2.
"It doesn't look so bad," Thess told herself in the mirror, as she did every morning while brushing her teeth. In truth, it looked pretty badass, but she wasn't quite ready to admit that yet.
The scar that Madam Pomfrey had mentioned was a horizontal line splitting her nose down the middle. Thicker in the center, tapering off at the edges. It gave her a rather intimidating look—and if you wanted to be a professional Quidditch player, that was exactly the image you wanted to project.
"Hurry up," Rosie said, poking her head through the bathroom door. "You're going to be late."
"Almost done."
Rosie stepped in when she saw what Thess was doing. "It looks great, I've told you."
"I know. That's the problem."
Though it was clear the nurse had put in a lot of effort to make her nose look as close to the original as possible, she had inadvertently made it "better." Perfectly symmetrical and much more proportional to her face. Thess had never been unattractive, and her nose was... well, functional. But the girl she now saw in the mirror wouldn't have had so much trouble finding a date for the Yule Ball.
"Something similar happened to my mum at school," Rosie said, leaning against the sink with crossed arms.
"Really?"
"Yeah, with her front teeth."
"Your mum has a beautiful smile."
"Exactly, but you should see her childhood photos. She looked like an Angora rabbit."
"You shouldn't make fun of your mum, especially since you're basically a redheaded clone of her."
"Your nose looks fine, now floss and let's go."
Thess had made sure to say goodbye to the nurse the day before and even gave her a gift—an essential oils kit she'd made herself in Potions class. She wasn't sure if Madam Pomfrey would like it, not knowing her that well, but judging by how emotional she'd gotten, Thess figured she'd done a good job. The Headmistress had also received a cat collar with a bell. She hadn't found it funny, but she hadn't returned it either.
Now, all that was left was to finish packing and catch the train.
The Gryffindor Tower was once again crowded with students and their trunks, making it even harder to move around. Many classmates stopped them along the way to say their goodbyes, some even asking for selfies.
After making sure she hadn't left anything behind and navigating the traffic to the train station just in time to see the Hogwarts Express pull in, spewing steam and smoke everywhere, the two friends finally sat down, using their trunks as seats.
"How do you feel?" Rosie asked.
"I don't know," Thess replied.
"Yeah, I get it. I'll miss this place too. It's the same every year—while I'm here, I miss home, but before the holidays are over, I'm already missing Hogwarts. Well, now there's no turning back."
"What was it like?" Thess asked.
"What?"
"Spending the holidays at home."
Thess wasn't the only orphan at Hogwarts. After the war, there were at least forty, and the school had set up a holiday exchange program. Technically, she had somewhere to go, but she'd never wanted to stay with the Notts. They hadn't argued against her decision either. Over the years, Thess had visited many interesting places—Brazil, the United States, even Japan—so she had no complaints.
"Look, I've been thinking..." Rosie began.
"Thanks, but no," Thess interrupted, guessing what was coming next.
"I'm serious," Rosie said. "My parents would love you. The Weasleys are famous for being welcoming."
"I have somewhere to go," Thess said, half-truthfully. Someone was waiting for her in London, but there were no guarantees. If things didn't work out, she had enough money for a few nights at the Leaky Cauldron.
"Who?" Rosie pressed.
"Look," Thess said, holding her friend's hand to calm her, "I'll be fine."
Rosie sighed. The whistle blew, and they boarded the train.
On the journey back to London, the whole team crammed into a single compartment. The door had to be left open, and Spinet ended up sitting in the corridor, uncomfortable but happy.
"So, Wood," said Howard, taking a sip of pumpkin juice to wash away the taste of dirty socks, "did you see they named that maneuver after you?"
"Oh yeah, the 'Wyrmwood Maneuver.' Pretty cool, right?" Spinet said, hesitantly reaching for the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans box in Howard's hand.
They were playing a game: whoever got a tasty bean had to spend seven minutes in heaven with Moaning Myrtle. The atmosphere was tense with anticipation.
"And of course," Thess added, leaning forward, "they immediately banned it from official games."
Everyone waited anxiously for Spinet's reaction as he eyed the bean. Any grimace would indicate he'd drawn the 'prize.'
Spinet chewed slowly, showing no initial reaction. The tension mounted until he finally spat the bean out into the corridor.
"Never had one of those before."
"What was it?" Rosie asked curiously.
"I'd rather not say," Spinet replied, passing the box to Moore as the others laughed.
"That just makes it even more amazing," said Heathfield, returning to the earlier topic. "You'll be the only person to have pulled off that maneuver in a game."
"Almost the last thing I ever did," Thess said with a tired smile. "Did anyone see who cast the protection spell?"
The others shrugged, while Moore, without a word, got up to spit his bean out the window.
"What was it?" Spinet asked.
"Onion," Moore replied, making a face.
"Too bad," said Medcraft, grabbing the box. "I like onion."
"And what about the spell? You don't know who it was?" Rosie asked, bringing the conversation back to the point.
"I have my suspicions," Thess replied.
Howard, trying to lighten the mood, said, "You still got the speed record, something that'll take a while to beat."
"And on a Cleansweep," Moore added with a grin.
"The look on Scorpius's face as he fell behind was the best," Spinet remarked, laughing.
"By the way," Moore interrupted, looking directly at Thess, "Wyrmwood is a pretty cool name. Why didn't you ever tell us about that?"
An awkward silence fell over the group. Howard, sensing the discomfort, elbowed Moore in the ribs, who gave an apologetic look.
Medcraft, trying to change the subject, chewed on a bean and then shoved a whole chocolate frog into his mouth.
"What was it?" Rosie asked, breaking the silence.
"Snot," Medcraft replied with a shrug.
"And why didn't you spit it out?" Spinet asked, confused.
"Because that would've been gross."
"Have you gotten any offers, Wood?" Medcraft asked quickly, steering the conversation.
"I heard the Harpies' coach has her eye on you," Howard said, looking excited.
"I've heard that too," Thess said casually.
"Man," said Moore, laughing, "it's going to be awesome seeing you play for the Harpies."
"Who knows," Thess murmured with a half-smile.
Medcraft, offering the box to Rosie, asked, "Want one, Captain?"
"I'm not a fan of ghosts," she said, referring to Moaning Myrtle.
"In that case, you can keep Howard," Spinet joked, winking at her.
Howard blushed instantly, turning as red as a traffic light. The group burst into laughter.
Rosie, with a mischievous grin, picked a bean from the box. Everyone leaned in, waiting for her reaction.
She chewed, paused briefly, and smiled. "Cigarette."
The compartment erupted in laughter as some of the players playfully patted Howard on the back. But Thess, ever the observer, noticed that Rosie had swallowed without hesitation.
"My turn," Thess said, reaching for the box.
