Disclaimer: I do not own Moriarty the Patriot/Yuukoku no Moriarty or Harry Potter.
A/N: Thank you very much for clicking on this story, and I hope this chapter is an enjoyable read.
Once Upon a Prophecy Vol. I
First Year
Chapter FIVE:
"Leggiero"
After the first two weeks of classes, the days at Hogwarts continued this way for two whole months. The routine of waking up, getting dressed, going down to the Great Hall for breakfast and then moving on to one's first class for the day was in full swing from that point onward.
There was a surge of happiness and interest when the 31st of October made its appearance. The students were up and out of bed early considering that it was a day off from school, if only for one day. The feast was amazing as the food was different from what was served every day at breakfast, lunch and dinner; the new assortment of goods was graciously, and even somewhat greedily, partaken of with extreme gusto.
The faculty members told stories of long past Halloweens that had taken place at Hogwarts: some nice and some not so nice.
They told of one story when an eerie voice that sounded as if it was coming from the dungeons caused the students of Slytherin House insomnia due to the fear of what it could've been. It was revealed to be a poltergeist who had decided to initiate a prank only for it to backfire when the other ghosts ratted him out without a second thought.
Another time they told of how the supposed mythological Headless Horseman had arrived to the school of his own accord and terrorized the inhabitants by claiming that he would take their heads to use as his own.
Another Halloween night, a troll had been set free and almost killed a female student when she went on her own to capture him. She almost died in one of the female students' lavatories if two boys of her same year and house hadn't come to her rescue in time.
After that, classes had resumed again and the same routine fell back into place like clockwork.
There was hardly anything out of the ordinary except for the occasional bullying done by some students from certain houses toward the others and toward specific people in their own houses, and even then it wasn't that much of a weird thing to happen given how innate the behaviour almost seemed to be for those students in particular.
Despite having to go through classes with the perpetual air of upcoming exams surrounding them at every turn, Rion anticipated only a few things when it came to finally attending Hogwarts.
One: Flying class.
Two: Astronomy class.
And last but not least, the third thing that the Gryffindor was highly anticipating was none other than—
A blur of red and gold zipped by at an incredible speed. The momentum caused the strands of hair and the fabric of clothing belonging to those that were stationed in the tower that held the Gryffindor students to fly in the same direction as the blur.
The sky was dreary looking as the clouds above took on a grey hue, the sun itself invisible while being hidden by the aforementioned puffs of fluff although its light managed to streak through some of the openings to grace everyone with some illumination.
November had rolled around quickly and the very first game of Quidditch—the wizarding aerial equivalent of football—had begun with very loud and excited reactions. The first houses that were set against each other were Gryffindor and Slytherin, just as Elijah Noriver had noted.
Apparently the heads of house had decided to kick off the season with a game between the houses with the biggest and most blatant rivalry in the entire Hogwarts castle. By this time, the winnings throughout the years for each house were fairly even and this one in particular could determine which of the two houses would come out on top at the end of the season.
Eyes of bright green were closed before they were promptly opened once more, the owner eagerly leaning over the edge to get a closer look at the goings-on happening on the pitch. A hand came from behind to grip the collar of her robe, promptly pulling her away from the edge and back to safety.
Rion reacted with complete surprise, not expecting anyone to do that considering how focused she was on the game.
When she shifted her gaze over her shoulder, she locked eyes with the oceanic blue of one of Gryffindor's prefects. A kind and concerned look shined in their depths, but there was also a little apprehension giving Rion's former precarious predicament.
"Rion," began Roy with a firm tone, "please be careful with being too close to the tower's edge. You could fall off if you don't pay attention, or one of the Chasers could end up knocking you out by accident."
Said girl gave a sheepish smile as an air of obvious guilt surrounded her. "I'm sorry, Roy. I'll be careful from now on."
A hand was planted on her shoulder. "Yeah, Rion, stay back. Otherwise you could get hurt like Meriwether said."
The girl turned to lock her eyes with a familiar pair of golden yellow.
Standing near Roy was Amity who had become acquainted with said boy and the other fifth-year when Rion introduced them. The trio had rarely sat next to each other at breakfast as Rion was typically late and came to the hall after Amity and her sisters had already departed the Gryffindor Tower, making it a bit late for Rion's best friend to even know that fifth-years named Roy Meriwether and Mark Willoughby even existed.
It was an instantaneous feeling of kinship between Roy and Amity as the two had a couple things in common between them, with one being to look out for Rion in any way possible. It wasn't uncommon knowledge if one was perceptive enough to know that the younger girl had a penchant for getting into some sticky situations that could cause harm to herself.
This wasn't intentional on Rion's part, mind, but it was more common than rare which was a worrisome thing.
For Mark and Amity, it was a bit more difficult as the boy's playful nature sometimes got on her nerves—reminded her a bit too much of her younger sister: Serenity—but there was enough there that the duo could talk about and therefore get along quite well.
The one thing that they for sure had in common was the very game that was playing before them, obliviously, and rightly so, of the conversation that was happening in the tower full of Gryffindor students.
And speaking of the playful, mischievous fifth-year. . .
The Gryffindor Chaser that had the Quaffle ended up having it stolen from her by someone who was flying near her blind side. The one that stole it was none other than the Slytherin Quidditch Captain: Elijah Noriver.
Now with the Quaffle in his possession, Noriver made a beeline for the triadic hoops that designated the goal posts for the Slytherin team to make their score all while dodging the Gryffindor Chasers and the Bludger that was almost too conveniently close to knocking him off his broom.
No one appeared to be around them, the Gryffindor Keeper surprisingly and quite ridiculously absent from their own duty. Taking the opportunity regardless, Noriver got close enough to where he believed he could make an accurate shot and threw the Quaffle.
Only for said ball to be blocked at the last minute.
The Slytherin Captain had his eyes wide open upon finding the Gryffindor Keeper, who was also the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, had arrived just in the nick of time. Or the Keeper had been absent on purpose and was waiting for an easy opportunity to prevent the Quaffle access to any of the goal hoops.
Noriver frowned, a stirring of anger rising in his gut.
Mark's face was neutral, one of his hands holding onto the handle of his broom as he stared at the Slytherin.
He then smiled, his playful, mischievous disposition coming out to the forewent for a brief moment as he lightly taunted the other fifth-year.
Roy brandished an expression of disapproval at Mark's antics. "There he goes again: doing things he shouldn't be. Mark! Get back into serious mode, would you?!"
Almost as if he'd been snapped back to reality, Mark's typical demeanour vanished to be replaced with a more serious countenance.
The game resumed its course.
One of the Gryffindor Chasers was currently in possession of the Quaffle as they were pursued by two of the Chasers on the Slytherin team. With a dexterous sleight of hand, the Gryffindor Chaser threw the Quaffle toward another on their team who proceeded to score by passing the object into one of the hoops that the Slytherin Keeper wasn't guarding.
The students in the Gryffindor's tower raised themselves to their feet as they cheered loud and happily for the score, clapping their hands.
The other three towers which held the students that made up the other three houses had mixed reactions. Where those of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw mostly cheered for the score, those in the Slytherin tower were mostly disappointed as it was their loss.
In the fifth tower lied the faculty members who watched and observed the game with calm but keen eyes.
Fianna smiled, arms coming to cross over one another while her unique blues continued to follow the Gryffindor team members with a discerning eye. "I think this game will be ours."
The woman said this confidently as though it was a sure thing.
A small, playful laugh came forth right beside her. "Oh, really? Are you sure about that, Fianna?"
The one who had spoken was Killian.
His own eyes followed the students that made up the Slytherin team. "Don't count your chickens before they've hatched or all you'll be left with is disappointment and failed expectations."
"Quite the poet, huh, Killian?" said Fianna, smiling. "Is it because of the losses your team has suffered last year that you've become this way?"
"I just believe it best to wait for the final results instead of getting ahead of myself. That is the better choice, isn't it? That way one wouldn't look like a fool if the end result is the complete opposite of what they were boasting."
A laugh and then: "I see, I see. I'm older than you are so I understand where you're coming from."
"Oh, really?" Killian feigned surprise. "You act so much younger—are you sure you didn't happen to lie about your age all these years, Professor Alden?"
She lightly bumped his shoulder with her own. "Oh, hush."
A blur passed them by, going so fast that the wind played roughly with their hair and clothing.
Fianna's eyes were wide. Her long, red hair was now frizzy and all over the place. Killian, on the other hand, got out of it fine as his hair was already a natural mess so there wasn't any actual difference given to his appearance.
The blur in question belonged to Albert. Said fourth-year was in possession of the Quaffle and quickly closing the gap between himself and the hoops. Mark, who watched the other boy's approach intensely, tried to predict which one he'd shoot for.
His gambling didn't pay off as Albert feinted to the right but shot for the middle hoop. The Gryffindor Keeper wasn't able to react in time and the Quaffle went into the exact hoop the Slytherin Chaser aimed for. In the Slytherin tower, all of the students cheered happily for the score.
After, both Albert and Mark made eye contact. Their faces were neutral and then Mark's shifted to a smile, his free hand that wasn't holding onto his broom's handle giving a friendly thumbs up to Albert showing that the former fully acknowledged the latter's skill.
The Slytherin fourth-year returned the smile, giving a short but polite nod in gratitude for the recognition.
The game proceeded and eventually ended with the Gryffindor House's win as the team's Seeker caught the Snitch, appointing an additional one hundred and twenty points to their score of the same amount. A huge uproar from the Gryffindor tower soared into the air, cheers of happiness ringing out loudly.
Once the game was finished, all members of both teams fluttered down to the pitch to land on solid ground. Facing each other in a line on either side just like they had before the start of the match, everyone gave a "well done" with some also giving disgruntled congratulatory messages to the winners.
The Slytherin Captain knocked some heads when certain members of his team refused to show good sportsmanship even though the former himself wasn't all too keen in doing that either, only doing so out of formality.
The teams walked off the pitch while holding their brooms, the Gryffindors trading small, playful jabs at each other whenever they saw someone didn't manage a particular technique and looked silly for messing it up. The Slytherins were quiet, almost eerily so, as they made their way across the pitch to eventually leave it altogether.
Before officially leaving, Mark and Albert exchanged another amiable smile with the former lifting up a hand as an added farewell.
Once everyone had gotten back to their common rooms, with some of the students meandering back out and into the castle to spend more of their day off lounging around the huge, centuries old structure, a celebration was held in honour of Gryffindor winning their first Quidditch match of the school year.
"That was amazing!" shouted Rion, jumping up and down on the comfy cushions of one of Gryffindor Tower's sofas. "The way you blocked Noriver from scoring was amazing, Mark!"
"It was, wasn't it?" Mark sat on the other sofa opposite her, leaning back with a very relaxed position. His signature grin illuminated his features, a slight smugness to his expression.
"It was like a comic! You weren't there and then all of a sudden, you showed up just in the nick of time!"
Roy, who was standing near the sofa that Mark was sitting at, walked over to Rion's side and politely gestured for the girl to settle down. She did as instructed, moving her legs out from under herself just when she took a big leap so she ended up landing on her rear. With the momentum that was given, Rion's body gave a huge bounce with the successive ones morphing into small, slow bounces before she stopped completely.
The fifth-year prefect moved back to the sofa that the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain was sitting on. With his arms crossed, Roy looked at Mark as the redhead said, "You were surprisingly more serious this time than all of the other times you've been on the pitch, Mark."
"Of course," Mark said this as though it was obvious. "After all, Quidditch is a very serious sport, you know."
"Oh, I know. Which is why your little taunts given to Slytherin's Captain shouldn't have happened."
"I only taunted a little—besides it's not like I was shouting profanities and making it seem as if I was much better than him. That's his job given the fact he's a Slytherin."
"Regardless if it was 'only a little,' doing such things on the pitch can turn the game into the opponent's favour instead. And I'm going to disregard what you just said about Noriver as that's an entirely different matter."
"Now, you're just being a stick in the mud. This is one of the reasons you became prefect."
Roy was taken aback, his eyes wide. "Excuse me? What do you mean I'm a stick in the mud? And what do you also mean by how it's one of the reasons I was chosen as our year's prefect?"
The loud, raucous noise that permeated the common room was slowly but surely quieting down as the boys devolved into a small bickering match between them. Rion was silent, her eyes flitting from one to the other as an uneasy feeling welled up in her chest. As if called forth, Amity came to Rion's side and sat down beside her with a plate of celebratory cake and a cup of pumpkin juice in hand.
The brunette handed the items to the blonde who took them while her eyes were still centered on Roy and Mark.
"It's just as I said," said Mark, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "It's not a big deal—I mean, everyone sees you as someone who's all work and no play. Even when I make jokes about your school profession, you just look at me with a disapproving look."
"Because it's my school profession. Just because I didn't ask for it doesn't mean I want it to be joked about—hell, I don't even want it to be talked about at all. But it's still me, Mark, just like how being the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain is your school profession. It's ultimately apart of you until you officially graduate from Hogwarts."
Roy swiftly pivoted on his heel to make his way toward the portrait hole that lead in and out of the tower. Mark observed his movements, his twin russet browns losing their shine significantly at the other fifteen-year-old's attitude.
"Roy—"
"I don't feel like talking anymore," said Roy as he opened the entrance and exit to leave into the corridor. "I'm sorry, everyone, for ruining the moment. Please, continue it without me if you can."
The doorway shut behind him, the sound echoing out as if to be an auditory representation of his leave.
Everyone was still quiet, their eyes centering on the portrait hole as if they expected him to come back. When he didn't, the noise from earlier started up again.
Rion proceeded to stare at where Roy had disappeared out of, the treats that Amity had brought over for her completely forgotten.
With his hands casually stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, Roy sauntered down the corridor while passing many other students. They looked at him and then at each other, lowly whispering to themselves.
As he turned the corner, a pair immediately began acting suspicious but Roy, given his current mood, didn't care and stalked off with his mind still elsewhere. He didn't even look at them almost as if, to him, the pair weren't even there at all. Totally invisible to his perception.
The loud thumping of fast footsteps reverberated off the stone walls to practically take over the entire atmosphere. The owner of the steps garnered a lot of attention and subsequent stares, but they didn't mind as they proceeded down the corridor.
Suddenly, a shout came forth. "Roy!"
Said prefect stopped in his steps abruptly, pivoting on his heel with wide, disbelieving eyes. In a mystified voice, he asked, "Rion?"
The first-year in question was six feet away when her steps became slow and noticeably sluggish. She didn't fully stop until she was three feet away, her upper body slouching as she placed her hands upon her knees. Her chest rose as she inhaled and exhaled in rapid succession to catch her breath.
Roy waited patiently for her to recover.
When she did, somewhat, Rion lifted her upper body up so she could lock her bright emeralds with the prefect's ocean blues. While still breathing a bit heavily, she said, "Are you okay?"
The fifth-year was shocked. "What?"
"Are you okay? You didn't look happy after your argument with Mark, so I thought I should come and see how you were doing."
"Ah. . . That's generous of you, Rion. Really." Roy felt his heart swell at the girl's genuine kindness toward him. "I'm still not feeling fine, though. I'm still. . ."
He trailed off, feeling the words that popped into his head were insufficient to explain exactly how he was currently feeling other than 'not fine.'
Rion blinked multiple times. "Upset?"
Roy was once more taken aback. He mirrored her blinking episode. "Yeah. . ."
"Am and I sometimes don't see eye to eye on things," said Rion. "There are just some things that we won't be able to fully understand in each other. But we still listen. We listen to what each other needs and, if we hurt the other's feelings, we'll apologize."
She then smiled. "And I don't think you'll have to wait long for your friend to apologize either, Roy."
Roy was now confused. Bewildered. Befuddled. Everything that communicated that he wasn't sure what she was talking about.
The reason for her somewhat cryptic speech made his appearance not too long after these words were spoken by Rion.
Blue met brown, and the former were wide upon making contact.
"Mark?"
Said fifth-year sauntered over, his hands in his own pockets. He stopped not too far away from Roy, and the boys looked like mirror images of themselves when it came to their pose. The silence that permeated the atmosphere didn't go unnoticed and it also wasn't broken immediately by either boy as they just stood there staring at each other as if not knowing what to say.
It was then Roy opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Mark.
"Roy," said Mark, expression conveying his shame. "I, uh. . . I'm sorry. What I said back at the tower was completely unnecessary. You're not a stick in the mud. You just have a harder time seeing the world with a bit more lightheartedness than others."
The prefect was quiet, and Mark had fully believed that he messed up his apology with adding in Roy's slight difficulty in finding the humour in life instead of just taking it all serious.
Suddenly, a soft but perceptive snort leaped into the air. Both Mark and Rion were taken aback, their eyes big as they looked at Roy as if he'd just told them the secrets of the universe.
His eyes were closed and a smile of mirth lit up his features. Roy's laughter perpetuated for a little while longer before it slowly descended into even smaller bouts and then ceased altogether.
When he looked back at Mark, his blues were shining in the same way the surface of the ocean would when the sun's rays would hit it just right.
"I'm not going to lie, Mark," Roy said, his smile never leaving, "I honestly thought you were about to foul-up your own apology."
Nervous laughter escaped the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain at these words. "To be honest myself, when you went totally silent, I thought I did. But it seems everything's fine. . . Right?"
Understandably, Mark was still nervous if his apology had actually been accepted by Roy. The prefect may have laughed, but that didn't mean he had forgiven Mark for what the latter had said to him.
Roy nodded. "Yeah. Everything's fine."
Mark's body visibly deflated at this. Relief washed over him like a soothing and refreshing tidal wave after being stuck in a heat wave for a while.
"Really? That's great!" Mark immediately slung an arm over Roy's shoulders and this time the latter wasn't disgruntled by the action.
Rion brandished her signature smile while looking at the two of them.
Out of the blue, Roy turned his gaze to her. "Rion, thanks for coming to see how I was doing. I really do appreciate it."
"Oh, it was nothing, Roy. I'm just glad I could help."
"Also, Rion, you do realize that you had been running to catch up to me, right?"
She nodded, not understanding where the fifth-year was going with this. "Yeah, I was."
"And I'm a prefect. So, you just broke one of the rules of no running in the corridors right in front of the one person you shouldn't have."
The entire spectacle of watching as realization set in for Rion, with the map being her face, was humourous to the boys.
"What was that?"
These words were said with a deceptively calm and casual tone of voice.
The atmosphere inside Slytherin Dungeon was morose, particularly in the common room where Noriver was seen standing with his hands positioned on his hips. The aura that exuded off the Quidditch captain was filled with disappointment. He stared at each of his fellow members who, except for Albert, were all looking off to the side, either at the walls or the floor. They looked much like children being scolded by a disapproving parent.
It was silent for the longest time, no one saying a word in response to his question.
Noriver sighed. "Well? Anyone want to give an answer?"
It was at this moment that someone had gathered up enough courage to say something.
But it wasn't what the captain wanted to hear.
"What do you mean?" this was given by one of the Beaters who had many of the other members turn their heads to stare at him in disbelief and horror.
Even Noriver was taken aback by the question. His reddish-brown eyes narrowed. "What do I mean? I don't recall asking to be answered with another question."
The Beater, Vladimir Huxley, was dumbfounded by this. "I asked, Captain, because I don't understand. We all did our best to initiate scores and in trying to stop the opposing team's members from doing so."
"Ah. So, the answer to my question is that you weren't trying hard enough?"
"That's not what I—"
Vladimir was promptly cut off from finishing his sentence. An arm shot out in front of him, similar coloured irises looking at him with a desperately imploring gaze. A shake of the head accompanied the look, long and deep black strands flowing along with the motion.
"Brother, don't," Valerie said, tone low in a whisper.
Moving away so he was facing the wall behind him, Noriver said, "At least I now know that most of you aren't putting everything into winning."
Silence took over after this assertive declaration before it flared up once more.
From the door that lead to the first year boys' dormitory, William appeared while having his hand holding the doorknob. The distinct sound of approaching footsteps came from over his shoulder and he looked away to see who they belonged to, finding the only son of Drake walking up behind him from further down the pathway.
With an amiable smile, Lionel said, "Ah, Moriarty, fancy meeting you here along the way."
William was silent for a moment before a smile of his own fluttered to his lips. "Hello, Drake. How are you doing this afternoon?"
"Quite well. Thank you for asking." Lionel came to stand near William, his smile never wavering. "Are you perhaps about to leave the dungeon?"
"Yes, in fact, I was thinking about going for a stroll around the castle."
"Oh, yeah? I'll be heading out, too."
"Are you going for a stroll, as well?"
"Not really. I have to visit one of the professors for something."
The air was silent for a while, neither of the boys making a single move. Their eyes seemed to search each other as though looking for something in particular. Suddenly, the sound of something thumping against the floor not only pulled the two away from their staring contest but also ceased the continued conversation that was still happening in the common room.
Upon looking at the source of the noise, William and Lionel saw that it was both of the latter's followers. Pearson stood with his eyes resting on the other two while Tiffen was near his side. The former furrowed his brows in question and the girl appeared just as stoic as usual, her face not giving away whatever she was feeling.
Lionel looked back to William who met the former's gaze evenly. "Well, I'll be running along. Have a good rest of your day, Moriarty."
The other boy politely nodded. "Thank you, Drake. I wish the same for yourself."
After giving a nod in return, Lionel left with Pearson and Tiffen quickly trailing behind him like little lost puppies. The sound of the dungeon's door opening and closing shot through the air, quelling the previously strained and suffocating atmosphere from earlier.
While traversing along the corridor it wasn't long before William ran into a familiar person on the way.
A dazzling smile lit up her face as soon as she caught sight of him, and she didn't waste any time in closing the distance, no matter how small, between them so they were now standing much closer together.
"Will!" Rion shouted, skidding to a halt before colliding with the boy. William had taken a pre-emptive step back just in case. "Are you going for a walk?"
"Yes," said William. "Are you doing the same?"
"Actually, I came out here to follow after Roy: he had an argument with Mark earlier and I wanted to see if he was okay."
"Really? Did everything go okay?"
"Yeah, they made up and went back to Gryffindor Tower."
After relaying this, the children naturally fell in step together as they walked down the corridor.
"So," began Rion, her hands clasped behind her back as she leaned forward a bit, "Gryffindor won the first Quidditch match of the year. It seemed pretty close for most of the time until the Seeker caught the Snitch."
"That's true. Slytherin was in the lead for most of the match until that moment. Though, it could have gone either way."
"Yeah, at one point I thought Gryffindor wasn't going to make it. But everyone on the team pulled through in the end."
As the duo turned a corner so they were now walking down a different corridor, a playful shine attached itself to the girl's smile. "Maybe Gryffindor will be the one who wins the House Cup this year."
"Is that so?" it could've been just Rion's imagination but she could've sworn she heard the same emotion in her smile playing with the edges of the boy's tone. "That's a possibility, but it's also possible that any of the other houses could win."
"That's true, but I have a hunch that Gryffindor will come out on top."
"I didn't take you for the competitive type, Rion."
"I'm not, it's more friendly sportsmanship than anything. If Slytherin had won, I would've been happy still since that would've meant that your house was closer to winning the Cup."
The corridor stretched on for a while until the duo came to a staircase which they climbed at a slow, calm pace. Even as they reached the top, the pair kept on walking while keeping in step with each other as they settled into a comfortable silence together.
Coming upon a particular window among a stream of many, Rion stopped walking. And when she did, William also ceased walking. He turned to look at her over his shoulder where he found her staring out of the window she had stopped near.
The Slytherin approached her. "Rion?"
The girl didn't respond, her gaze continuing to peer out at whatever had snatched her attention away.
Following her eyes, William saw the unmistakable figure of Professor Alden as she marched out of the Forbidden Forest where she then crossed the long stretch of land toward the castle. As the children were a good distance above, neither could see the expression on her face but the way she walked to the building appeared to have a sense of determination lining her steps.
The woman eventually disappeared from sight.
"So, for today we'll be once again practicing being in the air," Edgar said as he was already mounted on his broom. "But only from seven feet above the ground."
Some groans of disappointment rang out as his students from all houses mounted their own brooms. After recalling what they were taught in their previous lessons, the children had no issues in taking to the air.
They circled their instructor who gave a nod of approval to their technique.
"Even though we're staying relatively close to the ground, if you fall off your broom it is highly probable to still be inflicted with some wounds so be careful. Please."
The children nodded with some echoing out that they would be. Well, at least they'd try to be careful.
"We'll start by flying slow around the field. After that, I'll monitor how each of you do on your own. Now, if everyone's ready, let's get started."
Edgar silently commanded his broom to move, wrapping his hands securely around its handle as he leaned forward a bit. The children followed his example, their eyes firmly trained on the man.
The beginning of the lesson went well, everyone doing as they were told and not going off script once. A young Slytherin girl ended up accidentally sliding a bit off her broom and, before she actually fell off to make harsh contact with the grass, a hand swiftly shot out to push on her shoulder in an attempt to put her back on her broom.
It worked and she managed to situate herself back fully on her broom. Her wide, lemon yellow irises glanced over to look into the deep brown of her saviour. He was a student from Hufflepuff House, and the two exchanged a smile and the girl, surprisingly, gave her gratitude to him for helping her.
Edgar's silvery greys were centered on her. "Ashton, are you all right?"
The girl, Grace Ashton, nodded her head. "Yes, Instructor, I'm okay. All thanks to. . . Shelby."
Ashton paused as she took a brief glance at the Hufflepuff boy's nametag on his robe.
Looking over at the boy, Edgar said, "Well done, Shelby, for helping a fellow schoolmate."
With a small smile, Shelby said, "Thank you, Instructor. It's the least I can do, after all, it's only right to help those that're in need."
There wasn't any form of mockery or shaming in the boy's voice as he spoke.
Almost as though she was called upon, Rion whirled her head around to look at Shelby. When the two locked eyes, she beamed brightly at him and he smiled back with his own being far more subdued.
The lesson resumed with no hiccups.
Each student was eventually called on to fly through the air on their own without Edgar anywhere near them. He observed them and found they did well with what had been taught in previous classes.
When it was Rion's turn, the girl was immensely eager to start but did her best to wait for her instructor's approval first. As soon as Edgar gave the go ahead, Rion moved through the air at a slow and calm pace.
She wanted to go faster and to feel the wind even more. Even while above the ground, she felt a strong sense of freedom. Like she could go anywhere she wanted to and there was no one to tell her otherwise. At this point in her life that wasn't true, but someday. . .
When Edgar signaled for her to come back to him, Rion did as he wanted and flew at a slow pace toward the ground where he was. He nodded his head, voicing aloud his praise for her skill as she landed. She smiled and thanked the man.
Just when the instructor was about to inform his students about certain techniques they could do when in the air, ones that were typically employed by Quidditch players while on the pitch, a voice floated on the wind and toward them from the distance. Everyone looked over to see a familiar figure in the distance, her long red hair flowing down her back untamed.
Upon seeing who it was, the Flying instructor frowned. Deeply.
Even from the distance it was obvious that the woman who had called out was brandishing a sheepish smile. It held a hint of a genuine apology in the line of her mouth, too.
Although it had been two months since the last time she had interrupted—and that time it was during his first class with his then new students—that event was still fresh in Edgar's mind.
Especially now that it had repeated itself.
Looking back at the children, Edgar instructed them to stay on the ground before sauntering off in Fianna's direction.
Once more leaving the children all on their own.
It wasn't long before amiable chatter rose up and into the air. Particular members of certain houses engaged in conversation with each other, mostly about what had transpired during the lesson. Rion was animatedly talking with Amity and William, the trio standing near each other.
Serenity and Verity were among a different group, chatting amiably with some of the other first-years they had talked to on their first day at Hogwarts.
Lionel was flanked by Pearson, Tiffen, Monica and Castleberry who all appeared to be on friendly terms with each other.
And even Shelby and Ashton were conversing with a congenial air surrounding them.
Suddenly, Lionel spoke. Feigning nonchalance with ease, he said, "Quite boring to just be standing around while waiting for Instructor Talbot to come back."
Upon hearing these words, Amity narrowed her eyes while looking at the heir to House Drake. Subconsciously, she shifted closer to Rion's side with said girl blinking her eyes at the aforementioned boy's sentence.
"Why don't we fly around for a little bit?" said Lionel with a certain inflection in his voice.
"Wonderful idea, Drake," said Amity, sarcasm lacing her voice perceptively. "And then when Instructor Talbot comes back and sees us in the air, he'll give us a grand reward for not doing what he told us to do."
Some of the children laughed under their breath, smiles on their faces. Rion smiled brightly, not even hiding it with Serenity doing the same and Verity turning her head around so no one could see her own smile. Even William allowed a small one of mirth to appear at the slightly older girl's blatant sarcasm.
Lionel, of course, was displeased. He didn't show this though, hiding it behind a well made façade. "If you're too scared, Quinnell, then you can stay on the ground. That's fine by me."
Amity grumbled under her breath, the words incoherent as they spilled from her lips.
Without further words, Lionel mounted his broom and took to the air. From his lofty perch above, he let his lavender irises scan those down below as he said, "Is no one going to join me?"
"What's his deal?" Amity asked, though she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer.
William's eyes of shining ruby didn't leave Lionel's figure. "Regardless of his reason, I think it would be a good idea that we don't go along with whatever he wants."
The sound of movement to his right caused the Slytherin to glance over, and his eyes widened upon seeing Rion getting ready to mount her broom again. Instantly, Amity placed a hand on the other girl's shoulder. Her grip was firm and tight as if to keep Rion anchored to the ground with just her physical strength alone.
At least with what little physical strength Amity had.
"What on Earth do you think you're doing?"
Rion blinked. "I'm going up."
"Why? You'll be falling right into his hands."
"Rion," said William and the girl in question immediately whipped her head around to look at him. "Don't follow Drake. He's clearly up to something, and you shouldn't have to get in trouble because of him."
Silence took over for a brief moment and then Rion smiled. The gesture was full of reassurance but it did nothing to actually assure anyone that this plan was going to go well.
"I'm not going up for him. I want to see it."
It was Amity's turn to blink. "See what?"
Rion looked up at the sky, her eyes staring at the vast blue as she said, "Everything."
Gently prying Amity's hand from her shoulder, Rion remained committed to what she was going to do and lifted herself into the air.
Now in the air, Rion looked around at her surroundings with a striking sense of awe. Her heart fluttered and soared within the confines of her rib cage, almost like it wanted to sprout wings and fly away itself. It stayed behind, however, to keep accomplishing its dutiful task of keeping the young girl alive.
The grip Rion had on her broom tightened a bit, her head still moving from right to left and back in quick succession. From the castle to the Forbidden Forest to the Great Lake and even all the way past the treetops to see the tops of buildings in the distance.
No doubt the buildings belonged to the many shops that were said to litter both sides of the all-wizarding village of Hogsmeade.
She soon felt the approaching presence of someone and Rion had the distinct feeling it didn't belong to someone she was all that fond of.
"So, Winters," said Lionel as he flew up next to her, "I hear you love flying. Is that true?"
Rion nodded, a bad feeling slowly welling up in her chest. "Yeah, I do."
"Have you ever flown on a broom before coming to Hogwarts?"
"Well. . . there was one time my dad tried to teach me, but my mum was afraid I'd get hurt so it didn't last long. Other than that, I haven't been on a broom in a long time."
Sensing something amiss, Monica, who had followed him to try and reason with his decision, tentatively approached the boy on her own broom. "Lionel. . ."
Ignoring her, the Slytherin kept his attention undivided. "Then, that means you haven't tried going fast."
When the Gryffindor shook her head in agreement, Lionel continued with: "It's really amazing, going fast on a broom. Want to try it? Don't worry, I'll be right next to you if anything happens."
Monica appeared very, very panicked. "Lionel, you can't!"
"It's fine, Monica. It'll be fine. We'll be safe. So? You up for it, Winters?"
"I don't think that'd be a good idea, Drake."
"Why not?" Lionel was once more feigning ignorance. "It'll only be for a little bit and then we can stop. What's the harm in trying it?"
Rion shook her head again, the bad feeling starting to evolve into one of dread. "I'm fine—I don't need to, really."
"Oh, come on," said Lionel just as one of his hands left his broom and gripped the part of her own broom's handle that was above her hands. "Just for a little bit. It'll be fine."
Twin green widened significantly as Lionel surged forward with his broom while bringing her along due to his hand still grasping ahold of her own broom. Rion instinctively tightened her grip on the handle as an added measure to keep her position.
From behind the duo, Monica cried out Lionel's name which garnered the attention of more than just Amity and William who had already been witnessing the interaction between the other Gryffindor and Slytherin from the ground.
Suddenly, without a hint of warning, Lionel discreetly threw Rion and her broom forward where the trajectory was aimed toward the field. Not knowing what to do in her panic and shock, Rion ultimately made harsh contact with the ground. In preparation, she had closed her eyes and moved her body so she was more on her side than landing face first.
Once Rion had landed, some of the other children threw their brooms down to the ground as they all hurriedly ran over to the girl's side. Amity, her sisters and William were some of the first ones who arrived, the former quickly putting her arms under Rion to lift her off the ground to the best of the brunette's ability.
"Rion! Rion, are you okay?!"
Said girl released a noise of pain but despite that she nodded her head to silently say that she was okay.
Amity, however, wasn't having any of it. "Come off it! You're not okay! You're a terrible liar, Rion!"
"I really am fine. . . It's just a scratch, that's all."
William was positioned on Rion's other side. He asked her if he could see the injury and he saw the reluctance that shined in her eyes, swirling back and forth with other emotions. Ultimately she gave her consent and William moved her skirt just a bit to see her knee, revealing the damage that had been done whether slight or not.
A scratch it was, indeed.
The open wound poured a familiar red liquid that looked more dark then bright when it pooled in one area, but showed a lighter hue whenever the liquid dripped further down her knee toward the expanse of her leg. The skin that had been there was scraped off as if in a purposeful and forceful way.
The scratch was more alike that of a larger abrasion, specifically one that was grazed.
And it covered a large area, more so than what a scratch would.
Upon seeing it, Amity's eyes were wide. Her grip on Rion tightened perceptively and it caused the blonde to call the brunette's name as a way of getting the other Gryffindor to loosen her hold as it created a different sort of pain and in a different area on Rion's body.
Amity did, and once she heard the approach of footsteps her head whipped around like that of a predator having caught the scent of prey. Eyes of melted gold turned solid and sharp in an instant once she saw who it was.
It was Lionel, the source of this situation, with Monica following close behind.
Even though it appeared that way on the surface, the expressions that the two were brandishing were different in an almost inconceivable way.
With a voice that communicated a careful sense of worry, Lionel said, "Is she all right?"
"You. . ." Amity glared with a fierce glint at the Slytherin. "This is all your doing!"
"My doing?" Lionel sounded affronted, as if he had a right to be in any way offended by Amity's accurate accusation. "I was trying to stop her."
The brunette laughed at the outright lie. "'Tried to stop her'? Did you? Because, from what it actually looked like, you were trying to encourage her to do it and then forced her yourself when she refused!"
She then stole a glance over Lionel's shoulder, locking gazes with a set of blue-greys. "Reid, you were there. What really happened?"
Monica opened her mouth to reply only to clamp it shut once Lionel had also peeked over his shoulder, the conversation going on between the two friends going unheard by everyone else around them.
William, having seen the appearance of two familiar figures beyond the sea of the other first-years behind him, looked at Amity imploringly. "Quinnell."
Her voice came out defensive. "What?"
"What happened?"
The voice belonged to Edgar who was currently sprinting across the field with Fianna fast at his heels. Expressions of concern and worry were plainly contorting their features. When they got close enough to the group congregated around Rion, Edgar immediately started questioning the other children as to what had happened while he was gone.
Fianna crouched down to the ground near Rion's head. In low, hushed voices the woman, Amity and William spoke to each other, whatever they were saying drowned out by the louder voices of everyone else around them.
Slowly, Fianna nodded her head while her eyes flitted from one child to the other whenever they spoke. Her face showed her growing understanding from the information given by the children.
"I thought I told every one of you that you were supposed to be careful—though, I shouldn't have left you all by yourselves to begin with. So, perhaps this is purely my fault."
A hand was then placed on Edgar's shoulder and he whipped his head around so his silvery grey irises met the unique purplish-blue of the Gamekeeper.
"Edgar, I think our priorities currently lie with getting Rion to the infirmary."
Said man inhaled deeply and then exhaled that same breath. "You're right, Fianna. You're right."
The adults made their way to Rion's side who was already trying to get herself to her feet with Amity holding on tightly to prevent her movements.
"Rion, lie down and wait for Instructor Talbot and Professor Alden."
"I can go to the infirmary on my own. It's only a small wound."
"Yeah and it hurts, right?"
"A little," said Rion, her voice small and almost meek.
At the sound of it, Amity wanted to take her anger and frustration out on the source of this entire situation but she managed to hold it back. Especially when William, who seemed to know this, silently implored her once more to keep calm.
The brunette Gryffindor released a mild huff in response.
Just as Rion got to her feet, after shaking off Amity's grip with a gentle firmness, the girl found herself being swept up and into someone's arms without so much as a word of warning.
With wide eyes and hands clenched into fists, Rion went rigid and looking very much alike one of the still-figure pictures that belonged to Muggles. When she allowed her eyes to look up, the face of Fianna was what she saw.
The woman smiled reassuringly, her hold kind and secure. "I'm going to take you to see the matron, all right?"
Rion nodded, a sense of awe welling up within her at Fianna's strength. "Okay."
After bidding everyone goodbye, the Gamekeeper marched across the field to enter the castle and make her way to where the infirmary was located. From over her shoulder, Rion heard and watched as Edgar dismissed his students which deemed them extra time of rest before their next class was to begin.
Inside an unfamiliar room, Rion sat upon one of the beds as an unfamiliar woman assessed the wound on her knee. The woman's gaze was keen and methodical, and her touch was exceedingly gentle as she moved it this way and that.
Hair the very colour of shining flaxen was neatly styled atop her head with some strands having strayed from their confinement to frame the smooth contours of her face. And her eyes communicated the same gentleness as her touch in their pale yellow irises.
Fianna stood off to the side, watching silently with her arms loosely crossed in front of her chest.
The infirmary was a big room, which was to be expected given the fact it was supposed to house those that had been injured in some fashion just like Rion, with many beds spread evenly apart on both sides. The headboards were positioned up against the walls with some white cloth that served to provide privacy to the beds' occupants attached to a silver rod above.
Further into the room and directly opposed the only way in and out was a small desk that no doubt belonged to whoever was the current matron of the school. Little trinkets and knick-knacks could be seen taking space on the surface along with a small pile of papers that were needed for something that Rion was indeed unsure of.
Many cabinets that held all sorts of medical supplies could be seen near the desk and taking up more space of the huge, expansive area. The generous amount of windows on the walls allowed the light from outside to illuminate the interior graciously.
The matron ceased her assessment and, with a friendly smile sent in Rion's direction, got up from where she had been seated on the edge of the bed.
Her voice was kind as she said, "This is an easy fix, it is. All it needs is a spot of dittany and your knee will be as right as rain."
She walked over to one of the aforementioned cabinets and after collecting an item from it soon began making her way back with a bottle in hand.
The bottle in question had some sort of plant material inside of it, and Rion squinted her eyes as it came closer as if doing that could help her determine what exactly said material was.
When the matron returned, she began to collect and then spread the material over Rion's wound with the same gentleness she had exhibited while examining the injury. Not a sound escaped the Gryffindor girl but her face contorted to show that she felt pain at the ministrations the woman was conducting.
An apologetic smile was given to the girl. "I'm sorry, Miss Winters. But I have to do this so the dittany can do its. . . magic, so to say."
Once she was done, the matron lightly patted Rion's other knee. "Now, give it about a day and you'll be as good as new."
Bright emeralds looked at her covered wound. She moved it left to right as if to check and see if the movement would hurt at all. When it didn't, Rion's signature smile lit up her features.
She looked over at the woman with the same smile. "Thank you, ma'am! It feels better already!"
A blush of absolute happiness and gratitude took hold of the woman's face. "Thank you, Miss Winters. I'm glad that I could help in any way."
"Excellent work as always, Carilyn," said Fianna after coming over to inspect the newly coated knee. "Dittany really is the gift that just keeps on giving, isn't it?"
Carilyn Sweeting brandished a happy smile. "Thank you, Profess—Fianna, I mean. I'm sorry, I keep forgetting you're not my professor anymore."
"It's perfectly all right, Carilyn. You can call me professor, after all, I still address the headmistress like that."
"That's true. To me, you'll always be my professor."
"You alone, it seems. The others refer to me as 'Fianna' instead, which kind of makes me sad but also makes me happy since it sounds like I'm not as old as I actually am."
"Well, for all it is, you're not that old, Professor Alden."
"You really are very kind, Carilyn. Once a Hufflepuff, always a Hufflepuff."
"You flatter me, Professor."
Fianna's words on feeling old caused Rion to blink, the girl having remained silent while listening intensely to the women's amiable conversation.
With a hesitant yet unquestionably inquisitive voice, Rion asked, "How old are you, Professor Alden?"
"Oh, my age really doesn't matter but. . . I have been a professor ever since your parents were students here, so take that however you will."
Rion looked up toward the ceiling as though she'd find the answer scrawled along it.
The sound of the infirmary door opening garnered the attention of the trio who all glanced over simultaneously to see the person that had committed the action. The one in question was none other than Amity, the girl not alone as she was flanked by her sisters.
Moving a little bit as if to get up from her bed, Rion was promptly stopped with a gentle hand placed on her shoulder by Sweeting. The blonde Gryffindor's voice was still full of happiness as she shouted, "Am, Ser, Ver! You came to see me!"
"Of course we did," came Amity's matter-of-fact voice.
Serenity hurried further into the room, and as Amity and Verity followed after at a slower pace, Rion could see that there was another person among the trio that made the group a quartet. Her bright emeralds shined as soon as they landed on his figure.
Once Amity made it to Rion's bedside, the former said, "How is it?"
There was no need for clarification as to what she was inquiring about.
Rion smiled. "It doesn't hurt anymore, all thanks to Madam Sweeting."
Sweeting's face communicated her happiness at the girl's genuine praise. "You're too sweet, Miss Winters."
The sound of approaching footsteps brought everyone's attention to the owner of them.
One happy shout was enough to break the silence that had appeared. "Will! You came, too!"
When William arrived along with everyone else, he said, "I wanted to see how you were doing."
"I'm doing great," said Rion, and she maneuvered her way off the bed so her feet made contact with the infirmary's floor. With her arms held out on either side of her, she then said, "See? Good as new."
"In about a day, Miss Winters," Sweeting reminded the girl.
Fianna jolted as if hit by a sense of realization. "Ah, right. Children."
Upon gathering said students' attention, the professor continued by saying: "This lovely lady over here is the matron of our school: Carilyn Sweeting."
Said woman smiled, lifting a hand to slowly wave it at the kids. "Hello, everyone. It's nice to meet you. Thank goodness it's not under other circumstances, alike how I met Miss Winters."
On cue, a sheepish smile rose to Rion's face as her shoulders lifted a bit.
"You're young looking, Madam Sweeting," noted Serenity, leaning a bit close to the woman in question. "How old are you?"
Sweeting was noticeably taken by surprise by the girl's words. "Oh, I'm not that old. Let's just say I've been at Hogwarts for twenty years now."
"Twenty years. . ." the words left Fianna in a disbelieving voice. "I keep feeling older every time years are brought up in conversation."
Instantly, Rion pivoted on her heel so she was now looking at Sweeting. Her eyes were shining once more. "Madam Sweeting, if you've been here for twenty years, does that mean you knew my parents?"
Sweeting was confused. "Your parents?"
Once realization set in, the woman exclaimed with great shock, "Magnus and Constance's daughter! That's you!"
Rion brandished a blinding smile. "Yeah, that's me!"
"I feel like that would've been obvious," came Serenity's voice.
"It's only obvious for us because we've known her for a really long time," offered Verity.
Serenity was quiet for a moment and then: "That's true."
"Miss Winters. How could I have not put two and two together?" the matron covered her face with her hands and lowered her head, obviously distraught by her inability to recognize who the blonde Gryffindor was related to. "I feel so stupid. . ."
"Don't worry, Madam Sweeting," said Rion who approached the woman in question to lightly pat her knee, similarly to how the latter had done to the former. "I'm not very good at putting two and two together, either."
"I don't believe that's lifted my spirits any, Miss Winters. . ."
Rion smiled, unsure of what to say now.
Just then there was a resonating sound in the air that startled the occupants inside the infirmary.
In particular, Fianna turned her head so her eyes looked out one of the windows as if she could see just where the sound was originating from. Rion quickly made her way over to the door, the sensation in her knee nothing but phantom pain. She was soon followed by the Quinnell sisters and William who all stood behind her to peer out at the corridor once Rion had opened the door.
Students could be seen hurriedly making their way from left to right and vice versa, signaling that the sound from before had been the sign for everyone to get to their next class.
Thinking it best to now leave, Rion glanced over her shoulder to lock eyes with Fianna and then Sweeting. She gave the women her signature smile. "Bye, Professor Alden, Madam Sweeting. Thank you for helping me, I really appreciate it."
Sweeting smiled back, one of her hands coming to wave slowly as a blush of happiness coloured her features once more.
Fianna grinned, her heels making clacking sounds against the floor. "Anything to help a student—though, I'd like to give some advice if I may, Rion?"
"Yeah?"
Pausing in her steps, the professor leaned down a bit so she was as close to making clear eye contact as possible with the girl. "Don't be so quick to go along with whatever another person says or does, especially if it's obviously a bad idea. All right?"
The redhead lightly tapped Rion's forehead, and the girl smiled in a sheepish manner while lifting her shoulders up a bit.
"Yes, Professor Alden."
"That's all I can ask for."
Night had fallen once more across Scotland.
While most people were fast asleep during these hours, some animals were awake and wandering around the land. In particular, from within the shadows that covered the interior of the Forbidden Forest, a sound like that of a twig snapping under a large weight broke the peaceful silence. The perpetrator of the noise was none other than a deer, specifically a doe, who looked around her surroundings as if disoriented and unaware of where she was.
Without a hint of warning, a hand appeared from the darkness behind her and wrapped its fingers around her neck. Promptly, the doe was yanked back out of the dim light that the moon above was providing to those down below.
Silence permeated the atmosphere once more. . . and the doe was never seen coming back out.
A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day.