serenity's eyes twinkled with interest in a similar fashion to how Rion's eyes most often did and Verity's had a shine of recognition in them.
Within a moment, the middle sister surged forward while leaning over one of Amity's shoulders. The older sister's eyes widened at the extra weight, and she had to clamp her fingers down around her flatbread muffin so she didn't end up losing it on the floor.
"Morning, William!" greeted Serenity, smile wide. "Nice to see you again! Funny running into you here."
"Serenity, get off," said Amity while slightly nudging said girl off her shoulder.
Serenity was kind enough to do as instructed, sending her older sister the same smile she sent William. The two exchanged words back and forth until Amity caught the middle triplet's attention.
When he and Verity made eye contact, she offered a kind smile and wave.
William greeted the youngest Quinnell in kind.
After settling his attention back on the one who accidentally bumped into him, he posed a question to her to which she answered that she was about to explore more of the castle. Particularly the one room that she was told not to go near again.
As William volunteered to join her, Amity and her sisters also piped up that they would accompany the duo to wherever Rion was going.
After passing by another group of students, the quintet made their way up the flights of stairs that the blonde Gryffindor had traversed on Wednesday. When they got to the top, there weren't any other people. At least not until one of the many doors lining the walls opened to reveal the figure of a familiar person.
The children were surprised, watching as he closed the door behind him.
When he turned his head, deep emerald conveyed the boy's own surprise by seeing the group standing near the landing of the stairs. He approached them, the action being met with various reactions.
Rion lifted one of her arms into the air to wave her hand from side to side. "Hey, Al!"
"Hello, brother," said William.
Amity remained silent but inclined her head in the same manner she did upon making eye contact with the younger Slytherin earlier.
Serenity mimicked Rion, beaming as she waved a hand in greeting.
Verity gave a smile of her own as she nodded.
Stopping in front of them, Albert offered a smile as well. "William, what are you doing here?"
"Rion wanted to check out a room she found during break one day, and I decided to come along with her."
"And the Quinnells are here too, I see."
"Yep," said Serenity, proffering her hand to the older boy. "It's nice to meet you, Moriarty. I'm Serenity."
They shook hands and Verity introduced herself to Albert as well, the air amiable in essence. Amity watched the exchange silently. She didn't need to give her name since Albert was already aware of it.
Once the introductions were done, William posed the same question to Albert that the latter had to the former. When the older boy opened his mouth to reply, a presence made itself known by slinging an arm over Albert's shoulders. Said fourth-year was startled by this, shifting his eyes of freshly polished emerald over to the owner of the arm.
"Now, that's a secret," the figure said. "Can't go around telling just anyone about what we talked about."
Instantly, Amity's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She slid closer to Rion's side as an added form of protection.
A smirk was plastered on his face as his eyes, which were a red-brown colour, went from one first-year to the other in turn. Recognizing Albert's younger brother, the older boy greeted William with a friendly disposition.
"Younger Moriarty, a pleasant surprise to see you here," the smirk never left. "Out for a stroll?"
Despite the words sounding as normal as can be, the tone that permeated the Slytherin's voice was still able to be detected. It was a haughty one, one that wasn't at all indiscernible given how the first-years were used to hearing such a tone in the short span of time they'd been at the school.
William returned the smile, although the action held another that was carefully hidden underneath. "You could say that. I'm accompanying an acquaintance of mine."
"Oh, yeah?" the other Slytherin said, curious. "If that's so, I guess I should introduce myself. Elijah Noriver, fifth year student and the captain of Slytherin House's Quidditch team. Nice to meet you."
Noriver offered his last words to the girls who stared at him with various yet equally apprehensive expressions.
There wasn't any need for any one of the girls to introduce themselves as Noriver remembered very clearly who they were. And what house they had been sorted into. The fifth-year made it his duty to recall each person's face and name if they were ever sorted into the other houses.
After all, whoever they were could become a formidable foe when it came to Quidditch. Unlike some of the other Slytherins in his house, Noriver didn't underestimate his opponents when it came to his favourite sport. He was determined to win—leaving himself open to surprises on the pitch wasn't the mark of an exceptional captain.
However, the fact that Albert's younger brother was currently meandering around with those of their rival house set Noriver's nerves on end.
With a questionable smile, Noriver said, "Quidditch trials are coming up soon in about one more week. Following after that, in November, the very first match of the school year will be taking place."
He looked over at Albert who met his eyes out of the corner of his own. "I heard we'll be playing against those on Gryffindor's team. Kicking off the season with a match between the rival houses is definitely on purpose on the end of the professors."
"And," he began, shifting his gaze to Rion. "I also heard that those descended from the Thorne family are excellent fliers. Ever been on a broom before, Winters?"
Even though Noriver sounded congenial enough, there was still something underneath that that immediately caused Amity to tense up as if readying for an upcoming fight.
Rion's eyes were wide. "How did you know my name, Noriver?"
"I heard it during the Sorting Ceremony—just like everyone else."
After multiple blinks, the girl's realization upon hearing these words could visibly be seen on her face as it sunk in. "Oh, yeah! My name was called at that time. I'm silly."
She bumped the side of her head lightly with a fist as if to reprimand herself and her sometimes forgetful memory.
"For your question," she said, thoughtful, "I have."
"Really? Well, I'm sure you're just like your ancestors. I heard your father was an exceptional flier and, in fact, he was even on his house's Quidditch team. He gave a lot of wins to Slytherin throughout his time as Chaser."
Rion smiled, happy at the praise given to her father's past accomplishments. "That's kind of you to say, Noriver."
"Well, I was only telling the truth."
"Regardless, you didn't have to. So, thank you."
It was silent for a moment.
Then Noriver spoke once more, "Well, it's time to head to Quidditch practice. Come on, Moriarty."
As Noriver made his way past the first-years, Albert watched the fifth-year before turning his attention to his brother. The duo exchanged smiles and then the fourth-year walked on, following after Noriver who stopped walking for the younger boy to catch up.
Once the other Slytherins were gone, Rion immediately remembered her intention for coming back to this particular corridor. Without much said, she ventured forward to find the door that would lead her to what she sought in this moment.
William and Amity followed after her quickly with Serenity and Verity at the former duo's heels. It didn't take long for Rion to find what she was looking for, slowly and methodically opening the door to peek in through the crack.
It was the same as before: dusty, old and abandoned.
The instruments she had seen Wednesday were still in there and in the same place as they were when she first took a look inside. After stealing a couple glances around the corridor, Rion slipped in while leaving the door open for her companions to come in as well.
No hesitation lined her steps as she approached the large stringed instrument that was settled near a corner of the room. It wasn't the same, but it would have to suffice as a substitute for her beloved that was currently waiting for her return back at the Winters estate.
With a fond caress, Rion trailed the tips of her fingers across the sleek, black surface of the grand piano. When she pulled them away, she observed how dusty her fingertips now were. She proceeded to wipe them off on her shirt, bright emeralds staring intently at the object.
Over by the other instruments, Serenity looked them over while picking them up from the floor. "There's so many instruments in here."
"It was definitely a music room," said Amity, her eyes of melted gold gazing at what looked to be an oboe. "But, why was it left to rot like this?"
"Maybe because music wasn't that important of a subject back then?" asked Verity as she examined a harmonica.
"I guess it still isn't. . ."
These words went in one ear and out the other as Rion continued to be entranced by the piano. She heard the approach of footsteps and reluctantly looked away to then lock eyes on the approaching figure.
William came to stand next to her, his eyes also looking over the instrument as if to appraise it.
Glancing back to the piano, Rion said, "My dad loved the piano."
The boy remained silent, choosing to listen to whatever the girl decided to tell him.
The Gryffindor continued with: "There wasn't a day that he wasn't playing it. I remember waking up every morning to the music he would play."
Slowly, Rion pressed down on one of the keys that was centered on the right side. A soft, gentle sound quietly rose up and into the air. It permeated the atmosphere as though it was calling out to someone. Someone that was far away from where the children currently were.
A sad yet fond smile stretched the corners of her mouth up. "Whenever I went into the ballroom, my dad would smile and immediately have me sit next to him. He taught me all sorts of scores. My mum would sometimes perform duets with him and I would sit and listen."
"Magnus, what score are you planning on performing today?"
Rion straightened up once she heard these words. The action startled William who wasn't expecting her to act like that when she whirled her head around, eyes now staring at the corner behind the pair.
An image that looked like an old sepia photograph appeared before her, a man and a woman seated together on the stool in front of another grand piano. The girl instantly recognized it as one of her father's prized possessions, the very piano that Rion remembered sitting at herself when Magnus played either for her to watch or to teach her the ways of the beautiful instrument.
The man had black hair that was styled neatly and was donned in a casual yet formal dress: a white button shirt underneath a sleeveless sweater and trousers while his feet were covered with a simple pair of slippers.
The woman's long, light blonde hair was situated in a French braid that rested over one of her shoulders with the end reaching her lap. Her body was dressed in a plain white shirt that had no sleeves with its hem tucked into the waistband of a brown skirt that fell to her ankles while her feet were clad in socks.
The Slytherin followed her line of sight but saw nothing.
Magnus sat with his back straight, hands already positioned perfectly on the keys as his vivid green irises were centered on his wife. He smiled, charming and meaningful. "Maybe a duet? After all, you're here with me. Might as well make the most of it."
Constance looked baffled, the same emotion ringing through the tone of her voice. "You talk as if I'm hardly around."
"Which is true," the man's smile never left. "Whenever you're not by my side, it feels like you're never around."
Silence became the predominant sound while Constance's face shifted from its natural pale colour to a deep red, signifying her embarrassment at her husband's logic.
Despite the heat that permeated her face, the woman was able to keep her voice neutral as she said, "All right, since you claim I'm typically absent, I'll do a duet with you."
Constance then looked over her shoulder, her sky blues colliding with another pair of vivid green. "Is there anything you'd like to hear in particular, poppet?"
Sitting not too far from the piano, a younger Rion hugged her cat plushie close to her chest as her eyes veered upward to look at the ceiling while she allowed herself to fall deep in thought.
She smiled and said, "What about the song that Dad said is yours and his, Mum?"
"You mean that one," said Constance. She looked at her husband. "What do you think, honey?"
Magnus glanced from his wife to his daughter and back again. The man mirrored younger Rion's smile. "I think that's an excellent choice. Our princess makes the best decisions. Don't you, princess?"
Rion laughed. "If you think it's good."
"Of course it's good, after all, you chose it."
After this was said, Magnus was the first to start tickling the ivories. Constance soon joined in, the sounds of a very familiar and nostalgic tune fluttering to Rion's ears.
She continued to watch as the memory played out just as it had in real time all those years ago. The song rang in her ears as a deafening sound, as if it was trying to remind her of the happiness she experienced all thanks to those two alone. A happiness that surrounded her every single day without fail.
The happiness she lost that one horrible night two years ago.
"Rion?"
Hearing someone call her name, said girl snapped back to reality which caused the memory and its image to fade away like a mist slowly disappearing to allow a more clear visual of her surroundings.
Rion found herself meeting William's eyes as she looked over.
He appeared concerned over her sudden far away disposition. "Are you all right? You looked like you were somewhere else."
"I was remembering something," she replied. "A time with my parents while they were at the piano."
At the mention of the large, stringed instrument, Rion moved her gaze to the grand piano that was still sitting there while gathering more and more dust. She placed a hand on the lid, the urge to play it here and now rising strongly inside of her.
Instead, Rion left it alone as Amity announced that it would probably be good to leave just in case one of the faculty members found them somewhere they shouldn't be. Serenity and Verity had no protests as they congregated around their older sister.
William and Rion followed after the trio, leaving the room and its companions alone for now.
The children watched the woman intensely as she quickly performed the necessary wand movements atop of a familiar mechanism that all of the former were highly cognizant of.
"Alohomora!" the distinctive sound of a click rang out and the heavy metal part of the mechanical lock promptly separated itself from the object in question. The Charms professor then lowered her wand to her side.
"And that's how you can easily unlock locked doors," said Zelda while leaving the lock where it lay. "However, I don't recommend just going around and unlocking doors willy-nilly since you don't know what exactly lies on the other side of them."
Her eyes held a discernible chill to them as she looked at her students. "So, don't do it. Have I made myself clear?"
A round of simultaneous voices agreeing with the woman rang out in response.
Zelda nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, go ahead and perform the Unlocking Charm with the locks in front of you."
Just as the previous days in the last week, a charm's incantation graced the air in the classroom. The students waved their wands, some effectively and others not. Clicks similarly to what happened with the older woman's came successive, sounding like that of someone creating a new musical composition. Some students laughed as the noise sounded funny to their ears.
Eventually, every single lock was unlocked signaling that every student managed to perform the charm inside the classroom. Zelda clapped her hands, a small show of praise for the children having successfully cast what they were requested to.
"Good job, everyone. For some of you that was better than last class. We'll learn the Locking Charm as well considering you just learned the Unlocking Charm, it would be ridiculous not to."
Pointing her wand once more at the lock on her desk, Zelda said, "Colloportus!"
The lock that had been unlocked was again sealed, the huge metal part gravitating toward the opened piece to become one. Just like with the Unlocking Charm, the children followed their professor's example and re-locked their own locks. More clicks surged forth to fill whatever silence had been left despite the countless voices speaking at the same time and some out of tandem.
Zelda's eyes looked from one student to the other, quietly observing their performance with a critical eye.
After finally casting the Locking Charm with as much proficiency as the children could muster, the woman praised her students again. Though such words typically gave a sense of relief and pride when spoken to others, the first-years didn't feel much of those things due to how Zelda delivered the words. But at least they had managed to do what was requested of them, and the Charms professor did give them due praise in the end.
Upon being informed that this class was now officially over, Rion slumped in her seat with her shoulders slouching and body sliding down a bit so it appeared as if she had shrunk a few inches. William noticed this and looked over, a small smile fluttering to his lips at the relief the blonde Gryffindor girl exhibited. Amity also shifted her eyes of melted gold to the other girl, a ghost of a smile curling the corners of her mouth up.
After eating their fill of lunch, with Serenity swaying back and forth on her feet as if she had just drank an entire bottle of mead, the quartet went on their way to their next scheduled class. William had a different class with the Hufflepuffs and had gone to it before the girls had officially finished eating. He and Rion had waved to each other before he departed.
The Gryffindor first-years' next class for the afternoon was one that Rion had little confidence in. It was a very particular type of magic—not that the others weren't, but this one was different. So different that it had Rion wondering if she would create a mess of things if she even attempted to perform any of its charms. It was similar in execution to Potions in that one had to be exact in what they were doing to avoid any mishaps.
Upon entering the room, the children were greeted with the sight of a slightly unfamiliar man standing in front of a desk that was situated at the front of the classroom. Just like all the others. The Gryffindors were then joined by the first-years of Ravenclaw House. When a pair of blue-greys looked over at Rion, Amity and the latter's sisters, they brandished a peculiar shine that made the aforementioned girls crease their brows in equal parts confusion.
Looking over once all of them had arrived, the man from before brandished a welcoming and kind smile. He was tall, very tall in fact though that was mostly because the children hadn't reached their full heights yet given their adolescence, and had a firm yet relaxed aura about him. His body was donned in a long, flowing robe where the hem stopped just above his ankles.
After introducing himself, he gestured and implored his new students to take their seats.
Everyone went around to find a desk to sit at for the duration of their school year. Rion followed after Amity, Serenity and Verity who made a beeline for a group of four that were situated near the far wall. Unfortunately, one of the chairs was taken by another student. Immediately, the blonde volunteered to find another while the triplets took the other three that were still open.
The brunette was quick to say that she could find another place to sit so Rion could be next to people she knew well. But Rion shook her head while giggling, insisting that she'd be fine not sitting next to either of them this time. After separating from the triplets, Rion walked over to another section of the room and quickly made her way to an empty seat.
When she arrived at it, and after taking a seat in it, the person that was already sitting in the one adjacent to Rion's looked over. Two pairs of eyes widened instantly, recognizing each other. Their voices came out surprised, not at all having expected to be next to each other like this.
"Winters?"
"Reid?"
In response to hearing their voices, the other girl, Ida Castleberry, that was on the other side of Monica peered over the latter's shoulder. Eyes of a leafy green narrowed upon seeing Rion. Said girl canted her head in confusion, though her heart stuttered with a particular emotion as she was familiar with that look in the week she'd been attending the school. She smiled as a way to dispel any hostility the other girl may have toward her.
A deep sigh escaped Castleberry, and then she turned her head away.
Rion's smile disappeared swiftly at that.
Monica, upon being shaken out of her stupor, shifted her gaze over to her friend and whispered lowly in the girl's ear. One corner of Castleberry's mouth turned up in a small snarl at whatever the redhead was saying.
With another sigh that could've erupted an entire volcano, Castleberry looked over at Rion once more and said in a rough voice, "Sorry."
The Gryffindor opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted beforehand as the other girl hurriedly went back to what she had been doing prior.
Quietly, Monica said, "I'm sorry for her. She's not exactly friendly to those she doesn't know well."
Rion had a feeling that there was a lot more to the other Ravenclaw's behaviour than that. "It's all right. If she doesn't want to talk to me, that's fine."
"Her apology could've been better," said Monica. "More sincere."
Castleberry acted like she hadn't heard her even though they were practically sitting on top of each other.
Stepping down the elevated step that separated his desk from those that his students were sitting at, Orpheus Crane exuded a calming presence that didn't dissipate the seriousness that embodied the subject he taught. Transfiguration, as well as its sub-forms, was not a flimsy and frivolous type of magic. Even just one mistake with a particular charm or potion could cause irreversible and irreparable damage.
Orpheus was particularly talkative during his explanation of it, refusing to let any stone unturned as he implored the children to realize the dire consequences they could create if they went into this with an overly careless disposition. While they were only learning, and technically wouldn't be doing anything that could create such instances, at least as long as their professor was around, going into the basics with a more serious mindset from the beginning would help them further along the road than not having it.
With his wand in hand, he said, "All you have to do is follow my example, much like with all of your other classes. On your desks, you will have your own individual cup which you will then proceed to transfigure into a small bowl."
As Orpheus spoke, the cups in question that were lying off to the side slowly rose up and into the air. After traveling the distance, the cups were set upon the surface of each student's desk. Some of them reacted with surprise, not at all expecting for the objects to come flying toward them as though being lead by invisible strings attached to the ceiling.
Rion slowly reached out her hand, the tips of her fingers lightly tracing the smooth contours of the cup in front of her.
"Now," began Orpheus, his wand positioned directly above the one sitting on his desk, "watch and listen very carefully. If you need a reiteration of what I've done, don't be afraid to ask. After all, I'm here to teach you everything I know, and how to do it the right and correct way."
The first-years took their own wands and settled them in their hands, readying themselves for when their turn came.
With strong and decisive movements of his wand, Orpheus spoke out the incantation and his cup was swiftly transformed into the small bowl that he intended for it to change into.
After that, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaws' very first Transfiguration class had officially begun.
On a Wednesday of the second week of classes, with the four Houses Quidditch trials beginning in the same instance just as Noriver had stated, one of the most anticipated classes of all time for some had finally made its debut for this year's new students.
And that class in question was to learn how to fly on a broom.
In short: Flying class.
A man stood at the forefront of the lawn as the first year students in question were lined up in two separate rows on either side of him. Long and sleek, obsidian black hair fell down his back uninhibited as silvery grey eyes flitted from student to student, taking in each of them in turn.
He really did resemble his sister, the Potions Master. Given his relation to said woman, the children were worried that he'd be exactly like her in terms of behaviour and mannerisms toward some of them.
"Welcome, first-years, to Flying class. I am Edgar Talbot, your flying instructor. This is a pretty simple class, especially since we'll be learning only the basics unless you wish to continue your flying education in your future years where more advanced techniques will be taught."
After making sure that the children were positioned by their designated brooms where they were waiting patiently for the signal to start, Edgar began the lesson by first telling his students to say 'up' with as much conviction as they could muster.
Amity scoffed softly to herself. This is child's play.
Thought the child herself.
Throwing her hand out with her palm facing the handle of the broom, she shouted, "Up!"
Zip!
The first-year standing next to her was absolutely startled out of his wits when Amity's broom promptly flew up toward her awaiting palm. She encircled her fingers around the handle to make sure that it didn't fall back to the grass.
Edgar saw this and said, "Good job, Quinnell."
She nodded, her heart swelling with the genuine praise. "Thank you, sir."
From the opposite side, two more loud shouts of 'up' were given.
Zip!
Zip!
Serenity and Verity stood in their respective places with their brooms now in hand.
Walking past, Edgar gave a nod. "Another good job, Quinnell and Quinnell."
Serenity gave a beaming smile while Verity's was more subdued.
Just as the instructor took another step forward, a third shout permeated the air. Instantly the broom went into the first-year's hand almost as though it was naturally attracted to it, fitting itself to the appendage neatly.
Silver grey glanced over to meet bright emeralds. He gave her a nod of approval. "Well done, Winters."
Rion smiled, holding the handle with both hands. "Thank you, sir."
Edgar walked on, gaze flitting to the other students. He saw that a few were still having trouble with the summoning of their brooms, and he set forth in trying to explain to them what it was like to give conviction to one's voice and how powerful such an emotion was when used in the right way.
A girl from Ravenclaw House managed to summon her broom, earning herself a nod and words of approval from Edgar.
Monica bowed politely while holding her broom securely with her hand. "Thank you, sir."
To his right, the man heard a boy consistently shouting 'up' but wasn't able to truly command his broom to come to him. When Edgar allowed his eyes to steal a glance over his shoulder, he saw it was a Gryffindor boy with burnt umber brown hair and slate grey eyes.
The instructor approached him. "Brennan."
Said boy jolted, not at all expecting to be called out. His eyes of a similar colour yet different shade from the man's immediately snapped upward. Alexander waited for the inevitable, negative verdict that he was sure he was about to be met with.
Edgar paused about three feet away. "Go on and say it once more if you would."
Alexander didn't need to be informed of what to say. He did, and the broom was again still lying motionlessly on the ground. The hand that was outstretched clenched for a millisecond before reverting back to being open with the palm facing down.
The boy's brows pinched together, frustrated at having failed to call his broom for what felt like the umpteenth time now.
"You'll get it."
The words were said with a great amount of certainty and conviction. Conviction. That was what he needed, that emotion. That way of saying the word so his broom would listen to him and obey his command.
Alexander stared down at the object once more and shouted, "Up!"
Zip!
The broom swiftly surged up to plant itself against the Gryffindor boy's palm. Without missing a beat, lest he would have to go through that whole ordeal again, Alexander wrapped his fingers around its handle.
An utterly surprised but positively happy expression was written across his face.
A small, proud smile came to Edgar's own. "Wonderfully executed, Brennan."
Alexander looked up into the instructor's eyes. He nodded. "Thank you very much, sir!"
Walking onward, Edgar saw that one boy in particular had managed to get his broom in hand. Another nod and then: "Moriarty, nicely done."
William brandished a smile. "Thank you, Instructor."
As the man continued watching over his other students who were still having trouble, he thought idly to himself that he did not recall having heard William's voice throughout the entire class until that moment.
Regardless, Edgar took the thought and then threw it away. Absently, he believed that it wasn't something he should dwell over even while he contemplated the possibility that William could've just picked up his broom from off the ground instead of having done the required first step.
The lesson proceeded as planned until the instructor was called forth by a familiar voice that came from the distance.
"Edgar!" the voice called, eyes of a unique shade of blue with bits of purple looked out from the opening leading onto the lawn. Fianna waved a hand in said man's direction, silently beckoning him over.
A sigh of complete and unveiled disapproval escaped him. Turning back to his class, he said, "I'll be right back. Do not go any further in the lesson until I come back."
Edgar promptly left in a slight huff.
With the children being the only ones out on the field, it was only a matter of time before some sort of chaos ensued.
And, unfortunately, it did not take long.
A small scoff erupted from nowhere. Many eyes peered over to see that the source of it was the current heir to House Drake. He was flanked by his two friends, though in all honesty they were actually just his followers. The Slytherin's eyes held a chilling cold in their depths as they stared at Alexander, said Gryffindor tensing up his shoulders at the attention.
"It was great that you managed to summon your broom despite all of your previously failed attempts, Brennan," said Lionel with an unmistakable air of superiority surrounding him. "Well done."
"Thanks. . . I think," said Alexander. The brunet appeared taken aback by what sounded like a backhanded compliment.
Lionel relaxed his posture, though the grip on the handle of his broom didn't waver. "It isn't every day a Muggle-born witch or wizard is able to put in so much work and actually get good results. But you're different."
Alexander remained quiet this time. A frown that showed his discomfort with the situation marred his features. The hand that grasped his own broom had tightened perceptively.
From the other side of the field, Amity narrowed her eyes upon hearing the words that left Lionel's lips. She had half a mind to say something, to throw in the Slytherin's face about how she and her sisters had easily summoned their own brooms even though they were considered to be in the same category as Alexander.
Nervously, Serenity and Verity shifted their eyes from their older sister to Lionel. They hoped that a fight wouldn't break out because of this.
But they didn't have to worry about Amity doing something that she would undoubtedly come to regret later.
Instead, the one that had spoken was someone familiar but unexpected.
Rion's face mirrored the frown that was on Alexander's face. "Drake, you're not being very nice right now."
Lionel's eyes widened at this. He placed his free hand against his chest, features feigning surprise. "What? What do you mean I'm not being very nice right now? I complimented him. Right? Tell her, Brennan. I gave you credit for a job well done even though you're a Muggle-born."
The boy in question had absolutely no idea what to say at first. But then he was able to find his voice thanks to Rion's intervention.
"Actually. . ." Alexander began, still on the fence whether or not to speak up but he eventually made his decision. "I don't think you were really complimenting me at all."
Lionel continued his charade. "But I did. I was only complimenting you, I wasn't being mean."
It was then Amity had enough. "Give it a rest, Drake. We all know you're faking it. Just be honest already and stop lying!"
The Slytherin's eyes narrowed instantaneously as they slid over to stare at the Gryffindor. He clicked his tongue and then said under his breath: "Of course, the first Mudblood of the reject would say something."
Amity's eyes went wide and her other hand came to grip the handle of her broom so she was holding it with both hands. "What did you just say, Drake?"
"I think you heard me from all the way over there," he said. "Or is it hard for you to hear? Should I talk louder?"
The brunette lifted her broom into the air menacingly, her eyes screaming a particular physical action.
Serenity and Verity instantly hurried over to Amity's side. While the former gripped the handle of the broom, the latter grasped a hold of her elder sister's arms in an attempt to prevent any physical altercations. If the instructor had arrived while she had her broom in the air and aimed at someone, it would no doubt create much more hassle than what was going on in their current reality.
Both girls told Amity that it wasn't worth it and to lower her broom lest Edgar returned from whatever it was he needed to do.
When the brunette didn't show much signs of calming down, Rion zipped over to the trio's side and began to speak to Amity in low, hushed tones. Slowly but surely, Amity showed that she was letting go of her anger by lowering her broom down from the air and back to the ground. In response, Rion smiled brightly which caused Amity to return the gesture albeit more calmly.
While Rion was proceeding to keep Amity's mind off of the Slytherin and what he had said, Monica, who was standing on the other side of Tiffen, leaned in toward Lionel with her own voice being at a very low octave. "Lionel, you know you can't say things like that. It's bad."
His lavender irises met her blue-greys with a more mild chill. "Of course I can, Monica, just not when a teacher is around."
"Lionel—"
"Monica, you are a pure-blood and my friend," the boy mirrored her leaning so they were basically nose to nose. "We're on the same side. They're not. Some of them don't belong on our side, and never will. Don't try to be friendly with those who don't deserve to have magic, Monica. Unless you want to be given the name 'blood traitor' and be an outcast, too."
Monica clamped her lips shut, nothing else escaping her once those words reached her ears.
During the whole ordeal, William was silent as he stood off to the side witnessing the entire scene play out bit by bit. Unbeknownst to the other students who were focused on Lionel and the words he spewed, William's eyes had narrowed a dangerous fraction as his hand gripped the handle of his designated broom in the same manner.
Memories of a while ago fluttered by, and he was more aware of who Lionel had reminded him of from the very first moment William saw the other boy on the Hogwarts Express. He was similar in his beliefs and ideals regarding the difference in blood status between pure-blood and Muggle-born to the actual second son of the Moriarty family.
The very boy whose identity was taken by William five months prior.
Once Edgar had finally returned to the field, his features still communicating his ire, Flying class officially resumed its course.
After retiring to their common rooms once everyone had eaten their fill in the Great Hall, Rion was sat upon one of the chairs inside Gryffindor Tower not too far from the lit fireplace. She was situated quite far from it, the flames reflected in her pupils as she stared relentlessly at them. A book detailing the most common and very important charms to a wizard's livelihood was lying open in her lap.
Unfortunately for her, the book had no pictures whatsoever which made it harder for her to focus on the words. When a book had more words than pictures, especially when it had none of the latter at all, Rion found it difficult to remain concentrated on what she was supposed to be concentrating on. And now, as she was sitting in the chair, her attention was taken by another thing entirely.
It was so focused on the fire that when she felt the feeling of someone placing a hand upon her shoulder, Rion's body jolted a bit. Her eyes grew big and she whipped her head around where she saw unfamiliar slate greys looking at her with an equally large size. The owner drew his hand back to settle it against his side instead.
Upon looking at him, Rion instantly remembered him and his name. "Brennan, it's you."
His voice was sincerely apologetic as he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, Winters."
"I know, and it's all right."
Alexander shifted his gaze over to the sofa opposing the chair Rion was sitting in and, upon making his way over to sit on one of the plush cushions, he said, "I wanted to thank you for earlier, during Flying class with Drake. I didn't think anyone would say something, let alone someone like. . ."
The Gryffindor boy trailed off, his eyes glancing off toward another part of the room before they once more met the girl's baffled vivid greens.
Rion canted her head. "'Someone like'?"
Alexander appeared reluctant to finish his sentence. At her imploring and curious gaze, he said, "Someone like you. A pure-blood."
"Oh. . ." the look in her eyes communicated her sadness at his words. "Well, not all pure-bloods are mean and think they're above everyone else. But, also, not all of them are nice and think they're equal to everyone else."
Her hands came to settle on the open pages of her once forgotten book, their fingers interlacing together. "I can understand why you were surprised when I said something to Drake at the time."
Instantly, in order to quell any possible bad blood from arising due to his honesty, Alexander quickly said, "It's just—well, I read about the wizarding world before coming to Hogwarts and found out the animosity that pure-bloods and Muggle-borns hold for each other because of certain reasons. I'm sorry for believing that you were similar to those who don't like Muggle-borns at all, really, I'm sorry."
A giggle escaped Rion, her eyes closing for a moment before opening again. She met his eyes squarely, not looking away for a second. "I know. You didn't know me and you thought I'd be one of the mean ones. It's fine."
"Really? That's it? You're not mad?"
"No? Why would I be?"
"Well, it's because—I mean—" Alexander ceased talking, finding it difficult to keep going when faced with such an innocent display from the girl across from him. Shaking his head, the brunet said, "Never mind. It's nothing."
As his eyes veered downward to look at the object that was still in her lap, the previous topic of discussion was all but forgotten when he then said, "What kind of book is that?"
"This?" said Rion, her hands grabbing the item in question and lifting it up so the cover was in full view for him. "It's a book about charms."
"The Idiot's Guide to the Most Basic of Spells?" his eyebrows were raised quite comically while his head was tilted to the side. "Do you need a book with such a title?"
She smiled, the action radiant. "Well, I'm not really good at a lot of things, and Charms is one of them. I was trying to read up more about them so I didn't fall behind everyone else in class."
The words escaped him before he had time to really think about them. "Do you want me to help you with them?"
Rion's face told of how she felt when Alexander said that. "You're offering to help me? Why?"
He shrugged, nonchalant. "You said you were having trouble. I'm actually pretty good at Charms—not that I'm bragging or anything."
"Really? You wouldn't mind studying them together?"
"Yeah, if you don't mind."
"Sure! I'd love help! Thank you so much, Brennan!"
A blush of embarrassment dusted his cheeks a light pink. "Yeah. . . You're welcome, Winters."
"Rion," the blonde Gryffindor said instantly, grinning now. "You can call me Rion, Brennan."
"Well, then," said Alexander while looking at some other part of the room, "you can call me Alexander."
The grin took on a brighter glow as she realized something about the boy in front of her.
The pair continued to leisurely engage in conversation, finding it to be relatively simple despite how differently their backgrounds were and how little time they'd known each other.
After having taken a quick peek at their pocket watches to note the current time, the pair soon left their respective places near the fireplace to venture toward the staircase leading to their individual dormitories. They parted ways, Rion going left and Alexander heading to the right. They wished each other a good night along with sweet dreams before officially reaching the doors that would lead them inside their dormitories.
The doors closed, relaying an auditory sound that signaled the end of their meeting.
A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day.