THREADING VINES
Words are but the leaves of the tree. The real fruit is meaning and understanding.
– Khalil Gibran
Padma was trying to concentrate on her homework – her eyes firmly glued to the pages of her textbook. The Fundamentals of Material Manipulation in Transfiguration; Professor McGonagall had said to read the first three chapters.
"Transfiguration is the art of transformation and change; but no two transfigurations are the same, for no two materials are the same. Nature has found countless ways to arrange itself, and each arrangement interacts uniquely with magical energy and intent.
Wood and stone, born of earth's endless patience, respond eagerly to magic. Wood remembers how to change, for it once was a seed and grew to spread itself against the heavens. Stone, born in the fiery crucible beneath the depths and shaped by millennia of shifting tides and tumbling rivers, carries within it the memory of transformation.
Yet those orderly and rigid materials of crystal and metal show a level of reluctance, resisting the call of magic. For though some may resonate with magic; they are pure and wish to remain as they are. Their structure—precise and unyielding—demands both care and power to shift. The aspiring Transfigurist must approach such materials with surgical precision...
The words blurred across the page. Padma pushed the book away, her mouth twisting as if she'd bitten into something sour.
"This isn't working." She muttered, crossing her arms on the table.
Hermione glanced up from her parchment, quill hovering mid-air. "What?"
"This." Padma motioned toward the book with a jerk of her chin.
Hermione exchanged a look with Sue, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. A silent exchange followed – a raised brow from Hermione, a shrug from the petite girl. The smaller girl stared pointedly between the two. Hermione stiffened, a frown pulling at her lips. Sue made a motion with her head and Hermione shook hers back. The tension in Padma's chest coiled tighter, like a spring stretched too far.
"If the two of you have something to say, just spit it out." Padma groused, her voice clipped, not even looking at them; she didn't need to after all.
"Fine," Hermione exhaled sharply, her quill clicking as she set it down. She fiddled with the corner of her book, chewing on her lips before speaking.
"You should just talk to him, you miss him." Hermione spoke slowly, her tone neutral.
Padma opened her mouth to say something and stopped. The tension snapped and she deflated. She leaned into her chair, staring blankly at the far wall.
"He doesn't seem to want to talk to me." She said at last, her voice quiet and resigned.
"Well what did you expect?" Sue wondered, leaning forward. "You've been avoiding him." The petite witch turned to Hermione; "You know she ducked into a broom closet the other day, I didn't know why until Hadrian came around the corner."
Hermione stared incredulously at the dark skinned Ravenclaw. Padma's cheeks flushed and she ducked her head. "I didn't mean to!" she blurted out, the words coming in a rush. "I just – panicked okay." Padma said helplessly.
Sue's lips twitched, but she held her tongue. Hermione frowned, leaning closer. "This can't be just about the letters." She said carefully.
"Even if you don't believe him about the elf." Hermione reasoned, meeting Padma's eyes.
"Elf?" Sue asked looking between the two, but neither girl paid her mind and she rolled her eyes in slight irritation. She would find out eventually.
"Maybe you're right." Padma offered.
"I know I am." Hermione folded her arms, her tone firm but not unkind.
Hermione remembered the argument on the train; Parvati had looked ready to start firing spells. Things were far from simple. She knew this and tried to convey it with her eyes, holding Padma's own, steady and unyielding.
Padma looked at Hermione then, truly looked, and the muggleborn suppressed a shiver – Padma had beautiful eyes, Hermione could readily admit that. But the other girl's eyes always seemed to see more, to see right through her. Still she wasn't about to back down. Padma sighed, leaning her chin against her hand.
"You started avoiding him first and you two are so stubborn it's no wonder you keep staring at each other but won't actually talk." Hermione's voice rose drawing attention from the other tables.
"Sorry." She turned, waving off a sixth year Hufflepuff who was glowering at them; the older witch girl made a shushing sign.
"I know there's stuff between you and Hadrian I'm not privy to..." Hermione whispered, her voice cracked slightly.
"Mione." Padma threaded her fingers with the Gryffindor and squeezed; she felt her then a roiling cloud of emotion; embarrassment, irritation, anxiety – but beneath it all was a silver thread, a band of steely determination.
"I'm fine with that." Hermione spoke slowly. "But that's not my point. You're not you when the two of you are fighting. You've been slacking off your homework so much."
Padma couldn't help it, a giggle burst out of her throat. Of course Hermione would choose to focus on her academics. Padma shook her head in amusement. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped. Sounds faded into the background as a presence prickled at her awareness – familiar and getting closer.
"Hey is something wrong?" Sue asked, noticing the other girl go stiff.
Padma turned accusing eyes at Hermione. The bushy haired girl, jutted her chin stubbornly. But Padma could see, feel, beyond the surface, the other girl was wracked with guilt.
Padma's gaze flickered upward just as footsteps approached, hesitant and uneven and shuffled to a stop just beyond their desk. A throat cleared —
Manic orange nervous.
"Can we talk?" earnest green eyes fixed their attention on her, their depths glimmering. "Please."
She looked at him then, eyes drinking him in. His hair was a mess, his fingers were ink-stained, and faint shadows beneath his eyes betrayed restless nights.
Her lips parted, but no sound came. A beat passed and her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. "Alright." she heard herself finally say.
Relief washed over his face, his shoulders slumped, his hand loosened its vice over the strap of his book bag. Chairs scraped against the floor as Hermione stood, pulling Sue up with her.
"We'll give you some privacy." Hermione said quickly, voice injected with lightness. Hermione gave Padma a significant look before she disappeared beyond the shelves.
Hadrian slid into the chair across from Padma, his back stiff, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He opened his mouth, shut it and then dragged a hand through his hair.
"Umm..." Padma prompted.
"I'm sorry." Hadrian blurted out and Padma snapped her mouth shut.
"I'm sorry," he said once more, resolute. "I shouldn't have brushed you off that time – or avoided you." he grimaced, sucking on his teeth.
"Why did you?" she asked, looking at him behind her lashes.
He didn't answer for a few moments. His jaw clenched, the muscles twitching under his skin. "I was being stupid." He admitted, voice strained. "After the mirror… Quirrel – it was just so...and I –" he broke off, massaging his brow with pads of his fingers.
"You're not making sense." Padma said, irritation bleeding into her voice.
"I know – I suck at this." His gaze darted away, his hands curling into fists.
Padma felt something twist in her chest as she regarded the situation. Hadrian and her had been fast friends; talking had come so easy, this was foreign territory for them, for her. She could feel him, even with her necklace muting her power, he always shone to her senses. She could feel his jitters, the anxiety and doubt gnawing at him, his anger, targeted inward, simmering at the edge of her perception.
"Maybe..." she stopped, startled as he turned sharply to face her. His green eyes sparked with something steely. She could feel him sweep away the doubt and anger with a sharp determination.
"Here." he said thrusting his hands forward.
She looked at the hand in front of her; his fingers were long and thin, nimble. She looked back at him, something bubbled in her gut.
"Now you want to take my hand?" she drew back to regard him and scoffed. He grimaced but his eyes never left her, his hands never moved. She felt her resolve waver; she had wanted this, hadn't she? Then why hesitate? She was afraid – afraid of letting go. She looked into his eyes, steady and sure. She drew on him, feeling herself fill with his own determination. She reached for his hands and the world faded around her.
Steel gray – determination. Pale blue anxiety. Soft warm yellow hope. Deep sombre blue grey regret. It whirled around her, twisting and pulled her along. Her vision returned with a haze and she saw the dining hall, yet the details were muted and lacking colour except for one point; a girl with skin the colour of coffee and hair dark and long. With a jolt Padma realised she was looking at herself. A well of longing filled her and overwhelmed her.
She gasped and her eyes flew open. Golden met concerned green eyes. Padma quickly looked around, she was still in the library, still holding onto him, her grip tight.
"What?" Padma blinked, trying to understand what had just happened. That was a vision – no, a memory. His memory of me. But how?
"I was an idiot," Hadrian was talking, oblivious to her inner turmoil. "I was jealous and angry, after the mirror. You weren't affected and I was..."
"It was enchanted and my powers shielded me, you know that." She shook her head confused. "Why would you be jealous of that." Her voice grew, anger seeping through. She made to pull her hand back, but Hadrian held fast.
"Wait! I know that, but I felt stupid okay. You just brushed it off and me? I wasn't sleeping, I could hear it in my ear, every moment, when I closed my eyes." He said, his voice soft and trembling.
"I shouldn't have felt that; I shouldn't have been angry or jealous of you, you didn't do anything. I didn't want you to know; so I..."
"You ran away." She finished.
"Yes." His head dipped, his voice a murmur. "I'm sorry."
Padma gently tugged her hand away and Hadrian didn't stop her. He wasn't looking at her anymore, his eyes looking at the grain of the desk. Padma felt her own hurt bubble up in her. When he had started avoiding her, she hadn't known what she had done. It had not been the first time that someone had been freaked out by her abilities; choosing to avoid her to spare themselves the embarrassment.
"My grandmother once told me that people would never like that I could see into them, as they are." she spoke quietly.
"I didn't want my feelings to hurt you, for me to hurt you." Hadrian spoke slowly, his voice cracking. She knew what he meant and he was saying the truth but...
"You were afraid; afraid of what I would say." She said her voice growing stronger as she unravelled the knot of tension buried in him.
When she spoke the words, Hadrian looked at her, eyes wide and afraid and then he seemed to crumble, slumping into his seat.
"Yes." His hands curled into fists, so tight they shook, his knuckles turning white.
"You are – were the first friend I ever made," he said, his voice cracking. "Not Dudley's friends who just did it cause of him. Or kids I went to spelling bees with. The ones who just wanted to copy my homework." He was speaking quickly, urgently, the words tumbling out, she could hardly keep up.
"I didn't want you to think I didn't..."
Her throat tightened and she reached for his trembling hand and he stopped talking. His eyes were red, glittering. She squeezed his hand and she grabbed her energy, from that warm spot just under her heart and fed it through her hands to him; warm, soft green calm, fuzzy safe blue. She pushed and willed it into him, willed him to calm his hammering heart, willed it to quiet his trembling hands.
"I didn't have friends growing up too, just my sister. People don't like it when I can read them." She wound her fingers around his, tugging and pulling at the digits.
"Then I met you and you weren't afraid, you thought it was cool." She said softly.
"It is." He squeezed her hands, voice firm. "Terrifying but cool."
Padma half chuckled and sniffed, holding back a sob. "Yea it is." She agreed and then raised up their joined hands, putting them eye level.
"You're my best friend." She too gave him a squeeze for emphasis, "I need you to promise me, that you'll always talk to me, maybe not like this, but that we will always talk. Okay?" she bit her lips, her golden eyes glimmering.
"Yea, I promise." He said solemnly. "Even when I'm being stupid." He offered her a grin.
"Especially then." She giggled and Hadrian followed suit.
Soon the laughs died off, leaving them light. Padma traced her fingers across the back of Hadrian's hands, following the dips and bumps of his veins.
"Your hands are a mess." She said, her voice softer now.
Hadrian blinked, as though just realising it. "Oh! I almost forgot!" He yanked his hands away, diving into his bag with an unexpected urgency. His arm, elbow deep, disappeared into its depths as he muttered under his breath. Padma watched with a quiet bemusement.
"I almost forgot – aha. This is for you." He pulled out a slim book and handed it to her – the cover shimmered faintly in the library's low light, a soft marigold with delicate silver filigree coiling around a pale lotus blossom in the centre.
Padma's breath hitched. She took the book reverently; cool leather met her touch and she traced over the delicate designs. She gasped in delight as a faint hum of magic rippled across her fingers, like the warmth of sunlight after a cold breeze.
"It's beautiful." She whispered breathily. She opened it carefully, the scent of parchment mingling with the static of magic. The first page caught her attention immediately. Three small symbols—green, purple and red—shimmered like firelight on water. Again she ran a hand across them and felt them hum under her finger; it felt like they were waiting, for what?
"What do they do?" She asked curiosity burning in her eyes.
Hadrian grinned, a flicker of mischief in his eyes. He reached into his bag and pulled out another book, this one a dark green with white runes drawn on its face. A white owl sat in the centre, wings outstretched.
"Just watch the page." He grabbed his quill, his movements quick and sure, and scribbled something onto the blank page in his book.
She felt her book tremble slightly and glanced down, one of the symbols—the green one— was glowing. Suspicion and wonder danced in her eyes as she touched it, her intent clear; show me.
The page turned and ink seemed to bleed into the page as words, written by a ghost, formed on her page.
We will always be able to talk whenever with this.
Padma stared, her mind working a mile a minute. Her fingers traced the words as if confirming it was real. She had seen this looping handwriting so many times but not like this.
"How?" She asked, the question barely audible.
"I made a rune matrix, it samples, copies and sends a duplicate to a linked matrix." Hadrian said, his tone light but proud. "Look at the designs on the edges."
She looked, carefully this time and she saw them, linked across the front and inside the cover were runes, woven into the pattern of filigree. It was beyond anything she could imagine. She stared at him.
"How long did it take you to make this?" She wondered.
"A few weeks to figure out how to get it to work." He ran a hand across his face tiredly, "There were a few explosions to be honest." He chuckled good naturedly before shrugging, "The etching took a few days." He explained, watching her closely.
"How far does the link go?" She asked quickly.
"The matrix is pretty stable so the school is covered. Beyond that we have to test it, but I'm confident." He shrugged.
"How quickly does it do it?" she asked finally. Hadrian instead of answering just grinned and started to scribble in his book.
Should be pretty fast
The words appeared as he wrote them and she gaped at him and he grinned back, puffing his chest. She shook her head, expression somewhere between disbelief and admiration.
"Hadrian, this is…brilliant." She blurted out.
His smile softened, losing some of its mischief. "You like it?"
"I love it." She hugged the book to her chest, her fingers curling protectively around the edges. The warmth of the magic—his magic—seemed to seep into her, filling the hollow space left by their earlier rift.
"Great, I've made one for Hermione and Neville as well." He pulled out two more books, one a soft purple and the other a deep maroon.
"No damn elf is going to steal my letters again." Hadrian muttered, his eyes darkening briefly.
Padma couldn't help it, her laugh bubbled up before she could stop it, startling a few nearby students. Her shoulders shook, and Hadrian joined in.
Moments later, a stern shushing noise from Madam Pince cut through their mirth, and they were promptly kicked out of the library.
As they stepped into the corridor, Padma clutched the marigold book tightly, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks. "Thank you," she said quietly, meeting his gaze.
Hadrian smiled, his green eyes warm and glimmering. "Always."
The glowing green symbol pulsed faintly as ghostly ink scrawled across the page in Padma's book.
Hadrian:
Alright, we're live. Can everyone see this?
Padma:
Yes, Hadrian. Though you might want to pick a better opening line; makes it sound like a WWN broadcast.
Hermione:
It's working! This is fascinating, Hadrian. What runes did you use to link all four books? Is the rune structure stable enough to handle everyone writing at the same time?
Neville:
HELLO? I THINK MINE IS WORKING? AM I DOING THIS RIGHT?
Padma:
Neville, you're doing fine. Though I'd avoid yelling at the page—you don't need to capitalise everything.
Neville:
Oh, sorry! I wasn't sure how hard to uh… write?
Hadrian:
You're fine, Neville. Just write normally. And Hermione, one question at a time, please.
Hermione:
But I'm curious! The coordination between multiple enchanted objects is remarkable. Did you bind all the books to a shared matrix, or is it a more layered system?
Padma:
It's both, isn't it? You've got the shared matrix keeping us all linked, but the individual runes must act as stabilizers. Otherwise, the messages would jumble.
Hadrian:
Have you been studying? I didn't know you knew that?
Padma:
Ha ha. I can pick up a book you know.
Hermione:
Honestly Hadrian, you talk about runes all the time; we've picked up on some of it.
Neville:
Oh, that's clever. So, um, can we write privately to just one person, or does everyone see everything?
Hadrian:
Individual messaging works normally. That's the default. Setting up a group message like this is trickier—it's more taxing on the runes, and the matrix isn't perfect yet. I'll work on it later.
Neville:
Wait, is there a limit? What happens if we add more books? Do they all get confused?
Hermione:
It's incredible even as it is. Are the stabilizing runes inspired by the ones you showed us for that self-writing quill idea?
Padma:
Neville, I love how your main concern is books getting confused. They're not sentient.
Hadrian:
Yet. Not sentient yet.
Hermione:
Hadrian please don't joke about that, I've watched the Terminator.
Padma:
What's the Terminator.
Neville:
Sounds like a weed spray.
Hadrian:
I think Hermione can explain that.
Hadrian:
To answer your earlier question Nev. Each book has a matrix and can form connections to other registered matrices. For the group chat all the books are connected at the same time, like a net or web. So all the messages bounce through the matrices and appear in all the linked books. We could add more but it won't be stable, unlike just the four.
Padma:
When you say it like that, it makes it all sound so simple.
Hadrian:
Well it would take too long to explain it here. I have some notes though. You're welcome to read them anytime, Padma. Though, fair warning – they're a bit dense.
Padma:
Ah, yes. Nothing says light reading like rune diagrams that look like they're plotting the stars.
Hermione:
I wouldn't mind reading them. Even if I can't keep up with everything, it's fascinating.
Neville:
I'm not sure I'd understand much, but I'd still like to see. This is wicked, Hadrian.
Hadrian:
Thanks, Neville. And don't worry—you're not breaking anything by writing in the book.
Padma:
Speaking of which, how durable are these? Neville's plants might have opinions.
Neville:
Hey!
Hermione:
I bet you he's having a spot of tea right now, after a bit of gardening.
Neville:
Tea is relaxing.
Hadrian:
The books are water-resistant and smudge-proof, so you'll be fine, Neville. But if you dunk one in an entire cauldron, I make no promises.
Hermione:
And what about tampering? Could someone override the matrix or disrupt the runes?
Hadrian:
I would like to see them try. The ones you can see are mostly decorative.
Hermione:
Wait, they are hidden? You can do that?
Hadrian:
Yea, it's how most artificers protect their stuff. Plus if someone did manage it, the runes are designed to shut down if someone tries to modify them. Worst case, the book goes blank until I fix it.
Padma:
Drat. So, no cursed books exploding ink everywhere? A missed opportunity. Guess you're safe Nev.
Neville:
That's good to know. Though I wouldn't mind a book that explodes on purpose. Imagine how useful that'd be for Defence. Or books that grow teeth. I think that'd be worse.
Padma:
Neville, you're just full of ideas today.
Hadrian:
You might be onto something there Nev. Imagine chucking an exploding book at Snape.
Hermione:
Focus everyone. Hadrian, you said this a basic version. What else were you thinking of adding?
Hadrian:
Well maybe storing messages? Cause right now once you fill the pages it just overwrites everything. Maybe sending a message later, I dunno, I haven't thought that far ahead.
Padma:
Doodles. Don't forget the doodles.
Hadrian:
Padma, no. This is not a sketchbook.
Padma:
But it could be. Imagine sending Neville little drawings of plants to cheer him up.
Neville:
I'd like that.
Hermione:
What about copying a page from a textbook, like a scanner.
Padma:
Hermione, do you want to steal books from the library? Who knew you had it in you.
Hermione:
No! What are you thinking? It's for academic collaboration.
Padma:
We see through you Mione.
Hadrian:
I don't know; that stuff would require a lot of work. I wouldn't just be tweaking the matrix.
Padma:
The basic version is still brilliant. Its instant magical communication that doesn't need you to stuff your head into the fireplace.
Neville:
The Floo is killer on the knees, I get bruises.
Hadrian:
You're an old soul Nev.
Neville:
Thanks?
Hermione:
I've been making a list.
Hadrian:
What for?
Hermione:
Applications silly, keep up.
1. Academic collaboration
2. Auror fieldwork
3. Office communication
4. International communication?
Padma:
Still holding onto the academic collaboration huh?
Hermione:
It's important!
Padma:
And fieldwork really? What about something like passing notes in class?
Hermione:
That's hardly its most meaningful use!
Neville:
I think notes are a good idea. It's practical. Imagine how much easier Potions would be if Hermione could tell me what I'm doing wrong from across the class.
Padma:
Neville, you're not wrong. Though, Snape would probably confiscate them the second he saw one.
Hadrian:
Let's not put that to the test. These took me weeks to make.
Neville:
I'm surprised Hermione hasn't asked for a function to keep schedules or track tasks, like a planner or similar.
Padma:
Neville, you've just made Hermione's day.
Hermione:
Neville, that's brilliant. Hadrian, can you imagine the academic uses? No more forgetting assignments or deadlines.
Padma:
Hermione, you never forget.
Hermione:
That doesn't mean I wouldn't find it useful.
Hadrian:
These are all great ideas, but you're getting ahead of yourselves. This is the beta version, remember? Let me make sure that they don't blow up first.
Padma:
Right. Sorry about that, we are just excited is all.
Hermione:
Yea, these are splendid. What do we call these, anyway? MailBooks works, I suppose, but it's not particularly imaginative.
Padma:
Not imaginative? It's boring. We can do better.
Hadrian:
What's wrong with MailBooks? It's simple and says what they do.
Padma:
Exactly the problem. It's too literal. Where's the flair? The mystery?
Hermione:
We don't need flair. We need clarity. Something like "Magical Communication Books" would work.
Padma:
Hermione, that's even worse. You've managed to make it sound like a Ministry pamphlet.
Neville:
How about something plant-themed? Like "The Whispering Vines"?
Padma:
Now that has personality.
Hadrian:
You're all overthinking this. It doesn't need a fancy name. It's just a tool.
Padma:
"Just a tool"? Hadrian, this is your first enchanted item, and you want to call it "just a tool"? Really?
Hermione:
Padma's right. Even if it's functional, people will remember it better with a good name.
Neville:
What about "QuillBooks"?
Padma:
Better, but I prefer your earlier suggestion. Whispering Vines.
Hadrian:
Whispering Vines makes it sound like a spell for talking to flowers.
Padma:
And that's a bad thing because…?
Hermione:
Let's settle this logically. The name with the most votes wins.
Hadrian:
Or we can leave it undecided and just keep testing the books like we're supposed to.
Padma:
Where's the fun in that?
Neville:
Hadrian, you're not really going to ignore the naming, are you?
Hadrian:
Fine. We can call the group message 'Whispering Vines'. But if someone asks me why I'm naming things after plants, I'm blaming all of you.
Padma:
I'll take full credit, thanks.
Hermione:
Thank you for including us in this, Hadrian. This is so exciting!
Padma:
And what's next. You've set the bar high now, genius.
Neville:
Yeah, this is brilliant. Thanks, Hadrian.
Hadrian:
You're welcome. Just don't break them. Or water them.
Padma:
Or let Hermione lecture them.
Hermione:
Padma!
Padma:
Kidding. Mostly.
Hadrian:
Alright, conversation over. I need to update the runes so you can argue about the names later.
Padma:
We'll never stop arguing, Hadrian. That's half the fun.
Bethseda leaned back in her chair, balancing it on its two back legs. She swung her legs, and the chair hit the floor with a quiet thud. She leaned back again, lifting off and repeated the motion.
"You're going to fall." Septimus said, not even looking up.
"I'm bored." Bethseda confessed, before abruptly getting up. She stretched, groaning as she felt her bones pop. She decided to stretch her legs by walking around the room.
Septima's office was a reflection of the Arithmancy professor – neat and full of odd instruments. Clear crystals, cut in complex geometric shapes. Bronze protractors and weights. Bethseda honestly did not know how many rulers Septima needed; Arithmancy was just math. She snorted quietly and picked up a bronze receptacle – if Septima heard her call her chosen field just math, there would be spells exchanged.
"Please put that down." came the sharp voice from the desk. Bethseda quickly put the container down; she never liked it when Septima used her 'Professor voice' on her. Septima looked up, her pale eyes peering at her over the metallic frames of her glasses.
Bethseda made her way round the desk and perched herself onto the corner. The wood creaked but held. Septima shoot her friend a dry look before she scoffed and hunched back down.
"Well?" Bethseda prodded.
Septima leaned back and took off her glasses. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and pursed her lips.
"I'll need more time." Septima offered and quickly raised a hand to stop the inevitable childish response. "I've had a long day – the Weasley twins were trying to enchant the chairs."
Bethseda opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. She shook her head; they had all had to get through a day when the twins were being inventive.
For a few moments the two friends sat in silence; the late afternoon light lending the room a warm glow, faint motes of dust dancing on the air. The sound of parchment drew Bethseda's attention – Septima was re-examining the parchment, a faint frown pulling at her brow. Her eyes flit across the vellum, tracing the intricate looping patterns of runes.
"This is Hadrian's?" she asked, not for the first time. The faintest hint of tension undercut her even tone.
"Mm-hmm." Bethseda hummed, fighting off a smile. "I knew you'd want to see it. I tried analysing it myself, but... well." Her lips quirked.
"Your Arithmancy is shit." Septima said glibly.
"Ha ha. Rude much." Bethseda blew a raspberry at the other woman. "You're the expert, tell me what you think."
Septima huffed softly, brushing a strand of flaxen hair out of her face. "Calling it a rabbit hole would be an understatement. This thing looks like it was designed by someone trying to impress a particularly judgmental examiner." A pale eye peered up but Bethseda just smiled innocently.
"Over-engineered, half-redundant..." Septima tapped one particularly dense section. "And this? This doesn't even need to be here."
Bethseda chuckled under her breath. "He's twelve."
"That much is obvious." Septima leaned back, crossing her arms. "It would work. That's the maddening thing – Merlin knows why he decided to construct it this way. It's like building a bridge with three extra layers of scaffolding just in case."
"I know it works." Bethseda said rolling her eyes. "I helped him test it after all – got a neat little book out of it." the runes professor turned to her friend. "I could ask him to make you one, as a favour, it is dead useful, plus I actually need someone to talk to."
Septima paid the younger professor no mind and her gaze returned to the parchment, lines creasing her brow. She traced one of the lines with a fingertip, her mind already breaking it down. Numbers whispered in her thoughts, patterns surfacing. The matrix wasn't just a collection of runes—it was alive with logic, even if that logic was roundabout.
"It started with the Gemini spell," Bethseda offered, leaning in slightly. "Or so he says."
Septima let out a small, sceptical noise. "It might've started there, but this? This is something else. Gemini is... orderly. Symmetrical. Opposite but Same. This is…" She waved a hand vaguely over the parchment. The pattern looped and branched, forming a beautiful fractal pattern.
"Chaotic." she finally managed; her lips pursed. "It's not symmetrical at all. It layers on itself in ways that shouldn't work. I can see the Protean Charm influences, maybe. And…" Her voice trailed off as she squinted. "This section almost looks like a charm for... resonance? What was he even trying to do?"
Bethseda shrugged lightly. "A Replication Array; he wanted to base it on the Gemini charm."
"Why didn't he just use the charm then? Lock it in with grounding and stabilising runes? That's how most go about it." Septima wondered, echoing Bethseda's own original sentiments.
"He's not most – he couldn't cast the charm consistently and just decided to make it using runes." Bethseda recalled Hadria's frustrations with the charm.
"That's a lot of work." Septima said, drumming the desk with her fingers.
"He made it work for him, it's clear he moved far past that – of course after a lot of iteration. I don't think he even realized what he was doing—he just kept adding and testing until something clicked." Bethseda chuckled.
Septima's lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what worries me. This isn't the result of structured thought; it's... instinctive. Like he threw every idea he had at the wall to see what stuck."
Bethseda tilted her head. "You sound more impressed than frustrated."
"I am both," Septima admitted, leaning forward again. Her wand flicked, summoning a fresh sheet of parchment and quill. "It's... brilliant in its own way, but it's also maddeningly inefficient. Half of these redundancies are just magical dead ends—wasted effort. If he had focused, streamlined..."
"You'd still be sitting here, picking it apart," Bethseda teased lightly. "Don't pretend you're not enjoying the puzzle."
Septima shot her a sharp look but said nothing, the faintest twitch of her lips betraying her amusement. The quill moved almost of its own accord, sketching out equations and glyphs as she worked.
"It's stable, though," she muttered after a few moments. "That's the impressive part. Even with all the extra fluff, it holds. And this linkage here…" She frowned, tapping her quill against the parchment. "It's almost like... like it's self-correcting."
Bethseda's brow lifted slightly. "Self-correcting?"
"Not literally," Septima clarified, chuckling at the very interested look in Bethseda's eyes. "But if one section of the matrix falters, the others compensate. It's... messy, but effective. All those redundancies. Almost like he anticipated it failing and built in countermeasures. Why he thought it would fail, though…" She trailed off, shaking her head.
"Trial and error," Bethseda explained. "He throws himself into the deep end and figures it out as he goes."
Septima sighed, setting down the quill. "It's reckless."
"But it worked." Bethseda smirked at the clear frustration on Septima's face.
"For now," Septima muttered. "I'll give him this much—it's a testament to his creativity. And his sheer magical stamina. A matrix this complex would've drained most adult wizards just trying to sketch it out."
Bethseda smiled faintly. "He's a prodigy. Raw and unpolished."
"Raw is right," Septima said, leaning back in her chair. Her gaze drifted back to the parchment, and she tapped a finger against the desk. "If he's going to keep working like this, someone needs to teach him how to refine his methods."
"What? You're afraid he'll keep building beautiful, over-engineered monstrosities?" Bethseda grinned, her eyes flashing with mischief.
"You should take this seriously; you can't slack off like with your research..." Septima stopped talking as she felt a static charge through the air.
Bethseda hopped off the desk. Her eyes stormy. Her hands were fists, clenched tight against her legs. Septima swallowed, and shook her head minutely. She raised her arms up.
"I shouldn't have said that." Septima dipped her head.
"No you shouldn't." Bethseda said lowly, her frame taut.
"I'm sorry." Septima rose up and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.
"It's fine." Bethseda shrugged the hand off and Septima felt a coldness that had nothing to do with the weather.
"Much as it may be hard for you to believe, I am working on it." she turned back to the Arithmancy professor and offered a wan smile.
"I didn't come for the therapy." she smiled deprecatingly, "I just need to know if the arithmancy checks out."
Septima shot her a look but didn't argue. Instead, she picked up the parchment again, turning it over in her hands. "This matrix is... something else. I'll need more time to fully dissect it."
"Take all the time you need," Bethseda said. "I'll let Hadrian know you're looking into it. Just... try not to scare him off with too much criticism. He's still a child, after all."
Septima bit her lip. "Criticism is a part of the process." she said softly.
Bethseda smiled, her lips stretching but not reaching her eyes. "Right. I'll leave you to it."
With that, she left the room, leaving Septima alone with a desk full of parchment and her thoughts. She stared at the door, at the back of her retreating friend.
"Great job Septima, you and your big mouth." she muttered.
She threw herself back into her chair and closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. The Arithmancy professor stared at the matrix for a long moment, a grimace tugging at the corners of her mouth. She pulled out her wand and traced the outer edges of the rune matrix, concentrating to get everything. Hadrian had one thing right, the spell was hard.
"Geminio."
She pressed her wand to a fresh parchment and watched an exact copy emerge. She picked up the new copy and frowned. She tilted it, turning it around in her hands, then ever so slowly she placed it next to the original copy. She moved the papers slightly, lining them up and the two matrixes slotted in perfectly together. She stared, realisation creeping in.
"Brilliant little bastard," she muttered, a laugh escaping her. She reached for her quill again.
Parvati sprawled across Padma's bed, idly flipping through a copy of Witch Weekly while her twin sat at the desk, nose buried in a textbook. The room which normally was full of studious girls, was empty save for the two of them. Parvati could feel the pretentious academic excellence in the air. Every now and then, Parvati would glance over at her sister, her lips twitching with the effort to not say anything. Padma finally, couldn't help herself.
"I can feel you thinking Vati." Padma said in a clipped tone.
"You're not supposed to do that." Parvati said quickly. Padma gave her sister an unimpressed look.
"I don't need my empathy to guess that." Padma said with a roll of her eyes.
Parvati huffed, throwing her magazine aside, "I came here to chat and you've been ignoring me." she sat up, crossing her arms across her chest.
"I told you I had homework." Padma mimicked her sister and crossed her arms, her chin tilting up.
"It's not due for another week. Come on let's talk about something else." Parvati bounced on the bed excitedly. "Like that new book you have."
Her answer was the sound of quill scratching on parchment.
"Padma!" the older twin whined. Padma sighed, massaging her temple, her twin could be so annoying. "You're really not going to talk about it?" Parvati asked again.
Padma didn't look up, her quill moving steadily across the parchment. "Talk about what?"
"The book, Padma. Don't play dumb—you're terrible at it." Parvati rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands.
Padma sighed, setting her quill down with an air of finality. "What about the book, Parvati?"
"Oh, I don't know," Parvati said airily, though the gleam in her eye betrayed her. "Maybe the fact that you've been using it to giggle at Hadrian from across the room all week."
"I have not been giggling." Padma said quickly, her voice rising. Parvati smirked.
"So about the books? I've seen Granger with one too, there must be something." Parvati continued undeterred. "You've been passing notes."
"Look yes, there are books, but it's not a big deal okay." Padma affected a nonchalant tone as she turned back to her work.
"No big deal," Parvati mimicked, sitting up. "You know, for someone who claims it's 'just a book,' you sure are possessive about it."
Padma clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around her quill. "It's not about being possessive. It's private."
"Private," Parvati repeated, her tone full of mock reverence. She crossed her legs, resting her elbows on her knees. "I get that, really, I do. But don't you think it would be nice to share? Lavender and I could really use something like that. You'd be doing us a favour. Plus, I wouldn't have to come all the way here to talk to you."
"Have you gotten tired of me already?" Padma asked quirking an eyebrow.
"Well you've been acting so snippy, now that you and Hadrian are best buds again."
"You take that back, I am not snippy." Padma gasped spinning around in her chair and glaring at her twin.
"Miss Snippy." Parvati grinned wider. Padma leapt up and tackled her sister. The two tumbled onto the bed, a mess of hair and tangled limbs.
"Apologise!" Padma pinned Parvati down on the mattress, her hands clamped around her sisters wrists, her legs straddling her.
"You know sis, I don't swing that way." Parvati panted out, her teeth flashing.
"You're impossible." Padma huffed and rolled off her sister, laying beside her. The two laid there, catching their breath.
Parvati's hand sought out Padma's and the two threaded their fingers together. Padma could feel what was coming and closed her eyes. Yet she still went stiff when Parvati spoke.
"Will you ask him? For me?" Parvati asked quietly.
Padma let out a breath. "It's not that simple."
"Why not?" Parvati pressed, tilting her head, honey brown eyes large and curious. "Hadrian has been bending over backward for you. He'd do it if you asked."
Padma silently cursed; Parvati could be perceptive when she wanted. She was right though and that was the problem. It had not required her empathy for her to notice that Hadrian was walking on eggshells around her. Padma's stomach twisted uncomfortably. She could picture Hadrian now, green eyes shadowed with guilt, eagerly agreeing just to make her happy. He'd already been doing so much to make up for their rocky start to the year.
She didn't want to take advantage of that.
"I'll think about it," she said finally, hoping the answer would satisfy her twin. Parvati hummed, squeezing her arm; Padma could feel the pleasure thrum through her sister, a warm orange glow of self satisfaction. Normally she would feel pleased as well, the war feelings filling her up and bolstering her own spirit, so why did she feel like she'd just stabbed herself.
Pushing such feelings aside, Padma tugged her sister's hand, "We should go, I promised Hadrian I'd have lunch with him."
Parvati stood, clearly, she had something to say, but wisely kept her peace. Padma was thankful. She quickly tidied her bed and the two made their way downstairs to the Ravenclaw common room. The trip to the great hall was filled with inane chatter between the two, mostly from Parvati.
Stepping into the busy hall, Padma quickly spotted Hadrian, unruly hair sticking up like a bird's nest. The boy in question turned, his eyes honing on her and smiled. He waved to her and gestured to the seat beside him.
"I'll be seeing you." Parvati said her eyes heavy.
"I said I'll think about it." Padma rolled her eyes and playfully shoved her sister away. She made her way to the Ravenclaw table. Hadrian's eyes tracked her all the way.
"Hey. Finished your homework?" Hadrian said in greeting; quickly pushing some of her favourites towards her.
"Ugh I wish, Vati wouldn't let me." Padma rolled her eyes, a fond smile creeping up her lips.
"Well it's not due for another week, so its fine." He flashed her a quick smile.
"You sound just like her. I'll tell Mione you're slacking." Padma gestured with her fork threateningly.
Hadrian scoffed, and swiped her fork with his own. "Please don't; she's been bugging me about that planner Neville suggested."
"You're already working on that? Hadrian." Padma turned to him, her knees brushing his leg.
"Only when I have sessions with Professor Babbling." He quickly reassured. "Aunt Minnie would have my hide if I was slacking." He muttered glancing up at the staff table.
"Well okay, that's better." Padma said, her voice quiet. She searched the table for some juice.
"Honestly, Potter," Terry cut in, "Way to use connections to get ahead of the rest of us."
"Terry!" Morag gasped, eyes wide. The rest of the table winced.
"What? We were all thinking it." Terry defended.
"I wasn't." Michael shook his head. "Honestly, man, read the room."
"Maybe if you kill a troll first Terry." Mandy waved her fork at Terry.
"Oh merlin." Morag thumped her head against the table. She raised her head and looked at Hadrian, "Sorry about this." She mouthed.
Hadrian sighed, shaking his head but saying nothing. Padma bit her lip and bumped his thigh with her own. He glanced at her and shook his head.
"Hey Luna, could you pass me the apple juice?" Hadrian asked the blond-haired waif next to him. The first year bobbed her head and passed him a jug an absent smile on her face.
"Thanks." He flashed her a quick smile and poured out a measure for Padma. "Here." he offered her the goblet.
Padma flushed and muttered her thanks. He was being really thoughtful. A flash of guilt lanced through her as she remembered Parvati's assertion. She turned to Hadrian and opened her mouth but was cut off by the arrival of red and freckles.
"Oi Harry!" Ron grinned widely, dragging a younger girl behind her. The girl had straight flame coloured hair, held in place by a simple black band. Freckles dotted her pale face and her brown eyes were wide with panic. Ron didn't seem to notice the girl frantically tugging to get away.
"Ronald." Hadrian spun round on the bench.
"Oi don't call me that, my mum calls me that." Ron's face twisted like he had bitten a lemon.
"Well some of us like our given names." Hadrian shrugged before he peered behind Ron. "Who's this?"
The girl squeaked, her face turning red. Padma snorted quietly, she was adorable.
"This is Ginny, my sister. Came this year and is a Gryffindor." Ron stepped aside and pushed his sister forward. The girl stumbled and almost fell, but Padma quickly reached out and steadied her. Ginny clutched at Padma's sleeves, her grip tight.
Hot, crimson embarrassment. Pale pulsing blue anxiety.
The emotions pulsed out of the girl and Padma took a steadying breath. She noticed Hadrian look at her concerned, but she shook her head – I'm okay, she conveyed, her eyes gleaming. Padma turned her eyes back onto the girl, she could pick out flecks of gold and green in the other girls eyes. She took a steadying breath and offered a smile. Her arm grew warm as she fed a thought, an emotion, a feeling of calm confidence into the girl. You're alright.
Ginny steadied and stood up straighter, she let go of Padma. Hadrian glanced between the two girls, his brow quirking in surprise before a knowing smile flit across his lips.
"Hie." Ginny squeaked out, still not meeting anyone's eye. Padma snorted, the small girl was adorable. There was a chorus of greetings from around the table.
Hadrian smiled, "Hie, nice to meet you." Ginny turned as red as her hair. Hadrian looked concerned and turned to Padma, an eyebrow quirked. Padma shook her head.
"I'm Padma." She introduced herself, giving the girl room to collect herself. Padma turned to the first year ravenclaw at Hadrian's side.
"This is um..."
"Luna!" Ginny spoke up, eyes gleaming as she saw the blond girl. The other girl's eyes widened, which did wonders to her face, considering her eyes were already wide.
"There you are – I um – I need you – need help with something." Ginny said hurriedly.
Luna blinked slowly almost as if waking up, she tilted her head. "Do you?"
"Yes." Ginny hissed and grabbed the other girls wrist. "Bye."
The tow girls hurried off, Ginny practically dragging the more petite blond behind her.
Hadrian frowned, he looked at Luna's plate, "She didn't even finish her meal. That was weird, right?"
"Don't think about it too hard." Padma waved her hand dismissively.
"Yea mate, girls are weird." Ron plonked down on the now empty spot and reached for a plate. The girls around him watched him unimpressed. Ron caught the looks and smiled, scratching his neck.
"Well not every girl." He quickly said.
"Wow, nice save Ronald." Padma snipped before turning back to her meal.
Terry snorted. "Weird girls are nothing new at this table."
"Excuse you!" Mandy protested, throwing a grape at him. Terry ducked and the grape hit Michael.
"Right," Ron turned away from the argument unfolding before him. "Are you going to try out for Ravenclaw's quidditch team?" He asked Hadrian.
"Um I don't know, quidditch would take up a lot of time wouldn't it?" Hadrian asked, absently moving some peas to the side on his plate.
"Not so much, I don't think. The twins still have all that time to play pranks." Ron bit into his chicken and chewed for a few moments. "Plus it's Ravenclaw, of course you won't have long practice sessions."
Padma could admit that Ron had a point, the quidditch team didn't have a lot of practice sessions, not like the obsessive Gryffindor team. She glanced down at Hadrian's plate and frowned. She moved his peas back to the centre of his plate. Hadrian glanced at her a word on his lips but stopped when she glared. He sighed and muttered, stabbing a few of the peas.
"I think you should try out." Padma said suddenly.
"Really?" Ron and Hadrian asked at the same time.
"Yes." she frowned at their skeptical looks. "It would be good for you. You've been studying too hard." she leveled Hadrian with a significant look.
"Says the girl who spent all morning doing her homework." Hadrian let a playful smile pull at his lips.
"Hush you," she pointed her fork at him. "We have the afternoon free, you should go to the tryouts."
"Yea, Patil has the right of it. You should go." Ron chimed in.
"Thanks for the support, Ronald." Padma rolled her eyes.
"Well Boot and I were thinking of going." Anthony interjected. "I'm hoping to be a chaser."
"What about you Boot?" Ron dared to ask.
Terry, who's robe was suspiciously wet, waved a hand excitedly; "Beater."
"Yay! You with a club." Michael said dryly, "That's not terrifying."
Terry threw a grape at him.
"What about you, Michael." Morag asked.
"Not a chance." Michael snorted, "I like my dignity, thanks.
"You just don't like flying," Lisa muttered, without looking up from her plate.
Michael gave her an unimpressed look. "Yes. That too."
"So you really think I should?" Hadrian asked, turning to Padma.
Padma bit her lip, she could feel the weight of his question. She nodded, "Yes, I do."
"I think you'll do okay." Ron thumped Hadrian on the back. "Not that it'll help Ravenclaw much, Gryffindor has got this in the bag." He puffed up his chest.
"Typical Gryffindor arrogance." Anthony shot back smirking.
"Not arrogance. Fact," Ron said smugly. "We've got Wood, we've got Angelina and the twins—"
"And somehow still lost last year." Michael cut him off, smiling with his teeth.
Ron pretended not to hear that.
Padma nudged Hadrian again, her foot brushing against his under the table. He sighed dramatically. "Fine. But if I go, you're be coming along."
Padma grinned, oozing satisfaction. She looked at his plate and frowned; she nudged Hadrian again, nodding toward his mostly uneaten vegetables.
He sighed, "You're so bossy."
"And you're so dramatic." She grinned back at him.
He rolled his eyes. But he ate the peas.
AN: Here is the chapter!
Padma and Hadrian have finally made up and things are moving apace, all is right in the world or is it.
I welcome constructive critisism and your thoughts. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Read and Review.