Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter Text
Third Person POV
In a vast library filled floor to ceiling with various sized and colored books sat an elegantly dressed woman behind a large and grandiose wooden desk. Before her were five ornately carved wooden chairs, each with a scrollwork letter in gold across the back - A, B, C, D, and E all in a row. This woman was Lady Carolynn Archard, Head of the Ancient and Royal House of Archard. A noble lady who had not even reached her thirties, still a young woman by magical standards, yet her eyes held the stress and weariness only seen in aging witches and wizards.
Carolynn had married young to a man twice her age; though not for the usual reasons of a young noble girl, such as arrangement, tradition, or love. Her marriage was due to the terror the Dark Wizard Grindelwald had ravaged on the entirety of the Magical world, the first Magical on Magical war they had even seen. The war had claimed the life of her father, Aramis Archard, when he aided Dumbledore and his allies against Grindelwald. With Aramis gone, Carolynn became Head of the House of Archard.
Carolynn’s two older sisters, Adelynn and Braelynn, had long ago passed the heirship onto her, and while Aramis had trained Carolynn, she had not felt prepared to assume leadership of the family so soon. Especially when the mainline was in danger of becoming extinct. She had to marry quickly in order to secure the line with blood children; but that was only part of what she had to do. She’d ordered her sisters to ground, keeping them all far from both Grindelwald and Dumbledore so no other Archard blood was shed ‘for the greater good’.
The man Carolynn married, she chose more for convenience than for any other reason. She may have never learned to love her husband, but she respected and appreciated him. It was hard to be married to a Head of House as a man. Most other of the Noble Houses were patriarchal, perhaps a few matriarchies, but even fewer whose inheritances were as egalitarian as the Archard family. Yet, he proved himself capable, assuming the duties of running the household, caring for the children, and supporting her as she worked in the Ministry.
She may not love him, but their beautiful children she did love, with the burning flames of Gubraithian Fire. Her five intelligent and at times rambunctious children: the twins, Ashton and Bellamy, and the triplets, Cadence, Denice, and Eleanora. Her five children, who were late for their lesson.
Carolynn released a sigh of exasperation as she flicked her wand in an intricate pattern. With the spell cast, she gently set her wand down and folded her hands in her lap as she waited. A few seconds later, a melody of whines, squawks, cheering, and yelping grew louder as five bodies were magically dragged into the room and dumped into a pile before an unamused Carolynn.
“To your seats, children. You were late, and I have not the time to waste.”
The children, far too used to their constantly busy mother’s demands, quickly righted themselves. The twin boys and triplet girls quickly took their seats, always sitting in order, from left to right - Ashton, Bellamy, Cadence, Denice, and Eleanora.
Carolynn stood from her chair and moved back to the large space behind her where a large tapestry was hung against the wall. Edged in gold, the tapestry depicted a stone background with a long intricately woven vine stretching from the left growing right. From the buds on the vines were cursive names of each Archard of the mainline since the first Magical Archard.
“Today’s lesson will be on Genealogy, specifically our family’s. Eleanora, what is genealogy?”
Eleanora sat up straighter in her chair, confident she knew the answer. “Genealogy is the study of family history and origins.”
“Correct,” Carolynn said, allowing a small smile to show on her face for her youngest, before she grew serious once more. “The pursuit of family history is a vital facet of study for Magicals, though one which is fueled by a manner of motivations. For some it is a sense of responsibility to preserve the past for future generations and a self-satisfaction in accurate storytelling. For others it is a way to establish identity, a source for their Magical, political, and social status. Whatever the reason may be, the result is the same.”
Carolynn paused to allow all five of her young children to absorb what she said. Once she was satisfied the information had sunk in, she addressed her second-born, “Bellamy, who was our House Founder?”
Bellamy froze, before quickly looking to the far left of the large tapestry, his eyes desperately squinting to try and read the two names stitched at the stem of the vine. “Al-Algernon.”
“Incorrect,” Carolynn intoned. While not surprised he got the answer wrong, she was unimpressed with his clear floundering. She was a firm believer that if someone did not know the answer to something, it was better to say so then to guess. “Cadence, who is our Founder?”
“Mother Magic who graciously gifted magic to the world,” she recited in a steady voice.
“Correct. Mother Magic planted the seed which grew through Algernon Archard and his wife Palmyre into the vine that is our Magical family line.”
Denice suddenly interrupted. “Mother. If tracking the family history is so important, why does the tapestry only track the mainline?”
“The reason is simply because our family is too large to fit, even on an enchanted tapestry, though many do appear as such. Books such as Nature’s Nobility: A French Wizarding Genealogy contain complete and thorough histories of each Magical line and its members. It was only the Noble Houses who fell into the fashion of displaying their Magical ancestry, either specifically made to call attention to notable family members, or to simply track their heritage through the mainline.”
Carolynn turned her back to her children as she gazed up at the tapestry, hiding the turbulent emotions shining in her eyes. “Our family has deep roots in this nation. We always lived on this land, before it was France, before it was Frankia, even before it was Gaulia. While the No-Magics fought their wars over land and religion, the Magical community largely kept itself separate, even before the Statute of Secrecy came into effect. Still there were some who involved themselves with the No-Magics without fear.”
Her father appeared in Carolynn’s mind, but she immediately dismissed him, as she turned to face her children once again. “One such ancestor of ours was Jeanne Archard.” Gazing over which child to call on next, she chose her eldest. “Ashton, who were her relatives?”
Ashton quickly scanned the tapestry until he found the correct name. “Jeanne was the twin sister of Karcsi, and the younger sister of Apollina, who succeeded her father, Gaylord, as Head of the Family.”
“And do you know who she married?”
“I’m sorry, Mother, I do not know.”
Again a small smile made its way to Carolynn's face before quickly vanishing. “Quite alright, he is not listed on the tapestry since Jeanne married out of the family.” Carolynn gained an impish shine to her eyes, excited to reveal one of the many shocking family secrets. “She married into the House of Capets, specifically to Charles IV, King of France.”
“What, really?!” exclaimed the triplets in wonder and excitement.
“Indeed. The Capets were the last Magical line to rule the kingdom of France, ending with Charles himself when he and Jeanne only had three daughters since the French Monarchy was a firm believer in the patriarchy.”
“That’s stupid,” commented Bellamy. “Succession shouldn’t be based on gender.”
“You are allowed to hold that belief, my dear son, but it is one I advise to take caution in expressing,” advised Carolynn. “Each House has its own traditions, whether they work or not is up to the family, not outsiders, as some take it quite personally, as a smudge on their House honor, to be told otherwise. It does not stop many from commenting, but that is how some wizard’s duels are started.”
“Well I still think it’s utter nonsense,” grumbled Bellamy, resisting the urge to slouch in his chair.
A fond smile broke out across Carolynn’s face. “Anyways, back to the lesson. Since you are so opinionated, Bellamy, tell me, who is considered the greatest Alchemist to ever walk the earth?”
“Nicholas Flamel for his creation of the Philosopher’s Stone, which has kept him alive for hundreds of years.”
“Correct, but Nicholas is not the only one to have walked this earth for so long. Another is his wife, Perenelle, who was born an Archard; younger sister to Jeanne.”
“So…” dragged out Denice, “We’re related to the Flamel family?”
“Technically, yes, but the relation is so distant it hardly matters more than a good story. Though Perenelle has remained friendly to her sister’s descendants. You will find, children, that most Magicals are related to each other somehow, but anything beyond first cousins is considered null and void when it pertains to alliances, arrangements, or inheritances.”
“Do we have other relatives besides Aunt Adel and Aunt Brae?” asked Ashton, curiosity shining through his expressive face and eyes.
Carolynn glanced toward the ceiling as she spoke her thoughts aloud, “Your grandmother was a Dufort, but she was from a branch family and not the mainline, so we are not particularly close with them. Your father was a Clary, and remains quite close with his family. I expect you’ll be meeting your cousins soon enough, though forewarning, they are all quite older than you five.”
It was unclear if the the young Archards were satisfied with their mother’s answer, but it was the sad truth, they were lacking in familial connections outside Carolynn’s two sisters. Carolynn laid blame at the feet of Grindelwald and the terror he rained upon France. Many lost relatives to him, and many, like Carolynn, protected what little family they had left by distancing themselves.
Carolynn shook away those dark lines of thought. There was little use of falling down those rabbit holes, especially when she had a few other ancestors she wanted to touch on. Shifting her weight between her two feet, and clasping her hands together in front of her, Carolynn reclaimed the drifted focus of her children.
“Now, the next ancestor I’d-”
Knock. Knock.
All six occupants glanced towards the opened double doors of the library to see the rather tall but aging figure of Talbot Archard, Carolynn’s husband and the children’s father. Talbot stood in the doorway with an apologetic smile. “I apologize for interrupting you dear, but Junior Undersecretary Rochechouart has arrived through the floo. You are needed at the Ministry.”
Carolynn sighed in exasperation. “I swear to Morgana, if that boy is here because he let another matagot eat an important document, then I will spell him to tap dance through the main hall of the Ministry.”
“Deep breaths, dear. The young man is frantic enough without the Senior Undersecretary threatening him with mortifying embarrassment. I can finish the children’s lesson for you, and will have Tweedy whip up some tulipes for when you return.”
“Thank you, Talbot,” Carolynn replied as she made her way out of the library, quickly striding through the doors without a backwards glance.
Talbot ambled his way over to the library desk before carefully easing himself down into the chair, grunting as some of his joints creaked. “Now then, where did your mother leave off?”
“Mother had just finished telling us about Jeanne Archard and her husband King Charles IV of France and was about to move on to another notable ancestor,” Ashton dutifully answered.
Talbot made a humming noise as he settled further into the chair, arms crossed as he thought. He knew of a couple different ancestors which fit the theme Carolynn had devised for today’s lesson; though Talbot only knew the full tale of one of them off the top of his head. “If she told you about Charles Capet IV, then she was bound to tell you of another great man who married into the Archard family.”
“You, Father?” Cadence teasingly asked.
“No, not me,” Talbot chuckled. “The only great thing I ever did in my life was help create you five.”
The children, no matter how used to the warm words their father always said ever so casually, basked in them as if they were a rare occurrence.
“Many generations ago, during the sixth century, your ancestor Aalis of House Archard married a foreigner, but not just any foreigner - Merlin himself.”
“Truly Father? The Merlin?” questioned Eleanora. “The greatest sorcerer of the Magical World!”
“Yes indeedy, though at the time he was just some scrap of a boy out traveling the world honing his magical skills. They quickly fell in love and ran off together to travel the world. It took Aalis’s twin brother Benedeit, and her triplet brothers, Enguerrand, Francis, and Guiscard, dragging the two back for them to marry,” he explained with an amused chuckle.
“Why would they drag their sister back against her will?” asked Denice.
“While marriage customs were less strict back in those days, a child outside of marriage was still heavily frowned upon. Aalis had already given birth to her first set of triplets, Aventin, Barbilia, and Claude, and her family refused to allow a once again pregnant Aalis to give birth again without being married to the father.”
Talbot chuckled in amusement at his children’s dumbfounded expressions - though to be fair, he looked quite similar when Adelynn told him the same story. Forget all the accumulated rare tomes hidden in the library vault, the fact that Merlin, a wizard revered for his skill, wisdom, and knowledge, was actually a scoundrel who technically stole away a daughter of a now Noble House would shake the foundation the Magical World had built itself on.
When Talbot married his close friend’s daughter to help her secure her position as Head of the Archard Family, he had expected many things to come of it - her older sister taking an almost perverse pleasure in breaking the preconceived notions he held was not one of them. It had been humbling to find a girl half Talbot’s age who knew more about Magical history than he did.
Yet, there hadn’t been a single moment where Talbot regretted marrying Carolynn. As the fourth son of Lord Gaston Clary, very little was ever expected of Talbot. He had resigned himself to the life of a bachelor and being a doting uncle to his nieces and nephews. Then Aramis Archard was killed by Grindelwald’s fanatical followers.
Losing his dear friend had hurt Talbot. Lacey Archard following her husband not long after, dying of a broken heart, only added to the pain. The haze which had descended on him was blown away when Aramis and Lacey’s triplet daughters called him for a meeting in their home - a meeting to discuss Talbot marrying Carolynn, the youngest of the sisters.
Talbot had been against the girls’ proposal, as he had practically been their uncle all their lives, but the triplets were not deterred and had a compelling case. Carolynn had been Aramis’ trained and declared heir. She needed to marry in order to secure the family line since Adelynn was sadly incapable of having children as the result of a spell gone wrong, and Braelynn’s...preferences, ensured she would never produce a child of the Archard bloodline.
So by his honor Talbot agreed, and with time found a balance with Carolynn which suited them just fine. They did not love each other, at least not in the way a husband and wife traditionally did, but what they had worked for them. Two arduous pregnancies later, the mainline of the Archard family was well supplied; five children who Talbot loved more than he ever thought possible.
Talbot had never thought he would have children of his own, so after both births, Talbot swore he would do anything to protect them. Every day his love grew for his sons and daughters, as they were the lights of his world, allowing him to find happiness in his situation beyond the previous contentment.
Carolynn, Talbot knew, loved their children just as fiercely; however, she also had the political mind of the two of them, and had high hopes for alliances that could be made in the future. He trusted her to carefully investigate every possible match, but he had little desire for any of his children to marry for anything less than love.
The House of Archard was no longer teetering on the edge of extinction, so they could afford to allow the children to chart the course of their futures. Still, these were concerns for far into the future, as Ashton and Bellamy weren't even of the age to attend Beauxbatons quite yet. Until then, Talbot would enjoy the time he had with his young children, to bask in their laughter, love, and budding mischievous behavior.
Chapter 2: Summer Social
Chapter Text
Esme POV
Summers in England were vastly different from summers in France. We’d suffered through the long hot days and the occasional thunderstorm last year, yearning for the pleasant warmth of Paris we thought we would be soon returning to. This year, however, we knew we would never be returning to France, and so, naturally, we had to adjust to infrequent heat waves that bombarded at random.
Thankfully the manor was kept comfortably cool at all times, and the trees outside provided decent shade when walking through parts of the gardens. Still, I missed the pool at the country manor we lived in before coming to England. All Heaven’s Garden had was the fountain, and after Fain, Gérard, Henrik, and Isabelle tried to go swimming in it, Maman strictly forbade us from playing in its waters.
The lack of a pool aside, the heat hadn’t been too terrible, especially on Litha. We hadn’t done more than a feast last year; however, for this Summer Solstice, Papa and Maman arranged for us to spend an entire day together. We dressed in our Litha robes, wearing crowns of roses, elder, marigolds, Saint John’s wort, and vervain, and played games around the Sacred Bonfire. Once the sun began to set, the house-elves set up a feast for us in the gardens. It was a long but fun day, especially with the knowledge that Maman and Papa gave up going to the British Ministry of Magic’s Midsummer Ball - the very ball they met and fell in love - so they could spend the entire day with us as a family.
Honestly, when we first returned to Heaven’s Garden in June, I hadn’t been sure what to expect of summer break. I had hope but remained apprehensive if Papa would allow any of us to leave the grounds, as he hadn’t ever before. Yet, I was pleasantly surprised when Maman announced at one of earlier mandatory family dinners (even Papa attended once he returned home from working at the Ministry) that we were no longer forbidden from leaving the manor grounds, though strict rules would still be applied.
Besides the full day Litha celebrations, there was a trip to Diagon Alley, aethonan riding with Maman, and Papa even allowed those of us who were school age to see our friends. Papa only allowed Blaire’s friend from France, Aline Dubois, to visit the manor, who stayed for two weeks before she went home. Meanwhile, Alaric, Carlisle, and Dustin had to leave Heaven’s Garden to visit their friends, though Alaric had less time to do so since Papa had officially begun his heirship lessons.
Papa was noticeably more restrictive with me than with my older siblings. He still let me visit Daphne, but he only allowed it by escorting me to Greengrass Estate himself through the Floo Network. Papa has remained very busy between Alaric’s lessons, Wizengamot meetings, and working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, so he wasn’t able to spare a lot of time to escort me to see any of my other friends, let alone visit Daphne again.
Still, the day I spent with Daphne was wonderful. She took me for a tour of the grounds and her family’s ancestral home, though some rooms were off-limits to me as a non-family member. We spent time listening to music through Daphne's own wireless radio and talking amongst ourselves. Then Daphne surprised me with afternoon tea in their lakeside pavilion, where her sister joined us. Astoria remained mostly quiet the entire time, still being quite shy around me, but overall it was a wonderful day, and I would treasure the memories forever.
Despite being back with my siblings and getting to spend more time with them (which I have enjoyed), I missed my friends, and I missed Hogwarts - the castle, its secret passageways, and even the classes (though not Herbology - never Herbology). I loved my siblings, but they were not replacements for my friends, who I had grown so close to over the course of my First-Year, just as my friends weren’t replacements for my siblings.
I had spent time with Daphne for a day, but had to rely on letters with everyone else, with Daphne and I also exchanging a few letters here and there. I received a letter from Theo practically every week, and I’d been diligently writing back. Poor boy was bored to tears being trapped in his home, Nottington Court, as his father forced him through unnecessarily lengthy heirship lessons - apparently Lord Nott was quite long winded.
Draco on the other hand, had expressed great excitement over his own heirship lessons he’d been having with his father. But what mostly filled his letters was the subject of his dueling lessons. Lord Malfoy had hired a tutor from Russia, an Ivan Poliakoff, who Draco swore was the most skilled dueler he’d ever seen. Draco made a point a few times to mention how useful the book I gave him for Yule had been. I was glad he was enjoying it, especially since I still felt a little guilty our gifts weren’t of equal value. This coming term at Hogwarts, I wanted to put more of an effort in being Draco’s friend - plus, being closer with him would mess with Parkinson’s head.
I’d only recently received a letter from Blaise that I still needed to respond to. His owl hadn’t waited for a reply before leaving, so Flèche would have to make the journey himself. I was hesitating to send him because Blaise was all the way in Italy for the summer. I worried over Flèche making such a long trip, plus I would be without an owl for however long he took. Either way, Blaise was at least happy to be in Italy since he missed the chance during winter break. The only downside he’d expressed was his mother forcing him to spend time with his stepfather. Blaise still loathed Giovanni and refused to acknowledge the wizard as anything more than his mother’s husband.
The only other person I’d exchanged letters with so far had been Neville. While he was doing well, he stated a few times he missed Hogwarts, but never specifically said why. I’d theorized from his letters that it may have something to do with his grandmother, Lady Augusta. She had been quite the intimidating character at the Winter Ball, and I was fairly certain she scared him on top of her usual strict behavior. There was little I could do to help Neville, besides being an outlet for him to talk and express himself - which hopefully helped him.
I had sent a letter to Potter at the beginning of summer, inquiring how he was doing after what happened with Quirrell and the Philosopher's Stone; however, Potter never wrote back. I had (naively) thought that perhaps he’d gotten over the Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry after I helped him, hoping we could perhaps rekindle our friendship. His lack of response though was a clear answer - he wanted nothing to do with a Slytherin.
I still felt the bitter sting over what Dumbledore pulled at the End of Year Feast, despite moving past it and being determined to make the coming terms better. Potter probably felt he truly deserved to win Gryffindor the House Cup for his ‘heroic’ actions. Either way, he clearly was ungrateful for the help I provided and petty over this House rivalry. Potter was a lost cause, so I conceded we would never be friends once again, and I was fine with that. I had plenty of friends in my own House, plus I had Neville - however secret we had to keep our friendship. I did not need Potter.
An additional social event that occurred was the Selwyn-Black wedding, which had occurred just yesterday. Only Papa, Maman, Alaric, and Blaire attended the ceremony (much to some of our disappointment) stating it was an adult event and no place for children. Alaric got new dress robes for the occasion. While Papa was in one of his black dress robe ensembles with a teal silk necktie, Alaric was dressed in a cream suit with a pastel green necktie and a matching robe.
Maman had bought her and Blaire new dresses. Blaire wore a beautiful pastel-green dress with crème vine embroidery. It had flowing sleeves connected straight across her shoulders and flared out at her waist until it was about calf length. Maman let her borrow a pair of crème laced heels and one of her emerald sets. Maman wore a teal blue flowing dress which connected on her right shoulder where it tied into a large bow. She had matching teal blue heels and wore one of her diamond sets. Tipper had spelled both their hair with the sides tied back with thin ribbons matching their dresses.
Both Maman and Blaire had looked beautiful, and I’d been envious I wasn’t able to get dressed up once again with them. While I also would’ve liked another chance to see Daphne, I wasn’t too upset I had missed the ceremony itself. I’d never attended a handfasting ceremony before, but from what I read about them, they sounded boring and tedious. Instead I got to spend a fun evening being entertained by the spunky Nymphadora (don’t call me that) Tonks. For an Auror-in-Training, Tonks was quite clumsy, but her quirky demeanor made it more endearing than annoying - she did use the Repairing Charm whenever she did happen to break something.
We had all been content to spend the evening apart, doing our own separate activities. Tonks, however, wouldn't hear of it, spouting that if she had siblings, she would play with them every chance she got. Dustin had been fully prepared to ignore her, and started dragging Carlisle off, but Tonks reeled him back in by issuing a challenge: that she could find all eight of us in under an hour in a game of Hide-and-Seek. With the size and sheer number of hiding places in Heaven’s Garden, we all doubted she could achieve this. So we all accepted her challenge and proceeded to hide ourselves before Tonks’ magical timer rang.
When I heard the chime, I huddled further into the chest I burrowed myself in. Only to startle when not long later it was opened to Tonks’ loud exclamation of “Found you!”. I climbed out, and to my shock, she had already found Fain before me. I was left to trail behind with my siblings as the Auror-in-Training walked with purpose through the manor, appearing to know exactly where to look without hesitation. She found us all one by one throughout Heaven’s Garden, even Dustin who had climbed onto the ledge of the high windows near the ceiling somehow.
True to her word, Tonks found us all in under an hour - it only took as long as it did because we had to walk so far around the manor itself. Clearly she had used some sort of magic. Dustin and Carlisle both accused her of cheating, to which she denied with a wide grin on her face. Janette was the one to finally ask how she did it. Tonks was happy to explain to her captivated audience about magical sensing, something she learned to do in Auror Training. Without the use of a spell, a witch or wizard could use their own magic to sense the presence of another bearing magic nearby. Tonks made it look and sound easy, but if you lacked a natural aptitude or great concentration, then it was nearly impossible to achieve.
Thus our afternoon and evening went, each of us taking turns trying to sense everyone else’s magic in a game of Hide-and-Seek. It was both thrilling and frustrating but quite fun. Of my siblings, only myself, Carlisle, and Henrik were able to sense other’s magic nearby in varying degrees of success. I personally attributed our success with our ability to actually focus and concentrate with a clear mind. Dustin, Fain, Gérard, Isabelle, and Janette did not have the best attention spans for calm thinking for various reasons, so it wasn’t so surprising they struggled and gave up on trying and simply enjoyed the game itself. While it was a useful skill, I doubted I would use it much, especially at Hogwarts. I honestly couldn’t imagine playing Hide-and-Seek with my friends at Hogwarts since it was generally considered a childish game.
Tonks was impressed so many of us picked up on the basics so quickly, even encouraging us to consider becoming Aurors since apparently the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was always looking for Trackers in the division. I haven’t really considered what I wanted to do with my life, or what to even focus my studies on. I still had plenty of time to consider my options, unlike Carlisle and Dustin, who would be taking their O.W.L.s next year. Yet, I didn’t think I wanted to be an Auror.
Overall, I greatly enjoyed the evening spent with most of my family under the watchful eye of Tonks. Despite her own clumsiness, she never allowed any of us to be injured - once using magic to save Isabelle when she fell out of one of the trees in the garden she was hiding in. Papa and Maman returned with Alaric and Blaire a couple of hours after dark, each appearing tired from the day spent at the wedding. We all made sure to say goodbye to Tonks before she left. As far as minders went, she was my favorite, and I hoped she would come back sometime. At the very least she was the daughter of Maman’s friend, so we would get to see her again regardless.
I knew Papa and Maman were invited to the Rowle-Evernight wedding, though it wasn’t until the end of summer. While it would be before the start of the first term at Hogwarts, Papa already announced only he and Maman would be attending. He didn’t specify why he decided this, but his tone hadn’t allowed any further discussion on the matter to occur. Though, based on the slight sound of disgust coloring his voice when speaking of it, I thought perhaps Papa didn’t think very highly of someone in one or both families. Still, it made little difference as I wouldn’t be going, and I wasn’t foolish to try and argue the point.
Yesterday’s activities had exhausted me more than I realized, as I slept in later than I usually did this morning. Thankfully I still managed to eat some breakfast before the house-elves cleaned up the dining room table at ten o’clock. Since I had about four hours or so before lunch was served (if I missed it then I would have to wait until dinner), I decided to head to the library and work on my summer coursework.
After shutting the large wooden doors behind me, I noticed I wasn't the only one who chose to get some of the summer assignments done. Blaire was already working diligently on the table in front of the bay windows but glanced up when she heard me enter.
“Good morning, petite soeur,” Blaire greeted. “Would you like to join me?”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” I replied as I made my way over to her. I sat down and got out my supplies and books I needed while Blaire pushed aside some of the books she had spread out on the table to make some room for me. I paused when I saw something unusual. “Um...why does your Charms textbook look singed?”
Blaire huffed, and my eyes widened when I saw her hair slowly float and move as if there was a breeze. “Those jumeaux du diable were at it again! They were trying to prank Carlisle and Dustin with some sort of magical device but didn’t account for Carlisle holding his Beater bat. Carlisle knocked it aside when it came flying at him and Dustin, knocking it onto my books when I was studying outside this morning. It exploded, and I just managed to put out the sparks before my books were completely destroyed!” Blaire took a couple deep breaths, and I began to relax when her hair went back to normal. “Honestly, I don’t know where they even got the thing.”
I instantly cleared my face, appearing perfectly innocent and hoped I gave nothing away. Really, it wasn’t my fault the twins misused the pack of stink pellets I bought them on our last trip to Diagon Alley. The clerk at Gambol and Japes Wizarding Prank shop had said they were harmless, and the stinky green smoke cleared away in less than a minute. I didn’t know what the twins did to it, but they shouldn’t have exploded, at least, not in a way that could cause sparks.
“I’m sure if you asked Zimpsy she would fix your books up as good as new,” I tentatively suggested.
“Katcher actually witnessed the whole thing when he was watering some of the plants and offered to mend them, but I was too furious at the time and ended up storming off.” Blaire let out a deep sigh. “I’ll go ask him later when he’s done with his chores and apologize if I scared him or hurt his feelings.”
Katcher had been with us for years now, so I was sure he wasn’t offended by Blaire’s anger like she thought he was. Still, I’d better change the subject before Blaire had the chance to realize I supplied the twins with the magical pranking supplies. “I was wondering Blaire, have you and Alaric gotten your O.W.L. results yet?”
“Oh, yes we did. Did I not tell you? Je suis désolé, petite papillon, I didn’t mean to leave you out of the loop.” Blaire finally began smiling once again so I knew I succeeded in distracting her. “As you know I took ten classes last year, but I decided to take all twelve O.W.L. examinations. I studied on my own time and it paid off! I got ten Outstandings and two Exceed Expectations!”
“Were the Exceeds for the two classes you studied for on your own?”
“They were. Books are all well and good, but classroom experience does play a part in learning material, at least in the case of Care of Magical Creatures. Divination on the other hand...you couldn’t pay me to take any of Professor Trelawney’s classes. Still, I was very pleased with my results.”
“I’m sure Papa and Maman were as well.”
“They were, Maman especially. She said couldn’t wait to brag that her daughter got twelve O.W.L.s to her friend Andromeda.”
“Do you know how Alaric did?”
“Indeed I do. Alaric received nine O.W.L.s for the nine classes he took. He got five Outstandings and four Exceed Expectations, though I don’t know what classes exactly he got which for. And before you ask, Papa was pleased with Alaric’s scores, and Maman was of course happy as well.”
The conversation lulled, but mostly because we each went back to our assigned coursework. While Blaire had already started hers earlier in the break, I still had all of mine to do. I had plenty of time left in summer break to complete it all, but I appreciated that Blaire wasn’t too absorbed into her own work, and she was happy to set it aside to help me whenever I needed it. I realized that like Neville, Blaire had a way of explaining Herbology to me in a way I could understand it. The assignment was still frustrating, but with Blaire’s help I was able to get a good chunk of it done and felt confident I could finish the rest without her help.
I decided to take a small break when I felt my hand getting a bit stiff, taking the time to stretch it out to avoid cramping. I’d hoped to finish up some sketches I was working on, but that wouldn’t happen if my hand was too sore to do so.
“Did you have fun yesterday, at the wedding?” I asked.
Blaire blinked a few times, obviously caught off guard by my sudden question. When she finally gathered her thoughts she replied, “Oui, I did. I’d never attended a handfasting before, but this one certainly illustrated what the books described very well. It was a beautiful ceremony, and Mother Magic did bless the union, sealing Lyra and Ecbert's bond with silver sparks.”
“Did Lyra wear a traditional dress or was it personalized?”
Blaire fiddled with her necklace (the one she always wore) as she thought it over. “I would say it was a mixture of both. It was certainly a traditional design on the dress with black embroidered ivy, and she did wear an ivy circlet under her Black family crown. She did personalize things by actually wearing a veil attached to the back of her wedding crown and her dress was gold instead of black or white like people were expecting of her as a member of House Black. Overall, Lyra made a beautiful bride.”
“Anyways, enough about the wedding. I heard from George there should be an opening on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Will you try out and join our brothers on the pitch?”
It was my turn to blink in surprise at the sudden question and complete turn from the previous conversation. Blaire obviously was changing the subject, which made me wonder if something happened at the wedding, or if she simply had nothing else to talk about. Either way, I wanted to respect Blaire's privacy, and she did go along with my own change of subject earlier.
“George would be correct about an open position. It’s the Seeker position, as Terence Higgs just graduated this last term. While I like Quidditch well enough, I have no desire to play it. I’m nowhere near a strong enough flyer, let alone to be a Seeker, so I’ll be leaving Quidditch to our brothers."
“If you say so, though, I would've loved to see how the boys would’ve reacted to finding out they would have to play against you,” she said while giggling at the thought. Blaire then got a contemplative look on her face. “If you’d like to become a better flyer, I’m sure Carlisle and Dustin would love to help you. Any reason to practice flying would thrill them. Maman would be sure to allow it as long as you remained on the property grounds.”
I perked up at the suggestion. “That’s a great idea! Even if I have no desire to play Quidditch, I’d at least like to be able to be a competent flyer. Flying seems like such a relaxing way to travel.”
“Perhaps, but not the safest. Any Muggle could spot you if you aren’t careful, and it takes you hours to get anywhere. Flooing is the best in my opinion. It’s safe as long as you clearly state where you wish to go, and you get there nearly instantly - without the nauseating feeling Apparating induces.”
I shivered in disgust as I remembered the sensation from when Maman and Papa took us side-along to travel to Malfoy Manor for the Winter Ball. “Anyways,” I said as I shook off the memory. “So you and George Weasley are obviously writing to each other, will you be visiting each other soon? After all, he’s much closer than Aline is, and you made time for her.”
Blaire blushed scarlet red all the way to her ears, causing me to burst out laughing. I swear I saw steam rising from her face!
“W-well, I h-haven’t seen Aline in over a year!”
I quieted down to soft giggles. “S’excuse, grand soeur. I was only teasing.”
Blaire, her face still tinted red, huffed and crossed her arms as she attempted to scowl - though it looked more like a pout. “Euse effrontée,” she muttered under her breath.
“In all seriousness,” I said as I finally stopped giggling, not at all insulted by her mutter. “Will you plan to see George and Fred Weasley either here, their home, or in Diagon Alley?”
She stopped pouting and released a long breath. “Honestly, I don’t know.” Blaire turned her head to look out the window, a contemplative look on her face. “I do consider Fred and George to be my friends. But all teasing aside, I care for George in a different way than I do Fred. However, things are...complicated.”
“What’s complicated about it? You like him. And I know he likes you too, Fred has admitted to it in not so many words.”
“Remember how Papa and Maman warned us about who we spent time with?”
Now I was even more confused. “Yes, but George certainly isn’t like those people they described. Both he and Fred care little for wealth and power with how indiscriminately they prank people.”
“I know they’re not, but they get whispered about as is by certain people in Gryffindor, and I’ve seen looks thrown their way from others. The last thing I want to do is add to it.”
While I didn’t know why the Weasley twins would garner such treatment, I realized that Blaire’s concerns mirrored my own over my friendship with Neville. However, there was a key difference. “I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit. You say there are already whispers and looks, yet to me it doesn’t appear to affect them in any way and if I'm not mistaken, it may even fuel their antics. I think you should give George a chance. If he can’t handle it, then that’s his problem and he’ll miss out on being with my most kind and intelligent big sister.”
“When did you get so wise?” Blaire asked, a soft look overcoming her features.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “What do you mean, I’ve always been this great.” We both chuckled at my dramatics. “I won’t tease you about him anymore…but I really think you should at least go see him soon, he is still your friend after all.”
Blaire was quiet for a while, so I turned back to working on my summer coursework. I glanced up when Blaire started packing up her things. She came around and kissed my head. “Thank you, petite papillon.”
Without another word, Blaire hurried out of the library, walking as if her purpose was clear. I hoped she decided to give George Weasley a chance. At the very least, I hoped to witness our brothers’ reactions when they found out Blaire was seeing someone. I snickered to myself. Poor George wouldn’t know what hit him, but I think he would be able to handle it. If not, then he would be a rather poor prankster - if you can’t take it, then you shouldn’t be giving it in the first place.
Petite soeur = little sister
Jumeaux du diable = devil twins
Je suis désolé = I'm sorry
Petite papillon = little butterfly
Oui = yes
S’excuse = apologies
Grand soeur = big sister
Euse effrontée = cheeky brat (female)
Extra POV
Blaire POV
I was glad when Esme went along with my sudden change in subject without commenting. While I had enjoyed myself at the wedding, there was a small blight which darkened the magical experience.
As soon as we had arrived, I felt eyes digging into me. I had thought nothing of it, simply thinking it was curious witches and wizards. However, the sensation persisted even when the ceremony started and everyone’s eyes were supposed to be on the couple in the center of the circle with the officiate.
Casually scanning the crowd, I finally found the source of the unnerving feeling. A young man had his eyes locked on me instead of Lyra and Ecbert. I vaguely recognized him from the Winter Ball, as we had danced once before I excused myself for another partner. I danced and met for the first time so many different people, I honestly hadn’t been able to recall his name. Still, all throughout the ceremony, I kept looking back and found his eyes remained fixated on me. It was unsettling.
It wasn’t until the reception that he finally approached me, to ask me to dance of all things. I had wanted to say no, but he had already taken my hand and started leading me to the crowd of flowing dancers. To avoid making a scene, I went along with it, but my opinion of him sunk further.
As we danced, he did most of the talking as I refused to engage any further with him than the bare necessary manners and etiquette required of me. This however, didn’t seem deter him. The entire time he smirked down at me, despite us being almost the same height; it was all in the tilt of the chin - tilted down created the illusion. He spoke of admiring me (all shallow reasons) and Father (which was smarmy of him), boasting about himself (all of which I doubted was true), and preening about being heir to the Parkinson family.
It was then I remembered who he was - Preston Parkinson, grandson to the current Lord Parkinson, a former Slytherin who graduated the year before. I didn’t take much count into someone’s House encompassing their personality (there were creeps in every House), but compared to my darling sister, Preston was the mold at the bottom of a barrel that had been left to float at sea.
I endured dancing with him, counting the second until the end of the song, when he dared to actually suggest to me for us to enter into a marriage contract to combine our families together. The nerve of that cretin! It was highly improper for him to suggest it to me unsupervised, let alone have the nerve to think he could charm me into agreeing and convincing Father to go along with the farce.
Before I could react negatively (oh how I wanted to slap him), Father had thankfully appeared and intervened by cutting in. Preston had no choice but to concede (not that even tried to stand up to Father’s dominating presence) and slithered away like the worm he was.
Father inquired if I was alright and I wasted no time relaying what the sorry excuse of a male spoke to me about, quietly so no one could overhear us. He had remained stiffly quiet, but I felt the anger churning beneath the mask of calm. Father first made it clear to me that under no circumstances would he ever engage me to anyone without my explicit consent.
After a pause he asked if I wanted to consider this offer. I immediately hissed my denial under my breath. Father was quiet, and slowly I felt his anger recede, as if being pulled deep within him. He finally spoke, reassuring me he would handle it, then to my amusement gave me permission to slap Heir Preston Parkinson if he dared to lay hands on me again.
Father’s words had reassured me, but the incident did cause him to decide to only take Maman with him to the Rowle-Evernight wedding later this summer. I knew he wanted to limit my exposure to Parkinson, and I appreciated that, though I was disappointed I wouldn’t have the chance to slap him. Still, I didn’t want any of my siblings to know what happened to avoid worrying them. Alaric knew and his worry was more than enough. While I could take care of myself, it was always comforting when he reaffirmed he had my back, just as I had his.
Chapter 3: Archards vs Weasley
Chapter Text
Esme POV
Weeks passed and it was now mid-July. While I kept my word and no longer teased Blaire about her (confirmed) mutual crush on George Weasley, I hadn’t heard anything about if she decided to do something about it or not. Blaire had gone over to the Weasley’s home to visit the twins. I knew she had enjoyed herself because she couldn’t keep the smile off her face when she got back to Heaven’s Garden. Though the smile was not the only thing Blaire returned with.
Over dinner, Blaire brought up that Madame Weasley wanted to meet the rest of ‘Blaire’s siblings’ and invited us over to visit. Papa had been uneasy about the offer, and I was sure he would say no, when Blaire spoke up. She explained Madame Weasley only desired for us to meet and play with her own children in a game of Quidditch. Whatever further hesitation Papa had was silenced when Maman interjected, saying it was a wonderful idea.
Knowing the youngest Weasley was a year older than Fain and Gérard, Isabelle and Henrik didn’t want to go. Janette had no choice in the matter as she was on bedrest with another cold. This left the rest of us to be corralled into agreeing to go. I wasn’t particularly thrilled about going myself, but Blaire said they would probably need five players for the match, and since Fain and Gérard weren’t allowed to fly just yet, I had to.
So there we were, being dropped off at the end of the dirt path to the Weasley's property (Papa refused to go any further, most likely to avoid interacting with the Weasleys). He simply reminded us to be back at the manor before dinner before he vanished with a soft pop, leaving us standing beside a lopsided sign stuck into the ground which read, The Burrow .
Blaire took charge and stalked forward with purpose, Alaric following behind her carrying his broom in one hand and one of the Quidditch ball trunk handles. Dustin held the other while also carrying the two Beater bats by their leather wrist straps, while Carlisle followed closely holding both his and Dustin’s brooms in his arms. Fain and Gérard skipped ahead to catch up with Blaire, likely excited to meet the Weasley twins for the first time.
Clutching Carlisle’s old Turbo XXX in my hands, I followed after my siblings onto the dirt path. I felt a ripple of magic slide over my skin. A slight distortion in the air revealed the feeling to be a ward surrounding the property. There was no telling how many wards the Weasley’s had or what kind, but since I hadn’t seen a single ward stone there couldn’t be that many.
As we made our way up the dirt path, I saw to the right was a large cornfield, and from the quacking noise knew there had to be a pond or something located somewhere in it. To the left was an open field and hills, and in the distance I saw another building standing alone in the open field - most likely another Magical residence based on the odd shape.
Finally, the long path ended as we reached the Weasley’s home. While Heaven's Garden appeared solidly built with the subtle elegance often found with manors, The Burrow appeared to once been a large stone pigpen with added rooms which appeared added at random, leaving the structure to appear almost unstable; the several upper stories seemed crooked. The entire thing only existed and remained standing because magic had to be holding it in place. The house had five chimneys, which was odd for such a small structure to have so many fireplaces. Heaven’s Garden had multiple fireplaces, but it was at least four times as big as this place.
The small yard in front of the misshapen home was littered with several fat brown chickens pecking their way around, as well as a wooden pig pen filled with a number of squealing fat pigs. Off to the side of the house was a rickety looking barn and a chicken coop, where stood the lone rooster flapping its wings as if it was trying to look intimidating.
Blaire knocked on the rough wood door, the noise sounding even louder amongst the quiet of the homestead. Soon I heard the thudding sound of running feet. The door was quickly yanked open by one of the Weasley twins.
“Blaire! You made it!” he exclaimed. His focus on Blaire led me to believe this to be George Weasley.
Fred then poked his head out from behind his twin. “And your siblings too! Mum’s making Percy play too, so it’ll be five on five.”
“That’s perfect actually,” replied Blaire. “Mother doesn’t want Fain and Gérard attempting to fly just yet.”
“Oh there you are, dears!” suddenly exclaimed a female voice from behind George. He moved aside and who could only be Madame Weasley bustled through the doorway and promptly hugged Blaire close. Pulling away, she quickly moved aside and gestured for us to enter the cottage. “Come in, come in! Let me get a look at all of you.”
We all carefully squeezed ourselves and brooms through the slim doorway, but even once I was inside, I kept the broom clutched close in fear of bumping something. While the interior felt clean, it was clearly lived in, with a jumbled and cluttered array of furniture and trappings. It was cute in a homey sort of way. It had a cozy atmosphere with its earth-tone colours, though I preferred the comforting elegance and tidiness of Heaven’s Garden.
“Oh~ it’s a pleasure you meet you dears, I’m Mrs. Weasley. Now, who’s who?”
Since Blaire had already been introduced to Madame Weasley, it was her job to introduce the rest of us. She of course started with her twin. “This is Alaric, my fraternal twin.” She gestured to the youngest of us (who hadn’t stopped staring at Fred and George). “Then here are our youngest twin boys, Fain and Gérard, and beside them is Carlisle, and then Dustin.” She then placed a hand on my shoulder. “Finally, my sister Esme.”
“Wonderful to meet you all at last,” Madame Weasley practically beamed and appeared to be holding herself back from giving each of us the same warm greeting she gave Blaire. Her demeanor was just as energetic and warm as Maman’s, though with small differences. If I were to say one major contrast, besides their physical appearance, was that Maman constantly held herself with grace and poise, while Madame Weasley radiated a soft glow, reminding me of coals in a fire during winter.
Madame Weasley suddenly turned her head towards the small winder staircase in the center of the room. “Ginny! Percy! Ron! Get down here, the Archards are here!” I flinched at her raised voice.
“Coming, Mum!” was shouted back by several voices, before the sound of pattering steps grew.
First to appear was the Gryffindor prefect, Percy Weasley, who looked less than enthused. After a pointed look from his mother a polite smile was on his face as he hovered near where Blaire stood next George and Fred.
Following shortly behind him was a girl around Fain and Gérard’s age, with flaming red hair and shy but bright smile on her face. She could only be the youngest Weasley and only girl I heard about from both Blaire and Weasley.
“Ginny, these are the Archards, Fain and Gerald here are about your age, just a bit younger,” Madame Weasley said as she gestured to the twins.
“ Pardonnez-moi , Madame , but it’s pronounced ‘Gér-ard’ not ‘Ger-ald’.” I gently corrected her.
“Oh my, I’m sorry, dear. Jared, then.” I wanted to correct her again, but Blaire caught my eye and shook her head minutely at me, so I stayed silent. It was closer at least, though still not quite right, and Gérard didn’t appear to mind anyways. “You’ve already met Blaire. And these are her other brothers, Alaric, Carlisle, and Dustin, and then her younger sister Esme. She’s in Slytherin.”
Ginny waved at each of us in turn, and I made sure to smile back. So far she was making a better impression than Weasley did the first time I met him on the train, as her smile to me hadn’t changed when Madame Weasley mentioned I was in Slytherin - for whatever reason she felt she had to say it in the first place.
“Speaking of Ron, what is taking your brother so long?”
Both Ginny and Percy shrugged their shoulders, though they had different expressions. Percy appeared completely uninterested, while Ginny appeared slightly sheepish, yet had a small smirk on her face.
“Oh~, I wondered what happened?” questioned Fred, a knowing smirk on his face.
Madame Weasley put her hands on her hips and focused a stern glare on her twin boys. “What did you two do to your brother this time?” she demanded, her tone expressing a sort of angry exasperation that seemed like it was probably familiar to the boys.
“Honestly Mum, we didn’t do nothing,” George quickly replied.
“Yeah,” said Fred. “We’d never delay Quidditch for a prank.”
Suddenly there was a loud crash from upstairs, causing us all to jump and look up in worry. Quickly followed by a varying degree of thudding, a body slid into view as they fell down the stairs. Scrambling to his feet with a pained groan, Weasley staggered over to the rest of us.
“Ron, what took you so long? You’ve kept our guests waiting.”
“It wasn’t my fault!” whined Weasley. “My door was jammed with something and I couldn’t get it open!”
Madame Weasley’s eyes swung towards the twins, both who immediately put their hands up in defense. She took a deep breath, but the bristles were taken off her broom when Ginny interrupted. “It was me, Mummy. I stuck a piece of wood under the door.”
Instantly, the ire in Madame Weasley’s eyes vanished. “Ginny dear, you shouldn’t prank your brother.” And just like that, the incident was shoved aside as she faced us all once again. “Now then dears, go have fun, though no roughhousing. I don’t want to have to deal with any injuries.”
“We’ll do our best, Mum,” called out the twins as they headed for another door leading out of the house.
Nodding in acknowledgement, Blaire quickly followed, with the rest of us shuffling after them. The door took us to what I guess was supposed to be the back garden. While large, it was a complete mess. Right outside the door there were several piles of rubber boots and a very rusted cauldron. The so-called garden itself wasn’t much better.
There was an abundance of weeds, tall grass, and gnarled trees, with several plants I recognized from Maman’s own garden. I saw flitterbloom bushes, black pearl pepper, tormentil, and dittany, all surrounding a decently sized pond. Except for the garden plants, the entire garden was poorly attended to and desperately in need of care. The pond was a green color and filled with frogs if the croaking was anything to go by; it had the appearance of a small swamp rather than a garden pond.
Nestled in the back corner of the garden was a small stone shed, which the Weasleys all headed straight towards. The redheaded twins quickly opened the latch, revealing that this was where they stored their brooms. I noticed as they tugged their brooms free, these brooms were clearly well-used judging by the worn looking wood and ill-maintained bristles.
The brooms that Weasley, Percy, and Ginny all grabbed looked exactly like the ones we used to learn to fly at Hogwarts, the Shooting Star broomsticks. Weasley and Percy attempted to smooth out the unruly bristles on their brooms, but it had little effect. Weasley was completely avoiding eye-contact with everyone and was turning red all the way to his ears.
At first I thought he was still embarrassed about his less-than-graceful entrance, but then I saw where he kept looking and realized he was glaring at our brooms. I realized he may be self-conscious about the stark difference between the sleek and polished brooms my brothers had. Even their old brooms that Blaire and I were using appeared new when compared with the brooms the Weasleys used.
Once they were all sorted, the Weasley twins continued to lead the way. Walking through the back garden, we had to be careful where we stepped as there were a shocking number of gnome holes scattered throughout the garden. The tall grass and weeds probably hid even more of them. It was strange to see so many gnomes living so close to a Magical family. Normally they were chased off or worse, though perhaps since this garden clearly wasn’t used that much, Madame Weasley and Monsieur Weasley probably didn’t mind the pests all that much.
This was proven false when I heard the twins muttering about how they just de-gnomed this morning, but already many of the gnome holes were occupied again, going by the bulbous heads peeking out from the dirt holes. Clearly whatever they were doing was not enough, and the fact this appeared to be a daily chore seemed pointless to me.
Reaching the edge of the overgrown garden, we went through a small wooden gate in the decaying fence. While I had been expecting a field or meadow like the many we saw dotting the landscape, I was surprised to find we had entered an orchard shielded by several high and thick trees. They appeared to act as a wall with how the thick leaves and trunks provided privacy from prying eyes; it reminded me of the hedge walls I saw at Malfoy Manor during the Winter Ball.
Alaric and Dustin set down the trunk, with Dustin also taking the Beater bat straps off his wrist and laying them out on the grass.
“So with only five players, I think we should go without Bludgers and Beaters,” suggested Alaric. “That way there will be less chance of injury.”
“That sounds acceptable,” replied Percy, though he appeared greatly relieved. Most likely happy to avoid having to deal with Bludgers, though I fully agreed with that. While Carlisle and Dustin had helped me become a better flyer, I didn’t have the confidence to dodge Bludgers and still play whatever position I was assigned.
“Meaning, we can get three Chasers on each team,” said one of the Weasley twins.
“Which would make things more fun,” continued the other.
“Fain and Gérard will keep score,” stated Blaire.
Ginny then stepped towards the boys in question and held out a chalkboard and a decently sized piece of yellow chalk. “I grabbed this before we left, you both can use it to keep track if you’d like.”
Fain took the board from her with a bright smile, while Gérard spoke. “T-thank you.”
“Now how do we decide who plays what?” asked Carlisle.
“Simple,” replied one of the Weasley twins.
The other twin continued. “Team captains will decide-”
“-who plays what-”
“-and then we play.”
“How about we do family huddles and figure things out amongst ourselves,” suggested Alaric.
“Sounds good, mate,” chorused the Weasley twins.
Thus, my siblings and I moved away from the Weasleys as they huddled together. Alaric took the lead. “Alright, I say the twins and I are the Chasers, Blaire you’ll be the Keeper, and Esme you can be the Seeker.”
“Maybe I should be Keeper,” argued Dustin. “We’ll need a strong defender against whoever the Weasleys have as Chasers."
Blaire quietly interjected. “Actually, Alaric has the right idea. Percy honestly hates flying and finds Quidditch frivolous, he’s said as much to me before. Therefore, he’ll be their Keeper because either Ron or Ginny will be the Seeker, leaving the twins as the main concerns as the Chasers. I can handle being Keeper, but we’ll need all three of you boys as Chasers to work against their natural teamwork.”
“Alright fine,” agreed Dustin.
“Are you okay with being the Seeker, Esme?” asked Alaric.
“ Oui , I’ll do my best,” I promised, with as confident a smile as I could manage despite the nerves rolling around in my stomach.
“You’ll do fine,” encouraged Carlisle. “Just remember what Dustin and I taught: grip with your legs and your left hand when reaching out your right hand to catch the Snitch. If it does dodge you, it’ll go down before it goes up more often than not.”
I nodded my head, though I was still worried about the game. I didn’t want to be the reason we lost. I knew my brothers wouldn’t mind losing, but I also wanted to win.
“Alright, do your best and have fun,” cheered Alaric, before we split up and headed back to the Weasleys. They also split from their huddle and appeared just as excited to get started.
“So quick run down,” explained one of the Weasley twins. “You score ten points when you throw the Quaffle between those two trees.”
“No broom or body slamming, ramming, or bumping,” Alaric added.
“Right, and the game is over when one of the Seekers catches the Snitch,” finished the other Weasley twin.
“Don't fly above those far trees over there,” ordered Percy as he pointed to the tall trees around the orchard, “or else you’ll risk being spotted by a Muggle.”
We all agreed to those rules before mounting our broomsticks. I kicked off the ground, and carefully flew up above where, as Blaire predicted, my brothers were getting set up across from the Weasley twins and Weasley as the Chasers. Percy flew to the far pair of trees, while Blaire went to the others; thus leaving Ginny and I to hover across from each other, above our brothers on the respective sides.
I glanced down and saw Fain and Gérard skip to the center of the field, with Fain holding the Snitch’s golden wings fluttering in his hands, while Gérard cradled the Quaffle in his arms.
“Ready,” shouted Fain, as he released the Snitch. It instantly zipped away, going so fast my eyes lost sight of it.
“Set,” called out Gérard as he bent down.
“Go!” they shouted together as Gérard launched the Quaffle as high as he could into the air.
The boys all dove and swarmed around each other as they fought over the Quaffle. I wobbled slightly when Ginny suddenly shot past me. I carefully turned, shocked and worried that she had already spotted the Snitch. I sighed in relief when I realized she was still looking for it, as she slowed down to zig-zag across the orchard, her head snapping back and forth as she searched.
Ginny clearly had flown before and to my eyes appeared to be quite good at it. She never wobbled or dipped, remaining straight, though she did seem to struggle to maintain a consistent speed as she jerked forward and back whenever she sped up or slowed down suddenly.
I quickly shook my head and gripped onto my broom handle as I refocused on searching for a flash of gold anywhere. I wasn’t able to fly as fast as Ginny appeared to, but I was at least comfortable at moderate speeds - any faster and I started to wobble too much and feared I would fall.
As the game went on, I found it was hard at times to remain focused on finding the Snitch and not get distracted by watching the others flying quickly across the orchard. The boys were quite vocal, either communicating passes and such or taunting the other team’s members. Dustin and who I believed was Fred did most of the taunting. Fain and Gérard helped fill the occasional silence by cheering as loudly as they could - though amusingly, they unabashedly switched who they were cheering for, sometimes they cheered for our brothers and sister, but more often than not they cheered for the Weasley twins.
Based on how often Fain and Gérard shouted “Archard score!”, we were in the lead. Percy may have said he hated flying to Blaire, but he clearly wasn’t good at it either. He was a terrible Keeper, so Alaric, Carlisle, and Dustin easily scored when they got possession of the Quaffle.
Fred and George were working hard themselves, with Weasley doing his best to keep up. However, from what I saw, he often dropped or lost the Quaffle when he had it, so his brothers seemed to do their best to avoid passing it to him and focused on each other. Meanwhile my brothers’ past of playing on the same team showed itself with how seamlessly they worked together.
I honestly didn’t know exactly how long we’d been playing so far, but it had to be a while as the sun was starting to dip down towards the horizon. The good news was that it shined more light into the orchard, so I started noticing flashes of gold where the Snitch was fluttering about. The bad news was, I wasn’t nearly fast enough to catch up to it or get to wherever it paused to hover about. Ginny seemed to have the opposite problem. She never seemed to spot the Snitch on her own as she always reacted after I started moving, but easily overtook me, though would then lose sight of it and so would turn back to watching where I was looking or flying.
I finally spotted the Snitch hovering not too far up above me and thought perhaps I could get to it before Ginny realized what I was doing. However, it wasn’t meant to be as Ginny suddenly appeared out of nowhere and was reaching out for it. She clearly saw it, so I admittedly gave up trying and resigned that I lost to her, though the final winner would be dependent on the final score.
Suddenly, Ginny screamed as she overreached and fell off her broom. My heart jumped into my throat as I saw her hurtling down near me. I quickly reached out and managed to grab hold of her, but I joined Ginny in screaming when I was yanked off my own broom. We clutched onto each other as the ground got closer and closer. I shut my eyes tight and braced for the inevitable painful landing.
“ ARRESTO MOMENTUM ! ”
Ginny and I suddenly slowed down and were cushioned just above the ground. I opened my eyes only to grunt as we were abruptly dropped the last several inches. I laid there, completely frozen as I did my best to catch my breath, though all I could hear were my ragged breaths and my heartbeat racing in my ears, the back of Ginny's shirt still held tightly in my hand.
Suddenly there were hands on me and as I carefully lifted and was soon crushed into Blaire’s arms. I blinked and realized she was speaking to me.
“-Si Alaric n’avait pas jeté ce sort, alors…je ne sais pas quoi…S’il vous plaît dites-moi que vous allez bien, petite papillon. Est-ce que quelque chose fait mal? Dites quelque chose, petite soeur!”
“Bee, you’re talking too fast,” interjected Alaric, kneeling next to us. “Take a breath, I got her.” Alaric took me from Blaire and cradled me in his arms. “Now, are you two alright?”
“I’m fine. I’m s-so sorry, this is all my fault!” sobbed Ginny from where she was being held up by Fred and George. “I just wanted to win so bad…and then I made Esme fall with me! I-I-”
“It’s okay, I’m fine too,” I interrupted, thankful that my voice sounded more grounded than I felt. “Whoever cast that spell saved us from any injury."
"That would be me, petite papillon ,” replied Alaric. “I’m just glad you’re both alright.”
Dustin clapped Alaric on the back, and I realized that everyone else was crowded around us. “You saved them both! And all with a wandless spell!”
“That was bloody brilliant!” cheered one of the Weasley twins.
“Thank you, for saving our sister,” Percy said earnestly. “Honestly, I think this was more than enough excitement and reckless actions for one day. The game is over and we best clean up to return to our respective homes.”
“Aw~ come one Percy, we can still keep going,” complained one of the Weasley twins.
“Actually,” Ginny interrupted, a sheepish smile on her splotchy face. She then lifted up her hand and revealed the Snitch clutched between her fingers.
Carlisle chuckled. “Well, that would be game over. Alright, petits frères , who won?”
Fain and Gérard huddled over the chalkboard and did their math. They then handed it over to Blaire and she double-checked it for them without a word. She raised an eyebrow before revealing the board. “Final score, Weasleys two hundred fifty, Archards two hundred sixty.”
“Bloody hell, we just need two more bloody goals!” loudly complained Weasley, while the twins groaned in dismay and Ginny almost looked guilty.
Carlisle and Dustin meanwhile were high-fiving each other and slapping Alaric on the back, who had a large smile on his face. He gently helped me to my feet, wordlessly signalling the others to do the same. I myself laughed alongside Blaire at the turn of events. It went to show that Quidditch victories weren’t just decided by who caught the Snitch.
Blaire ushered the boys to stop celebrating and sent them to help gather up the Quaffle and everyone’s wayward broomsticks, leaving Ginny and I standing on the sidelines by ourselves since Fain and Gérard went with the Weasley twins to help.
“Thank you, really, for trying to save me. It was really brave of you. Sorry I just dragged you down with me.”
I felt my cheeks warm in embarrassment. Clearing my throat, I tossed my tangled hair over my shoulder, glancing away from Ginny. “Honestly, I was the one who grabbed onto you, so that was hardly your fault.” I turned my head back to her. “Just don’t be so reckless next time. Like your brother said, it’s just a game, no use hurting yourself over it.”
Suddenly, she hugged me and after a second, I hugged her back. Finally, she pulled back and I softened at the bright smile on her red face. “Still…good job on catching the Snitch. It certainly didn’t make it easy for us.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, before glancing over to where my brothers were walking back over with brooms slung over their shoulders. “Your brother is so amazing for what he did.” I was amused when I saw the red start to creep all the way up to her ears. Internally I snickered - perhaps Alaric had a little fan now.
Once everyone was back, Ginny remembered to hand over the Snitch to Alaric - completely avoiding eye contact with him. Going by badly hidden snickers from Fred and George, I wasn’t the only one who thought Alaric gained a fan today.
We quickly packed everything up and made our way back to The Burrow. Honestly Percy was right, that was more than enough excitement for one day, and I was very ready to go to bed tonight.
Madame Weasley was waiting for us inside. After Fred and George dramatically retold her what happened, she started fretting over Ginny while at the same time profusely thanking Alaric for saving her youngest. Alaric channelled all his lessons and was the perfect charming and humble gentleman in return - he even made Madame Weasley blush alongside her daughter.
Blaire then interjected herself with a suggestion that took me by complete surprise. “If you’d like to thank my brother, perhaps you and your family could join ours for dinner in the near future? I know our mother would be happy to host as she’s been wanting to reconnect with those she once knew.”
“Oh my, well certainly, dear. We’d love to!”
She definitely did look enthusiastic, if a bit nervous about the idea. I did wonder what Blaire was aiming at - Maman may be open to this idea, but Papa…definitely not.
“Mother will send an owl with the details promptly, so Mister Weasley can attend despite his no doubt busy work schedule,” said Blaire. “I know the Ministry certainly keeps Father busy.”
“Yes, of course, dear. See you all soon!” Madame Weasley cheerfully waved at us as we made our retreat, with her children also waving us out after a sharp look from their mother. Even Weasley waved us off, though he pointedly avoided looking me in the eye. It suited me just fine, I’d rather he avoided me than glare at me like he usually did when we were at Hogwarts - it made me avoiding him easier.
As we made our way back to Heaven’s Garden, Dustin broke the silence. “Are you sure a dinner party is a good idea? It’s one thing for us to play Quidditch with the Weasleys, it’s another to have them over when Father has made it clear he doesn’t want just anyone entering the grounds.”
“Mother made the suggestion to me, and she wouldn’t suggest it if Father wasn’t already on board, so this will happen.”
Dustin coughed into his sleeve, clearly not in agreement with Blaire. I thought she made a valid point, Maman wouldn’t do something Papa was against…at least, I didn’t think so. Either way it looked like I would have to deal with seeing Weasley again before we went back to Hogwarts. I sighed to myself in exasperation. I’d rather wish it wasn’t so, but at least I could get to know Ginny a bit more.
A large smirk overtook my face as I realized something else - I would get to see Blaire and George interact better than I did today. I may have promised not to tease Blaire anymore, but our brothers didn’t, so all I had to do was sit back and enjoy the show. Oh~, now I was looking forward to whenever this dinner party would take place!
Soon we made it back to Heaven’s Garden, but I was confused when I saw Papa standing on the steps of the mansion, a thunderous expression on his face. He stood as still as stone with his arms crossed. As we approached the steps, he tossed a piece of parchment into the air without a word. It hovered for a second before it unfolded into the appearance of a face. A woman’s voice read out:
Dear Lord Archard,
We have received intelligence that the Slowing Charm was used by a member of your household, one Heir Alaric Archard, at twenty-two minutes past four this evening in a non-magical protected area. Since this was the first offense committed, Heir Alaric Archard will be left with a simple warning.
As you know, underage witches and wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and further spellwork by Heir Alaric Archard may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underaged Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).
We would also humbly ask you to remind all members of your household that any magical activity which risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense, under Section 13 of the International Statute of Magical Secrecy.
Thank you for your time,
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkirk
Improper Use of Magic Office
Ministry of Magic
I had honestly forgotten we weren’t allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts, and grew worried for Alaric. While the Ministry would let him off with just a warning, Papa did not look so forgiving.
“Father it was extenuating circumstances, an emergency. I had to use magic and I don’t regret the fact that I did.”
“Explain, now,” commanded Papa.
“Ginerva fell off her broom. Esme tried to grab her, but she fell too. I used the Slowing Charm to save them from hitting the ground.”
“He did it wandless too,” added Carlisle.
The sharp look fell from Papa’s face. “Were either of the girls hurt?”
“No,” replied Blaire. “They’re both fine. Right, Esme?”
“ Oui , I’m fine, Papa.”
“Then well done, Alaric. Now go clean yourselves up, dinner will be served within the hour.”
We all acknowledged his words and quickly followed him inside, making our way up to our respective rooms. I was really glad that Papa didn’t punish Alaric for using magic. Honestly if we were in France, it wouldn’t have been an issue to begin with. England really had some outdated rules in my opinion. Still, Alaric saved us, and quite impressively at that. It was just another instance of him being there for me; I could always trust him to look out for me, no matter our Hogwarts Houses, no matter anything, because as Archards We Stand Strong.
Madame = Mrs.
Pardonnez-moi = pardon me
Oui = yes
Si Alaric n’avait pas jeté ce sort, alors…je ne sais pas quoi… = If Alaric hadn’t cast that spell, then…I don’t know what…
S’il vous plaît dites-moi que vous allez bien, petite papillon. = Please tell me you’re fine, little butterfly.
Est-ce que quelque chose fait mal? = Does something hurt?
Dites quelque chose, petite soeur! = Say something, little sister!
Petite papillon = little butterfly
Petits frères = little brothers
Chapter 4: The Dinner Party
Chapter Text
Harry POV
George had said we would arrive at their house in about ten minutes or so. As a pinkish glow was visible along the horizon to the east, I thought I could finally look through the letters Dobby had stolen. When Aunt Petunia had found them after Dobby disappeared, she locked them in the cupboard under the stairs with my school things.
I carefully undid the string holding them all together and shuffled through them. Setting aside the ones from Ron, I saw most of the bundle were actually from Hermione, a few from Neville and Hagrid, and to my shock, there was a letter from Esme. I reached to open it when I felt the car begin to lower. Looking out the window, I saw a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.
“We’re a little way outside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole,” said George.
Fred took the flying car lower and lower. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees. “Touchdown!” exclaimed Fred, and with a slight bump, we hit the ground.
We landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and just a bit further was the Weasley’s house.
I hadn’t known what to imagine when I thought of a wizarding house, but looking at the Weasley’s home, I knew it just had to be magical, there was no way it would exist without magic. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read The Burrow , and there were several fat brown chickens pecking their way around the yard as we got out of the car.
“Now, we’ll get inside and really quietly go upstairs,” said Fred, as he and George helped me get my things out of the boot, “and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast. Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, ‘Mum, look who turned up in the night!’ and she’ll be all pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know we flew the car.”
Fred and George led the way to the house. One of the twins reached in through the door window to unlock the door. “Come on. Okay, come. Sh~!” he whispered back as he waved the rest of us inside after checking that the coast was clear. “Okay, come on.”
I carefully moved past him inside, quickly taking everything in. While Number Four Privet Drive was cold and obsessively clean with pastel colours, The Burrow appeared warm and lived in; it felt like a home. My eyes were instantly caught by a pan getting scrubbed clean by magic, reminding me that this definitely wasn’t a Muggle home, but a wizarding one.
Ron came up next to me munching on a scone. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
“I think it’s…brilliant,” I replied with a wide smile, one which Ron soon returned. Suddenly, Ron’s face turned a nasty greenish colour, as the pounding of feet on wood sounded from nearby. I turned around to see a short, plump, kind faced woman, remarkably looking similar to a saber-toothed tiger as she marched down the last of the stairs.
“Oh, dear,” one of the twins muttered behind me.
Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring down at each of us. “Where, have, you, been?” she said, enunciating each word in anger. She suddenly smiled sweetly as her eyes landed on me. “Harry, how wonderful to see you dear.” She then turned back to the others. “Beds empty! No note! Car gone! You could’ve died! You could’ve been seen!” She turned back to me. “Of course, I don’t blame you, Harry dear.”
“They were starving him, Mum!” Ron spoke up, “There were bars on his window!” I flinched at the reminder, though I didn’t think anyone noticed.
“Well, you’d best hope that I don’t put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley!” Her tone once again became soft as she addressed me. “Care for a spot of tea, Harry?”
Mrs. Weasley quickly ushered us all to chairs at the long wooden table while she clattered around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly both on her own and with magic. All the while she would throw dirty looks at her three sons and muttered things like ‘don’t know what you were thinking of’, and ‘never would have believed it’ under her breath.
Percy soon joined us, barely reacting when he saw me at the table. Not that I minded, I always did appreciate how Percy continuously treated me like everyone else, only caring if anyone was breaking the rules. Other than a snide look when he figured out what his brothers did, he left it alone and dug into his own breakfast.
Mrs. Weasley cooked enough food to more than feed even the Dursleys’ appetite, though Ron and his brothers were certainly putting a decent dent into everything. Mrs. Weasley kept shoving food on my plate. Clearly, she registered what Ron had said about the Dursleys starving me.
I paused from eating when a small redheaded girl in a long nightdress appeared in the kitchen. She took one look at me and gave a small squeal before running out again.
“W-what did I do?”
“That was Ginny, my sister,” explained Ron. “She’s been talking about you all summer. Bit annoying really.”
“Yeah, she’ll be wanting your autograph, Harry,” Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother’s eye and bent his face over his plate without another word.
Nothing more was said, even as Ginny returned, having changed into a jumper and pants, and tucked into her own plate of food. In a surprisingly short time, all six plates were emptied. Mrs. Weasley casually flicked her wand at the dishes, which all piled into the sink before they began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.
“Blimey, I’m tired,” yawned George, his jaw making a small cracking noise. “I think I’ll go to bed and-”
“You will do no such thing,” snapped Mrs. Weasley. “It’s your own fault you’ve been up all night. Now, the three of you who absconded into the night are going to de-gnome the garden; they’re getting completely out of hand again-”
“Oh~, Mum~,” groaned Ron.
“There will be none of that,” she scolded. “Once you’re finished then you’ll get yourselves cleaned up. We’re having dinner with the Archards tonight and I won’t have any of you embarrassing us in front of Lord and Lady Archard, so best clothes.” She then turned to me, “You can go up to bed, dear. You didn’t ask them to fly that wretched car-”
I interrupted her quickly, feeling wide awake ever since she mentioned the dinner with the Archards. “I’ll help Ron. I’ve never seen a de-gnoming before.”
“That’s very sweet of you, dear, but it’s dull work.” She then took a large book from a stack on the mantelpiece.
The twins both groaned. “Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden.”
They quickly scurried out the back door without another word. Mrs. Weasley huffed, but didn’t stop them, so Ron and I quickly hurried after them. Gnomes were not at all like how I thought they’d be, and the process of getting rid of them was nothing like I expected either, though quite fun if I was being honest. We spent the better part of the morning and afternoon tossing the gnomes as far as we could, seeing who could throw the farthest.
We were watching the last of the gnomes stagger their way into the hedge-line on the other side of the field, when the sound of a door slamming rang out.
“He’s back!” exclaimed George. “Dad’s home!”
Ron and the twins hurried through the garden and back into the house. I hesitated for a moment before following after them. Inside the kitchen, Mr. Weasley was slumped in one of the chairs with his eyes closed, looking pretty tired, his long green robes dusty and travel-worn. “What a night,” he mumbled, groping for the cup of tea Mrs. Weasley just sat on the table for him. “Nine raids. Nine!”
I sat down next to Ron at the table, and whispered to him, “Raids?”
“Dad works in the Ministry of Magic. In the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office,” he whispered back as Mr. Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed. “Dad loves Muggles. Thinks they're fascinating.”
“Find anything, Dad?” Fred eagerly asked.
“All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle,” yawned Mr. Weasley. “There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn’t my department though, thank Merlin…”
“Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?” asked George.
“Just Muggle-baiting,” sighed Mr. Weasley. “Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it. Of course, it’s very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking. They’ll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they’ll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it’s staring them in the face…but the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe-”
“Like cars , for instance?” asked Mrs. Weasley in a biting voice, holding her wand out as if it was a sword.
Mr. Weasley’s eyes jerked open, as he stared guiltily at his wife. “C-cars, Molly dear?”
“Yes, Arthur, cars,” she said, her eyes flashing. “Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly.”
Mr. Weasley blinked. “Well, dear, I think you’ll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if - er~ - he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth…There’s a loophole in the law, you’ll find…As long as he wasn’t intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn’t-”
“ Arthur Weasley , you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!” shouted Mrs. Weasley. “Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren’t intending to fly!”
“Harry?” asked Mr. Weasley blankly. “Harry who?”
He looked around and startled when his eyes landed on me. “Good lord, are you really?” I awkwardly nodded my head, slightly worried at the reaction I was about to get from him, but internally sighed in relief when he didn’t react like the other wizards I had met last year in Diagon Alley. “Very pleased to meet you, Harry, Ron’s told us all about you, of course.”
“Your sons flew that car to Harry’s house and back last night!” shouted Mrs. Weasley, bringing us back to the point she was trying to make. “What have you got to say about that, eh?”
“Did you really? How’d it go?” asked Mr. Weasley eagerly. Mrs. Weasley lightly smacked his back with a wooden spoon that seemed to appear in her hand out of nowhere. Mr. Weasley faltered as he corrected himself, “I mean...that was very wrong, indeed, boys. Very wrong of you. Now, Harry, you must know all about Muggles. Tell me, what exactly is the function of a rubber duck?”
I was completely thrown off by the sudden question. “Oh, um…”
“There’s no time for that now, Arthur. Save your questions for later, we have dinner with the Archards tonight. I need to finish these pies, and everyone needs to get cleaned up and dressed. Chop, chop!”
Ron slapped my shoulder with his hand. “Come one, I’ll show you my bedroom.”
We slipped out of the kitchen to an uneven staircase which wound its way upward, zigzagging as it rose. On the third landing, a door stood ajar. I caught sight of a pair of bright brown eyes staring out before it closed with a snap.
“Ginny,” said Ron. “You don’t know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally.”
We climbed two more flights until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small plaque on it, saying Ronald’s Room . I stepped in and blinked. It was like walking into a furnace, as nearly everything in Ron’s room seemed to be a violent shade of orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling.
I then realized that Ron had covered nearly every inch of the wallpaper with posters of the same seven witches and wizards, all wearing bright orange robes, carrying broomsticks, and waving energetically. “Your Quidditch team?”
“The Chudley Cannons,” said Ron, pointing at the orange bedspread, which was emblazoned with two giant black C’s and a speeding cannonball. “Ninth in the league.”
Ron’s school spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of chocolate frog trading cards. His magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frog spawn on the windowsill, next to his fat gray rat Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun.
“It’s a bit small,” said Ron quickly. “Not like that room you had with the Muggles. And I’m right underneath the ghoul in the attic. He’s always banging on the pipes and groaning…"
I grinned honestly. “This is the best house I’ve ever been in.” Ron’s ears went pink, but a pleased smile overcame his face, so I knew he was happy.
We found my trunk shoved off to the side, so we each went about trying to find something to wear for tonight. From what I saw, Dudley’s old clothes were in even worse shape than Ron’s hand-me-downs. I’d always hated how they hung off my thin frame. Remembering the nice quality of Esme’s clothing, I was embarrassed that they were all I had for a fancy dinner party I was crashing. Still they were all I had, as it was too warm to wear the sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted for me last Christmas.
At least I wouldn’t be smelly anymore after a proper wash. Ron showed me where the bathroom was. It was small, with everything barely fitting inside, but I didn’t mind the old pipes or slightly rusted tub because I got to shower with hot water for as long as I wanted. Still, I didn’t let myself stay in there too long and quickly scrubbed up, as I didn’t want to use up too much of the hot water. The Weasleys were being so nice to let me stay here, an entire month before we were set to leave for Hogwarts. I had to make sure not to overstay my welcome and help out wherever I could.
Once we were both clean, we went about getting dressed. Ron was nice enough and let me borrow a few of his things that were on the smaller side. They actually fit me pretty well, much better than Dudley’s old things, and I marveled at not having to roll anything up or be weighed down by the extra material.
“Boys! Get down here! It’s time to go!” Mrs. Weasley called up.
Ron groaned from where he was sprawled out on his bed. “I don’t get why Mum agreed to this. Playing Quidditch with them is one thing, but a fancy dinner party is just unbearable.”
“I mean, I’m not too excited about it, but who knows, it might not be so bad. You did say you had fun playing Quidditch with them earlier,” I replied as we made our way out of Ron’s bedroom and down the stairs.
Ron still didn’t appear too happy, but at least stayed quiet when we got to the bottom of the stairs where the rest of his family was waiting. Mrs. Weasley, while fretting over everyone’s appearance, also appeared very excited. Mr. Weasley meanwhile was calm as he ushered his wife and the rest of us out the door and over to where the car still sat from this morning.
Mrs. Weasley put a large picnic basket into the trunk while the rest of us squeezed into the car - which shockingly seemed to magically expand on the inside to make sure we all fit comfortably. Mr. Weasley obviously had done more than just make the car fly.
Finally, we were ready to go. I fully expected for the car to take off into the sky, but was surprised when Mr. Weasley drove out of The Burrow’s driveway the Muggle way.
“The Archards live just on the other side of those woods,” George pointed out to me through the window.
“Close enough to walk,” added Fred, “but Mum didn’t want to get mud on anything.”
“It will be dark when we return and would be completely irresponsible to try and walk back in without proper lighting,” interjected Percy.
“Whatever, Percy,” said George “You can’t deny Mum is in a tizzy about this.”
“Mother is rightly enthused. She was a Prewett after all, and likely misses attending social events.”
“We agree Mum needs to get out more,” replied Fred, who kept his voice down to avoid being heard by his parents up front. “But no way does she miss those stuck-up parties I heard about from some of the girls in Gryffindor.”
“That’s your opinion,” Percy snapped. “I for one would be honored to attend something like the annual Winter Ball or even the Ministry’s Midsummer Ball.”
“That’s your opinion,” mocked George, doing a poor imitation of Percy’s voice.
I saw Percy’s face turn red, like Ron’s does when he was about ready to snap, and worried if I should do something or not.
“Boys!” reprimanded Mrs. Weasley. “There will be no fighting tonight, or so help me, I will smack your wand hands good with a spoon!”
“Yes, Mum,” they all chorused. Silence reigned the rest of the car ride and I desperately hoped we got there soon, as the once oddly spacious car felt too small now. The only one who didn’t appear to be sulking from the reprimand was Ron’s sister Ginny, who was vibrating in her seat in front of me. She never once looked back at the rest of the entire ride and remained entirely focused on the view outside her window.
At long last, Mr. Weasley turned off the dirt road and onto a long, paved driveway. We passed under a large metal gate, and I could’ve sworn I saw something like a ripple, but figured I just had a smudge on my glasses I needed to polish off. Trees lined up parallel to the long driveway until the path curved around a large fountain and walkway set up in the center like an island. The evening sun lit everything up, causing the water shooting out of the fountain to sparkle.
I was amazed by the manicured lawn and front grounds, thinking that Aunt Petunia would eat her own hat in jealousy at the beautiful flower beds. But then my eyes finally landed on the house, and I couldn't believe I missed it! It wasn’t a house; it was a mansion - it was so huge! I knew Esme had to come from a well-off family for Malfoy to be so respectful of her, but I never imagined her family was filthy rich!
Mr. Weasley stopped the car in front of the steps leading to the large front doors. We all filed out without a word, though I couldn’t help but stare at the front. I felt intimidated by the look of the place, and quickly started smoothing my hair down in an attempt to make it look less messy. I felt my hair spring back up like it always did and gave up.
George came up next to me and rubbed his hand hard on my head. “Don’t worry, Harry. Despite how it looks, remember that Blaire, Alaric, and their siblings aren’t stuck up pricks. Just be polite like you always are and you’ll be fine.”
I felt some of my nerves settle with George’s words, though it mostly helped that he reminded me that I wasn’t alone. I had Ron and the rest of the Weasleys with me, and by the look of Mrs. Weasley’s fretting, I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley led the way up the stairs, the eight of us easily fitting on the front landing between two large potted plants. I ended up near the front just behind Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with Ron. Mr. Weasley raised a hand and used the intricate metal knocker on the right door. A few moments later the door opened.
I stared in shock down at the one who answered the door - it was a house-elf!
“Are you the Weasleys?” asked the elf in a gruff voice, which sounded like he’d rather be anywhere else besides speaking to us. He looked entirely different from Dobby with his older, more wrinkly face, large yet beady eyes, and the fancy butler looking suit instead of the gross pillowcase Dobby wore.
“Yes, we are,” replied Mrs. Weasley.
“Right this way. Master and Mistress will be with you shortly.”
Third Person POV
The Weasleys and Harry Potter all shuffled through the door Paddy held open for them.
“Can Paddy take anyone’s coats?” Paddy asked after he shut the front door with a soft click.
The Weasleys and Harry all either shook their heads in denial or verbally said so to the small and old elf - no one brought a jacket with them. Only Molly brought something with her, the wicker basket which carefully held the four pies she spent the afternoon baking.
Ashton and Diaspora then entered from the left of the Weasleys, arm in arm as they greeted their guests. “Welcome to Heaven’s Garden,” greeted Ashton, not bothering to force a smile and instead appeared as politely blank as always. “I am Lord Ashton Archard, and this is my Lady Wife, Diaspora.”
Diaspora on the other hand, smiled brightly and warmly at their guests. “We’re so happy to have you in our home.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” Arthur replied, with a jolly if slightly uncomfortable smile. “I’m Arthur, this is my wife, Molly, and then our children, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny. We also brought along our house-guest, Harry Potter.”
“I made some pies for dessert,” Molly said as she held up the basket she clutched with both hands. “There’s strawberry and cream, treacle, lemon meringue, and apple pie.”
“How lovely! Thank you for going through such trouble.” Diaspora thanked Molly for the desserts, yet made no move to take the basket from her. “Honny,” she called out.
Honny, a young looking house-elf appeared, dressed in a miniature chef’s outfit with multiple splatters of food stuck to her long front apron. “What can Honny do for Mistress?” asked the house-elf politely in a high bell-like voice.
“Please take the basket of pies from Madame Weasley, and set them aside for dessert,” Diaspora gently ordered.
“Right away, Mistress!” cheered Honny. She approached Molly and held out her hands in a grabbing motion. “Honny will take good care of your pies.” Molly smiled down at the young elf and carefully handed over the basket. The dinner guests all poorly hid their surprise when the small elf easily handled the basket as if it weighed nothing.
Honny,” Ashton suddenly commanded the little elf’s attention. “ Assurez-vous de vérifier s’il y a des poisons et des potions dans les tartes .” The Weasleys and Harry all blinked in confusion at the sudden change in language, but weren’t given time to process as the conversation quickly continued.
“Honny will, Master.” She then Disapparated with a soft pop.
“Now then, please follow us to the dining room,” intoned Ashton, before turning and walking through to the dining room, with Diaspora still gently cradled on his arm. He whispered to his wife, “I wasn’t expecting the Potter Heir Apparent this evening.”
“Neither was I, though one extra person won’t be any trouble,” Diaspora whispered back. “I already had Dimper and Honny prepare more than enough food as Alaric and Blaire had mentioned the Weasley boys had quite the appetites.”
Inside the dining room, the Archard children all quietly waited, standing at attention in front of their designated chairs for the evening. Diaspora had planned ahead and prepared for Arthur and Molly to sit with them at the far end of the table, with some extra seats between the adults and children for some measure of conversational privacy.
A couple of seats down from Diaspora’s place stood Alaric next to a seat left open for Percy, so Percy could be seated near his agemates. Next to the open seat was Carlisle and then Dustin - for once seated next to each other. Next to Dustin was another empty seat, though this was for Ginevra, with Fain and Gérard set to sit on her other side.
On the other side of the table, Blaire stood with a few seats between where Molly and Arthur were marked to sit. Next to her were seats intended for George and Fred. Past these two opened place settings stood Esme by her chair with another opened place next to her for Ronald. After his designated spot were Henrik, Isabelle, and Janette.
With a flick of her wand, Diaspora arranged for another place setting to arrange itself on the table on the end next to Gérard and for the place cards to alter themselves to indicate where her youngest children needed to move. The triplets smoothly moved down one, with Janette moving over to be across from her sister and next to Gérard. All this to ensure Heir Apparent Harry Potter could sit near his agemates. They were all surprised to see Harry there, but no one made a noise. As their etiquette lessons dictated, they were not to speak until addressed or until dinner was served and polite chit chat was welcomed.
“Please have a seat,” Diaspora directed. “There are place cards set up as a guide.”
Ashton led Diaspora over to their seats, leaving Diaspora at the seat to his right while he stood at the chair at the head of the table. Molly and Arthur quickly found their places. Molly’s lips pressed together firmly as she fought off the urge to frown at the small slight of Arthur not being seated to Lord Ashton’s left; instead she was seated there and Arthur was next to her. Arthur didn’t even notice, and remained blissfully unaware.
With the Weasleys and Harry now standing behind their chairs, Ashton finally directed everyone to be seated. Everyone happily took their seats, some more pleased than others to finally be able to sit down. As if they too were waiting for the cue, Honny, Dimper and the other kitchen house-elf all came into the dining room floating multiple silver trays and dishes with steaming food.
In honour of the Weasleys joining them for dinner, Diaspora had directed the kitchen house-elves to prepare a feast of traditional British recipes, as well as some basics she knew her five youngest would enjoy. There was a large roasted lemon turkey, Lancashire hotpot, kidney and steak pies, and shepherd pies all paired with an assortment of roasted vegetables, garden green salad with olive dressing, mashed potatoes, and homemade buttery cobs.
Ashton took the traditional first helping of food as the head of the hosting family. The Weasley boys and their house-guest quickly followed suit and began serving themselves helpings of all the mouth-watering food. Now Molly Weasley was no slouch in the kitchen, and all her family loved her food, but there was just something about food prepared by house-elves that was undeniably delicious.
While the adults began a polite, and tense, discussion amongst themselves, Alaric took it upon himself to begin discussion amongst the children. “So Harry, we weren’t expecting to see you this evening. When did you arrive at The Burrow?”
Harry swallowed his mouthful of steak and kidney pie before answering. “Just this morning. Honestly it was all rather last minute.”
“You bet,” added Fred. “Good thing we did too, his relatives were keeping locked up tight like a Muggle convict.”
“Well, your relatives' strictness aside, we’re glad you could join us,” Blaire said politely with a warm smile on her face. “Mother had the house-elves cook more than enough food.”
“How many house-elves do you have?” asked Ginevra curiously.
“Ginny!” reprimanded Percy. “Don’t be rude!”
“It’s fine, Percy,” Blaire quickly reassured her fellow soon to be Sixth-Year.
Carlisle and Dustin picked up Ginevra’s question. “Let’s see…we got three elves in the kitchen,” started Carlisle.
“Then two more who take care of the outside gardens and grounds,” added Dustin.
Carlisle thought for a second before continuing, “Our parents each have their own personal elf-”
“-and then two more which take care of the inside of the manor itself,” finished Dustin.
“And then there’s Zimpsy who takes care of us,” Janette cheerfully added.
“Woah~,” Ginny gasped in amazement. “That’s a lot of house-elves. I know Mummy sometimes wishes for one, but then she says that’s why she had so many boys, to give them chores to help out.”
“Yeah, Mum’s got terrible timing with those. We spent the better part of the day de-gnoming the garden again,” complained George.
A confused look overcame Esme’s face. “But didn’t you just do so the day before we played Quidditch last week? It seems awfully soon for the gnomes to have already returned.”
“Yeah, that’s because Dad’s too soft with them,” answered Ronald, with his mouth full of food. “He thinks they’re funny.”
“Swallow before you speak!” hissed Percy at his younger brother. Ronald ignored his brother as his eyes were fixed on Esme, who had pointedly ignored his reply and instead turned towards his younger sister and asked if she was excited to start her first year at Hogwarts in a month.
“Well…” Ginevra trailed off.
“No fair!” interjected Fain. “We have to wait a whole other year before we get to go!”
“Y-yeah,” agreed Gérard. “You’re lucky you get to go.”
“If you’d like, I’ll write to you this year until you can go to Hogwarts next year?” offered Ginevra, a shy but excited smile on her face.
“Sure!” accepted Fain, his twin nodding his head in agreement. “Esme already writes to us during the school year, but we’d love another person to hear from.”
“W-what House do you think you’ll be?” asked Gérard.
“Probably, Gryffindor,” replied Ginevra in a soft voice.
“What makes you say that?” asked Henrik.
“Because it’s the best House there is!” replied Ronald. “We’ve won the House Cup this past year and everything!” He continued to eat completely unaware of how all the Archards froze, a tenseness overcoming them at the mention of the forbidden subject. Esme gripped onto her silverware as fire ignited in her green eyes.
“What he meant is that Gryffindors tend to run in the family,” George quickly interjected after seeing the upset tenseness of Blaire’s shoulders and the concern misting in her beautiful blue eyes.
“Yeah, though Dad and Mum would be fine with any of the Houses for Ginny,” added Fred, following his twin’s lead in hopes of moving past this subject. Sadly, their younger brother foolishly remained ignorant of the mood his thoughtless words were causing.
“No they wouldn’t. Mum would probably send a Howler if she ended up a snake in bloody Slytherin.”
“Ron!” whispered Harry harshly, worried of the reaction Ronald’s opinion would invoke, remembering the protective temper Alaric had shown to him before over Esme.
“What?” asked Ronald, face completely clueless as he finally stopped eating and saw the worried and angry stares and glares boring into him.
Esme was practically vibrating in her seat as she still refused to turn to her left and face Ronald. Meanwhile, Percy scooted away from Alaric, as he practically felt the anger rolling off Alaric’s form.
“So,” Carlisle suddenly said in a clearly fake chipper voice. “Who do you think will win this year's British-Irish League Cup?”
Like broken glass the overbearing mood shattered and vanished, as most followed Carlisle’s lead and quickly moved on from the conversational faux pas Ronald Weasley continuously seemed to step in.
“The Montrose Magpies have won the most League Cups, so I’d say they have a fair shot,” supplied Blaire, before taking a bite of potatoes.
“Yeah, but Tutshill Tornadoes have won the past two years,” argued Dustin. “I say they have the best chance and will work hard to win for the third win in a row.”
Fred made a tsking noise. “Yeah, but our old Housemate Angelina Johnson just graduated and last I heard joined the Holyhead Harpies as their new Chaser. She’s vicious on her own, but can whip those other girls into a frenzy. I wouldn’t count the Harpies out of the running this year.”
“Wasn’t she that girl who got kicked off the Gryffindor team by Madame Pomfrey for being too aggressive to the point of reckless self-endangerment to the point of countless sustained injuries?” asked Carlisle.
“And the only reason Alaric could play Quidditch with his ami intime ?” asked Dustin with a snide smirk scrawled across his face.
The Weasley twins both chuckled. “Yeah, that was her,” answered George. “Real spitfire, that one. Never wanted to be on her bad side.”
“She sounds amazing,” admired Ginevra, while Isabelle nodded her head in agreement.
“Quidditch is such a violent game,” remarked Percy. “I prefer more sophisticated activities to fill my time. Studying for instance is very important during the school year, Ginny. It’s how I got twelve O.W.L.s last year. Very few can boast of such an achievement.”
Fred and George snorted. “Don’t let Perfect Percy convince you to suck out all the fun,” advised Fred to Ginevra mainly, but to any of the younger kids.
“Yeah,” agreed George. “Studying’s boring.”
“I quite like studying. You can learn so many new things from books,” commented Blaire with a passionate tone.
“I mean, studying can be fun with the right person,” corrected George, gazing at Blaire - the two of them then trapped staring into each other’s eyes.
“Blaire got twelve O.W.L.s too!” Alaric quickly added, his light tone not matching the fire brewing in his face as he stared down George Weasley - the promise of pain in his eyes. George cleared his throat and looked away from Blaire, looking across the table for help from Carlisle and Dustin, but blinked back when he found those two were also staring intensely at him.
“Wow, you must be really smart then,” commented Ginevra. George internally blessed his sister for unknowingly coming to his aid.
“That’s our Blaire,” Esme added, a smile finally breaking across her face for the first time since the beginning of dinner.
“Perhaps Professor McGonagall will award you the open female prefect position,” suggested Percy. “I wouldn’t mind your assistance keeping order and the rule-breakers in line.” A pointed look being sent his youngest brother’s and Harry’s way. Both boys shuffled in their seats, and while Harry at least appeared slightly guilty, Ronald utterly looked unashamed of himself.
“Well the decision is hers, though I wouldn’t mind it if it were to happen,” admitted Blaire. “I guess we shall see when the Hogwarts letters are sent out. They should be arriving any day now.”
Any further discussion was halted when a bell was run. The children all looked to the head of the table where their respective parents sat. Lord Ashton Archard then asked them collectively, “Is everyone ready for dessert?”
The children glanced at their empty plates and the surprisingly almost bare platters. They all then either nodded their heads or verbally replied they were ready - everyone’s mind instantly eagerly thinking of the prospective desserts.
With a snap of Ashton’s fingers, the same three house-elves from before appeared through the kitchen door. Various snaps of their fingers occurred, resulting in the plates, platters, and dirty silverware all floating away into the kitchen to be cleaned.
The eldest looking house-elf dressed in a chef’s outfit with a large pin shining from his collar stepped forward and announced, “There’s be four different dessert pies to choose from. All made by Madame Molly Weasley. Strawberry and Cream, Apple, Treacle, and Lemon Meringue, all paired with freshly made vanilla gelato by Honny.”
“Thank you, Dimper,” replied Diaspora, happy to hear that all the pies passed Ashton’s rigorous standards. Dimper wouldn’t have offered to serve any of them otherwise.
After a small bow, the now named Dimper continued, “Please think loudly the flavour you want and we will serves it to you.”
Everyone thought of the single or multiple slices of pie they wanted. Another series of snaps sounded as dessert plates ladened with various flavours of pie, all with a scoop of gelato, floated gently out from the kitchen straight to the intended recipient. Depending on the demand of certain flavours, some of the pieces were larger or smaller, as the house-elves made sure that everyone got a piece of the pie they mentally requested. Any pie left over could either be picked at by anyone still hungry or wrapped up as take-away for the dinner guests.
Everyone happily dug into the homemade desserts. Various hums echoed amongst the children, either for the pies or the gelato - some sort of new treat for everyone at the table. Harry was especially enjoying his slice of treacle tart and gelato, surprised to find he liked it so much more than regular ice cream.
“Honny’s gelato is the absolute best!” declared Isabelle. “This summer, she even figured out how to use chocolate frogs to make an even better chocolate gelato. Which was great cause Henrik and I got to keep all the collectable cards!”
“Oh, you collect those cards? Ron does too,” Ginny added. “He has a whole bunch of them and constantly begs you for the card if it’s one of the few he still needs to complete his collection”.
“Which is barmy,” commented Fred. “They add new ones every time a witch or wizard becomes even remotely famous for something.”
“Well, from a business standpoint it makes sense. Keep expanding the collection, so people keep buying chocolate frogs in bulk in hopes of getting the ones they need," said Carlisle.
“Barmy, just like he said. Fred, was it?” asked Dustin, looking at the boy in question. Fred nodded his head in confirmation, a pleased smirk on his face. After all, who better at telling identical twins apart but other identical twins.
“How is everything tasting, dears?” asked Molly Weasley, a slight look of worry on her face as she took in the Archard children. Her face smoothed out when all the children chorused in agreement that their respective pies were delicious. Molly then blushed when Lady Diaspora sincerely asked if Molly would share her recipes.
The evening was wrapped up not long later as it had grown quite late; many in both families yawning and longing for sleep. The few remaining portions of food were divided up between the families, with the Weasley portion being carefully packed for the drive home and spelled to remain fresh until they could be properly stored. A collective goodbye was shared between the families before Molly and Arthur shuffled their children and houseguest out the door and to the waiting car.
While the evening could be considered a success and everyone departed in a good mood, no immediate plans or promises of another family dinner were made. With only weeks until most of the children were off to Hogwarts, both families desired to spend the last of their time together. Three weeks and counting, before another year at Hogwarts began…another mystery waiting to be awakened.
Madame = Mrs.
Assurez-vous de vérifier s'il y a des poisons et des potions dans les tartes = Be sure to check for poisons and potions in the pies.
Ami intime = bosom buddy
Extra POVs
Molly POV
I truly believed this evening went better than I hoped for. I had been worried the Archard children wouldn’t like my simple tasting pies, not when they were probably used to house-elf-made sweets. But I couldn’t show up to a dinner party without bringing something; I still heard my mother's wailing voice in my head, lamenting about proper manners and behavior. Yet, my worries were for nothing and they all ate the pies with gusto.
Heaven’s Garden had been intimidating. After living at The Burrow for so many years, I sometimes forgot the sheer wealth some of the other wizarding families possessed. I did miss the social events I used to attend as a Prewett. Fabian and Gideon never failed to liven things up when they became boring, and I always drew our mother sparse when I stood up for myself against any misogynist old wizard who dared to talk down to me like I was a simpleton.
Arthur and I lost so many friends in the last war…so many good people were killed. Arthur still had a few friends from the Ministry, but I often felt left out to hover mid-air alone on a broomstick without a single friend solely of my own. I hoped, perhaps, Diaspora could become my friend. She was only five years younger than me and I had some fond memories of when we were younger; not so many from Hogwarts since we were in different Houses, but still some good memories remained. Diaspora proved herself to be a gracious and kind hostess, and I felt we ended the evening in good humours, at least between us that was. Her husband was a different matter.
I couldn’t imagine what it was like for such an expressive and warm witch to be married to such a stern and distant wizard. While the children all seemed to get along with each other, I couldn’t be so sure with Lord Ashton, as he was just so hard to read at times. Yet, I was happy that despite his clear disdain for Arthur’s obsess-, ahem, I mean Arthur’s fascination with Muggles, Lord Ashton and Diaspora remained polite and treated Arthur and I as equals.
Neither of them once called us Blood Traitors like other families in High Society had done in the past. I did think perhaps Lord Ashton was thinking along those sentiments from the way his eyes would turn hard any time Arthur talked about any of the Muggle traditions or holidays he’d been teaching to the children. Still, apart from a few slights that were almost a given when dealing with those of nobility, I thought things went well. Perhaps well enough that while the children are away at Hogwarts, Diaspora and I could at least have tea together.
Ashton POV
Every fact I had heard about Arthur Weasley had proven itself true this evening. He was entirely obsessed and enamoured with the Non-Magic, or how he said Muggles, and their customs. He marveled after anything they made, be it big or small. While I could admit the Non-Magic had created some clever inventions through the centuries, I would never, ever do what Arthur had done. Never would I abandon generations of sacred customs and beliefs, not for interest over something different.
The Non-Magic were truly and entirely different from Magicals. They lacked magic and a connection with the Mother of Magic, she who blessed this world with a gift beyond our imagining. They, who were constantly at war with each other. In all the centuries of Magical-kind, there had only ever been two wizarding wars; all other wars being fought against other creatures, namely the goblin race.
For all Arthur’s obsession with the Non-Magic and their ‘ingenuity’, I knew firsthand that the Non-Magic had the ingrained behavior of destroying things different from them, things they feared. And the Non-Magic would surely try to destroy Mother Magic in their ignorance of what they could never understand.
Still, I held my tongue, even without Diaspora's gentle reminders; none of the bitter and angry vitriol fueled by the memories of my family’s death escaped my lips. Admittedly a few minor slights and remarks slipped past, but the wizard appeared to either ignore them or missed them entirely.
Perhaps Diaspora was correct, that we could bring the Weasley children back onto the proper path - teach Arthur reign in his obsession and recover the culture and customs he had lost. However, it would take time and patience, and I did not always have patience for those who tried it or reminded me of bitter things of the past.
Diaspora POV
I did not need to be a Legilimens to know the thoughts flowing around in my Lord Husband’s mind. A soft nudge on his leg from my foot acted as the only reminder for him to keep his thoughts to himself. He had still been passive-aggressive all evening, divining out subtle slights and implied insults towards Arthur. Arthur never visibly reacted, and remained in good humour as he happily rambled on about the different Muggle traditions he taught to his children.
From the squinting of her eyes and tightening of her mouth, I knew Molly had at least caught some of Ashton’s little comments, yet she continued to keep her silence and remained ever supportive of Arthur and his pursuits. She was different from the Molly I remembered growing up - one who was always outspoken with a burning temper ready to explode on any given or perceived slight. Despite her silence, I did not doubt Molly still had her temper, but perhaps she at last learned the restraint her mother had always been wailing about.
Despite the many tea socials I attended, I really only counted Andromeda as a friend and companion. She was my oldest friend and I had been heartbroken to leave Andy behind when I followed Ashton to France to marry. Perhaps Molly could be another friend; she certainly would not go blabbing to gossip crazed ladies of High Society, and most importantly, I think she was lonely.
Once the children were away at Hogwarts, Molly, for the first time in years, would not have a single child to take care of. If she was not lonely now, she certainly would be then. I would continue to press lightly and feel out the terrain of a possible friendship with Molly Weasley; perhaps even invite Molly for tea either alone or with Andy. Ashton may object, but I did still remain certain we could pull the Weasley family back to their roots.
Regardless, I did know for certain my oldest girl had found her spark with George Weasley. Assigning them to be seated next to each other was a stroke of genius on my part. Hopefully, those two would find the way to each other soon - Ashton would need the time to get used to the idea. However, if they stumbled about it, I could always convince Ashton to bluntly confront them with the proposition of courtship. Oh, decisions, decisions, decisions…
Arthur POV
I was by no means as clueless as I acted.
Despite my decisions to teach the children about Muggle traditions and customs, I still remembered my wizarding ones, and even some of the etiquette lessons my mother’s cousin wailed about when I was courting Molly. She always wailed about something, usually Molly’s temper getting out of hand. But it was Molly’s fierceness which had originally drawn me into her.
Ours was a slow-burning romance. The quiet and awkward boy pining after the fiery and independent lady. I had barely stuttered my way through asking her permission to court her when Molly asked if I’d like to court her. I knew what Molly gave up when she agreed to marry me, but she had never been suited for High Society, despite her mother’s high aspirations.
Now though, the Prewett line had died out; another family of High Society faded because of the actions of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and his fanatic Death Eaters. Blood supremacists, for all their talk of Pureblood supremacy and the sanctity of the blood, killed off hundreds of Purebloods and their lines during Britain's Second Wizarding War. There were all madder than a Black high on Dark magic.
I knew my fascination with Muggles grated on other wizards and witches, but in a way, it let me sort out who was the wrong or good sort - it was all in how they reacted and treated me (I was almost sorted into Ravenclaw, so I was allowed a few good ideas here and there). Wizards like Lucius Malfoy were the most vicious, the worst representation of the British Noble Houses. Yet, there were some wizards like Dumbledore, who encouraged me and my pursuits of knowledge of Muggles and their ways. In between were the wizards who either cautioned me to not lose myself or my roots, or simply disliked my decision but still treated me and my family fairly and with manners. This was where Lord Ashton fell.
Lord Ashton disapproved, that much was obvious from the way he grimaced slightly at the mention of Muggles, yet, he remained polite; never once discouraging me from speaking and never said anything nasty about me, my family, or even Muggles themselves. Even when I knew he had more reason than any wizard I knew to despise Muggles. News of Muggle attacks against the Archard family reached England, news of his relatives’ murders orchestrated by wizards and witches using Muggles. Yet, Lord Ashton did not give in to the Dark, and I knew should He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named ever returned, that Dumbledore would welcome Lord Ashton into the Order.
Lord Ashton was a good representation of a Noble House, and I deeply hoped that as he acclimated himself into the Ministry and its politics, that Lord Ashton wouldn’t be sucked in with those Blood Supremacists. Lucius and his ilk were slimy manipulators, but tonight Lord Ashton’s actions reassured me he would remain firm against their passing waves. Perhaps Lord Ashton and the Archard family were what the British Ministry needed to tip the scales away from the archaic olden ways and turn towards a better tomorrow brought here today.
Chapter 5: A Shopping We Will Go
Chapter Text
Esme POV
It had been a week since the dinner party with the Weasleys and Potter, which had more or less not been as painful as I was expecting. Other than Weasley voicing his bias against Slytherins and reminding me of the bitter end of last term, I enjoyed myself. Fred and George provided decent conversation, and I enjoyed the fact Maman seated George and Blaire right next to each other; she clearly had figured out there was something between them.
Ginny was oddly subdued and shy, whereas before she had been energetically talkative and determined when our families played Quidditch together. From the glances she sent towards Potter, it likely had something to do with him - perhaps the little sister had a crush on her brother’s friend. Percy was an odd one - well, odd for a Gryffindor - he would fit right in amongst certain members of Slytherin. I did wonder what made the sorting hat put him in Gryffindor. From what I’d seen, he would thrive in Slytherin and Ravenclaw, yet he was a Gryffindor. Still, it was just a passing thought lacking any real curiosity. Besides, I had a better thing to focus on - our Hogwarts letters had arrived this morning.
Papa handed them out to us to read once again. It was the same thick and heavy yellow parchment envelope with emerald-green ink elegantly scrawled across it:
Ms. E. Archard
Heaven’s Garden
Ottery St. Catchpole
Devon
Breaking open the purple waxed Hogwarts seal, I found however, that the letter inside was slightly different from what I remembered before. It read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin: First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Ms. Archard,
We are pleased to inform you that you shall proceed to the next year of learning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment.
The Hogwarts Express will depart from King’s Cross Station at 11 o’clock on 1 September. Please arrive before the designated time. Term begins on 1 September.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
I set aside the letter for the other piece of parchment behind it. I was surprised to see that the requirement list only contained new course books.
SECOND YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk
Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart
Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart
I assumed all these Gilderoy Lockhart books were for Defense Against the Dark Arts course, however, I had never heard of this Lockhart, which was strange since he had so many published works. Yet I found it odd that the new professor would require all these books to be purchased, as they were likely not cheap and some Hogwarts students weren’t as well off as others.
“Seriously?” exclaimed Dustin, disgust clear in his voice. “They’re requiring us to buy all of that imbécile prétentieux’s books.”
“Please explain, darling. What is the matter?” asked Maman from her usual place at the table, too far away to read the lists over our shoulders.
“Whoever is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is requiring us to purchase seven of Gilderoy Lockhart’s over-priced and poorly written books.”
I blinked in surprise when Maman’s usually kind face scrunched up in clear disdain before she sighed. “Well, it cannot be helped. Your professor has set them as required books, though I worry for your quality of education if they are using his books as a reference.”
“Actually,” Blaire raised her hand slightly to draw attention to herself. “Alaric and I are also required to get seven of Lockhart’s books.”
I also spoke up, “Same with me, Maman.”
A deep scowl overcame Papa’s face. “They are likely the same books, which is even more concerning. The different years should never have the same course books at the same time. Ma amour , perhaps it would be best for the children to remain here and be privately tutored. It seems there is little possibility of them receiving a quality education from this new professor.”
“ Non !” exclaimed Blaire, who blushed scarlet when all our eyes focused on her in shock. She actually raised her voice at Papa…
Maman quickly stepped in. “I think what ma petite Blaire meant was the children still wish to attend Hogwarts. And I agree. The other courses will still be up to standard and their friends are all there.”
Papa didn’t look convinced.
“How about this; you can test the children when they return for the summer. If you find their Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge lacking, then we can supplement their education next summer. Then you may also express your displeasure for the hiring choice and ensure this professor never returns to Hogwarts to teach the children again.”
A small smirk appeared on Papa’s face and I instantly relaxed, not having noticed how tensed up I was. I’d been scared I wouldn’t be able to spend Second-Year with my friends, but was relieved when Papa agreed to Maman’s proposal.
“In other news,” Blaire began with a proud smile on her face as she held up her hand with a red and silver badge resting on her palm. “I was named as one of the prefects for Gryffindor for this coming year.”
“Oh my, that is wonderful! Congratulations!” exclaimed Maman.
“Well done, Blaire. You are well deserving of such a position,” said Papa in a pleased but serious voice. “I know you will take your new duties seriously and won’t let them interfere with your studies.”
I was happy for Blaire and proud her excellence was being recognized. Percy Weasley would likely be the other prefect since he held the position last year. From what I remembered, Percy took his position as a school prefect seriously, so at least Blaire didn’t have to worry about being stuck with someone incompetent or someone who would dump all the work on her shoulders.
Both of the Slytherin prefects graduated last term, so Slytherin would be receiving two new ones. Hopefully whoever they were, they wouldn’t be like Farley. My opinion of her never rose from our first interaction and I was pleased I would never have to deal with her again; if only I was so lucky where Parkinson was concerned.
I was brought out of my thoughts when I realized they were discussing when we would go to Diagon Alley to get our school things and get our robes adjusted. Carlisle and Dustin may even need all new robes altogether - I swear those two shot up a full foot these last few months.
“I will not be able to take the children shopping until next Friday at the earliest, not when I have already confirmed my attendance to several social invitations I have received,” said Maman. “However, I feel uneasy going shopping less than a week before the children depart.”
There was silence as we waited for whatever decision Papa was about to announce. “I will take the children to Diagon Alley Wednesday then. I need to purchase a few things myself and will not be at the Ministry that day.” he explained in a firm voice, setting the plan in place. “This would mean the younger ones would require supervision,” he added, a sharp gaze landing on Fain and Gérard in particular - those two (and Isabelle when she was in a sour mood) would require a sitter rather than a house-elf.
Maman smiled and clapped her hands together once. “Perfect! I will message Tonks to see if she is available to watch the younger children.”
I smiled down at my hands resting in my lap, happy I would have the chance to spend time with Papa. Honestly, other than Litha, we hadn’t seen much of Papa this summer outside of family dinners. Besides Maman, Alaric was the only one who got to really spend time with Papa because of his heirship lessons. Papa’s job at the Ministry and position in the Wizengamot kept him very busy.
With plans made, we all separated for whatever activities we each had set for the day.
Days passed and it was finally Wednesday, the day of our shopping trip. After breakfast, Papa had those of us of Hogwarts age gather in front of the main fireplace. One by one we each took the Floo Network and arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. As with the other times we had gone shopping, we each arrived with no trouble, and waited quietly and patiently for everyone else to arrive. Papa appeared last, and with a flick of his wand, the fireplace soot and ash on our robes vanished.
Papa led the way to the alley entrance, using his wand to tap the specific bricks which would reveal the archway. Blaire kept close to me as we stepped through, with Carlisle and Dustin behind us and Alaric walking up front with Papa as we hurried through Diagon Alley towards the first destination of any shopping trip - Gringotts Bank.
No matter how many times I was in Gringotts, I still marveled at the sight of the many goblins diligently working, handling precious gems and piles of gold as if they were not anything special or out of the ordinary. As always, my siblings and I went to wait on one of the many benches; however, before we got too far, we were stopped.
“Alaric,” called out Papa. We all turned despite only Alaric being called to. “You shall accompany me, the rest of you may wait for us on the bench.” Alaric quickly hurried to follow Papa and the goblin called to take them to the Archard family vault.
“Why do you think Papa only took Alaric with him?” I asked Blaire.
She made a humming noise before answering. “Perhaps it’s an heir thing they need to sort out.”
“Do you think Father is finally giving Alaric his own Crest item?” asked Carlisle in an excited voice.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Dustin answered me. “All Noble Houses have certain wearable accessories which signify their official standing in the families; namely Head, Consort, and Heir. It can be anything from a pin to a bracelet, however, no matter what form it takes it has the Noble Houses’ family crest engraved clearly on it.”
Blaire continued where Dustin left off. “Father has his ring which signifies his official title as Head of the Family, while Mother has her bracelet which signifies her as the Lady of the House Archard. Alaric could be receiving a piece which would announce for everyone to see that he is Father’s officially named heir.”
I made a sound of understanding, as it made sense that Alaric would finally receive something like that. Before too long Papa and Alaric walked through the same corridor they left through. However, Papa sent Alaric on ahead while he turned and went to another chamber with the goblin they were with.
Alaric joined us on the bench. “So?” asked Carlisle, excitement twinkling in his blue eyes. “Is it official?”
“Yes.” Alaric smiled wide as he lifted his left hand, showing the bulky ring on his index finger. I leaned in close to get a better look. The ring was silver, and the flat surface was our family crest and etched below it was our family words, Debout Fort . “Father has officially declared me as his heir. He said he’s just finishing up the paperwork, and then he’ll take us shopping.”
“Congratulations, Alaric.” I sincerely was happy for him, and knew he both earned this and would do Papa proud.
Finally, Papa returned from his meeting with the goblin. We got to our feet and left Gringotts behind. Papa took us straight to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions for our school robes. Thankfully she was just finishing up the final sale for a mousy looking boy, most likely an incoming First-Year due to his small size, and his mother. As soon as mother and son were out the door, the cheerful magical seamstress got to work on all of us.
After measuring both Carlisle and Dustin, she determined they needed all new robes since they both did indeed have a massive growth over the summer. For Alaric, he only needed small adjustments as he grew only slightly, but did get a little bulkier - he certainly preened being told he gained some muscle. Blaire also only needed small adjustments to her robes. Like my brothers, Madame Malkin decided I needed all new robes. I was very happy to hear I grew, I had hoped so, but confirmation was nice.
With all our robes fitted and neatly packaged up for us, Papa shrunk them down for us to carry. Blaire and I put our packages in our purses attached to our hips while the twins put one of their many robe pockets to use. Alaric had brought a messenger bag for himself to use.
With our packages stored away, we left Madame Malkin’s shop and made our way to Scribbulus Writing Implements to stock up on parchment, quills, and ink. We stopped along the way at a few shops to pick up things Alaric, Blaire, Carlisle, and Dustin needed for their various elective classes.
I did convince Papa to stop at Magical Menagerie so I could buy Flèche the owl treats he prefers. It worked out well, as my siblings also wanted to buy their familiars and pets some things as well. Papa continued to shrink everything he bought for us down for ease of carrying.
Finally we got to Scribbulus, but getting our stationary items took a bit longer than it should’ve because we had to wait for a blonde-haired witch in a bright violet dress to finish kicking up a fuss that they didn’t have any peacock tail writing quills in stock. Papa kept himself between us and this witch; whoever she was, he did not seem to want us interacting with her.
It was only when the witch realized she wasn’t alone with the wizard at the counter did she leave and we could finally purchase our supplies. We were just stepping out of the shop onto the cobblestone street when someone got our attention.
“Blaire!”
Turning towards the shout, I saw Fred and George Weasley walking over with their friend Lee Jordan.
“Hey, Blaire. Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” said one of the twins as they met up with us (most likely George), before he quickly shifted his attention to Papa. “Good afternoon, Lord Archard.”
“Afternoon, boys. Shopping for school supplies?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Jordan.
“We’re also just enjoying the Alley,” added Fred. He then tilted his head towards Blaire, an impish smile on his face. “Wanna come hang out with us, Blaire?”
I smirked to myself when I saw Blaire perk up at the offer, before she shifted to face Papa and unleashed her own version of puppy eyes. “Please Papa, may I go with my friends?”
I resisted the urge to snicker - she hadn’t called Papa that in years. Yet, he remained as still as stone. I watched as his eyes gazed at Blaire for a long second before slowly switching to the Weasley twins and Jordan. Papa’s entire demeanor shifted, a sharp frown and hard eyes replacing his neutral expression.
“You may spend the rest of our time here with you friends,” he finally said. Blaire began to move over to her friends when Papa added, “Alaric will accompany you.”
More like chaperone her, I thought to myself as I saw Dustin snicker into his arm before being elbowed by Carlisle. Both Blaire and George blushed - they definitely knew what Papa was implying. So did Fred by the looks of it, who was poorly hiding a smirk behind his hand as he reached to brush some hair out of his face.
“Sounds good, sir,” nodded Fred, a smile still stretching wide across his face.
Papa gave both Alaric and Blaire a small pouch of galleons for any further purchases they wished to make before the five of them headed off on their own to explore Diagon Alley. At the very least Blaire could enjoy some time with her friends, but I did hope that perhaps Blaire and George inched closer to admitting their shared feelings - even though Alaric would no doubt be hovering protectively over his sister. Carlisle broke the small silence which had descended over us as the four of us returned to our own shopping. I internally hoped to drag out our time in Diagon Alley to give Blaire all the time she needed with George because I was such a good sister that way.
Imbécile prétentieux’s = preening idiot’s
Ma amour = my love (female)
Non = no
Ma petite = my little (female)
Debout Fort = We Stand Strong
Madame = Mrs.
Extra POVs
Ashton POV
I sent Alaric to go wait with his younger siblings while I finished up the rest of the paperwork needed to officially declare my firstborn as my heir. I’d already filed the necessary document with the Ministry, so where they were concerned Alaric was already my officially declared heir. These documents were for the goblins and, despite what the Ministry may think, were the more important papers.
No matter how some Magicals deluded themselves over the goblins being lesser than them, goblins were still beings blessed by Mother Magic with powerful magic of their own. goblin magic was quite different from that which Magicals wielded, but still powerful in its own right. Nothing short of death could break a magically binding contract or deal of goblin make.
Hence why legal documents crafted by goblins remained absolute in the Magical World, and why so many Magicals, despite thinking less of goblins, still sought their expertise when crafting legal documents. It was standard practice for all Noble Houses to use goblin-crafted documents and contracts for matters of inheritance and passage of headship and heirship.
Even when a Head of the Family didn’t have an officially declared heir at the time of their death, the goblins were able to ascertain a worthy heir, using the family’s own standards established through the centuries, this action bequeathed to them through the ancient agreements made between the goblins and the old families.
A part of those agreements included that if no heir could be found and the family line was declared dead, then the goblins received whatever was resting in the family’s vaults. Any other items outside of the vault or vaults were left to be either split amongst distant relations who couldn’t inherit or the local Ministry of Magic. This meant if for some reason the Archard line were to suddenly end, our properties here in England would belong to the British Ministry of Magic, while our properties in France would belong to the French Ministry, and so on for the few other properties scattered across the world.
The documents to declare Alaric my heir were simple enough, though I paused as I felt a wave of nostalgia float through me. I remembered when my mother officially declared me her heir. I was younger than Alaric was, but still, I felt ready for the responsibility. At the time I hadn’t known of the plans Carolynn had for my future marriage, plans she made without my knowledge or consent. I would be forever grateful to my father for ensuring those plans never became official and no marriage contract was legally arranged. Some still had not reacted well, but since they had no legal standing, in the end they were nothing more than aggressors who murdered innocents to soothe their own egos.
I was just finishing up the paperwork when Odbert, the goblin overseeing the process, spoke, “Lord Archard, your account manager has alerted me of another matter in need of your attention today.”
“Very well, I will speak with him,” I replied, knowing I should be able to settle whatever this was quickly to get back to the children. I knew they would be safe inside Gringotts. The goblins, no matter their suspicions and distant hatred for Magicals, would ensure there was no violence in their domain. “I am finished with these.”
Odbert took the documents from me and left without a word, his rudeness not bothering me in the slightest - I was well used to goblins at my age. In a matter of moments, Ragnok shuffled into the small chamber, a stack of parchments clutched in his hands.
Lifting himself onto the nearby stool, Ragnok laid out the documents neatly in front of him before speaking. “As I am sure Lord Archard is aware, recently the Philosopher’s Stone was destroyed and thus Nicholas Flamel has died without the Elixir of Life to sustain him.”
I remained silent and waited for Ragnok to get to the point.
“His wife, Perenelle Flamel née Archard, was among those of the Flamel family to also die from the lack of elixir. In her last will and testament she bequeathed several items to the remaining members of the Ancient and Royal House of Archard.”
I had heard of Perenelle’s passing, but I honestly hadn’t thought she would’ve left anything for her old family. I’d only met her twice in my life: once quite on accident at the French Ministry of Magic, and other at the trial of those who murdered the rest of my family.
“The items are as follows: one cedar chest containing Perenelle’s Archard wedding crown and veil, Perenelle’s empty hope chest, a sapphire and pearl imbued in silver jewelry set, a goblin-made silver dagger imbued with emeralds and moonstones, and a silk and lace shawl embroidered with the Archard family crest.”
The hope chest, jewelry, and dagger had probably all originally belonged to the Archard family - items she took or were gifted to her when she married into the Flamel family. It was generous for Perenelle to return them to the Archard family instead of leaving them for her own descendants; although with the amount of wealth the Flamel’s had amassed, I doubt her descendants didn’t also receive plenty of heirlooms themselves.
“Have all the items stored in the main vault. Keep them together and catalog them among the Archard family heirlooms,” I ordered to Ragnok, trusting him to ensure the vault remained in its meticulously organized state. Too many things were stored in the Archard Vault for things to be left stacked at random amongst the rocks, and I’d rather not spend hours shifting through everything to find something I was looking for. The Summoning Charm was not reliable when you had multiples of the same type of item to shift through, and didn’t always work when it came to the vaults anyways.
“It shall be done, Lord Archard,” acknowledged Ragnok as he shuffled up the papers he had brought with him.
“Anything else?”
“That will be all.” With those final words, Ragnok left without a backwards glance.
I internally sighed before heaving myself off the uncomfortable wooden chair and returned to the main hall to collect my children. I had a long day of shopping ahead of me to mentally prepare myself for.
Harry POV
I slid out of the fireplace on my back, coughing when I realized the sheer amount of soot I felt everywhere. I carefully opened my eyes and blinked through the grime coating my face, only to squint when I realized my left glasses lens was cracked - probably from when I smacked into something while spinning around through the Floo Network.
I gingerly got to my feet and took in my surroundings as best I could through my broken glasses and the dizzy feeling that hadn’t left me. I realized I was quite alone, but I didn’t recognize anything. It was definitely some sort of dimly lit wizard’s shop, but nothing looked like it’d ever be on a Hogwarts school list. Everything in this shop was creepy, evil-looking, or looked like it walked right out of a horror film.
Even worse than the shop was the dark, narrow street I could see through the shop’s dusty windows - it was definitely not Diagon Alley out there. I hesitated, but knew I needed to get out of here (and the sooner the better) so I swiftly made my way towards the door. Before I got halfway there, two people appeared on the other side of the glass - and one of them was the very last person I wanted to see right now: Draco Malfoy.
I quickly looked around and spotted a large black cabinet to my left. I climbed got inside and shut the doors, carefully leaving a small crack I could see through. Seconds later I heard a bell clanged, and Malfoy came into view from the crack. The man who was with him could only be Draco’s father - he had the same blonde hair and grey eyes as his son.
Mr. Malfoy lazily looked at the items on display before he rang a bell on the counter. He glanced down at his son. “Touching nothing, Draco.”
Malfoy stopped reaching for the glass eye he was about to touch. “I thought you were going to buy me a present.”
“I said I would buy you a racing broom,” said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.
“What’s the good of that if I’m not on the House team?” asked Malfoy, looking sulky. “Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. All because he’s famous, famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead…” Malfoy bent down to examine a bottom shelf, his tone turning mocking, “Everyone thinks he’s so smart, wonderful Potter-”
“I’ve heard enough of this already from you, Draco,” chided Mr. Malfoy. “And I would remind you that it is not prudent to appear less than fond of Heir Apparent Potter-”
Heir Apparent, there was that term again. What did it mean?
“-He may be the last Potter, but many regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear,” finished Mr. Malfoy, a sneer spreading across his face. As if a switch was flipped, his face smoothed out into a more polished haughty look that Malfoy always sports about. “Ah, Mr. Borgin.”
I shifted to get a better look and saw a stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face. “Lord Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again. And Heir Malfoy too, charmed,” Mr. Borgin replied in a voice as oily as his hair looked.
Lord? Like Esme’s father? And he called Draco an heir…was that just some Pureblood thing, but he also called me some sort of heir too…
“How may I be of assistance?” Mr. Borgin continued. “I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced-”
“I’m not buying today, Mr. Borgin,” interrupted Lord Malfoy, “but selling.”
“Selling?” asked Mr. Borgin as the smile faded from his face slightly.
“You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids,” said Mr. Malfoy, taking a medium sized box from inside his robe. He handed it to Mr. Borgin. “I have a few…items at home that might embarrass me if the Ministry were to call.”
Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of small glasses before opening the box and looked over the items inside. “The Ministry wouldn’t presume to trouble you, sir, surely not a Lord of an Ancient and Noble House?”
I saw Lord Malfoy’s form tense up. “I have not been visited, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act. No doubt the Progressives being influenced by that flea-bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley.”
I felt a hot surge of anger when he insulted Mr. Weasley.
“I understand, sir,” said Mr. Borgin. “Let me see…I should be able-”
“Can I have that?” interrupted Draco, pointing at something I couldn’t see on a nearby shelf.
“Ah, your son has exquisite taste!” said Mr. Borgin, abandoning Lord Malfoy and scurrying over to Malfoy. “That’s a genuine Green Birdwing butterfly wing under a magnified glass cabochon set in an antique silver setting with opals. The perfect gift for any Noble Lady.”
“Your mother doesn’t need another necklace, Draco,” said Lord Malfoy in a cold voice.
“It’s not for Mother,” retorted Draco, still looking at it. “It’s for Esme, she likes butterflies.”
“Oh?” Mr. Borgin said loudly.
“What?” I gasped at the same time as him. I quickly covered my mouth with my hands, anxiously waiting and hoping they hadn’t heard me.
I sighed under my breath in relief when none of them looked my way. Mr. Borgin continued talking. “Such a lucky witch, from what family does she…”
Lord Malfoy waved off Mr. Borgin as he faced his son. “I supposed with your excellent grades you earned it.” He then turned back to Mr. Borgin. “I will purchase the necklace from the worth of the items I brought to you today. I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today…”
The two adults started to haggle. I didn’t like that Malfoy was having his father buy something for Esme. However, I quickly grew nervous as Malfoy drew nearer and nearer to my hiding place, examining the various objects for sale with a smarmy smirk on his face. I heard my heartbeat in my ears as he walked forward towards the cabinet, his hand stretching out for the handle.
Clang.
I flinched at the same time as Draco when his father slammed his cane against the cabinet. “What did I say?”
“Touch nothing,” replied Draco in a sullen voice. “Sorry, Father.”
If my heart wasn’t currently lodged in my throat, I’d probably be happier at seeing Draco be scolded.
“Come on then, we’re going,” Lord Malfoy said as he finally removed his cane from the cabinet. “Good day to you, Mr. Borgin.”
I wiped my forehead with my sleeve as Malfoy turned away from the cabinet and Lord Malfoy collected the wrapped necklace and a few galleons from the counter. The moment I heard the shop door closing, Mr. Borgin dropped his oily manner. Muttering darkly, he disappeared into a back room.
I waited for a minute in case he came back, then, as quietly as I could, slipped out of the cabinet and hurried out of the shop. One good thing from all that was that the Malfoys gave me hope that Diagon Alley wasn’t far from here - I just had to find it, and find it fast before the Weasleys got too worried over my absence.
Chapter 6: Book Shop Scuffle
Chapter Text
Esme POV
Since it was right next door to Scribbulius, we went to Quality Quidditch Supplies next on Carlisle and Dustin's request, as they needed to broom maintenance supplies for the coming months. To my surprise Papa offered to buy me my own broom if I wished to play Quidditch like my brothers. He quickly amended that I would have to keep up with my studies, but since I did well last year, he trusted I could handle it. I couldn't help but blush at Papa's indirect praise, but still I declined as I had no interest in trying out for Slytherin's Quidditch team.
Instead I asked for the enchantable streamers, as I hoped to charm it to cheer for my brothers when they played, and when they weren't, I could cheer for Slytherin. Papa agreed, and even bought Carlisle and Dustin new leather gloves.
While Papa was purchasing the items, Carlisle and Dustin saw what he was buying for me. "Oh~, are you going to cheer us on as our number one fan this year, petite papillon," asked Carlisle as he looped his arm around my shoulders.
"I will always cheer for you, grands frères," I promised, nudging my head slightly against his arm.
"Especially when we play against Gryffindor?" Dustin added, scooching close to us as well - clearly trying to charm me.
Nice try, but it is I who manipulates you, not the other way around, I thought as I replied, "Non. I will cheer for all of you then because j'aime tous mes grands frères. I just wish for the three of you to have fun and remain uninjured during matches."
They both hugged me, even as they slightly pouted over not weaseling the promise they wanted from me. As they were hugging me, I saw three familiar faces outside the shop's windows. Potter and Weasley were gazing at the Quidditch team robes on display, before they were quickly dragged off by a bored looking Granger.
I should've guessed Potter and Weasley would be wandering around Diagon Alley if Fred and George were. I hoped I didn't run into those three again today; I wanted to enjoy my day of shopping without them mucking things up, Weasley especially with his thoughtless remarks. Still, if I did run into them, I would just continue what I did last week at dinner - completely ignore them, and hopefully this time they'd get the message and leave me alone.
My brothers released me as Papa had concluded his business and the four of us left Quality Quidditch Supplies and returned to the bustling street of Diagon Alley. The only thing left for us to buy on our school lists were our required books, and neither my brothers nor I had any other shopping requests, or at least none we would say out loud. I had thought to get Fain and Gérard something from the joke shop, but with Papa supervising this shopping trip, I wouldn't be able to get away with purchasing anything from there.
As we approached Flourish and Blotts, I was surprised to see a large crowd of witches jostling outside of the shop's doors as they all tried to get inside. Stretched across the upper windows of the bookshop was a large banner which proclaimed:
GILDEROY LOCKHART
will be signing copies of his autobiography
MAGICAL ME
Today 12:30 - 4:30
"Fils de pute!" muttered Papa under his breath, though not quietly enough that the three of us hadn't heard him. Dustin and Carlisle snickered at the unflattering words, while I fought back a smirk - Papa really didn't like Lockhart, and we hadn't even seen him yet.
There was no avoiding the situation, we needed to get our school books and this was our only chance before we had to leave for school. I saw Papa steel himself before he led the way through the crowd of excited witches. We quietly passed a harassed looking wizard trying to control the impatient crowd, saying, "Please, ladies, no pushing. Everyone will have their turn. Please, mind the books."
Squeezing inside the shop, I saw there was at least an organized line instead of the mass of bodies I was expecting. The line, while curving throughout the shop, led all the way to the back of the shop where I saw a table had been set up. I couldn't see through the crowd, but I honestly had little interest in really trying.
Papa directed us off to the side of the shop towards a nearby shelf of overflowing books before addressing us, "You three go browse out of the way of the commotion while I collect and purchase yours and Alaric and Blaire's school books. Stay away from the back of the shop. I do not want you three anywhere near Lockhart, vous pourriez attraper son idiotie."
Dustin snorted, but was silenced by Carlisle elbowing him. Under Papa's stern look, we all quickly nodded our agreement. He then moved away further into the shop to look for our books.
With Papa gone, Dustin finally unleashed his laughter. "Catch his idiocy…" Dustin said between snickers. "That was a good one." His laughter proved to be infectious as soon Carlisle and I were also laughing - it was funny and surprising to see Papa so ruffled that he actually expressed his displeasure, and in such a colorful way for a man beholden to the rigid behavior of a polite gentleman.
"Grands frères, why does Papa have such a low opinion of this wizard?" I asked. "He never said why, just that he doubted the quality of our education and such before."
"Well…" Carlisle started, his nose scrunching up as he clearly searched for the right words.
Before he could he was interrupted by Dustin. "Father read Lockhart's second published book, Gadding with Ghouls, and was barely done with it before he had Paddy dispose of it quickly. As I recall, he said most of the book was egotistical trash written by a vainglorious wizard seeking attention of fools easily distracted by beauticious coverings."
"Sweet Circe…" I mumbled, shocked at the sheer venom of words Papa once said. His words so far today seemed mild when compared to that.
Carlisle cleared his throat. "Oui, well, anyways, you should go browse, petite papillon." Carlisle gently pushed me towards the far side of the shop. "We'll be nearby if you need us."
I moved forward on my own as I accepted my brother's words. I might as well look to see if any books sounded interesting. Perhaps I would even find a new book to give Blaire for Yule. I made my way up the stairs towards the second floor, reading over the various book titles on the shelves as I went.
"Esme?"
I glanced up and saw Draco sitting on an armchair by the second story balcony, a book opened in front of him. "Hello, Draco. Pleasure seeing you this afternoon," I greeted as I made my way up the rest of the stairs. "Are you shopping for your school supplies too?"
"Yes, I am, though Father left me here while he went to take care of some business in Gringotts. Would you like to sit?" he asked as he gestured to an empty armchair nearby.
"Yes, thank you," I accepted as I sat down, carefully tucking my robes to rest neatly around my legs. "I have some time while my father purchases our school books."
Draco snorted. "That will take a while with those batty witches hovering about trying to get their five minutes with Lockhart."
"Indeed," I agreed with a giggle. "Honestly, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is likely a fan just like them with seven of Lockhart's books being required for all students in each Year."
"It's actually the wizard himself who is to be our professor."
"Pardon? How do you know that?" I asked while tilting my head in curiosity. Papa would definitely not be pleased if this is really the case.
"My father is on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts," explained Draco, a proud smirk spreading across his face. "Dumbledore has to inform them of all the latest hires, usually so the Board can vote against it, but since the Defense Against the Dark Arts always needs filling, they hardly seem to care at this point."
"Oh of course, that makes sense," I replied, remembering the position is supposedly jinxed. I twirled my hair with my finger as I thought aloud, "I wonder if Lockhart was a Slytherin? Making all the students buy so many of his books is a little bit of a cunning way to make a profit."
"As if," Draco scoffed. "Lockhart isn't worthy of Slytherin House. My mother actually attended Hogwarts with him and recalled him being in Ravenclaw." Draco leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "She told me that Lockhart may be a skilled wizard but his vanity and ego has always led him to highly embellish himself, so he's always less impressive face to face."
I smirked a little. "Did you find out for yourself trying to get one of your books signed?" I asked as I gestured to a stack of books at Draco's feet.
"No, of course not!" Draco blushed and avoided eye contact. "I didn't even think about it!"
I giggled a little. While I accepted his words, inwardly I had the feeling Draco got one of his books signed despite his words.
Our conversation was interrupted by a commotion happening downstairs, louder than the one the witches were making before. Excited whispers of "Harry Potter?" floated up to our ears. A large sneer broke out over Draco's face as he stood up against the balcony banister to look down to the first floor. My own good humor had fled as well - so much for avoiding Potter and the others.
I joined Draco at the railing and gazed down below. We had an excellent view over everything, so we easily saw Lockhart and Potter standing in front of the clapping crowd. A photographer, no doubt working for the Daily Prophet, madly clicked away on his camera, causing smoke to billow around before escaping out the opened shop door.
Lockhart and Potter made an odd pair: one dressed in light blue robes, all shiny and clean, with his wavy hair neatly styled - and the other dressed in his Hogwarts robe, dirty and ruffled, with his hair as messy as always. Potter looked distinctly uncomfortable as Lockhart clutched him close with a wide smile.
Lockhart finally let go of Potter and waved about for the crowd to quiet. "Witches and wizards," he said loudly. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!"
My brothers and Draco weren't exaggerating before; Lockhart indeed thought highly of himself. His voice may have been smooth and charming, but his pompous tone of voice was off-putting - worse than some I heard from members of High Society even!
"When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography, Magical Me, which I shall be happy to present to him now along with my entire collected works, free of charge-" The crowd broke into applause.
I, however, frowned in distaste as I watched Lockhart drop a large stack of books into Potter's arm. Potter, an heir apparent who could easily afford all of Lockhart's books, was getting them for free when there were families who had to pay full price for multiple sets of books - families that may not necessarily be able to afford those books. At least Potter seemed to still be quite uncomfortable. Being friends with Weasley, he might be thinking similar thoughts himself about the expense of the books.
"Potter, always getting special treatment," Draco muttered angrily beside me, rolling his eyes.
"Favoritism is always handed to him it seems," I agreed just as quietly to him. My mind instantly went back to how Dumbledore ensured Gryffindor won the House Cup - all for Potter. My thoughts were interrupted as Lockhart continued with his performance now that the crowd finished clapping.
"He had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my books. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
The crowd cheered and clapped, which acted as the boiling point for Draco as he quickly pushed off the banister and stalked down the stairs. I hesitated for a moment before grabbing Draco's forgotten books. I slowly followed after him as he approached Potter and his friends, who appeared from the back of Flourish and Blotts.
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" accused Draco as he reached them. "Famous Harry Potter, can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."
I stopped halfway down the stairs when I saw Dustin and Carlisle up ahead, shaking their heads at me. Both glanced uneasily at the brewing confrontation, and clearly didn't want me in the middle of it.
"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" snapped Ginny. Though her face was red, even from where I stood I could see the fire burning in her eyes as she glared at Draco.
Draco didn't even flinch as he chuckled. "Oh~ Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!"
Ginny's face flushed scarlet, but she was soon shuffled back as Granger and Weasley moved forward. Weasley glared at Draco as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"
"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Draco. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."
Weasley went as red as his sister, before he dropped the books in his arms and lunged for Draco. I gasped - while Weasley reacting so to taunts was normal, I hadn't thought he'd be foolish enough to do so in such a public place. Thankfully, Granger and Potter quickly grabbed the back of his jacket and held him back, all while Draco stood his ground.
"Violence is not the answer," I said to Weasley as I hurried down the rest of the steps, coming to a stop a step above my Housemate. I looked around for adults to hopefully arrive before Weasley attacked like a Muggle again.
"I would stay back, Esme," advised Draco, not looking back at me as his eyes remained fixed on Weasley and the others at the bottom of the steps. "Weasley is so low in magical skill that he's reduced to Muggle ways."
"You shut your bloody mouth," Weasley yelled at Draco. I tried to step forward, unwilling to leave Draco to continue to goad Weasley into a fight, but Carlisle and Dustin moved in front of me, placing themselves between me and the others.
"Ron!" Monsieur Weasley then hurried over, and I sighed in relief that an adult finally arrived. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside-"
"Well, well, well," interrupted Lord Malfoy, a sneer like his son's on his face as he walked over. "Arthur Weasley."
"Lucius," Monsieur Weasley greeted in a cold tone of voice that sounded odd coming from him.
Lord Malfoy's face twitched - no doubt at the lack of use of his proper title - but it soon smoothed out to a haughty look. "Busy time at the Ministry I hear. All those raids…I hope they are paying you overtime?" He reached into Ginny's cauldron and took out a very old and battered book. "Obviously not," Lord Malfoy drawled. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"
Carlisle and Dustin stiffened as Monsieur Weasley flushed darker than either of his children. Those were harsh words even between adults, much less in front of their children and anyone else that may overhear. The tense atmosphere worried me - things were becoming worse than they were before!
"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," replied Monsieur Weasley with a bite in his voice, looking Draco's father steadily in the eye.
"Clearly," said Lord Malfoy, appearing unfazed. "What you taught your children is one thing, but the company you keep, Arthur…and I thought your family could sink no lower-"
Thump.
I yelped as Carlisle and Dustin suddenly pressed me back against a nearby shelf, the books in my hands pressed into my arms. I then saw between them the reason why - Monsieur Weasley had thrown himself at Lord Malfoy, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of large books came thundering down as two wizards struggled against each other on the floor. I stared wide-eyed in shock. Well…Weasley certainly had to get his rash behavior from somewhere.
Various yells soon filled the shop: "Get him, Dad!" - "Father!" - "No, Arthur, no!" - "Gentlemen, please, please!".
"Immobulus!" was shouted louder over all the other voices. After a quick flash of light, Monsieur Weasley and Lord Malfoy were frozen in place, while falling books floated in the air.
Shop workers quickly got to work and spelled the books and shelves back into their proper place. Papa appeared from the crowd, wand in hand. "That will be quite enough of such undignified behavior," commanded Papa, cold anger radiating from his face and tone. Papa then flicked his wand at the two frozen wizards. "Finite Incantatem."
His previous spell broke under the General Counter-Spell, leaving both Monsieur Weasley and Lord Malfoy to stagger to their feet, each brushing themselves off and righting their robes. Carlisle and Dustin finally moved forward and I squeezed by them as I hurried over to Draco, quietly handing him his books.
"Now, gentlemen. I shall remind you of the simple idea of decorum, especially when in front of the children." Papa practically hissed at both wizards, each appearing embarrassed and angrily to be scolded like children themselves - yet neither argued against Papa and accepted his words with as much dignity as they could muster.
"Come, Draco," Lord Malfoy called, while shoving Ginny's book back into her cauldron. Draco hurried after his father without a word, clutching his books close. The two then swept out of the shop and disappeared into the crowd still milling about Diagon Alley.
"Father?" called out a familiar voice.
I looked over to the shop's entrance to see Alaric and Blaire hesitantly stepping into Flourish and Blotts. The unsure looks on their faces revealed they likely saw the whole scuffle. Fred and George hurried past them and over to their family, through the crowd of witches going back to whatever they were doing before and once again ignoring the rest of us.
Papa sighed, but gestured to Alaric and Blaire to approach. They hurried over to me, Carlisle and Dustin, who had moved behind me after Draco and Lord Malfoy left. Papa faced Monsieur Weasley, who had Madame Weasley fretting over him as she straightened out his robes. "You should have just ignored him, Arthur. Lucius and his allies can make life difficult for you if they set out to do so."
"I know, I wasn't thinking," admitted Monsieur Weasley, taking a deep breath. "I apologize, Lord Ashton, for the trouble and mess I caused. I just couldn't let Malfoy say such things, especially not to the Grangers' faces."
"No matter how noble your intentions were, your actions were brash and unbecoming of a wizard your age. Such a scene won't fix the conflict at hand." Papa then glanced around at his surroundings. "Come along children, it is past time we return home."
I followed my siblings out of the shop, seeing both Blaire send an apologetic look towards Fred and George and Weasley glaring at the back of Papa's head. I glared at him in return with narrowed eyes, his eyes shifting to me finally. I made a huffing noise, ignoring an uncomfortable looking Granger and Potter, and hurried passed. Honestly, what did he have to scowl at Papa about. Papa was right, such actions could and would only cause problems. Potter and Weasley just loved being in the center of trouble.
Papa led us straight through the archway and into the Leaky Cauldron, his eyes shifting around quickly as if he was expecting something else to suddenly happen. I hadn't seen Papa this anxious since…since we lived in France.
All five of us wisely kept quiet and stayed close as we waited for our turn to use the floo - when Papa was agitated like this, we all knew better than to argue or even speak. The tenseness only left Papa's shoulders once we were back in the safety of Heaven's Garden.
I was grateful that the first term of school would be starting soon, as I had the feeling Papa's summer restrictions would only tighten after what happened today in Diagon Alley. I wouldn't have to endure lockdown for long before I would be free, or at least as free as I was when a Slytherin in Hogwarts.
Petite papillon = little butterfly
Grands frères = big brothers
J'aime tous mes grands frères = I love all my big brothers
Fils de pute = son of a bitch
Vous pourriez attraper son idiotie = you might catch his idiocy
Oui = yes
Pardon? = sorry?
Monsieur = Mister
Madame = Mrs.
Chapter 7: The Hogwarts Express
Chapter Text
Esme POV
These last few weeks passed painfully slow. As I had feared, Papa had tightened the summer restrictions; no one besides him and Maman were allowed to leave the manor's grounds, not even Alaric or Blaire. Ever since our shopping trip to Diagon Alley, Papa had been tense and practically paranoid that something would happen, but nothing ever did. He had always been protective, almost overly so, but it wasn't until now that I realized how much of it was due to what happened to the rest of our family in France. And I doubted I was the only one to realize this.
It became an unspoken promise amongst my siblings to not complain about Papa's change in demeanor and rules. We all accepted it in strained silence - Fain and Gérard even refrained from attempting any pranks. While these last few weeks were tense, they also were extraordinarily quiet, and I was relieved when the day arrived for us to leave for Hogwarts.
With practiced ease, my siblings and I had our trunks packed and animals prepared for the journey. Likely due to his overprotectiveness, Papa had set aside work for a change and arranged to escort the five of us to King's Cross Station himself - leaving us to say goodbye to our younger siblings and Maman on the steps of Heaven's Garden.
I clutched Janette close before I was pressed between the bodies of the twins. Without any coaxing on my part, the twins promised to once again write to me. I promised to do so in return, with an additional promise to send Janette her own special letters even if she wouldn't be able to legibly write her own back just yet.
With our goodbyes said, we piled in the usual car which took us directly to the station. While the other animals were all perfectly content to sleep or doze in their carriers, Flèche remained agitated for most of the drive, biting at the latch to his cage and fluffing up his feathers in refusal whenever I tried to offer him a treat in an attempt to settle him.
Thankfully we arrived before too long, just before half-past ten, and had plenty of time to make it to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The station was crowded with Muggles, but as always, we were ignored as we carefully nudged our way through. We made it through the barrier with no trouble at all.
It felt surreal in a way to walk down the platform alongside the scarlet train. I wasn't a First-Year anymore, but a Second-Year! Yes it was only one year of difference, but it was obvious to me who were the new First-Years as we ambled past groups of parents tearfully saying long goodbyes to their children who either looked apprehensive, embarrassed, or just as reluctant to leave as the parents were to let them go.
Once we found an open space on the platform, we all huddled around Papa. While his main focus was on us, I saw his eyes occasionally shift around to the crowd (the scuffle between Monsieur Weasley and Lord Malfoy really affected him). "Study hard and keep up with your studies. Now, it is best to go get settled."
We all gave our acknowledgments to Papa before Alaric took charge and led the way to where we dropped off our trolleys. Carlisle kindly moved Flèche's cage for me off the trolley and carefully passed the handle to me. I waited off to the side for my siblings to grab their own pets' and familiars' cages.
"Esme!"
Turning to whoever called my name, I saw Daphne walking towards me, hand-in-hand with her sister and their parents following behind them. "Daphne! And Astoria, hello." I greeted before Daphne enveloped me in a hug. I pulled back when her parents reached us and stood up straight as I politely nodded my head. "It's very nice to see you again, Lord and Lady Greengrass."
"You as well, Esme," returned Lady Greengrass. "And these must be your older siblings."
"Oui. This is Alaric, Blaire, Carlisle, and Dustin," I said as I gestured to each of my siblings.
"Lovely to meet you," greeted Lord Greengrass.
"You as well," responded Alaric. "If you excuse us, it is about time we board the train."
"Yes of course," excused Lady Greengrass. "Enjoy the coming school year."
My siblings politely nodded before leaving for the train while I waited for Daphne to say her final goodbyes to her sister and parents. Once she disentangled herself from her sister, we made our way onto the nearest carriage and began searching for an available compartment.
"Astoria seemed a little upset, is everything okay?" I asked in concern as I carefully made my way down the train aisle with Flèche's cage.
"Mostly. Tori has been sulking this last week or so about me leaving for Hogwarts again; she doesn't like being left behind at the estate alone," Daphne explained as we finally found an empty compartment. "Thankfully this is the last year that will happen, she'll be attending Hogwarts with us next year."
I set up Flèche's cage on the stand against the window (he hooted and flapped his wings before settling down and tucking his head under his wing to nap), while Daphne threw our small bags up onto the racks above our heads. We each settled into the window seats facing each other.
"Your younger brothers will be attending next year as well won't they?" asked Daphne.
I nodded while smirking. "They're anxiously waiting for this year to go by quickly because they're so excited. Honestly, I fear the trouble those two will bring to whatever House they get sorted into without our parents there to temper them."
"It'll probably be like having a smaller version of the Weasley twins," giggled Daphne, causing me to groan in horror.
"Imagine if those four joined forces?"
"Ha! Hogwarts would fall," joked Daphne.
We both laughed. Calming down some I added, "Though in all seriousness, Fain and Gérard, are more excited about finally attending lessons to learn magic instead of the 'boring ones they're forced to endure'."
"So I'm guessing those two aren't future Ravenclaws?" Daphne asked with a teasing smirk.
"Non, not really in my opinion. Still, the hat will decide in the end."
Suddenly, the door to our compartment rattled. We both looked over quickly. I saw Neville pressed up against the glass as a group of Upper-Years rushed past him. When our eyes met, I smiled and gave a wave. Neville's already pink face turned red. He managed to wave back before he was swept away as more students made their way down the train aisle.
"I see distance made the heart grow fonder."
I snorted. "What in Mother Magic's name are you talking about?"
"Longbottom blushed the second your eyes met, and you brightened up as well. Is there, as you say, a spark between you two?"
I waved my hand in front of my face. "Nothing like that, Daphne. Longbottom and I are friends, nothing more or less. Honestly, you're starting to sound like Parkinson."
"Oh, how dare you!" Daphne said in mock offense, the impish smile never leaving her face.
"Well you are." I replied, still not taking her seriously. "One can be nice to another without crushes being involved. Neville especially deserves some kindness when he doesn't receive much from certain others in Hogwarts."
"Alright, alright, you're not wrong about that. Poor boy is targeted a lot by bullies, Draco especially."
Just as Daphne finished speaking the train whistle blew, signaling it was time for the Hogwarts Express to leave. As the train lurched and began to inch forward, Daphne and I quickly stuck our heads out the windows and searched for our families to wave goodbye. I spotted Papa up ahead on the platform and was pleased to see he waited to see the train off. When I caught his eye I waved, happiness blooming in my chest when my stoic father gave me a nod and even waved goodbye back.
Once the Hogwarts Express completely left King's Cross Station behind, Daphne and I closed the windows and resettled back into our seats.
"I did want to tell you about something that happened not long ago while my family and I were doing our school shopping in Diagon Alley."
"What happened?"
"I ran into Draco in Flourish and Blotts. The bad thing was, Potter, Granger, and Weasley were also there."
"The same day when that photo of Gilderoy Lockhart and Potter was taken by the Prophet?"
"Yes, actually that played a part in what followed. Potter got his school books for free-"
"He's the sole member of the Noble House of Potter; that hardly seems fair he got his books for free."
"Exactly, so Draco also didn't like watching Potter receive more special treatment and confronted them. It was nothing we hadn't seen before at Hogwarts, except this time Lord Malfoy and Monsieur Weasley got involved. They went back and forth until Monsieur Weasley lost control of his temper and attacked Lord Malfoy. They made quite the mess in the shop and kept at it until my father got involved and magically separated them."
"Holy Hecate…are you serious?"
"Quite serious. There were lots of other witnesses as well - this didn't happen in a private room, but in plain view everyone in the shop and even some milling about outside."
"Well I can see where Weasley got his temper from…but still…to attack a lord, the Head of an Ancient and Noble House…that goes beyond brash foolishness - it's completely mental."
"My father has been tense since the incident, worried over how Lord Malfoy would enact his retribution as his pride would demand. But to my knowledge, Lord Malfoy let the incident go, or at least didn't do anything blatant against Monsieur Weasley so far."
"I hadn't even heard of it before you told me, so I think everyone is keeping it hushed up in respect for Lord Malfoy." Daphne shook her head in disbelief. "I still can't believe Mr. Weasley would do that…I've always heard he was eccentric and such, but this goes beyond that. What is it with Gryffindors making everything more difficult?"
"It's not like the rest of us are completely straightforward. You've got to admit that many of us like making things more complicated for our own enjoyment. Slytherins are just as complex as Gryffindors, we're just not as…direct and blunt about it like they tend to be."
Daphne giggled. "You may have a point about that. Remember how Venna Moon created all those complicated riddles for Anthony Goldstein in an attempt to get the Ravenclaw to ask to escort her to Hogsmeade?"
"She spent hours agonizing over those, and in the end he was more interested in the riddles than he was her," I giggled out. "It goes to show all the Slytherin cunning and determination in the world cannot account for the thought process of a teenage wizard."
We giggled and recounted a few other gossip stories about Upper-Years from the other Hogwarts Houses. We were forced to calm down when our compartment door was slid open by the sweets cart witch. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"
Daphne and I both got up to look over the various treats on her cart. Daphne got a Pumpkin Pastie and Bubble Juice, while I got a few Sugar Quills and Gillywater. After paying the witch for our treats, we closed our compartment door and went back to our seats.
"Oh!" Daphne suddenly exclaimed. "I almost forgot to tell you; you will not believe what happened a few weeks ago!"
"I'm on the edge of my seat," I drawled dramatically.
"Oh hush. As I was saying, so Anderson Bagnold, who is the only child of the previous British Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold, is now engaged to Euphemia Rowle!"
"The daughter of a Noble House being arranged to marry the son of an influential family sounds like a good match."
"But that's the thing, their engagement wasn't arranged! Anderson proposed to Euphemia on his own because they love each other! He only waited as long as he did because Euphemia's family refused to give their blessing until Thorfinn was securely married to Sora, since as the heir of the Rowle family, his marriage was considered more important."
"The order of who gets married hardly matters in my opinion."
"Oh I completely agree, it's just another silly thing the older witches and wizards expect. Still, it's all so~ romantic!"
"Oui, it's nice to hear of a happy love match between members of High Society," I said while thinking of my own parents - how their love and marriage were once not accepted in France.
"It may not happen a lot, but it does still happen," explained Daphne. "I just hate that because they only just announced their engagement, the ceremony won't be for at least a year. That's such a long wait to see such a wonderful thing."
"Think of it this way, Daphne. With so long to plan the wedding, it is sure to be a spectacular event."
"You're probably right about that, I'm just impatient about waiting that long to see Euphemia's dress."
"Do you already have your own wedding dress planned?" I teased lightly.
Daphne flipped her blonde ponytail to her other shoulder. "Of course I do, this is me we're talking about." She set aside her drink in order to have full use of her hands as she gestured about and described her dream dress. "It will be an A-line dress with a straight neckline in plain blush pink with embroidery along the bottom of the skirt and long lace sleeves which billow out from the elbows."
"Sounds like you'll be a beautiful bride." I smiled fondly at my friend, before hesitating to ask the question that came to mind. "If you don't mind me asking…how does your family handle succession?"
"I don't mind at all. The Greengrass family is traditionally a Patriarchal Magical-line, but since there's just my sister and I, Father has as officially as he can named me his heir. I don't technically hold the title because I'm a girl, but everything will transfer to me once my father steps down."
"Then, what about when you get married?"
"Whatever wizard I marry will have to give up his own family name and take the Greengrass name so we can continue the family line. And it truly is whatever wizard. Father has promised to allow me to choose my own husband when the time comes; he can be of any social standing, but has to be a competent wizard."
"I'm glad I don't have to worry about you being stuck in a loveless arranged marriage, far, far into the future."
Daphne burst out laughing. "Yes, it won't be for a while yet, but Esme, you shouldn't be so grossed out about the idea of boys or marrying. It's actually kinda funny how unladylike it is of you to not be dreaming of the Magical you will one day marry."
"It's not that exactly - I do sometimes dream of one day marrying and having the same bond of love I see between my own parents. I just don't really want that day to be anytime soon. We're only twelve years into our expected one hundred twenty years or so, we have plenty of time and I don't want to be Parkinson and rush blindly forward towards it with the first boy I lay my eyes on."
"Wow…that's so wise of you to say…are you sure you're not secretly a Ravenclaw?"
I giggled my response, "No, I'm still a Slytherin and it's just my ambition to forge my own path first before anything else."
"I can understand that, and it makes you, you, Esme."
Whoosh.
Daphne and I startled at the sudden noise of our compartment door sliding open. "What makes her Esme?" asked Blaise as he made himself comfortable next to me on the cushioned seat."
"Merlin's beard Blaise, ever heard of knocking," Daphne complained, her hand still clutching at her no doubt fast-paced heart.
"Didn't mean to scare you there, bambina," said Blaise with a smirk which showed he was not at all sorry for what he did.
"Sorry you two," apologized Theo as he sat next to Daphne. "We were just in a hurry to escape Parkinson carrying on when she finally found Draco with us."
"I'm glad we left when we did. I heard something interesting floating around the whole train," Blaise intoned while leaning back against the seat. "No one has seen either Potter or Ronald Weasley on the train, yet the other four Weasleys are here."
"What? That can't be right," I denied.
"Prefect Weasley and Granger have been near frantic searching for them. So unless those two have been in the bathroom this entire time, they've missed the train."
"I don't think that's ever happened before for a returning student," commented Daphne.
"Is there some sort of penalty for missing the train? Surely they wouldn't forbid a student from attending Hogwarts for something like that?" I asked, slightly concerned.
"My father is on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts," said Daphne. "So I know for a fact there's no official rule about it. It's just an accepted custom, though it's waved for extenuating circumstances."
Theo scoffed. "It doesn't really matter. This is Potter we're talking about; they'll either portkey or floo to Hogsmeade, and then Dumbledore will probably fetch Potter and his sidekick himself."
"Perhaps," agreed Blaise before chuckling. "But just imagine if it was Professor Snape to pick them up? Oh~ I'd pay five galleons to be there to witness the dressing-down he'd give those two Gryffindors."
We all laughed at the idea of that. All Slytherins feared Professor Snape's temper, but admittedly it was entertaining when you were not the focus of his ire. The conversation then moved on from Potter and Weasley, and even my thoughts moved away from them as I enjoyed being with my friends once again.
"My father finally did it," Theo announced suddenly, his face looking entirely unenthused. "All his complaining about my sister becoming a spinster has finally been silenced, he signed a marriage contract for Tabatha to marry Lysander Yaxley. There's been no official announcement about it yet, but it should be coming out any day now."
"You don't seem particularly thrilled about it," I pointed out.
"Because I'm not," sneered Theo. "Father is forcing Tab to marry this boy all because he's an heir to a noble family, and she's completely going along with it! Who knows how this wizard will treat her, he could be a complete tosser and Tab doesn't even care and almost seems happy that she's making our father pleased with himself!"
"I'm sorry, Theo," Daphne said gently as she placed her hand on his in comfort. "But there's also the chance that Lysander could treat Tabatha kindly."
"No offense Daphne," interjected Blaise, "but if Theo's father approves of this wizard, then he's likely just as much a Supremacist as Lord Nott is."
"If he does mistreat Theo's sister, is there anything that can be done?" I asked, both curious and worried for Theo about the dark cloud that has hovered over him since he brought up the announcement.
"Not really," admitted Daphne. "Lord Nott could absolve the marriage, but…"
"But he won't do that," continued Theo, a deep scowl on his face. "Because he doesn't and won't care. Tab could only say something, but I can't do anything until our father hands over control to me, either willingly or when he dies."
"What if you made it clear to Lysander that if any harm or mistreatment should befall Tabatha, then when you become Head of the Family, you will ensure that the Yaxley family will fall into political ruin?"
"That could work, mate," Blaise agreed, with a thoughtful look on his face. "The Yaxleys are only a Noble House, but the Notts are an Ancient and Noble House. Lysander would have to be completely brainless to risk the alliance between your two houses falling once the current Lord Nott passes on."
"But how could I get him to take me seriously?" asked Theo. "Lysander is at least twenty years old - I'm still a child, especially in his eyes."
"You dig down deep, and unleash your inner Slytherin fury," said Daphne while gripping onto Theo's hand with both of hers. "Be the haughtiest, but dignified little lord you can and lay it out flat with no argument that you will ruin his family if he mistreats your sister in any way. You may not like to hear it, but you are your father's son - you could emulate him the best out of anyone if you'd tried."
"Perhaps…" Theo said, a deep look overcoming his face.
"And you have time, right? Before the marriage?" I asked, feeling a spark of hope for my friend.
Without looking my way, Theo replied, "It could happen as early as next summer."
"Then you have a year to practice and pick the right words before you confront him," said Blaise.
"And we'll help you," I promised, with Daphne and Blaise both agreeing with me. It was no Wizard's Oath or Unbreakable Vow, but I would still treat it as if it was, and I knew from the fire in their eyes that Daphne and Blaise felt the same way.
The three of us would help him, not only for his sister's sake, but for Theo's sake because he was our friend. Nifflers may hoard their gold, but Slytherins hoarded their loved ones. Theo had little love for his father; but he loved his sister dearly, just as I loved my siblings and Daphne loved her sister. And from that fact alone, I knew we'd succeed in putting the fear of Morgana in Lysander Yaxley.
Monsieur = Mister
Oui = yes
Non = no
Bambina = girl (italian endearment)
Extra POV
Blaire POV
I'd barely been settled into a compartment with Julie and some other Gryffindor girls after leaving King's Cross Station when Percy appeared in the doorway, announcing there was a prefects' meeting we needed to attend and we would be late if we didn't head to the front of the train right at that second. After counting to five in my head, I agreed calmly and followed him up the carriage aisles.
Now I didn't really mind Percy all that much, though I had to agree with some of the things George and Fred said about him right now. Percy did have an overinflated sense of authority when it came to his prefect position. He rudely forced aside a couple of Lower-Years when they stood in his way, all because he had 'important business as a school prefect' to attend to. I was only able to apologize to the students as I gently squeezed by as I had to hurry to keep up with Percy, lest I make him more annoyed because he thought I was slow.
The meeting itself was tedious and pointless in my opinion - it wasn't even an official meeting. The entire thing was the 'old' prefects meeting us 'new' prefects and then bestowing upon us their 'words of wisdom' and then bragging about all the perks that came with being prefects. I learned no useful information or details about our duties and anytime I asked, questions were waved off to be answered by my Head of House once we were at Hogwarts - when the actual official prefect meeting would occur.
I was very happy when I could finally politely break away - not caring a single inch I was the first one to leave the so-called meeting (though the two new Slytherin Prefects, Garrett Carmichael and Cara Buttermere, weren't far behind me). While I hated the meeting, at least I didn't have to be on the receiving end of the others' condescension like those two were. I couldn't guess if that treatment was due to them being Slytherins or because they both 'new' because they were the only House with two 'new' prefects.
Besides Kevin Bones, I don't think the other 'old' prefects were even aware of how rude some of the things they said were. Kevin tried his best to move things along, but the poor Ravenclaw could only do so much against the others, especially since Basil Eddings, as the new Head Boy, acted as ringleader of the pompous. Penny Haywood was apparently the new Head Girl, but she wasn't even there.
I was broken out of my thoughts when arms suddenly grabbed me and pulled me into a nearby washroom. I wiped my wand out, ready to hex whoever it was stupid for daring to attack me, when I heard a familiar voice.
"Merlin's saggy balls! Blaire, it's me! Sorry, it's me!" exclaimed George Weasley, his hands now up between us.
I slid my wand back into my pocket. "George," I greeted with a smile. He smiled in return and opened his mouth, but then I slapped the back of his head as hard as I could. "You, you, imbécile! You nearly scared me half to death!"
George groaned as he rubbed the back of his head. "Merlin, witch, that hurt."
"It was supposed to!"
"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to talk to you."
I sighed and released my anger with it. "About what?" I asked in a genuinely calm voice this time.
George's usual confidence was nowhere to be found as he seemed to curl into himself, nervousness radiating from his entire being as he flushed as red as his hair all the way to his ears. I raised my eyebrow in confusion, but waited in patient silence for him to find the words he wanted to say.
He took a deep breath, as if to steady himself, before beginning. "Look, I know you're gonna be really busy with your studies, cause you like to be challenged, cause you're so smart, and plus you're a prefect now, which seems like a lot of work."
George was rambling. Why was he rambling? This wasn't like him at all.
He cleared his throat. "Anyways. You're amazing, and I just wanted to tell you, to say, I mean, for you to know that I…sweet Merlin…" He took a deep breath. "I like you, like more than a friend like you. But I'm fine staying as friends with you because like I said, you're great, and I like spending time with you. So um, yeah…"
I blinked as I slowly processed what he just said. Sweet Circe, this boy…Words seemed to have fled my mind so I did the next best thing - I kissed him.
I smiled into the kiss as George made the most adorable squeaking noise. Pulling back, my smile brightened at his cute embarrassed face. I thought he was red before, but I swear his entire face was redder than a blood ruby; though I bet my own cheeks had to be flaming red from the heat I felt rushing there.
"I like you too, George. And I hope this means that perhaps you are willing to give a relationship between us a try."
"Yes!" shouted George. He cleared his throat and said in a much softer voice, "I mean, yes I would."
He gave me such a dopey smile and I couldn't help but smile in return. "Though perhaps we should keep this between ourselves for now."
"Why?" he asked, his smile waning as a pained look entered his eyes.
I quickly waved off whatever negative things he was thinking. "It's nothing like what you're probably thinking. It's because of my brothers." I sighed in annoyed fondness. "They're all very protective, Alaric especially, and I don't want them butting in while we figure out our new relationship for ourselves. Once we do that, then we can tell them and brace for their ridiculous reactions."
The pain left George's eyes as his smile returned. He put his arms around me and hugged me close. I snuggled into his embrace. Despite George being two years younger than me, he was only a bit shorter than me - and would likely continue to grow.
"I can agree to that, though I'll have to tell Fred because he knows what I planned to do and will want an answer. But I promise, Fred won't tell anyone, not even Lee."
"I have absolutely no problems with that. Fred is your twin, so I can understand not wanting to lie or keep secrets from him. For me, it's different when your twin is a different gender. Well, different when your twin is Alaric, who is irrationally protective when it comes to me and my younger sisters especially."
I both felt and heard his chuckle. "Trust me, I get the brotherly protectiveness. If anyone dares to look at Ginny funny, Fred and I would hex them into oblivion, or at least at whatever was left after Ginny was finished with them."
We both chuckled before falling silent. I pulled back and smiled at George. "So, what would my boyfriend like to do now?"
"I'd like to kiss my girlfriend again."
"Done." I am happy to say we completely lost track of time as we shared sweet kisses, basking in the reality that this was indeed happening.
Imbécile = idiot
Chapter 8: The Start of Term Banquet
Chapter Text
Esme POV
At long last the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, the four us already changed into our school robes we each kept in the small bags we brought with us. Just as he did last year, Hagrid stood on the platform with his lantern calling for all the First-Years to gather around him. I remembered fondly the majestic view of Hogwarts castle glowing in the distance of the dark lake. However, as Second-Years, my friends and I followed the older students to where carriages awaited to take us to the castle.
"Merde!" I yelped as I jumped back in fright, accidentally bumping into Theo. I would've fallen if he and Blaise hadn't caught me, but I didn't care at the moment because my eyes remained fixated on the ghastly creatures attached to the carriages.
"Esme, what's wrong?" questioned Daphne.
I glanced over to her face scrunched up in confused concern. "Those creatures, what are they?"
"What creatures?" asked Daphne as she followed where I gestured to.
"Hein? Non, there's some sort of horse, bat, skeleton thing pulling the carriages!"
"There's nothing pulling the carriages, Esme," explained Theo gently. "They're pulling themselves."
"It's alright," Blaise whispered behind me as he took hold of my hand, gently leading me after our friends. "They're thestrals, magical creatures only seen by someone who has witnessed death."
"So then, you can…"
"Yes," Blaise admitted, an oddly serious look overcoming his usually impish face. "I can see them too."
I did my best not to stare at the thestrals and reassured Daphne and Theo I was alright; though honestly, I wasn't entirely alright and kept hold of Blaise's hand for steady reassurance. Blaise easily pretended nothing was wrong and kept everyone's attention on him as he told a humorous story of misfortune which had befallen his mother's husband over the summer. All the while my thoughts churned within my head.
I'd witnessed death? But…no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember who or what I'd ever seen die. So why…why could I see thestrals? And Blaise…he could see them too. How? What did he see? As we climbed into our own carriage, I knew I wouldn't be getting answers any time soon as I carefully released Blaise's hand.
I couldn't just ask Blaise - So who did you see die? I wouldn't even ask that of a stranger, let alone someone I considered my friend. Besides, it was more jarring to me that I could see them. Yet again, who could I ask? If I asked any of my older siblings about what I could've possibly seen die, I'd only freak them out, especially if they couldn't see the thestrals themselves. And honestly, I didn't think I really wanted to know the answer. The thestrals appeared harmless, so as we arrived at the castle, I shoved the whole thing away as unimportant and instead focused on the good memories I would be creating this coming school year with my friends.
Decision made, I was able to properly rejoin the chatter of my friends as we joined the crowd of students meandering into the great hall. It was exciting to be in Hogwarts once again, seeing the gleaming candles floating in the enchanted night sky above our heads, and seeing the four wooden tables with their sparkling gold plate settings. Resting on each golden plate was a black pointed hat (except for the seats closest to the high table) we were meant to wear both now and far later at the End of Year Feast.
We headed down near the end of the Slytherin table, where two Upper-Years were standing and speaking to people - each wearing a shiny green and silver prefect badge on their robes.
"Hello, I'm Garrett Carmichael, one of your prefects, and this is Cara-"
"Buttermere, Cara Buttermere, of the Edinburgh Buttermeres. I'm your other prefect."
"Right, well, please sit to the right of us to leave room for the First-Years," directed Garrett.
We all squeezed in between our fellow Second-Year Slytherins and our two prefects. I ended up between Draco and Blaise, while Theo and Daphne were across from us with Parkinson and her two followers sitting to Daphne's right. Crabbe and Goyle were then on Draco's other side, next to the Upper-Year students. I liked Cara and Garrett, they were polite and friendly, both making a much better impression than Gemma Farley had.
The buzzing energy of all the students continued as the hall and tables slowly filled up. Looking out over the other three House tables, I easily spotted my siblings happily chatting with their Housemates. Dustin and Carlisle seemed to be the center of attention amongst the Fourth-Years, while Alaric was solely focused on Oliver as the two were in deep conversation amongst the Gryffindor Sixth-Years. I smirked when I saw Blaire staring down at George from where she sat with Percy as the Gryffindor prefects - with George staring right on back - and a sort of secretive smile being shared between the two. I wonder…
I was distracted from my thoughts when my eyes caught on Neville and Granger worriedly looking all over - no doubt still searching for any sign of Potter and Weasley. Although, they should've been here before us - the Floo Network and Appararting were both faster than the Hogwarts Express. I shook those thoughts from my mind; not my friends, not my problem.
I looked over at the staff table and sure enough, there was Lockhart dressed in fancy aquamarine robes, sticking out amongst the darker tones the other professors tended to favour (except Dumbledore, who wore a mash-up of various bright colours). Near the end of the table sat Hagrid, drinking from a large goblet which suited his large stature. I managed to catch his eyes and he merrily waved down at me, which I returned with a small wave of my own.
My eyes shifted to a familiar-looking hat sitting on a stool in front of the high table. Every year this aged old hat, which was patched, frayed, and honestly dirt looking, sorted new students into the four different Houses. It felt both long ago and like just the other day when I was sorted. I'd been nervous but excited, and despite the bad things that happened last year, I was happy in Slytherin and knew the hat chose wisely to put me here.
A swish of black caught my eye. Looking over, I frowned as I saw a scowling Professor Snape leaving the great hall, following Monsieur Filch, who honestly had a disturbing looking gleeful smirk on his face. Perhaps Blaise's joking was right and Professor Snape would be the one to fetch Potter and Weasley after all. The large doors shut behind them, and seemed to act as some sort of signal, as suddenly students began to stop talking - a hush now falling over the great hall.
After only a few moments the doors opened once again, with Professor McGonagall leading in the long line of scared and nervous looking First-Years. I easily spotted Ginny among them, her vivid red hair shining under the candlelight. Suddenly one of the small newcomers tripped and tumbled down in the middle of the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. Snickers broke out throughout the hall as the mousey looking boy scrambled to his feet.
Draco was among those who were laughing. "You shouldn't laugh," I lightly admonished. "What if he's sorted into Slytherin?"
"No Slytherin would be like that," replied Draco, though he did stop snickering at least, "let alone anyone from a proper family. I guarantee he's from a nobody family and will certainly not be sorted into Slytherin House."
Finally, all the First-Years reached the front of the great hall and gathered together in front of the steps where Professor McGonagall stood next to the Sorting Hat. Just as it did last year, the hat came to life and began to sing:
Glamourous is not a word
That people use for me,
But don't let that fool or deter
For I speak the truth you'll agree.
We begin my latest debut
With I therein find.
So try me on and I'll tell you
What I see within your mind.
You may do well in Gryffindor,
Where courage is respected.
Their bravery and daring
Are only to be expected.
Or perhaps it is in Hufflepuff,
You'll find your real friends.
Where hard work and loyalty
Are the beginning and the end.
You might belong in Ravenclaw,
If you possess and value wit.
Intelligence, knowledge, learning;
That's the place for it!
Or perhaps it will be Slytherin,
That will form your truest home.
Their cunning and ambition
Lends them great renown.
So put me on and meet your fate
All students do take care
Make haste and do not be late
Begin this adventure if you so dare!
The great hall was filled with applause as the hat finished its song. I was expecting to hear the same song as last year, but was pleasantly surprised to learn that the hat apparently made a new one every year. The Sorting Hat bowed to each of the four tables before going still once again.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted. Akagi, Ayame!" After a moment of hesitation, a dark-haired girl braided into twin-tails walked away from the crowd of First-Years. She sat down and put on the hat, which covered most of her small head and face.
There was a moment's pause before the hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!" The Hufflepuffs then proceeded to clap and cheer for their new Housemate as she joined them.
"Ali, Nadira!"
Another small girl stumbled her way out of the bunch. After a couple of seconds, "Ravenclaw!" was shouted by the hat. Nadira skipped her away to the cheering table to her left.
"Applebee, Jaxton!" was called next, and his last name made me pause. It was the same last name as one of Carlisle and Dustin's friends, Tamsin. I wondered if she was this boy's sister or perhaps even a cousin. Either way, the hat quickly shouted "Hufflepuff!", so brother or cousin, the family members were reunited in the same House.
"Birchgrove, Mason!" went to "Gryffindor!" (the first Gryffindor of the night), while "Bones, Jordan!" went to "Ravenclaw!" - another brother or cousin, though this time to a Susan Bones in my Year. Next was "Brocklehurst, Sabina!" who was one of the friends Fain and Gérard made at the Winter Ball. Half a minute passed before the Sorting Hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!"
"Carmichael, Alfred!" was called and I glanced over at Garrett. From the proud anticipation shining on his face, it was clear this was his younger brother. Alfred only wore the hat for a couple of seconds before it shouted, "Slytherin!", making him the first Slytherin to be sorted. Garrett did his best to clap the loudest of everyone as he welcomed his brother with open arms. Alfred turned bright red at the reception and shyly accepted the open seat next to his elder brother.
Next to be called was "Cinderford, Mark!" - another familiar family name, though this time it belonged to Alaric's other Gryffindor friend, Brian. When the Sorting Hat shouted "Gryffindor!" I saw a boy near Alaric, waving and cheering loudly, proving Mark to be another younger sibling. While I had no interest in daydreaming about being in another Hogwarts House, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be in the same House as one of my siblings. I didn't have too long to ponder because Professor McGonagall continued to call names without pause.
"Coote, Ritchie!", "Creevey, Colin!", and "Jordan, Vivian!" were all sorted into "Gryffindor!", while "Fleet, Lukus!", "Lovegood, Luna!", and "McManus, Patrick!" were all sorted into "Ravenclaw!".
So far there had been a large number of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, and shockingly only one Slytherin. Part of me did wonder what would happen if Alfred remained the only Slytherin First-Year; honestly it was a depressing thought. "Montague, Leonard!" was called up next and was quickly sorted into "Slytherin!" - thus ensuring Alfred wouldn't be alone in his dormitory.
Two more First-Years, "O'Flaherty" and "Rickett", were sorted into "Hufflepuff!" - one of them being the small, mousey boy who had embarrassingly tripped in front of the entire school. Five more First-Years were sorted into the various Houses before "Snyde, Merula!" became the first girl to be sorted into "Slytherin!"
I remembered how last year I hadn't paid too close attention to the sorting, while now I was watching and listening closely, very interested in seeing who was sorted into the various Houses, especially my own.
Professor McGonagall next called for "Truman, Sarah!" After what felt like the longest minute of my life, the Sorting Hat finally shouted, "Hufflepuff!" The next two First-Years, "Vaisey, Corban!" and "Warrington, Urquhart!", were both sorted into "Slytherin!"- with Urquhart being only the second girl Slytherin First-Year. I was happy that Murela had the chance of making a close friend in her own House, though I was surprised there were so few new Slytherin girls this year.
Next was "Weasley, Ginevra!", and I watched with a smile as the Sorting Hat quickly sorted her into "Gryffindor!" with the rest of her family. Percy welcomed his sister with a proud smile and pat on the back, while Blaire gently led Ginny to where she could sit. The Weasley twins stomped and cheered for their little sister the entire time in a clear effort to embarrass her - which worked going by the scarlet colour of Ginny's face.
"Winikus, Maria!" was quickly sorted into "Hufflepuff!", leaving one last First-Year standing alone in front of the small steps at the front of the hall. Once again, Professor McGonagall called out a familiar family name; "Wood, Rodger!" was without a doubt Oliver's younger brother. The entire great hall seemed to hold its breath as we waited for the Sorting Hat to make its decision.
"Slytherin!"
After a pause of shocked silence, the Slytherin table cheered for their final Housemate. I clapped along with everyone else, but my eyes sought out where Oliver was sitting at the Gryffindor table. He appeared surprised but was still smiling and clapping for his little brother. Alaric caught my eyes then - he smiled brightened as he nodded his head at me. I nodded back, promising that Oliver's brother would be fine.
Dumbledore rose from his ornate chair, hand in the air calling for quiet. Once the clapping subsided, he threw his arms out wide. "Welcome one, welcome all, to a new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Without further delay, let the feast…begin!" Just as he said his final word, the dishes on the table magically filled with mounds of food. Many cheered and awed at the display before quickly helping themselves to the bountiful dishes in front of them.
While I was grabbing myself a roll from the bowl, I noticed Professor Snape had returned to the great hall and was speaking to Professor McGonagall intently. Neither appeared happy (practically thunderous) as they hurried out of a side door behind the high table. What had happened?
"I can't believe there are only six Slytherin First-Years," commented Daphne, distracting me.
Parkinson made a scoffing noise. "What did you expect, Daphne?" she asked in a condescending voice.
"Well…there were ten of us last year," Daphne replied, looking a lot less sure of herself.
I quickly came to my friend's defense. "I agree with Daphne, it is surprising there are only six when each of the other three Houses have more than that."
"It just goes to show that there weren't many who were worthy of being in Slytherin," boasted Draco, who received several forms of agreements from various others.
"Hey, look!" exclaimed Bulstrode suddenly. "Dumbledore is actually leaving the great hall in the middle of dinner. He's never done that before."
"Dumbles is probably off to pick up Potter himself," sneered Draco.
Blaise pulled away from speaking with Clara. "Actually, turns out Potter and Weasley took a flying car to get here, and were seen by Muggles."
"What?" - "Merlin's pants!" - "Those idiots!", all floated from nearby voices.
Blaise continued, "Rumors are that they've already been expelled. Some say they're on trial to go to Azkaban for breaking the Statute of Secrecy, while others are saying they crashed and are currently lying injured in the hospital wing."
Draco started laughing, a pleased smirk stretched across his face. "Goes to show Gryffindors can't think things through. I mean, a flying car? Who does that?" Draco's laughter picked up.
I was both surprised and unsurprised by the actions of those two. On the one hand they broke the Statute of Secrecy, which was both infuriatingly idiotic and completely terrifying. On the other hand, it was Potter and Weasley, two of the brashest Gryffindors who never thought things through. Their actions last year had shown it and this latest incident proved it.
"Gryffindors apparently," I commented. "They're so dull-witted their minds have withered away from lack of use."
We all shared a laugh at that. While my words sounded like I was referring to all Gryffindors, I was just commenting on Potter and Weasley. Still, that was all the time I wanted to spend on those two, before they ruined this banquet without even being here to do so. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one thinking so, and the conversation quickly shifted away from the Gryffindors.
"So when do you think the Slytherin Quidditch team will be holding tryouts to find a new Seeker?" asked Theo, stirring up everyone's excitement over Quidditch.
"The first match isn't until after Samhain," I replied, "so any time after the first week."
Draco slammed his hand on the table. "Yeah, but it'll be sooner rather than later for team practices, and I'm going to get it!"
"You sure will!" agreed Parkinson. "You're the best flyer in our Year!"
An ugly look overcame Bulstrode's face. "Say, are you gonna try out, Archard? You're certainly butch enough for it." Bulstrode started cackling, with Parkinson and Davis joining in with their own laughter.
I had no idea what 'butch' meant, but her tone clearly implied it was some sort of insult. "I'm not much of a flyer myself, but you know, you should think about trying out yourself, Bulstrode. Your face would certainly ward off the Bludgers."
Now it was my friends and mine's turn to snicker at Bulstrode, who turned a purple-red color as she screeched in outrage.
"Oi!" called down Garrett. "Keep it down! There's no fighting outside the common room, come on, you two should know better."
"You're Second-Years now. You should be setting an example for the Years below yours," scolded Cara.
We apologized for getting out of hand and went back to enjoying the feast of delicious food before us. Dumbledore later returned with both Professors Snape and McGonagall, all three quickly helping themselves to what was left of the banquet before it was set to disappear to make way for dessert. Even with their return, there was no sign of Potter and Weasley, giving more credence to the rumors Blaise had shared with us.
Dinner disappeared before too long, leaving sparkling clean plates behind. Then to everyone's delight, the mountains of sugary treats appeared. I helped myself to some cake and ice cream, more willing to try some British desserts in favor of the more familiar ones. Soon I felt completely full and relaxed into my seat, delicately sipping on my still steaming cup of tea as I waited for the feast to end.
I didn't have to wait long before the desserts disappeared, and Dumbledore stood up once more to address us all, the great hall falling silent as he did. "What a wonderful feast once again! Now that we're all fed and watered, I have a few notices to give. Foremost, First-Years please note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to enter without the escort of a professor."
Interesting…the once forbidden forest was now open to students if they had a professor with them. Gosh, I wonder why Dumbledore changed the rules on that, I thought sarcastically.
Dumbledore continued, "Furthermore, all students please remember that there is no magic allowed to be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held two weeks from now. Anyone interested in playing for their team please contact Madam Hooch."
Dumbledore then moved sideways as he gestured behind him. "Now, I'd like to introduce to you all, Gilderoy Lockhart, who has graciously agreed to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year."
Lockhart stood in his chair, smiling brightly and waving at the clapping and cheering students (most of which were by the female students and professors). I politely clapped, but stopped and rolled my eyes when the wizard actually struck a pose. Finally, Dumbledore signalled for everyone to quiet down.
"And now, the moment you all no doubt have been waiting for," called Dumbledore. "Let us sing the school song!"
Oh sweet Circe, I had forgotten about this ridiculous custom.
With a flick of his wand, a long golden ribbon flew out and rose high above the tables, twisting itself like a snake into words. "Everyone pick your own tune and off we go!"
And the school bellowed:
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains rot.
Oh Mother Magic, that song was even more painful to participate in than last year. Still, some students did enjoy it, and while it was the weirdest song I had ever had to sing, it was humorous to listen to the pure chaos it unleashed. As it was last year, Dumbledore was the most enthused about the song and clapped the loudest over our 'wonderful' performance.
Following the song, Dumbledore dismissed us to our common rooms with his usual odd flair, and I was happy to head off to bed. I was pleasantly full and tired after the long day. Cara and Garrett led the way to the Slytherin common room, with the First-Years following behind them like little ducks following after their mama (so cute).
I stayed together with my friends as we followed behind, the older students all safely boxing in around the First-Years to ensure none of them wandered off or took a wrong turn by accident. Down the marble staircase we went, the familiar chill of the dungeons soon greeting us. I may not like being cold all that much, but even this unpleasant feeling was nostalgic to me and I greeted it with a fond smile.
Cara and Garrett stopped in front of the stone wall which led to the common room and turned to address the small group of First-Years. Cara began, "This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room. To enter, simply say the password out loud to the wall for the entranceway to reveal itself. If it does not, then you have either the wrong wall or the wrong password."
Garrett picked where Cara paused. "Passwords change every two weeks, and are always posted on the noticeboard inside the common room. If at any time you don't know the current password, you can ask one of the Upper-Years for it, or the far portrait of Lady Daryle can always tell you if you ask politely."
"It is strictly forbidden to bring any non-Slytherin students into the common room or even to reveal the password to them," Cara explained sternly. "No outsider has ever entered the Slytherin common room in centuries. This is a serious rule, which our Head of House, Professor Snape, will swiftly punish for if you are ever determined to have broken it."
Garrett then turned to face the wall and announced loud enough for the First-Years and those of us nearby to hear, "Viridi et Argenteo."
The entranceway appeared before our eyes and we all quickly walked through, entering our beloved common room. Everything was just as I remembered it - honestly, nothing had changed at all. The décor was still green-themed with rough stone walls, with greenish lamps lighting up the room. All the black and dark green button-tufted leather sofas and armchairs remained placed in groups throughout the common room, and my eyes shifted to the one corner my friends and I favoured for both studying and socializing. I was home.
Garrett got the attention of the First-Years. "We just have a few final announcements before we let you all head off to bed. I'm Garrett Carmichael-"
"-And I'm Cara Buttermere," Cara interjected. "We are your Slytherin prefects."
Garrett cleared his throat. "If you have any questions, you can ask either Cara or myself and we'd be happy to answer them. Follow the rules and do well, so together we'll lead Slytherin to victory in the House Cup!"
Cara then pointed her arm towards the dormitories' corridor. "Through there is where you'll find the dormitories. Each Year has its own room. Girls are on the left, while boys are on the right."
Finally, with all they needed to say done, Cara and Garrett moved aside and let the First-Years shuffle off to wherever they wanted to go. All of them beelined for the dormitories, with many Upper-Years following close behind them - clearly anxious to get to bed themselves.
Daphne and I shared a look and together left to go to bed ourselves after waving goodbye to the boys (who surprisingly chose to stay up a bit longer). As Daphne and I entered the dormitories' corridor, I was surprised to find that the door to our old dormitory was now marked Second-Years.
We entered the familiar rectangular room, finding it just as unchanged as the rest of the common room. Five four-poster beds stood spaced apart with green silk hangings, and a small wardrobe, wooden chair, and full-length mirror set near each bed. Daphne and I naturally chose the same beds we did last year, both out of habit and to avoid an argument with the other girls if they were upset if we 'dared to take what was theirs'.
We quickly got ready for bed and I sighed in relief when I crawled under my warm blankets. With a soft good night said to Daphne, I drifted off to sleep to the comforting sounds of the lake moving in the outside breeze.
Merde = shit
Hein = what?
Non = No
Monsieur = mister
Sorting Hat song credited to apple_crumble1 on Reddit
Chapter 9: Nibbering Nonce
Chapter Text
Esme POV
“Esme, it’s time to get up.”
I groaned and rolled away from the noise that was disturbing my sleep.
“Come on, wake up…Pansy said she’s smarter than you.”
I snorted and opened my eyes, gazing up at Daphne standing near my bed. “That’s the best you could do?”
“It got you to open your eyes, didn’t it?” Daphne asked with an impish smile. “Now get up before the other girls do and hog all the sinks.”
“Alright~” I leaned up and stretched, sighing happily. I felt refreshed and ready for the first day of classes. Daphne and I got ready, finishing up just as Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Davis staggered into the washroom themselves.
“Only a nerd like you would be happy to be up early like this. The morning is evil,” groaned Parkinson as she pushed past me to get to the nearest sink.
I rolled my eyes at her poorly attempted insult. “Perhaps, though best hurry if you want to tame that bird’s nest and wash away that troll breath.”
“Like yours is any better,” shot back Bulstrode in her friend’s defense, though it didn’t matter as Daphne and I left the washroom without another word.
Daphne giggled as she grabbed her school bag while I used my mirror to pin my snake pin to my green and silver tie. “We’ve barely begun our Second-Year and you two are already exchanging barbs.”
“Honestly at this point, it’s expected. If we didn’t exchange insults, I'd fear one of us was deathly ill,” I replied with a wry smile as I grabbed my own bag and followed Daphne out of our dormitory.
We were both still giggling as we entered the common room, joining the small trickle of students ambling their way towards the entrance. After double checking the password (it was still Viridi et Argenteo), Daphne and I joined the flow of students and made our way to the great hall for breakfast.
As it was still relatively early in the morning, the hall wasn’t overly filled with students yet. I was pleasantly surprised to see most of the Slytherin First-Years clustered together at the end of the table, blearily eating their breakfast under the cloudy grey enchanted sky above them.
Two of the boys were the only ones missing, though Rodger, Oliver’s young brother, wasn’t one of them. I wondered if I should be extra friendly with him because our brothers were close friends, but as Daphne and I sat down, I quickly decided not to. I wouldn’t want someone taking special interest in me because of someone else - being polite was a given, but not going out of the way kind of friendly - so I certainly wouldn’t treat Rodger that way.
While Daphne selected her own breakfast from the various tureens of porridge and plates of kippers, toast, eggs, and bacon, I poured myself my morning cup of tea. I sighed in bliss as what little tiredness clinging to me vanished as I sipped it, and then fixed myself a plate.
Students continued to trickle in, the four tables slowly filling up and the noise began to grow as students chattered and greeted one another. A sudden silence heralded the entrance of Potter and Weasley who shuffled over to seats at the Gryffindor table, heads down as they avoided the stares fixated on them as the murmuring of the students picked up again. It was good those two at least appeared contrite about their actions yesterday. Hopefully they were appropriately punished seeing as they weren’t expelled.
When I saw Neville settle himself not far from the two troublesome Gryffindors, the frown I wasn’t aware was on my face vanished as I managed to catch his eye and smile in greeting - one which he quickly returned. My view of him was cut off when Theo and Blaise sat down across from Daphne and I, Theo unleashing a long yawn.
“How late did the two of you stay up last night?” asked Daphne, more amused than concerned about their tiredness.
“Honestly, not that late. We only played one round of Wizard’s Chess,” said Theo as he fixed himself his own cup of tea. He then pointed his thumb at Blaise. “This one however, woke me up extra early because he needed to borrow my comb since he apparently forgot his.”
“Really? You forgot something as important as your comb?” I teased Blaise, waving my empty fork in his direction.
“Shocking, I know,” admitted Blaise. “But Theo hardly needs his comb with his hair so short.” Blaise flicked his head, his ebony curls fluttering before they settled. “Gorgeous locks like mine need gentle care.”
Theo snorted into his arm, poorly covering up a snicker. “Mate, you care way too much about your hair for a bloke.”
“Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter in my opinion,” said Blaise. “Everyone should take care with their appearance, or else they’ll end up looking like bushy-haired Granger.”
We all turned around, easily spotting said hair. Granger remained unaware of her surroundings as her face was shoved into what was clearly one of Lockhart’s books leaned against one of the drink jugs. We all snickered as we returned to our plates of food. Granger really did have the most atrociously bushy curls I’d ever seen; she really should find better products for her hair.
A chorus of owl hoots, cries, and whistles soon filled the great hall as hundreds of owls streamed in, circling through the enchanted clouds as they dropped off packages and letters to their recipients. Blaise glanced up just in time to catch a medium square package before it landed on his plate of food. A gorgeous and sleek screech owl settled itself on the table near Blaise and proceeded to start preening Blaise’s hair.
“Twila, stop it!” whined Blaise as he shooed the owl away from him. Twila only chirped at Blaise as she flapped her wings at him before taking off.
The three of us giggled as Blaise went about fixing his ruffled hair with an annoyed look on face.
Splat!
We all stopped and turned towards the noise, only to laugh and giggle. Some owl had apparently had a less than graceful landing, having fallen into one of the jugs, spraying Granger, Potter, and Weasley with whatever was in it. Weasley had just put down the poor unconscious owl onto the table when a shout rang out, “Look everyone! Weasley’s got himself a Howler!”
Dead silence filled the great hall as everyone became fixated at the notorious red envelope still clutched in the bedraggled owl’s beak. I’d never actually seen one before, though I heard about them from my older siblings, as they had witnessed a few while attending Beauxbatons. Unsurprisingly, Weasley looked absolutely terrified and refused to touch it - not that doing so would stop the inevitable.
Smoke began to rise from the corners of the envelope just as Weasley shakingly reached out and took it. I waited with baited breath as he slowly reached for the black waxed seal. Even though I had been expecting it, I still flinched when the shrill roar rang out.
“ RONALD WEASLEY! ”
I quickly covered my ears with my hands as the envelope folded itself into the appearance of a face, thankfully muffling the continued tirade of Madame Weasley magically berating her youngest son.
“ How dare you steal that car! I am absolutely disgusted! I don’t suppose you stopped to think what your father and I went through when we saw it was gone! You and Harry could both have died! You wait till I get hold of you, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d expelled you! ”
Madame Weasley’s yells were so loud, I saw the cutlery and empty plates rattling on the table, and seemed to echo off the stone walls. Weasley had sunk as far he could on the wooden bench, his face redder than his hair.
“ -Letter from Dumbledore last night, I thought your father would die of shame. We didn’t bring you up to behave like this! Your father’s now facing an inquiry at work and it’s entirely your fault! If you put another toe out of line, we’ll bring you straight home! ”
The last line of Madame Weasley’s rant rang before there was only silence. The red envelope then floated over to little Ginny sitting a couple of places down from her brother. In a jarringly soft voice, it went on to say, “ Oh and Ginny dear, congratulations on being sorted into Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud! ”
No one moved as the red envelope burst into flames, curling in itself as it turned to ash. Someone began laughing - someone being Draco - with others throughout the hall joining in. Daphne nudged me and we both snickered at the stunned faces of Potter and Weasley.
I didn’t feel even a smidge of pity for Weasley. This embarrassment in front of the entire school was the least he (and by association, Potter) deserved for breaking the Statute of Secrecy. They probably weren’t expelled or worse because of Dumbledore wanting to protect his precious Gryffindors.
“I’ll remember that look on Weasley’s face for years to come!” Draco announced to the table, earning a few more snickers from people, though most everyone had gone back to their own conversations.
Blaise finally opened his package - his mother had sent along his forgotten comb as well as some extra ink and some sort of product for his hair. While he was happy his mother sent these things to him, his mood soured when he read the letter she sent along with it. She had written in Italian, and since none of us spoke more than five words of it, we had to coax Blaise into translating.
“My mother wrote that she’s pregnant.”
“Congratulations?” I offered hesitantly.
“What’s got your wand in a knot, mate?” asked Theo.
“It’s not the fact I may be getting another sibling. My mother has always wanted another child, specifically a girl. But it’s the fact that she chose to write the news to me instead of telling me in person because she wanted to avoid me reacting poorly in front of Giovanni.”
I winced in empathy. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Blaise.”
“It does stink,” comforted Daphne, placing her hand over his on the table. “But try to focus on the fact that you’ll be a big brother this time next year!”
A sudden sob interrupted our conversation. We all looked over to see Parkinson holding her hands to her face before she bolted from the table and out of the great hall. Bulstrode quickly grabbed both their things and hurried after her friend.
“What just happened?” I quickly asked Davis who had started to rise as well.
She froze as she seemed to realize everyone in our part of the table was staring at her for answers. She hesitated, but then sat back down. “Um…well, what Greengrass said sort of reminded Pansy of some sad news.”
“What did I say wrong?” asked Daphne in a perplexed voice.
Davis clearly didn’t want to say. “Spill it, Davis,” ordered Draco, as he paused from eating to her down through her glasses.
And spill she did. “Pansy’s mother was expecting a baby. She told Pansy she would be a big sister when she got home for summer break, but…there’s no baby anymore…” As Davis trailed off, the rest of us were dead silent. I may not like Parkinson, but that was just…heartbreaking to hear. No wonder she reacted the way she did…I actually felt guilty about this morning.
The oppressing silence was broken when Professor Snape cleared his throat. All of us were startled, not realizing the professor had even left the high table. “Your schedules,” he intoned with a bored voice, then proceeded to pass out a piece of parchment to each of us in turn. With both Parkinson and Bulstrode missing, Professor Snape handed their schedules to Davis with a sharp reminder there were no excuses to be late for class.
“Thank you, sir,” I said politely, though Professor Snape hardly spared any of us a glance before he moved on to the Third-Years.
I looked over my schedule, only to groan. “We have double Herbology first thing today.”
“Yes, but then we have History of Magic, thus can enjoy being lulled to sleep by Professor Binns’ voice,” Theo pointed out.
Daphne chimed in from beside me, “We also have Defense Against the Dark Arts later. I bet my wand we share it and Herbology with Gryffindor again this year.”
“Joy,” Blaise sarcastically replied.
“Any chance Know-It-All Granger got a clue over summer break?” asked Theo.
I snickered. “As likely as a Goblin giving away free gold.”
“Honestly, the Gryffindors would be tolerable in class if it wasn’t for Granger,” said Daphne as we all gathered our things to head to our first class. “The less I have to share a classroom with her, the better.”
“You know, she may even be worse this year since she wasn’t ranked first in our Year last term,” I pointed out. “She might feel like she needs to try harder to surpass Draco.”
They all groaned at the thought. “Yeah, but those rankings are based on the final exams, not our performance in class,” Theo pointed out. “She’d have better luck studying overmuch than obsessively answering all the questions in class.”
“Know-It-All might go for both just to prove she can,” countered Blaise.
“Well rankings are all a long way away. Let’s just focus on right now,” I advised, internally dreading Herbology class first-thing.
“Alright, though don’t look too excited for your favorite class, Esme,” teased Daphne as she bumped my shoulder.
“ Tais-toi !”
The three of them shared a laugh at my expense, though I soon joined in as I wasn’t really offended. We left the castle behind and made our way to the greenhouses. As we neared them, we saw several other Slytherin and Gryffindor Second-Years gathered outside, including Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Davis.
“Why are you waiting out here?” asked Blaise.
All the girls, both Slytherin and Gryffindor, didn’t even acknowledge Blaise as they were staring intently at something in the distance. It was one of the Gryffindor boys (no idea what his name was) who answered. “We’re waiting for Professor Sprout. Her and Professor Lockhart are fixing up the whomping willow.”
Looking over, there indeed stood the large willow with several branches in slings while there were small piles of broken branches littered across the ground. Potter and Weasley must really have done some serious damage last night. Though I may be close to the worst at Herbology, it seemed odd to me that the treatment for the whomping willow was bandages of all things.
Professor Sprout then came bustling into view with her arms full of bandages, Professor Lockhart following not far after, his arms completely empty. He appeared to be jabbering away while Professor Sprout looked quite disgruntled. The two made quite an odd pair; Professor Sprout almost always had dirt on her hands and robes, while Professor Lockhart appeared immaculate in his fancy turquoise robes.
“Oh hello there!” called out Professor Lockhart when he noticed us. “Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a whomping willow. But I don’t want you running away with the idea that I’m better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels.”
“What can bandages do to help a tree, magical or otherwise?” questioned Theo.
“Shut it, Theo!” snapped Parkinson. “If Professor Lockhart said to do it, then it will help!”
Theo grumbled a bit but said nothing else to argue further. I knew we’d all be treating Parkinson a bit differently for a while after what Davis told us. While she had no visible signs of her earlier breakdown, we knew it happened and why, and none of us were so awful as to either mention it or even offer words of sympathy. If Parkinson didn’t want to talk to us about it, then we would honor her privacy and pretend we didn’t know anything.
Glancing to my side, I frowned when I saw that Daphne had joined the other girls and was admiring Professor Lockhart as he directed Professor Sprout about. How could they be so admiring of him when he was not even helping Professor Sprout, leaving her to do all the work.
Before I could say something to my friend, Professor Sprout had marched over to us (her usual smile nowhere in sight). “Greenhouse three today, chaps!”
Murmurs of interest broke out as we followed the professor to the greenhouse - who supposedly housed more dangerous and lively plants than any of the ones we previously worked with in greenhouse one or two. I, however, was distinctly nervous as I dreaded the no doubt increased difficulty of dealing with these plants. Please Mother Magic, let some of the skills and knowledge Neville had painstakingly cultivated last year remain with me over the summer (or else this would be a long year of pain and frustration).
Professor Sprout unlocked the door with a large key from her belt before ushering us in. The air was heavy with damp earth, fertilizer, and a heady scent of flowers - most likely the giant umbrella-sized flower dangling from the roof above us.
“Harry!”
We all turned to see Professor Lockhart with his hand on Potter’s shoulder in the greenhouse doorway.
“I’ve been wanting a word.” He then looked up to Professor Sprout. “You don’t mind if he’s a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?” By the tense set of her shoulders, she did mind. “That’s the ticket,” he said before she could answer, and actually closed the greenhouse door in Professor Sprout’s face.
How rude!
All of us shifted back when Professor Sprout turned around sharply, an honest to Magic scowl on her face.
“Merlin’s pants, she really doesn’t like him,” whispered Blaise.
“Can you blame her?” Theo whispered back.
“He has to be really something else to get Professor Sprout that upset,” I added in the same hushed tone. “I didn’t even think she could scowl.”
After a couple of deep breaths, Professor Sprout’s usual smile stretched across her face. “Alright chaps, line up along the trestle bench there.”
Everyone obeyed without a sound, naturally settling in front of one of the many different colored earmuffs lying spread out on the bench. I ended up between Theo and Draco and noticed that Granger and Weasley made sure to leave a space between them for Potter. We all had finally settled in our spots when Potter slid inside the greenhouse, pointedly looking at the ground.
“We’ll be repotting mandrakes today,” announced Professor Sprout. “Now, who can tell me the properties of the mandrake?”
Both Theo and Draco raised their hands, but they weren’t as fast as Granger, whose hand shot into the air before the professor even finished asking her question. To nobody’s surprise, the professor called on Granger.
“Mandrake, or mandragora, is a powerful restorative,” recited Granger. “It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state.”
I rolled my eyes. She hadn’t changed at all over the summer break. She still sounded like she repeated the very words in a book aloud as if she didn’t have an original thought in her head.
“Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor,” said Professor Sprout. “The mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?”
Granger’s hand shot up first once again. Without being called on, I saw Granger open her mouth about to answer, when to all our surprise, Professor Sprout cut her off. “Yes, Mr. Nott?”
I heard Draco snicker beside me as I watched Granger’s face flush red.
Theo answered, “A mature mandrake’s cry will cause death to any living thing that can hear it.”
“Precisely. Ten points to Slytherin.”
I knew I wasn’t the only Slytherin who was happy she actually called on someone other than Granger. Though honestly, if it wasn’t for the House points, I doubted anyone would bother trying to answer when Granger felt she had to answer every single question. I mean, none of the other Gryffindors even tried to raise their hands at this point.
“Now, the mandrakes we have here are still very young,” Professor Sprout said as she pointed to the row of deep trays where a hundred of tufty little purplish green plants were growing, “so their cries won’t kill you yet, but they could knock you out for several hours. Which is why I have laid out for each of you a pair of earmuffs for auditory protection.”
We all took that as a cue to pick up our own pair, several people scrambling as they tried to seize a pair that wasn’t pink and fluffy. I had little care of what color they were and simply picked up the fuchsia ones in front of me.
“When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered,” explained Professor Sprout as she picked up her own pair of green and brown earmuffs. “When it is safe to remove them, I will give the thumbs up. Right, earmuffs on.”
Following her example, I quickly snapped the earmuff over my ears, patting them down to ensure the flaps covered my entire ear tightly. I blinked in amazement as I realized they truly did block out all sound - it was a very weird feeling.
Professor Sprout waved her hands, catching everyone’s attention. She then rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly and pulled up hard. Just as they were pictured in our textbook, the mandrake resembled a baby made out of roots, and it was clearly bawling at the top of its lungs as it wiggled slightly from where it dangled from Professor Sprout’s hand.
She then took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the mandrake into it, burying it in dark and damp looking dirt until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave us the thumbs up, and removed her own earmuffs.
I carefully pulled back the earmuffs from my ears and settled them around my neck. “Now there’s plenty of pots to go around. No more than four to a tray. You’ll find compost in the sacks over there and do be careful of the venomous tentacula, it’s teething.” She gave a sharp slap to the spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder. “And remember, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.”
I went to go over where Daphne was heading when I felt someone grab my hand. Turning around, I saw it was Draco. “Esme, would you like to come with me to a tray over there?”
While I had wanted to work with my friends, I remember my promise to myself to try harder to be friends with Draco, so I agreed, though I took my hand out of Draco’s grasp. I followed him to the nearby tray where Goyle was already standing with Parvati Patil - who was putting as much distance between herself and Goyle as she could.
“I think the mandrakes are kind of cute,” commented Draco as we got our supplies ready.
Giggling I replied, “I suppose they are for something that can kill with their voice.”
After that we didn’t have any more chances to talk, as Professor Sprout ordered everyone to get started, so our earmuffs were back in place. Draco went first and after a few tugs, yanked up the nearest mandrake by its leaves. While it squirmed in his hand, Draco was smiling as he actually tickled it with his finger.
The mandrake apparently didn’t like it as it promptly bit his finger, hard enough that Draco really had to pull to get his finger out of its mouth. I found it funny and couldn’t help but laugh. While Draco couldn’t hear me, he did glance over at me, and seeing my amusement, he blushed in embarrassment.
Giving him a reprieve, I turned back the tray to get started on my own mandrake. Goyle had already yanked up his in a single tug, but I found it wasn’t as easy as they had made it look. I felt the mandrake fighting against my tugs, so I had to use both hands to finally yank it out of the pot. Mine appeared more agitated than Draco’s as it was both squirming and kicking, swinging from where I held it up with both hands as it flailed its little fists.
Across from me, Parvati was still struggling to get her mandrake out of the pot. I paused with mine still wiggling around in my hands as Goyle abandoned burying his mandrake to reach over and grasp onto Parvati’s. She instantly let go at the contact, a startled look on her face. We both watched, wide-eyed as Goyle heaved it up with one tug and easily squashed it down into a nearby pot. He then went back to tossing dirt onto his mandrake, eyes fixated on his work.
Parvati and I made eye contact as we blinked at each other. I then smiled brightly and focused on my own work. That was surprisingly cute to watch. Part of me hoped that such interactions with other Houses could slowly change others’ perception of Slytherin - though it was probably wishful thinking on my part.
Focusing back on my own mandrake, I spent the better part of the next ten minutes trying to force its squirming body into its new pot. These mandrakes were both fussy about getting pulled up and fussy about being pushed down.
By the end of class, I had dirt on my hands, face and robes, and felt quite sweaty - it was disgusting. Everyone else was in just as bad shape as I was, though admittedly, Goyle did do most of the work near the end as the only one who could still yank up the mandrakes in a single tug. Still, everyone was in agreement to go back to the common room to wash up, as not one of us wanted to spend a minute longer as we were.
Thankfully, the washroom connected to our dormitory had three showers, so with minimum fighting the five of us managed to shower and change before hurrying to get to our next class. The boys had all beat us to the classroom, and for the first time in my life, I was late for class. However, since it was Professor Binns, the most oblivious Hogwarts professor, he hadn’t even noticed we were a few minutes late. He simply continued to droll on with his lecture, so the girls and I avoided any sort of punishment, not even losing any House points!
By the time class was over, my hair had finally finished drying. I hastily tied it back in a ponytail in an attempt to tame my wild curls since my butterfly clips weren’t really doing the best job at the moment. Once the lunch bell rang, several of the Hufflepuff students who had fallen asleep jerked awake. Daphne and I giggled as we gathered our things and filed out of the classroom, both eager and famished for lunch.
Theo and Blaise had fallen behind on the way there, so Daphne and I made ourselves comfortable in our spots at the Slytherin table without them. The boys finally joined us, with Blaise having a pleased smirk on his face - no doubt having some sort of interesting gossip to share.
“Everyone listen to this,” Blaise announced, getting the attention of all the Second-Years, and even a few of the nearby First-Years and Upper-Years. “So when Potter and Weasley crashed into the whomping willow last night, Weasley accidentally broke his own wand. It’s nearly snapped in half and is only being held together with Spellotape!”
“Sweet Circe…” Unconsciously, my hand went straight to my robe pocket, reassuring myself that my own wand was safe and intact. I couldn’t imagine it becoming damaged, let alone almost broken in half.
“Can Weasley even use it anymore?” asked Rodger, who was sitting nearby.
Blaise glanced at the First-Year before addressing everyone once again. “A little birdy did tell me that during Gryffindor’s Transfiguration class, Weasley’s spells only produced rotten smelling smoke and it sparks at random moments.”
“So not really,” I said to Rodger, who nodded before turning back to his fellow First-Years.
Draco laughed. “With a wand damaged beyond repair, Weasley’s practically a Muggle until his parents can scrounge up enough galleons for a new wand.”
Many others laughed as well, though I refrained as nothing he said was funny or amusing. Theo and Daphne seemed to agree with me, while Blaise only snickered. To be without a wand for who knew how long…it was a daunting thing to imagine. Weasley would be at a constant disadvantage in all the classes requiring the use of magic.
I then realized that Weasley would likely continue to try using his damaged wand anyways since he actually tried to fix it himself; he’d be a walking disaster and a danger to anyone around him if he attempted another spell! Hopefully Professor McGonagall as both his professor and Head of House cautioned Weasley, or better yet, told him to never attempt to use his broken wand again.
The rest of lunch passed pleasantly and soon it was time to leave for our next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts. We were just entering the courtyard when up ahead Draco shouted, “Everyone queue up! Harry Potter’s giving out signed photos!”
“I wonder which star-struck First-Year started all of this?” I asked my friends.
Theo shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter. Let’s just go and get to class.”
“Hang on, mate,” Blaise said as he stopped Theo from walking away. “Let’s see how this plays out.”
Since I was curious as well, I followed Blaise over to the small crowd.
“You’re just jealous,” interjected this tiny little First-Year, his red and gold tie identifying him as a Gryffindor.
“Foolish little firstie,” Blaise muttered under his breath, and I agreed with him. Draco wasn’t one to step down from a perceived challenge, and I worried about the trouble this little Gryffindor would get himself into.
“Jealous?” sneered Draco. He glanced around at the gathered crowd with a smirk. “Jealous of what? I don’t want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don’t think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself.”
Crabbe and Goyle dutifully sniggered from their usual places behind Draco.
“Eat slugs, Malfoy,” replied Ron angrily, pushing himself slightly in front of Potter. Crabbe and Goyle instantly responded to the perceived threat against Draco, each taking a step forward, while Crabbe started rubbing his knuckles as if preparing to hit Weasley.
“I don’t like this,” whispered Daphne, her eyes shifting between the boys.
“Be careful, Weasley,” sneered Draco. “You don’t want to start any trouble or your Mommy’ll have to come and take you away from school.” He put on a shrill, piercing voice. “If you put another toe out of line.”
A knot of Slytherin Fifth-Years nearby headed by Flint laughed loudly at this. Clearly none of the Upper-Years nearby of any House were going to interfere in the escalating confrontation. It was like Flourish and Blotts all over again.
“Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter,” smirked Draco. “It’d be worth more than his family’s whole house-”
Draco cut off when Weasley whipped out his Spellotaped wand, with several other students stepping back from the damaged wand. Both Blaise and Theo instantly shoved Daphne and me behind them, and Daphne clutched onto me. I held her back just as tightly as I prepared to pull us to the grass at a moment’s notice should Weasley start recklessly shooting off spells in the crowded courtyard.
“What’s all this, what’s all this?” I relaxed as Professor Lockhart came striding into the center of the crowd. “Who’s giving out signed photos?”
At the drop of the hat, Professor Lockhart went from a slightly stern, to jovial as he threw his arm around Potter. “Shouldn’t have asked! We meet again, Harry!”
Potter flushed bright red as he was pinned to Lockhart’s side. Several students snickered in the crowd as Professor Lockhart got the Gryffindor First-Year, Mr. Creevey, to take his and Potter’s photo.
“Off you go, move along there,” he commanded the crowd when the bell for afternoon classes rang, though most of the crowd had already started walking away.
Draco sauntered up to the four of us. “Esme, may I walk you to class?”
I briefly glanced behind Draco, catching Potter’s eye as he was still held trapped against Professor Lockhart. When a betrayed look entered his eyes, I felt anger bubble in my chest. I turned away and smiled at Draco. “Of course.”
Draco and I walked side-by-side as our merged groups left the courtyard behind.
“I hope that satisfied your curiosity, Blaise,” sniped Theo.
“Oh, it definitely did. I love witnessing the Slytherin-Gryffindor dramatics,” said Blaise, not at all affected by Theo’s annoyed tone. “Besides, don’t get your wand in a knot, we had the girls covered.”
“Who can also take care of themselves,” I added for good measure as we reached the staircases and began our trek up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
“It never would’ve come to that,” Draco said almost flippantly. “Blaise said it himself, Weasley’s wand doesn’t even work. The worst he could do was produce more foul-smelling smoke.”
“I don’t know about that. There’s no predicting what a nearly broken wand could do, especially in unskilled hands,” Daphne pointed out, and I nodded in agreement.
We finally reached the classroom and we separated as we each sat at the paired desks on the other side of the Gryffindors. Draco kept close and so we sat together, while Daphne sat at one of the desks behind us.
Soon Parkinson and her posse entered. I practically heard the glare she was giving as she took the seat next to Daphne when Parkinson saw me sitting with Draco. I smirked to myself as I soaked in her frustration - my empathy for her pain only went so far. Draco and I each got out all seven of the required textbooks, and had them piled on our desks.
When all the desks were filled, Professor Lockhart cleared his throat loudly to get everyone’s attention - though he already had most of the class staring at him in admiration. He reached forward, picked up Neville’s copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.
“Me,” he said, pointing at it and winking as well. “Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award, but I don’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!”
He paused as if waiting for something, but the class remained silent. His ego certainly hasn’t dimmed since Diagon Alley. After a slightly awkward silence, he renewed his smile and continued. “I see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books, well done. I thought we’d start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you’ve read them, how much you’ve taken in.”
I was honestly surprised he would quiz on the content of our textbooks on the first day. Not even Professor Snape ever did that to my knowledge, and he was known as the strictest professor in Hogwarts. It appeared this class would be challenging this year after all.
Despite my hope for an improved education over last year, I was internally panicking as Professor Lockhart handed out the test papers - I hadn’t read a single sentence in any of the books yet. Once he was done, he returned to the front of the class. “You have thirty minutes. Start…now!”
I took a deep breath to settle my nerves. Hopefully, it was standard questions I would be able to work through with the knowledge I already had on Defense Against the Dark Arts. I flipped over the packet and felt my eye twitch as I read:
- What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?
- What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?
- What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?
On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:
- When is Gilderoy Lockhart’s birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
This had to be a joke! Gone were my nerves and instead I was fuming. Papa was completely right about Lockhart! He was an egotistical and vainglorious buffoon! These books had to be utter trash if all these questions were answered in them. I had no idea why Dumbledore would hire Lockhart, but hire him he did, so I forced myself to answer every question on this ridiculous quiz - completely guessing on each one.
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class. Not bothering to actually grade them, he seemed to only look for whatever answer that pleased him.
“Tut, tut. Hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully. I clearly state in Chapter Twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples, though I wouldn’t say no to a large bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey!”
What an arrogant idiot! I resisted the urge to snap and took several deep breaths, letting my frustration and anger go as best I could.
“But I see here, Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair care potions. Good girl! Quite excellent, full marks,” Lockhart beamed.
Of course she would know the answers to these stupid questions when she memorized everything she read, no matter how useless it was apparently. I heard several snickers as Lockhart called out for Granger to identify herself for him and she raised a trembling hand.
“Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so, onto business.”
All the snickers instantly stopped. I frowned in displeasure; that was not worth House points you nibbering nonce.
I was distracted from my thoughts by Lockhart lifting a large, covered cage onto his desk at the front of the class. “Now, be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to Magicals! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm.”
I saw several students lean forward in interest while Lockhart spoke. While I could admit Lockhart knew had to draw a crowd like a ringmaster in a circus, I doubted his ability to handle, let alone protect us, from anything dangerous. If anything interesting was in the cage, I’d eat my wand.
Lockhart carefully grabbed the covering. “I must ask you not to scream,” said Lockhart in a low voice. “It might provoke them.” He then dramatically whipped off the covering.
Several snickers and groans of disappointment filled the once silent classroom as we all took in the cage full of electric blue Cornish pixies. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.
“Yes,” he said dramatically. “Freshly caught Cornish pixies.”
Several Gryffindor boys burst out in laughter, which seemed to take the bristles off Lockhart’s broom.
“Yes?” Lockhart asked the nearest laughing boy.
“Well, they’re not…they’re not very…dangerous, are they?” the Gryffindor choked out between his laughter.
“Don’t be so sure!” Lockhart dramatically replied, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. “Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!” He continued in a louder voice. “Right, then, let’s see what you make of them!” And he opened the cage.
It was pure pandemonium as the pixies shot out in every direction like speeding Snitches. I yelped when one smacked into my books, and I ducked down to avoid it. Looking around I couldn’t see Draco anywhere, and could only see Daphne huddled under her own desk behind me while Parkinson was crawling towards the back of the classroom.
Crash!
I flinched at the sound of breaking glass, but thankfully, no glass hit or landed anywhere I could see. I shrieked when my hair was suddenly harshly pulled, rising to my feet as I desperately tried to shoo away the pixie no doubt pulling on my hair.
“Esme, hold still!” I froze on reflex.
Bam!
The painful pressure was gone just as suddenly as it appeared. I turned to Potter as my hands still cradled my tender hair. “Thank you,” I told him sincerely.
He smiled back a bit shyly. “No problem- duck !”
I quickly did so.
Bam!
This time I saw Potter swing, using one of his textbooks to smack away a pixie. He moved away as he kept swinging at any pixie he could reach. Glancing around, I saw the wreckage that was only growing throughout the entire room.
Pixies were spraying ink all over the place, shredding books and papers, tearing the many pictures of Lockhart off the walls, and dumping waste baskets as they flew passed. Half the class was hiding under desks, while the other half were swinging at any nearby pixies with books clutched in their hands.
“Come on now! Round them up, round them up, they’re only pixies,” Lockhart shouted. He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, “Peskipiksi Pesternomi!”
It had absolutely no effect - he was utterly useless! One of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out one of the broken windows. I grabbed one of my books and ducked under my desk as several more pixies zoomed at me.
“ Somebody! Get me down! ”
Looking up I gasped in fear. Some pixies had someone gotten Neville hooked onto the chandelier by his robes! I quickly got out my wand and clutched it firmly in my hand - no way was I letting one of these little pests steal my wand.
I debated what spell to use to get Neville down safely when the decision was taken from my hands by the chandelier giving way.
“ Arresto Momentum ! ” I shouted quickly, praying it worked.
I sighed in relief when both Neville and the chandelier slowed to a stop above the ground before being dropped the last few inches. Neville groaned from the impact, but I knew from experience he was uninjured.
I was forced to hide under my desk again when a few more pixies started throwing bunched up papers at me - reminding me they were still wreaking havoc. The bell rang.
Looking back, I locked eyes with Daphne. We both grabbed all our books spread out on the floor and made a mad dash towards the classroom door, joining in several other Second-Years also making their escape.
“That bloody imbecile!” ranted Theo, as he walked up ahead with Blaise. Daphne and I quickly caught up to them as we hurried down the corridor. We were all in silent agreement to put as much distance between ourselves and that disaster of a classroom as possible.
“He doesn’t live up to his exploits at all,” agreed Daphne, a crestfallen look on her face.
“If he couldn’t handle pixies, how in Hecate’s name did he face werewolves, vampires, and banshees?” I asked as we reached the staircases.
Blaise sneered, “Either foolish luck or he never even did them.”
“Surely someone had to confirm he did the things he claimed for him to receive any of the awards he did?” I asked.
“Someone did,” confirmed Theo. “They had to for the Order of Merlin at least.”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter whether he’s a fraud or not,” interjected Blaise. “Because for the next two terms, Lockhart’s our teacher. And we’ll have to suffer through whatever other mess he drops onto us.”
I never thought I’d feel this way, but I missed Quirrell - at least he never unleashed anything in the classroom. After such a crazy first day, I was more than happy to spend the rest of the evening in the common room playing cards and Wizard’s Chess with everyone until we decided to withdraw to our beds and call it a night.
Madame = Mrs.
Tais-toi = shut up!
Chapter 10: Foul Words
Chapter Text
Esme POV
~Dream~
Dark. Darkness all around me. Almost nothing could be seen through the blackness, with no way to discern where I was; a room, a corridor, even outside, I couldn't tell. Shutting my eyes made little difference, yet it awoke my other senses. The air felt cold and damp, and in the distance I heard the drip drop of water. I shivered, both from the cold but also from fear. Something was out there.
I saw a shimmer through the dark. A creature stood before me, but nothing revealed what kind; I only knew that whatever it was, was gigantic. I was completely frozen, fear keeping me in place as I knew it was pointless to run. A deep hiss rumbled from the creature before me, drawing my eyes up, and up. There was a flash of fangs before the creature lunged; I screamed.
~End of Dream~
I gasped awake, my heart racing as I did my best to catch my breath. I felt a sinking feeling in my chest - was it happening all over again? Sweet Circe I hoped not, I didn't want another school year of a reoccurring nightmare. I took some calming breaths. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, it could simply be a normal bad dream. What proof did I have anyway; nothing, because I couldn't remember a single thing I had dreamed about.
"Esme?" Daphne called out softly. "You okay?"
I rolled over and moved aside the bed curtains to find Daphne rubbing her eyes as she stood by my bed.
"Oui, I'm okay." I reassured her.
Daphne was not convinced. "Move over."
I scooted over without argument and she climbed in next to me, shutting the bed curtain behind her.
"Did you have another nightmare?" she asked.
"I don't know. I can't remember what I dreamed about, but I woke up feeling scared…"
After a pause, she tentatively asked, "Does it feel like the persistent nightmare from last year?"
"Maybe…I don't know…" I trailed off. "But I have this terrible feeling that this won't be a quiet year after all."
"If I've learned anything from stories, it's never a quiet year at Hogwarts."
We cuddled close, lightly dozing as the sun slowly came up. We stayed in my bed, even as we heard the other girls get up and start getting ready for the day.
"At least today is Saturday, so it's not like the early wake up call will affect our performance in class," said Daphne after a bit.
"True, but we do have to get up for breakfast." I felt my stomach rumble, which got a giggle out of Daphne.
Together we climbed out of my bed and got our things together. Parkinson and the other girls had already left, so Daphne and I had the washroom to ourselves. We quickly got ready for the day and made our way out of the common room and up to the great hall.
I still felt tired from my unpleasant early wake up, and Daphne had to feel the same as she easily matched my slower pace. I was glad this hadn't happened during a weekday, as today I could enjoy a day of leisure activities until I could fall into hopefully dreamless sleep and be fresh-eyed before classes resumed. My usual cup of tea at breakfast did help at least, filling me with a pleasant warmth and chasing away the tired energy swirling around in my head.
We were chatting about the latest issue of Witch Weekly, specifically their latest ridiculous quiz about which famous wizard you are most compatible with: the Weird Sisters' lead singer Myron Wagtail, the famous part-vampire singer Blodwyn Bludd, the national Irish Quidditch team captain Darren O'Hare, Harry Potter (ew), or Gilderoy Lockhart (ewer). The fact that Potter and Lockhart were in the article was both disturbing and hilarious. Daphne and I both took the quiz and giggled over our results - thankfully neither of us ended up with Lockhart or Potter.
Ever since that horrible first class, Daphne had lost her admiration for Lockhart and joined me and the boys in coming up with new and witty insults about him. Lockhart hadn't improved at all and continued to be a show-boating mess of a wizard. Ever so slowly, more and more students were losing their high regard and respect for him. Unfortunately, some, like Parkinson and her friends, were of the mind that he was still a great wizard, but more importantly he was undeniably very handsome (gross).
Our laughter tampered off as Blaise and Theo entered the hall with a beaming Draco being shadowed by Crabbe and Goyle. The boys all quickly found places in the Second-Year section.
"Guess what?" asked Draco, then without waiting a second he continued. "As a reward for making the Slytherin Quidditch team as their new Seeker, Father has donated seven of the latest racing brooms!"
"C'est magnifique! Très bien, Draco!" I congratulated him. We'd known he was the new Seeker shortly after try outs from Draco's excitement then. It was a great accomplishment, as Draco was the only Lower-Year to try out for the position.
"What even is the newest broom model?" asked Daphne.
Theo answered as he filled his plate with food, "The latest is from the Nimbus series, the 2001."
"You would've been able to use one if you'd listened to me and tried out too, Theo," commented Blaise. "You're a much better Chaser than Cassius Warrington. And he's sure to be distracted this year with taking his O.W.L.s too."
"I've told you before, mate," Theo replied after swallowing some juice. "I'd rather watch than play. And I quite like having free time to myself. Besides, I could always borrow Draco's broom to take it for a spin."
"If it means getting you out of the library, you can borrow it anytime I don't need it for practice," snarked Draco.
"I'm not always in the library."
"Really?" Draco asked in a disbelieving voice. "What are your plans for today then?"
Theo didn't reply as his eyes shifted away. Daphne smirked and replied for him, "Theo and I have plans to study in the library."
Draco flicked his hands at Theo, a smug smile stretching across his face. I giggled as Theo pretended not to be pouting.
Draco then shifted his attention to me. "Are you also studying today, Esme?"
"You're more than welcome to join us," offered Daphne in my direction as she reached to refill her drink. "We're working on our Transfiguration and Charms essays."
After pondering for a moment, I answered, "Honestly, I don't really feel up to studying today."
"You should come watch me and the team practice then," Draco said. "Professor Snape got us the Quidditch pitch this morning."
Thinking it over, I found myself actually tempted to accept. It would be good of me to continue making an effort with Draco and it may even help get my mind off of my worries from this morning. Additionally, Parkinson looked like she sucked on a lemon from Draco personally (and only) inviting me. "Alright, as long as the rest of the team doesn't mind me being there."
Draco perked up when I accepted, while Blaise snorted in amusement. I turned to my right to face him. "Hein?"
"Flint won't mind you being there at all," replied Blaise with an impish smirk, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge he held and I didn't.
I waited for Blaise to elaborate, but he remained silent and went back to his breakfast. He knew something, probably something 'a little birdy' told him, but not something important enough for him to share it.
The conversation moved along after that as we all finished up eating our breakfast. Afterwards, we all scattered to go about our days. I went back to the common room to grab my bag, as I wanted my sketchbook and quills at the very least in case I grew bored. Draco went with me as he needed to change and grab his Quidditch gear. I waited for him and then we left together to wait for the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team in the entrance hall.
Before too long, Flint turned around the corridor corner with three other boys I recognized as most of his fellow Fifth-Year boys, but I didn't know their names.
"Esme, great to see you!" greeted Flint as he came to a stop in front of me.
"Bonjour, Heir Flint," I greeted politely in return. "I hope it's alright if I watch the team's practice today."
Flint smiled wide. "As long as you don't share anything with your brothers, I don't mind at all."
One of the boys standing with Flint cleared his throat politely. Flint glanced at him and then blinked in realization. "Right! Mates, this is Esme Archard. Esme, this is Cassius Warrington, Lucian Bole, and Peregrine Derrick - but call him Perry."
"Pleasure to meet you," I said while nodding to each boy with a small smile. The boys each nodded in return.
"So this is the little Lady you told me about," commented Cassius as he gave me a small bow with a smirk stretching across his face. I had to force my smile to remain in place as I felt uneasy. I had honestly forgotten my interaction with Flint at the Winter Ball last year until now - and recalled Alaric's anger at Flint for dancing with me and Oliver's warning to keep my distance. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all.
Before the thought of trying to find an excuse to leave could enter my mind, Adrian and another boy dressed in green and silver Quidditch robes joined us. Flint quickly introduced us and I learned the last nameless boy was Miles Bletchley.
Flint then held out his arm to me. "As captain, I'll be happy to escort you to the Quidditch pitch."
"Hang on," interrupted Draco. "I invited her, so if anyone is escorting her, it'd be me."
"Can't swing your weight on this Draco," taunted Flint.
Draco's face dusted with red and I understood why. Despite being from an Ancient and Noble House compared to Flint just being from a Noble House, Draco and Flint were both heirs and therefore on the same standing. However, Flint was older and technically ranked higher than Draco in this setting as the captain, so unless Draco wanted to attempt to duel a Fifth-Year, arguing further wouldn't do anything.
I quickly stepped forward to diffuse the situation as I worried Draco would foolishly continue to argue anyways. "Please, we're at school; there's no need for such stuffy practices. Let's just all walk together."
"Fine, whatever you say," agreed Flint and thus the subject was dropped. "Time to go boys - and lady."
Together we all headed out of the castle, though I still ended up wedged between Draco and Flint. The entire way down to the pitch was taken in mostly awkward silence - only Adrian and Miles dared to speak and kept up a slow string of chatter.
I was surprised when we got to the pitch to see it wasn't empty like I thought it would be. A new source of uneasiness sprung inside my chest as we approached the cluster of red and gold robes.
"What are you doing here, Flint?" Oliver angrily called out while landing, with Alaric and the rest of the team not far behind him.
When I saw the burning fury in Alaric's eyes (directly solely on Flint), I hung back and vanished from sight behind the line the Fifth-Year boys formed as they funneled around Flint. Draco had been pushed back as well.
"Quidditch practice," replied Flint in a mocking tone of voice.
Oh dear, this wouldn't be good.
"This is our practice time! I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today, so you can clear off now!" Oliver sounded even angrier than before.
"Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."
"That doesn't matter," I heard a female voice snap. She had to be one of the Gryffindor players, as the Slytherin team didn't have any girls on it right now.
"Katie is right. Oliver reserved the whole pitch, so you all don't have any right to be here," called out Alaric, before adding with a voice that commanded authority, "Those are the rules."
"Easy, Archard. I've got a note," Flint replied, sounding not at all bothered by the Gryffindors no doubt hissing in his face.
I then realized what was happening: Draco had said earlier that Professor Snape got them the pitch this morning - meaning Professor Snape arranged for the team to butt in on the Gryffindors, or worse, steal the whole pitch from them. I didn't like any of this one bit, but there wasn't anything I could do, so I remained silent, feeling guilty for even being here.
There was some rustling before Alaric's voice read out, "I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch pitch owing to the need to train their new Seeker."
"You've got a new Seeker?" asked Wood, distracted. "Where?"
The boys seemed to take this as some sort of cue and parted, thus revealing Draco and I to the gathered Gryffindors. My eyes locked onto Alaric's who was clearly surprised to see me there, before a stormy look overcame his entire face.
"Aren't you Lord Lucius Malfoy's son?"
I glanced away from Alaric when Flint replied in Draco's stead, uneasily looking at the wide and self-satisfied smirk which showed off Flint's crooked teeth. "Funny you should mention Draco's father. Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."
Around me the boys each held out their new broomsticks, the polished black wood shining in the early morning light.
"The very latest model. Only came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand model by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps, sweeps the board with them," said Flint in a careless tone of voice, while smugness radiated off him.
I glanced at the Gryffindor's various brooms and saw that besides Alaric, Oliver, and Potter, the others' brooms were nowhere near as nice or new-looking. I tried to meet Alaric's eyes again in an attempt to portray how sorry I am that this was happening, but he was completely focused on Flint - like most of the other Gryffindors were. They had all remained silent, either seething in anger or because there was nothing they could think of to say in response.
"Oh look~, a field invasion," Flint cooed sarcastically. I followed his eyes and saw Granger and Weasley were scurrying over.
"What's happening? Why aren't you playing?" asked Weasley, either completely oblivious to the current mood or simply completely ignoring it. "And what's he doing here?" He asked as his eyes cut to Draco.
"Going blind now, Weasley?" snarked Draco, before answering smugly, "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."
Weasley gaped, mouth so wide opened a billywig could fly right in.
Draco continued, "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."
The boys around me snickered and laughed at Draco's quip. My uneasiness over the growing confrontation aside, it was rather witty and comparatively wasn't the most insulting thing Draco could've said. Still, I was careful not to laugh knowing Alaric would notice if I did.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Granger commented sharply. "They got in on pure talent."
I frowned at Granger's implication that Lord Malfoy bought Draco's spot on the team when Draco had fully earned it - even beating out several Upper-Years for the position. Besides, everyone knew how competitive the Quidditch teams were - there was zero possibility of any of them risking their chances of winning for a bribe of new brooms.
I could tell Draco agreed as I saw his smirk flicker on his face. His eyes hardened into slits in anger. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.
I froze as my eyes widened in shock. What was he thinking using such a vulgar word!
Everyone flew into an uproar: "Why you little brat!" - "How dare you!" - "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!".
I only glimpsed at Weasley whipping out his wand before I was suddenly shoved backwards. I yelped in fear I was about to hit the ground, but thankfully Adrian caught me.
"Esme!" I heard Alaric calling out in worry.
Flint shielded Draco with his large bulk - no doubt from whatever horror Weasley was about to unleash by idiotically using his nearly snapped wand. The sudden loud bang that echoed around the pitch proved me right. Everyone froze in deathly silence.
Oh sweet Circe, what did Weasley do?
Adrian was still holding me against him, but slowly straightened and let me go as we heard Granger suddenly shout, "Ron! Ron! Are you alright?"
I cautiously moved around the bodies to find Weasley sprawled in the grass a bit of distance from where he previously had been. Weasley got up on his hands, opening his mouth to reply. However, instead of words coming out of it, he gave a disgustingly large belch as several slugs dribbled out of his mouth and into his lap.
I gagged at the sight and turned away as I clutched my hands to my own mouth. The silence then broke as Flint and the rest of the Slytherin team broke into roaring laughter. Flint was practically hanging off his broomstick for support, while Draco clutched his stomach as tears gathered in his eyes, he was laughing so hard. I still felt incredibly nauseous and the disgusting sounds of Weasley continually belching up more slugs was not helping me one bit.
Glancing off to the side, I saw Potter and Granger rushing Weasley away - most likely to the hospital wing so Madame Pomfrey could cure Weasley of whatever spell had rebounded on him. While those three fled from the situation, the rest of us were left to deal with the fallout. Many of the pale and green faces of the Gryffindors shifted to an angry red once again as they regrouped themselves to face the Slytherin team.
"Don't give us that look, Weasleys," snapped Flint. "Your brother cursed himself. Not our fault he was daft enough to use a broken wand."
"Your ickle-Seeker was still the one to use that foul word!" one of the Weasley twins roared back.
"Oh~ what? Are you gonna fight us now like a Muggle?" taunted Lucian as he and Perry puffed up themselves behind Flint.
Alaric's hand landed on the shoulder of the Weasley twin who had spoken. "There will be none of that." He then stepped forward, placing himself in front of the other Gryffindors as he stared down Flint and the other Upper-Year Slytherins. "The pitch is all yours."
Some of the Gryffindors started to argue but were cut off by Oliver. "Alaric's right. There's no point practicing without the entire team here anymore."
Together Alaric and Oliver ushered away the still fuming Gryffindors, though Alaric hung back as he called out. "Allez, petite soeur."
Listening to my brother, I squeezed my way through my fellow Slytherins. "I'll see you later then, Draco," I said softly as I passed him, before hurrying to where Alaric waited with an expectant look.
As I finally caught up, Alaric wrapped his arm around me and I moved closer to him as we left the pitch.
"Are you alright?" asked Alaric, voice so soft it would've been lost in the wind if I hadn't been so close to him.
"Still uneasy from the disgusting sight of the slugs," I admitted. "But other than that I'm fine, grand frère."
Alaric was silent for a couple steps before he spoke again, his tone unusually hard. "I want you to do your best and stay away from Flint, Esme. He might seem nice and easygoing, but he knows how to stir the cauldron with an innocent face. I don't want you mixed up in the trouble he causes for his own enjoyment."
"I understand, and I will do my best," I promised Alaric. It wasn't as if I spent much time around the Fifth-Year anyways; I'd only been today because of Draco.
Still…Alaric was right. Things went from bad to worse rather quickly, and I especially didn't like how satisfied Draco looked using such a horrid word. I didn't like the term Mudblood one bit. No one, not even Granger at her most annoying, deserved to be called that. Hopefully Draco wouldn't make a habit of using such an impolite word, but something told me this wouldn't be the last time he did so.
Oui - yes
C'est Magnifique = how magnificent
Très bien = very good
Hein = what?
Bonjour = hello
Madame = Mrs.
Allez = come along
Petite soeur = little sister
Grand frère = big brother
Extra POV
Alaric POV
We all regrouped in the dressing room after the confrontation with the Slytherin Quidditch team. Not much else was said besides Oliver informing the team when to expect our next training day. Having said all I wanted to to Esme, I sent her back to the castle with Fred and George to meet up with Blaire.
I didn't want her going back to the Slytherin common room any time soon - I think Esme was more shaken by what happened than she was either aware of or was willing to admit. Either way, Blaire would sort her out, and I trusted the twins to revert back to their fun-loving selves soon enough to help lighten things - those two never did seem to stay negative for too long.
With my sister taken care of, I could now focus on Ollie, who lingered in the dressing room. He was over-meticulously cleaning the chalkboard of everything that had been written on it during the team meeting.
I leaned against one of the wooden pillars and crossed my arms as I regarded my best friend. The only noise was the sounds of his aggressive erasing. Since Oliver refused to speak, I went first. "Well~, this morning certainly turned into a steaming pile of dragon dung."
I waited expectantly for a response of any kind but was met with only silence. Giving him a few more moments to gather his thoughts, I continued to wait in patient silence. However, Oliver continued to stubbornly hold his silence. A sigh escaped my lips. "Blessed Magic. Ollie, I'm not a Legilimens. Talk to me."
He finally stopped erasing the clean chalkboard and sat down on one of the nearby benches. "Am I already failing again as captain?"
"Hein? Non, Ollie, non. You're a great captain! Where's this coming from?"
"I couldn't lead us to victory once again last year, and I can't help but feel today was an omen for the rest of the season."
"You know you're not to blame for anything that happened right? Malfoy proved himself a brat and Weasley proved himself rashly incompetent. Neither what those two boys did had anything to do with you."
"It's not just what happened!" he suddenly shouted before hissing out a breath of frustration. "Yes, I'm angry that Flint found a way to nick the pitch from us when I put the effort in to reserve it, but such underhanded tactics are practically normal when it comes to Flint. It was so him to lord over us the teams' new brooms. Ha! Like the latest brooms is what makes a good Quidditch player." Oliver tossed the eraser away from him.
I watched it bounce across the floor before standing up and settling myself down next to him on the bench. "Then what's bothering you?"
He ran his hands over his short hair, nothing becoming mussed from the action. "I'm not blind. I saw how everyone was this morning. No one cared or really tried to pay attention to everything I spent the summer break working on. The team doesn't take me seriously, they never have, because they don't believe I can do this, can bring in victory for Gryffindor."
"It's true."
"What?!" Oliver startled as he jerked his head to me as quick as a flash. "You're not supposed to agree with me!"
I smirked as I chuckled. "You didn't let me finish, mate." Smiling gentler, I continued. "Most of what you said was completely and entirely incorrect. Your eyes are just fine, but what you saw this morning was a bunch of tired teenagers struggling to function so early in the morning. No more, no less. We're all excited for Quidditch this year, and we have plenty of time for other practices to spell out the dust from the summer break."
I looked away from Ollie to frown at the far wall. "It's true that the team doesn't appreciate your hard work and enthusiasm for Quidditch. However, that by no means equates to the team not taking you seriously. The twins may joke around, but you are still our captain for a reason." Lifting up my hand I poked his forehead. "This brilliant mind of yours is able to form actual strategies besides 'win the match'." Dropping my hand, I slapped it against his back. "You'll get this team to become even better, and I just know you'll lead us to victory. Just, maybe don't expect hyper-focus at the crack of dawn, okay?"
I felt Ollie's arm snake around my waist and I naturally returned his side-hug. "Thanks 'Laric."
"Don't thank me for the truth, I'm always happy to share it."
Ollie pulled away as he stood up suddenly. "Well, if we can't practice as a team, let's go find Brian and pull him away from whatever dusty book he's reading so the three of us can toss a Quaffle around."
I smiled up at him and accepted the hand he reached out to pull me up. "Sounds good to me."
Hein = what?
Non = no
Chapter 11: Samhain Strikes Again
Chapter Text
Esme POV
~Dream~
Dark. Darkness all around me. Almost nothing could be seen through the blackness, with no way to discern where I was; a room, a corridor, even outside, I couldn’t tell. Shutting my eyes made little difference, yet it awoke my other senses. The air felt cold and damp, and in the distance I heard the drip drop of water. I shivered, both from the cold and also from fear. Something was out there.
A girl’s voice called out to me:
Do not fear the darkened pit, but only that which wanders it.
Hearing a noise behind me, my eyes snapped open and I turned, startled. Still I could not make anything out in the darkness. The same noise rang from my left. I shifted as my eyes frantically searched, yet I saw nothing, not even a hint of movement. Again I heard a noise. As my heart beat loudly in my chest, I turned toward it.
The voice rang out once more:
Only its master it will obey, never to hesitate or betray.
I saw a shimmer through the dark. A creature stood before me, but nothing revealed what kind; I only knew that whatever it was, was gigantic. I was completely frozen, fear keeping me in place as I knew it was pointless to run. A deep hiss rumbled from the creature before me, drawing my eyes up, and up.
Suddenly the voice shouted:
Shut your eyes, shut them tight, for the gaze is as deadly as the bite!
But it was too late. There was a flash of fangs before the creature lunged; I screamed.
~End of Dream~
I startled awake, holding in the scream that nearly escaped my throat. I was left gasping for breath as I struggled to keep quiet to not awaken Daphne or the other girls. Shivering from a lingering chill, I turned over to my side and burrowed into my blankets and pillow. This was the third time this dream had happened, confirming my fears - another nightmare was plaguing me. What it was about, I didn’t know yet. But just like last year, every time the nightmare occurred, I remembered more and more details.
While I knew the Philosopher’s Stone was gone from Hogwarts, something else lurked in the dark through these stone walls. Unlike last year, Dumbledore had no ominous warnings, so I had no starting point to even try to figure out what was causing this to happen to me once again. As much as I hated it, I would have to wait. Part of me hoped that perhaps if I left things alone, nothing would come of it; the term had been normal thus far after all. Well, as normal as it could be in a magical castle full of students learning how to harness their magic.
Ever since October arrived, a damp chill had entered the air and spread itself throughout the castle. With it came a rush of colds and other minor illnesses. Most everyone had gotten sick at some point. Parkinson was the first in our dormitory to get sick, but the rest of us were not far behind her.
Thankfully, Madame Pomfrey had been able to keep up and had plenty of Pepperup Potions available. The aftereffect was oddly ticklish, but I’d take smoking coming out of my ears for a few hours over feeling sick any day. Of course that didn’t mean people (Parkinson and Bulstrode) didn’t incessantly whine the entire time their ears were steaming.
With the chill also came the rain. It had been particularly rainy so far this month, forcing students indoors to avoid being soaked, though some still braved the wet and mud for the shortcut across the courtyard. Some of us were forced outdoors in order to get to the greenhouses for Herbology class, while the few on the Quidditch teams often had to practice through the rain and fog. Gryffindor and Slytherin were currently the most active teams as they prepared for the first Quidditch match of the season in two weeks.
Once I was finally calm, I decided to get ready for the day as I wanted to erase any signs of distress or tiredness - it was Samhain today after all!
A nice hot shower chased away the chill, though I was careful to change quickly to avoid the pleasant warmth from being sucked away by the carpeted stone floor. I was part-way through drying my hair with my hand like Blaire taught me when Daphne ambled her way into the washroom.
“Happy Samhain!” cheered Daphne when she saw me.
“Happy Samhain,” I replied without looking away from the mirror as I focused on maintaining the spell. Blaire had warned me it would take practice to be able to dry my hair evenly and quickly, but my fear of accidentally doing it wrong left me going extra slow to ensure my hair was dried thoroughly.
By the time I was finished and pinned my hair back with my silver butterfly pins, Daphne was all ready to head to breakfast, so I quickly brushed my teeth and finished getting ready. I then grabbed my robe and hurried after Daphne as we left our dormitory just as Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Davis were waking up.
Today was the day the common room password was set to change, so Daphne and I made sure to check the bulletin board before leaving through the entranceway. I didn’t know who chose the passwords, but they truly had a flair for picking the most random of things. Sometimes the password was related to Slytherin House or Salazar Slytherin, other times it was the most random and benign thing. For example: for the next two weeks the password was Gooseberries. Simple enough to remember, and thankfully not a very ridiculous thing to say.
With the damp chill being especially bad in the dungeons of Hogwarts, most Slytherins naturally walked faster than normal to get to the staircases. Daphne and I both sighed in relief as we felt the air grow warmer as we ascended the stairs. Many other students were already awake and bustling about, so we joined the procession entering the great hall.
I was enjoying my usual cup of tea when Daphne took a glass vial of purple liquid out of her robe pocket and set it down in front of my plate of eggs and toast.
“What’s that?” I asked as I set down my teacup.
“It’s a vial of Sleeping Draught I got from Professor Snape. It’s to help you sleep at night.”
I blinked in surprise, before looking over at Daphne with a silent question.
She shrugged her shoulders as she delicately cut into her own eggs, not looking back at me. “You hide it well, but I can still tell when you’re tired. After you nearly woke up screaming for the second time, I went to Professor Snape to get the potion. I heard from some of the Upper-Years that he on occasion brews potions for Slytherins if they ask.”
“Daphne…” I trailed off, unsure what I wanted to say.
“I’d actually asked him for a Dreamless Sleep Potion, but when he heard it was so you could avoid having nightmares, he brewed this instead. He instructed you to take one sip right before bed and you’ll instantly fall into a peaceful and dreamless sleep - though he warned that any more than a sip and you’ll sleep the day away.”
I picked up the vial and carefully tucked it away into my robe. “Thank you, Daphne,” I finally managed to say in a quiet but grateful voice. The pleasant warmth of affection bloomed in my chest for Daphne, not only did she go out of her way to help me, she ensured she gave it to me when we were away from Parkinson and her posse - I’d rather avoid any snide comments from Parkinson about my nightmares.
“You’re welcome, ma amie. ”
The rest of the Second-Years soon joined us, and before long the owls arrived with the morning mail. I smiled brightly when Flèche zoomed by and dropped a letter into my waiting hands. The twins had finally responded to my last letter!
Breaking open the envelope, I happily read their horrible handwriting:
Dear Big Sister,
Janette says hello and that she misses you. She hasn’t been doing too well lately with the cold weather. It’s not been anything serious, just a bunch of colds have kept her in bed for a week now. She has Zimpsy looking after her, so she’s been in excellent hands.
Dad has been busy lately with Ministry work. We only ever see him at evening meals, though there’s always strict instructions for our days given to us by Paddy from him at breakfast. He has at least lifted the ban on any of us leaving Heaven’s Garden. Not that we have a lot of places to go, but it’s still nice to have the option.
Mom did take most of us with her on Mabon to celebrate the Fall Equinox with some other High Society families. It was a lot of fun! We saw Astoria and Armin there, and spent the entire afternoon running around with them. They had a corn maze! It was so fun even though we got lost with Astoria. But Armin found us quick enough! He led the way to the exit before Astoria got too scared. Dad arrived later for the huge feast. There was so much food and we happily stuffed our faces, well at least as much as we could while ‘behaving’.
Hope you enjoy your Samhain at Hogwarts! Mom should be sending along some of Honny’s treats soon!
Your favorite twins,
Fain and Gérard
I carefully folded and tucked away their letter into my robe pocket. Turning to Daphne I commented, “Looks like my younger brothers enjoyed Mabon with their friends, among them was Astoria.”
Daphne looked up from her own letter with a fond smile. “Astoria wrote to me about the same thing. She said Fain and Gérard made her laugh despite being nervous when they got lost in a corn maze together.”
I giggled while feeling proud of my brothers. “That sounds like them.”
Conversation tampered off into light chatter as we each enjoyed our breakfast. Before we knew it, it was time to leave if we hoped to get to our classes on time. The four of us gathered our things and left for class together. As we were waiting for the staircase we needed to move into place, Blaise suddenly spoke up.
“Before I forget to mention, a little birdy told me that some of the ghosts are getting together this evening in the dungeons for a deathday party, so we should take the long way to and from to the common room for the rest of the day to avoid the sight, smell, and noise of it, or worse, being maneuvered into attending it.”
“Is that why there were all those unlit thin black tapers lined up along that one corridor?” asked Daphne.
“There were? I hadn’t noticed,” I idly commented.
“I was probably blocking them since they were on my side of the corridor,” she answered.
“Anyways, yes that’s why,” Blaise said, bringing the conversation back to his original point. “These parties are foul for the living, rotten food, rotten music, and depressing company. Trust me, you’ll want to stay as far as you can from it.”
“We believe you, mate,” assured Theo at Blaise’s insistent tone.
The few classes we had that day passed quickly as everyone, including most of the professors, were eagerly anticipating the Samhain feast this evening. As soon as the clock chimed seven times, we all packed ourselves into the glittering hall.
My friends and I were squeezing our way into the great hall through the throng of students when I accidentally bumped into someone. I instantly went to give my apologies, but the words died in my throat when a sharp shiver went down my spine. I was confused at the sudden foreboding feeling, especially when I realized the source appeared to be none other than Ginny Weasley. I quickly pasted a smile on my face for the red-faced First-Year. Ginny shyly returned my smile before she scurried away to catch up with the other Gryffindor First-Years.
That feeling could only be left over from the nightmare I had last night, as there was no possibility that sweet yet spunky Ginny could cause such a thing, I thought to myself. I shook the feeling from my mind and focused on enjoying myself at the feast, deeming my worries and concerns as inconsequential. This evening was a time for celebration of the harvest and remembrance of our long-passed ancestors. There was no room for strange feelings or nightmares tonight.
Between the golden plates, shining golden candles, and carved giant pumpkins, the great hall was set aglow. Charmed bats swarmed lazily across the spelled night sky of the ceiling while a troupe of skeletons danced to a lighthearted and rhythmic rendition of Danse Macabre, written by the Magical composer Camille Saint-Saëns.
With most (if not all) of the Hogwarts ghosts attending the deathday party, the feast was oddly tame as the usual ghostly shenanigans were absent. Many Slytherins expressed their happiness that the Bloody Baron was absent from lingering around the table - he made even the Seventh-Years uncomfortable, despite their spending six full years around him.
Everyone became abuzz with cheer when our prefects, Garrett and Cara, announced the beginning of the remembrance ceremony - the troll incident last year had interrupted the feast last year before we could start. Amongst the noise of the rest of the great hall, we all recited together as best we could:
“On this night of Samhain, we celebrate the cycle of life and death. Tonight we speak to those through the Veil as the lines between worlds are blurred. We remember our ancestors, those dead and long past who watch over us. You are not forgotten and forever live on within us. We remember you.”
Once the prayer was said, things became less formal as between bites of food we each took turns sharing some sort of story about the ancestor we had chosen to honor this year to those around us. Draco went first and honored his ancestor Armand Malfoy, who was the one to bring the Malfoy family from France to England. Blaise honored his ancestor Ricardo Zabini, a famous wandless duelist known for channeling red flames with his hands, while Theo honored his ancestor Talbot Nott, who was a brilliant metal craftsman known for creating jewelry Magicals could channel magic through.
Since Papa had told us not too long ago that Perenelle Flamel had passed on, I decided to honor her this Samhain. It felt right to do so after the mess last year involving the Philosopher's Stone. While some were surprised to learn Perenelle was an Archard before her marriage to the famous alchemist, most were shocked to learn Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel had died after all this time.
Parkinson didn’t let the news linger in the air too long before she jumped in and haughtily honored her ancestor Perseus Parkinson, who was the British Minister of Magic from 1726 to 1733. Bulstrode shortly followed by honoring her ancestor Violetta Bulstrode, who was Draco’s own great-great-grandmother through her marriage to Cygnus Black II.
Both Crabbe and Goyle honored their grandfathers, Vincent Crabbe I and Barnaby Goyle, though didn’t have much to say about either wizard. Tracey had to stop herself multiple times from rambling about her own grandfather, Archibald Davis, who had died of old age since last Samhain. Daphne finished for us by honoring her uncle, Gareth Greengrass, who had also died since last Samhain, stating he was Senior Unspeakable in the Department of Mysterious who embodied the values of a true Ravenclaw.
Throughout the decadent feast, the skeleton dance troupe continued to dance to changing music - a delightful mixture of traditional Samhain music and humorously quirky dance skits. Professor Flitwick even directed the school choir through a playfully spooky song.
Before we all knew it the feast was over, with the remnants of dessert disappearing as quickly as it all appeared. Dumbledore decreed the end of the feast, with a final well-wish and good night, though he annoyingly used the Muggle term for Samhain instead of its proper name. None of the Upper-Years appeared surprised by it, but that didn’t stop the small swirl of anger and disappointment in my chest before I consciously pushed it aside - I refused to let Dumbledore ruin this sacred sabbat for me.
My friends and I joined the throng of students filtering out of the great hall into the dimly lit corridors of the castle. Everyone’s loud chatter seemed to echo off the stone walls despite the many tapestries and portraits hung up, which was why a sudden absence of the noise was so startling. The few groups of students in front of us had completely frozen.
Following where they stared, my own eyes widened in shock. There, hanging from one of the torch brackets was Mrs. Norris hanging by her tail, unnaturally still with her eyes wide and staring at nothing.
“Is that…blood?” asked Daphne from beside me, her voice so quiet I almost hadn’t heard her.
I glanced at her in confusion, but when I looked back I saw what I had missed before. I felt my own blood pounding in my ears as terror filled my veins with ice. Behind the grisly sight of Mrs. Norris, daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering red in the light cast by the flaming torch, were the words:
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
“Please Magic no.”
Draco suddenly shouted through the absolute silence of the corridor. “Enemies of the Heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!”
I latched onto Daphne’s hand beside me, her own hand gripping mine back just as tightly. Her very presence stopped the terror from building any more than it already had, but it was still taking everything I had to force myself to keep breathing slowly instead of the frantic huffs the terror kept trying to incite.
“What’s going on here? What’s going on?” Attracted no doubt by Malfoy’s shout, Monsieur Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd of students pressed together to look at the sight before them. “My cat! My cat! What’s happened to Mrs. Norris?” he shrieked as he clutched at his face. His whole body then unfurled as he stalked further to the unconscious circle we all formed. “You! You’ve murdered my cat!” he screeched.
It was only then that I finally realized that Potter, Granger, and Weasley stood separated from the rest of us - they’d been here before us all.
Monsieur Filch clutched at Potter’s robes as he continued to shout, “You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll-”
“Argus!”
Dumbledore, followed by a number of other professors, had pushed their way through the students. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall quickly swept forward and detached Monsieur Filch from Potter.
In a forcibly calm voice, Dumbledore ordered, “Come with me, Argus. You too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger.”
Lockhart then eagerly stepped forward. “My office is nearest, Headmaster, just upstairs. Please feel free-”
“Thank you, Gilderoy,” interrupted Dumbledore.
Professor Snape stepped forward and faced the rest of us, his ever present stern glare hardening even further. “Return to your common rooms. Now!”
The various prefects took this as their cue and quickly started shepherding us all away from this section of the corridor. I briefly made eye contact with Blaire, who had Alaric stiffly standing at her back, as she guided a group of scared looking First-Years away - her nod of assurance didn’t necessarily calm me, but it reminded me to get my emotions under control. The last thing I wanted or needed in this moment was for my hair to start sparking - that would be so embarrassing.
Daphne and I kept our hands clasped together as we joined the swarm of Slytherins following behind Cara. Slowly, as we put distance between us and the corridor, students began gossiping about what we had all just witnessed. Wild theories began to form, but I pushed them from my mind.
While I was still terrified of what this could mean combined with the possibility of another recurring nightmare, logical thought was returning to my head. I had no idea what this Chamber of Secrets was, and while it was very suspicious for that specific trio of Gryffindors to found at such a grisly scene, I doubted Potter or Granger could actually hurt Mrs. Norris or stand by and let Weasley hurt her, even in a fit of anger. Draco seemed to have some knowledge of what the message meant based on his comment. So my first course of action would be to ask Draco what he meant - though I refused to utter that distasteful word Draco had used once again.
Finally, we moved through the entrance to the common room. Some Upper-Years took charge of ushering the First-Years to their dormitories, while the rest of us lingered around the room - who could sleep after what just happened anyway?
“Are all the First-Years in their dormitory?” Garrett’s voice rang over the quiet murmuring of everyone else as he was the last to enter through the entranceway.
“Yeah, Tsu Ling and Graham made sure of it,” replied Cara.
“Good. Now the rest of you, either off to bed or stay and we’ll explain what we know as best we can.”
Murmuring broke out and soon everyone began moving - either settling onto the sofas and chairs in the room surrounding where Cara and Garrett stood with some of the Seventh-Years or walking to the dormitories’ corridor. Sharing a silent look with my friends, we all agreed - we were staying for this. The four of us managed to claim an entire sofa to ourselves and settled down; Daphne and I were still sticking close to each other.
Cara appeared to gather herself as she took a deep breath before beginning. “Alright, so the story of the Chamber of Secrets is a tangle of facts, biased assumptions, and fanciful story-telling. You’ll find the bare facts in Hogwarts: A History , but even that still has its bias of not including more explanation of Salazar Slytherin’s position, since it was written without his contribution.”
Flint spoke up from where he sat with his Yearmates, “We’re all aware of the bias against our House, Buttermere. Just get on with it.”
I noticed Cara’s eyebrow twitch and couldn't help but internally snicker over her attempt to reign in her temper at Flint’s commanding impatience. Garrett placed a hand on Cara’s shoulder before stepping forward, likely to take over so Cara could simmer down discreetly.
“First a little background information for those of you who don’t know the history of the school. So Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Godric Gryffindor. They built Hogwarts to be both a school for young Magicals, but also as a place of protection, far from the grasp of Muggles and their ignorant fear of Mother Magic’s gifts to the world.”
Garrett wetted his lips before continuing. “Now this was all well and good until a rift formed between Salazar Slytherin and the other three founders. Slytherin wanted Magical learning to be kept in Magical families, ones either with little or free of Muggle influence or exposure. He found children with Muggle parents to be untrustworthy and harmful to our way of life. The other founders, however, did not see the danger or considered the risk minute, and so would not change their stance. With no other choice, Salazar Slytherin left the school.”
“Alright, so what’s all that got to do with this Chamber of Secrets?” asked Lucian, who looked strangely pale and uncomfortable.
Cara took a step forward to answer with Garrett stepping back to lean against the black marble of the nearby fireplace. “The story goes that Salazar Slytherin built a hidden chamber in the castle without the other founders’ knowledge. After placing a creature inside that only he could control to guard it, he sealed it, so that only his true heir could open it and use the creature to purge the school of those who were unworthy to study magic.”
“The Mudbloods,” Vaisley Goyle stated.
“Those not from Magical families,” Garrett corrected with a sharp glare and dark look sent towards Goyle’s older sister. She huffed in annoyance, yet she still dropped her eyes, clearly conceding to Garrett’s subtle reprimand.
Tracey surprised me by hesitantly raising her hand in the air.
Cara glanced at her with a confused frown. “You don’t have to…whatever, what is it?”
“So if the Chamber of Secrets has been opened, won’t Dumbledore and the professors just close it?”
“It’s a secret chamber sealed against outsiders,” Cara sighed out. “Despite many searching for it, the Chamber of Secrets has never been officially found. Sure, there are rumors that it was opened once before, but that’s never been proven, so many doubt if the Chamber of Secrets is even real or if it's simply a story Salazar Slytherin threatened the other founders with before he left.”
Garrett stepped forward again so he was standing beside Cara. “That being said, everyone should keep their wanderings to a minimum.”
“Why?” asked Flint. “Slytherin House is mostly Purebloods with only a few worthy Halfbloods in the mix. We’ve got nothing to fear even if this whole thing is real.”
“That may be, but you strutting around the castle will likely end up with you being hexed for your arrogance,” replied Cara.
Flint looked ready to hex her when Garrett interjected and stood between the two. “What my fellow prefect means is that tensions around the castle are going to be at an all-time high until things blow over. Slytherins look after their own first and foremost, and no one ,” hard looks sent towards both Flint and Draco, “should do the dumb thing and taunt the other Houses with the creature or chamber, because I guarantee that Professor Snape won’t be amused if any of us start a fight with the other Houses.”
“Now everyone, off to bed!” ordered Cara, who didn't stick around to see if anyone actually listened to her and instead immediately left with a group of Upper-Year girls for the dormitories.
Feeling a tug on my hand, I finally removed my hand from Daphne’s and followed her and the others to our dormitories.
“Esme?” asked Daphne as we entered our dormitory after Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Davis. “Will you be alright tonight?”
“ Oui, I’ll be just fine. I have the potion you got me, remember?” With how my mind was churning, I was extra grateful to Daphne getting me the vial of Sleeping Drought from Professor Snape. Without it I doubt I'd be able to sleep tonight.
Daphne nodded and appeared relieved.
Worry for my dear friend then bubbled in my chest. “Would you like to take some yourself tonight?”
After a moment of consideration she replied, “I think that would be a good idea.”
No one was in a cheery or social mood after everything. The five of us got ready for bed without a word, the only noise being ambient noises we created in the process. Daphne took a small sip from the purple vial before setting it close to my bed on the nightstand.
After climbing under my sheets, I gazed up at my bed canopy as my mind continued to swirl and a few tears of frustration escaped from the corner of my eyes. ‘Why’ was the question that kept repeating over and over again. Why did this have to happen? Why is something else attempting to ruin another school year? Why? Why!? WHY?!
Things had been going well, excluding Lockhart being a complete and utter disappointment as a professor. I couldn’t help but fear that this may be another attempt by that Dark wizard to murder Potter - no matter how illogical the thought may be. I shut my eyes tight as I felt the beginning of a headache developing behind my eyes. Lying alone with my thoughts was getting me nowhere, so I leaned over and picked up the vial of Sleeping Drought. I took a small sip before securing the stopper back on top and returning the vial to my nightstand.
As I waited for the potion to begin working, I couldn’t help but think back to what Cara had said. She had implied her belief that the Chamber of Secrets wasn’t real. However, I could feel in my very magic that it existed, and the monster was a very real danger. Ever since finding the message written in blood and Mrs. Norris strung up by her tail, I’d felt both a sense of foreboding and terror - this was only the beginning was my final thought before drifting off into the sweet blackness of sleep.
Madame = Mrs.
Ma amie = my friend (female)
Monsieur = Mister
Oui = yes
Chapter 12: Wagging Tongues
Chapter Text
Esme POV
Every night since Samhain, I'd been taking the Sleeping Draught potion, and to my knowledge, I hadn't had the nightmare again. Despite what happened on Samhain night, I felt better now that I'd been able to have restful sleep once again. Through these last few days, all anyone could talk about was the attack on Mrs. Norris; who hadn't been killed, but rather had been petrified, not that this news comforted Monsieur Filch. He was often found pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as if he thought the so-called Heir of Slytherin might come back to announce themselves.
Most students were now avoiding that section of the corridor. Despite all of Monsieur Filch's scrubbing with Mrs. Slower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, the gleaming red letters still shone as bright as they first appeared on the stone. Although, the avoidance probably had more to do with Monsieur Filch attempting to give students detentions for 'looking happy' and other such ridiculous reasons.
Blaise continued to be the most well-informed of us all, with many little birdies always tweeting in his ear about what everyone was saying about what happened on that night. The whole school disagreed on how exactly Mrs. Norris was petrified: a potion, a curse, or even the so-called monster in the supposed Chamber of Secrets. Davis had even pointed out one quiet evening that while petrification was rather uncommon, there were several known Magical creatures that could cause it.
We had gone around jokingly suggesting which unlikely creature was roaming the corridors of Hogwarts. However, that discussion soon ended when Theo brought up that no known creature could survive being locked inside a chamber for centuries without any food, water, or other necessities, as every living creature (Magical or otherwise) needed basic sustenance to live. Even powerful Magical creatures such as phoenixes and dragons needed food and such.
With all ridiculous theories and rumours floating around, the one thing everyone did seem to agree on was that Potter was the one to attack Mrs. Norris, and all but Slytherin House were whispering about Potter possibly being the Heir of Slytherin. To the other Houses, it appeared that since Potter came to Hogwarts, danger lurked in the corridors. But to those of us in Slytherin, none of us believed that Potter of all people was even so much as modeling himself after the rival of the very House he was sorted into. Not when he turned his nose up at Slytherin House and our values while appearing utterly ignorant of Magical traditions and culture.
Even with this belief that Potter was Salazar Slytherin's Heir, very few students even seemed to honestly believe the Chamber of Secrets existed; rather they were assuming Potter had simply cracked after facing Quirrell last year and was now getting his revenge. This particular rumour seemed highly unlikely to me since Potter has never seemed the revenge hot-headed type - Weasley certainly, but not Potter. While Potter has had his share of confrontations with Draco, Potter's anger always seemed more defensive in nature to me, sparked in response to Draco's directed insults.
All the other Slytherin Second-Years agreed with me (Blaise even bluntly adding that Potter was too awkward and boring to have a psychotic break). Draco in particular appeared almost offended when Blaise reported that the rest of school believed Potter to be the Heir of Slytherin. Draco admitted he had no idea who could actually be the heir, or even who could be just playing at it to cause trouble, but he was adamant that it definitely wasn't Potter. This didn't mean that Draco wasn't going to stir the cauldron to make Potter's life difficult - oh no, Draco had been greatly enjoying the subtle social shunning Potter had been experiencing these last few days.
Theo vanished even the slightest possibility of Potter being Slytherin's heir when he pointed out that any heir had to be descended from Salazar Slytherin; Potter was not, as his family line was known to be from a completely different bloodline. Additionally, the last known descendants of Salazar Slytherin were the Gaunt family, whose House died out when the last surviving male perished in Azkaban decades ago. Any remaining relations would be forever lost in the maternal bloodlines, being obscured by the bloodlines they intermingled with.
Theo had only known all this because he'd once overheard his father ranting about it being such a wasteful travesty that such a prestigious bloodline was lost because some Muggle-loving Blood Traitors were offended Morfin Gaunt had done away with a few useless Muggles. The discomfort on Theo's face as he explained this plainly showed he disagreed with his father's words, but the fact remained that Salazar Slytherin's bloodline was lost to the passage of time.
Yet all that still didn't keep the majority of the school from strongly suspecting Potter was the so-called Heir of Slytherin. Daphne had managed to get ahold of one of the copies of Hogwarts: A History from the library before they were all gone. After reading through the entire thing, we concluded that Cara Buttermere hadn't lied. The book held the base facts of the story the prefects told with a small dose of bias against Slytherin - it was a sad thing for a recognized historical book to be riddled with bias. Anyways, Hogwarts: A History aside, there was no logical reason for the rumour of Potter being the Heir of Slytherin to continue being the most believed gossip amongst the students.
Still, despite all the buzz over what happened, classes went on as normal. We were suffering through another dull lesson of History of Magic with the Gryffindors today. However, not even halfway through the hour lecture, something unexpected happened. Granger interrupted Professor Binns' flat drone by raising her hand into the air.
The ghost professor appeared both startled and amazed as he paused in the middle of his lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289. "Miss…er…?"
"Granger, sir," she clarified before continuing in a clear voice, "I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets."
Either Granger was trying to get an unbiased rendition of the story or she simply wasn't able to get a copy of Hogwarts: A History like Daphne was. Still, her question had startled quite a few students and gotten everyone's attention.
"My subject is History of Magic," Professor Binns replied slowly in a dry and wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat in a rather grating manner before continuing with his previous lecture. "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcer-er-ers-"
He stuttered to a halt as Granger was once again waving her hand in the air. "Miss Grant?"
"Please sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"
Professor Binns was looking at her with a look of ludicrous amazement - I didn't think anyone had ever interrupted him before in all his years of teaching, both alive and dead. "Well," he began slowly, "yes, one could argue that I suppose. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensationalized tale…"
All reluctance soon faded on the ghost's face when he realized he had the entire classroom of students hanging onto his every word. "Oh, very well. Let me see…the Chamber of Secrets…You all know of course that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago, the precise date is uncertain, by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and Magicals suffered much persecution."
He paused as he gazed around the room. "For a few years, the Founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that Magical learning should be kept within Magical families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."
Professor Binns pursed his lips. "Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that no one would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all he believed were unworthy to study magic."
A look of annoyed resignation flashed across his face. "The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned Magicals. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."
A heavy silence rang through the classroom as those who hadn't known any of the information slowly thought it over. I couldn't help but feel grateful for Professor Binns' stark adherence to historical fact - his tone never once wavered as he relayed none of the bias found in Hogwarts: A History.
Granger's hand was shot back into the air. "Sir, what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the chamber?"
"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," Professor Binns answered in a very dry tone. At the several unnerved looks floating around the classroom he added, "I tell you, the thing does not exist. There is no chamber, and no monster."
"But, professor," one of the Gryffindor boys spoke up. "If the chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"
This was actually a rather good point in my opinion, and something I hadn't thought of before. Professor Binns on the other hand instantly disagreed, looking more aggravated the longer this line of conversation continued. "Nonsense, O'Flaherty." (Even I knew that wasn't his name) "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing-"
"Professor," piped up one of the Patil twins, "what if it required Dark Magic to open-"
"-Just because a Magical doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean they can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns - he truly was awful at remembering anyone's name. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore couldn't find it, it does not exist! It is a myth! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"
I winced at the rather shrill tone Professor Binns' voice became and was actually glad when he returned to his dull sleep-inducing droll. While I hadn't necessarily learned anything new, I felt conflicted over the situation surrounding the Chamber of Secrets. I just knew it was real, I felt it was so in my very magic, yet I had no idea if it truly had been opened or not.
Finally the bell chimed, signaling the end of class, but also waking those few who managed to dose off once again. After gathering my things back into my bag, my friends and I left the classroom, joining the throng of students filling up the corridors. We were approaching the entrance to the staircases when someone crashed into me.
My vision went dark as an unsettling shiver raked down my spine. I blinked and my vision cleared to see Ginny Weasley scrambling to pick up her scattered books and parchment from the floor.
"Oh désolé, Ginny. Here, let me help you," I said as I reached down and picked up a nearby black leather notebook.
The second my hand grasped the notebook, I completely froze in fear. I felt as if a Dark hand was reaching into my very soul and squeezing with sharp talons. As quickly as it occurred, the feeling was gone when the notebook was wretched from my hand. I blinked as I came back to myself. Ginny had snatched the notebook from my hand and was clutching it close to her chest, looking both unsettled and very protective.
"S-s-sorry, I…I've got to go," she stuttered out as she quickly grabbed the last of her books and fled, leaving behind a few blank pieces of parchment in her rush to get away.
"Well she's an odd one for sure," commented Blaise dryly.
"Odd? Try rude," Daphne corrected in an annoyed tone. "I'd thought perhaps the girl Weasley would at least have better deportment than her brothers, but apparently after Percy, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stopped teaching their children any sort of manners."
"Blaise was right, that entire thing was strange," I corrected Daphne in a soft voice as my mind was still turning over the interaction.
The unsettling sensation of when I bumped into her and touching the black notebook aside, I had thought Ginny had no issues with me nor with Slytherin House, not with how we interacted over the summer. But with how different Ginny was just now, perhaps Gryffindor House changed her mind…What else could explain the once mischievous girl suddenly avoiding eye contact and stuttering as she spoke? But that feeling I sensed from the notebook…it was foul, Dark…It had to be a moment of insanity or perhaps a sliver of my nightmare surfacing after being repressed by the Sleeping Draught…I didn't know, and that only unsettled me more.
Theo put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't let the little First-Year bother you, Esme. Whatever her problem is, it's her own. She's not worth your concern."
"Theo's right," agreed Daphne. "Now didn't you say you needed to go to the library to get a book for our Charms assignment?"
"Oui," I answered as I forced myself to push away from what just happened. "I need to find a lightning charm to write about."
"I still don't understand why you chose lightning of all the elements to write your essay on. Fire and water spells are two a knut," commented Blaise.
"Same reason I chose to do earth, mate, because she actually wanted to learn something," teased Theo.
"Are you going to go right now?" asked Daphne.
"I might as well." I replied.
"Then would you return this for me?" Daphne asked as she held out Hogwarts: A History to me.
"Oui, ma amie," I agreed with a smile as I took the book from her. "I'll meet you all back in the common room afterwards. Make sure-"
"-to grab the large table in the corner," interrupted Theo. "It's our normal study spot too, Esme."
I playfully rolled my eyes as I muttered, "Morveux effronté," under my breath before walking in the opposite direction of the dungeons.
I was walking down the corridor that led to the library when I noticed someone was huddling in one of the alcoves. As I got closer, I realized that it was a rather nervous looking Neville.
"Everything alright, Neville?" I asked as I approached him.
He startled, having most likely not seen me approach. "E-Esme, h-hi!"
"Hello," I greeted back before asking once again if he was alright.
"Nothing's w-wrong," he (poorly) denied. Now that I was much closer, I saw Neville was quite flushed and had tears gathered in the corner of his eyes.
"Did something happen?"
Neville hesitated before words practically exploded out his mouth. "F-Filch tried to give me a week's worth of detention just for breathing too loudly! I c-can't help it! I try not to be a bother, but I can't help breathing hard. F-Filch made me nervous before, but now he's even scarier. I'm sc-scared to walk through the corridors in case he comes barrelling at me again."
Halting his rambling, I stepped forward and took his (clammy) hand in my free one. "It's alright, Neville. We're all doing the best we can to avoid Filch. And should he try to give you detention again for something ridiculously like that again you should tell your Head of House. Professor McGonagall will surely do away with any ill-begotten punishments."
"It's not just Filch, it's what the Heir of Slytherin wrote on the wall. I'm practically a Squib myself I'm so lacking in Magical talent. The heir will no doubt be coming for me."
I squeezed his hand. "Firstly, you are just as much a wizard as I am a witch and don't let anyone tell you differently." Smiling gently as I lightly teased, "Besides, you're far too sweet for someone to see you as an enemy."
My smile brightened as I saw some of Neville's nerves disappear, though his face was now much redder than it was before. I released his hand to adjust my grip on Daphne's book. "Honestly, what happened on Samhain night has everyone concerned. Whether it's a prank or not, my prefects told us to limit our wanderings about the castle."
"Your sister told the Third, Second, and First-Years about the same thing, and also suggested that none of us walk the corridors alone."
I smiled gently, happy that Blaire was taking well to her responsibilities as a Gryffindor prefect. "That's sound advice and it might help any nerves you have to walk with a partner."
Neville nodded his head in agreement, before suddenly blurting out, "Herbology!"
It was my turn to startle.
Neville's face flushed red all the way to his ears. "S-sorry, I meant. How's Herbology going for you this year?"
I grimaced at the reminder of that particular lesson. "I'm embarrassed to say your efforts from last year may have been wasted. Whatever skills and knowledge I managed to get with your help have faded over the summer break. I'm just as terrible as ever."
"Great!"
"Pardon?"
"I-I meant, I can t-tutor you again. If y-you want, that is…"
"Oui, I would very much like that." Not only did I truly need the help, but I would love to have our study sessions together once again - I missed spending time with Neville. "Same time as last year?"
"Y-yeah," he agreed. "T-though could we m-maybe not meet in ou- the alcove."
"Of course, how about the back left table near the potions section in the library? Not many people use it since it's in Madame Pince's line-of-sight, but as long as we keep our voices down, we'll have no issues."
"That's fine with me!"
"Très bien! I actually need to be getting to the library now, I need to exchange this book for another."
"No problem, I'll see you around E-Esme!"
Waving goodbye to Neville, I left him in the alcove to continue on my way. Madame Pince was quite happy to get Daphne's book back, apparently there was an entire parchment list of people waiting to check it out.
The library itself was fairly full, with many students either in search of books they needed or gathered quietly at the various tables and study benches. To save myself time, I asked Madame Pince if she had any copies of Achievements in Charms by Sameera Hanifus available. Unlike Hogwarts: A History, this book was readily available and with a wave of her wand, Madame Pince summoned the book from the shelves for me.
Once I wrote my name down on the Checked Out sheet, I was free to leave for the Slytherin common room. Luckily, I didn't have to wait for the staircases to move into place and thus was able to quickly make my way into the dungeons. I ended up following a group of Sixth-Year girls down the corridor that led to our common room, so I didn't have to be the one to mutter the password to the wall for the entranceway to appear.
True to Theo's words, they had claimed our favorite study area in the common room and were already diligently working on assignments as I approached. Taking the open place beside Daphne, I got the materials I needed out of my bag before getting settled.
Daphne paused from reading to glance over at me. "Your mood appears much improved from before."
"Does it? I hadn't noticed." I replied, though I realized she was right. Whatever lingering feelings I had from what happened with Ginny Weasley were gone, and I knew exactly when I felt the burden leave - after I spoke with Neville.
Daphne made a humming noise, clearly unconvinced with my vague answer, but still she left it alone and returned to her transfiguration book. I got work on my charms essay, quickly selecting the Tempest Jinx as the subject of my essay. It was a rather fascinating spell - a spell generally meant for duelling, it created bolts of lightning to strike at either one or multiple targets. While simplistic in its incantation and wand movement, the spell required a great deal of control and a natural inclination towards elemental type spells to perform correctly and impactfully.
I finished my charms essay before too long and at Theo's suggestion we all got out our astrology charts to work on them together. Since we were all always half-asleep for this particular class, it was always best to work on the assignments together because everyone was always off or wrong about at least one or two things.
Before we knew it, it was getting close to dinner time. While Blaise and Theo stayed behind in the common room to wait for Draco, Daphne and I went ahead to the great hall on our own. We had just barely left the dungeons behind when Potter, Granger, and Weasley suddenly stood in our path - as if they were waiting for us.
Potter was the one to speak up. "Esme, can we talk to you for a second?"
I really didn't want to and was debating if I wanted to risk them following me like bloodhounds if I were to ignore them and keep walking.
"I don't know, can you?" snarked Daphne. Clearly she was as eager as I was to give the Gryffindors any more of our time.
Weasley flushed scarlet and opened his mouth, but was cut off by Granger. "Please, Esme. It's important," she said as she gestured to a nearby alcove, likely wanting the privacy and also implying they didn't want Daphne to overhear whatever it was they had to talk to me about.
I sighed; might as well just get this over with. "Fine."
"Are you sure?" Daphne whispered softly to me.
"Oui, I can handle these three just fine," I whispered back, tipping my head towards her so the Gryffindors couldn't read my lips.
Daphne nodded, and in a louder voice announced, "I'll be right here then." Unsaid was that she'd be watching closely, which made Granger bristle in offense and Potter appear guilty, while Weasley likely missed the underlying message as he simply turned and stomped his way into the alcove.
I followed Potter and Granger into the alcove but remained on the edge and off to the side to ensure Daphne still had a clear view of the four of us. Hopefully whatever they had to say wouldn't ruin the pleasant mood Neville had been able to coax me into.
Monsieur = mister
Désolé = sorry!
Oui = yes
Ma amie = my friend (female)
Morveux effronté = cheeky brat (male)
Pardon = sorry?
Madame = Mrs.
Très bien = very good
Extra POV
Harry POV
"So what is so important that you three can't say in front of Daphne and broke your patterned avoidance for?"
I flinched at her words, feeling as if she punched the air out of me. I'd wanted to talk to Esme since the start of term, but never seemed to find the right time and then the longer I waited the less important it felt to speak with her. We weren't friends, I long broke my promise to her from when we first met to not let different Houses come between us. At this point, and as much as I hated it, I doubted we would ever get to be friends after I'd messed up so many times with her. Like she said, I avoided her.
While I didn't know too much about Esme's friends, they seemed a whole lot better than Malfoy and it was comforting to know that she had them at her side. I had noticed Malfoy had been hanging around her a lot more this term than before, and Esme really shouldn't waste her time on someone like Malfoy. She's so much better than him and hopefully I could convince her of how rotten he was and she'd help us make sure Malfoy couldn't hurt anyone or anything else.
Taking a deep breath I jumped right in. "We think Malfoy's the Heir of Slytherin, and we just need to prove it. So we were hoping you could speak to him, get him to admit it, then we can tell Professor Dumbledore and he can stop him before Malfoy can hurt anyone."
"Incroyable," she muttered while shaking her head, clear disbelief showing on her face. "You three honestly think Draco was the one to petrify Mrs. Norris and write the bloody message on the wall."
"You heard what he said. 'You'll be next Mudbloods', he practically declared himself the heir," Ron gritted out. I glanced at him in concern, hoping Ron's emotions wouldn't get away from him. This was our only plan, but it would fail if Ron tried to pick a fight with Esme.
"He's made it quite clear he thinks little of Muggleborns," added Hermione.
"And his family have all been sorted into Slytherin for generations," I finished up our reasoning and waited for the information to click for Esme like it did for us. However, I felt my stomach drop when Esme's eyes darkened as an annoyed frown replaced her previously blank face.
"You three do realize there are many Slytherins who come from families that have been in Slytherin House for centuries? Even then, that's beside the point as the House sorting has little to do with anyone's ancestry. Also, if Draco was the heir, wouldn't he have opened the chamber last year? The heir could be a First-Year for all you know since this is only happening now; that is, if it wasn't some prank done in poor taste."
Wait, did Esme not even think the Chamber of Secrets was real? How could she not? She was in Slytherin, surely they all knew about it. I quickly thought over what she said. "He probably couldn't control the monster as a First-Year."
Esme rolled her eyes, making me feel like I was an idiot for suggesting such a thing. "So a Second-Year can? By that logic it would need to be an Upper-Year."
Okay, I couldn't really fault her on that, but time was of the essence and we needed to know if Malfoy was the heir or not before someone got hurt. "Look, Malfoy practically declared there would be more attacks," I pointed out to her, internally hoping she'd help us again despite the sour note last term ended for her and the other Slytherins. "All we're asking is for you to speak with Malfoy and try to get him to admit to being the Heir of Slytherin."
"I don't need to interrogate him about it, Potter, as I've heard Draco say he doesn't know who the so-called Heir of Slytherin could be and I believe him."
I internally despaired that we weren't getting through to her and worried that she was believing whatever lies Malfoy was telling her - I hated that she called me by my last name but Malfoy by his first name.
Suddenly, I swore I heard crackling and my eyes widened when I saw Esme's hair spark up like Hermione's did when she was particularly worked up. That could not be a good sign.
"May I remind you three that last year you were convinced Professor Snape was the culprit going after the Philosopher's Stone and someone you thought was the so-called victim was the true thief," she slowly bit out, though her green eyes were practically aglow with fire she looked so angry.
"You three are terrible wannabe Aurors and I suggest you leave this sleuthing to those who know better, lest you meddle in things that ought to be left alone. However, knowing the three of you, you'll simply ignore my words yet again and because you simply can't help yourselves, you'll go looking for trouble. So if you don't mind, I'm going to dinner." Not even a second after she finished saying that, she spun in her heels and glided away back to where her friend was waiting.
I felt slightly stunned after Esme's angry tirade. I'd only ever seen Hermione's hair spark with her emotions, and I honestly thought it was just something unique to Hermione, but apparently not - perhaps it was a girl thing. Never before had I seen her so angry, not that I blamed her. We hadn't left things on the best of terms before summer break, but then with Dobby stealing all my letters she probably thought I ignored the letter she sent me.
Ron shook off what happened faster than I could. "That was a complete waste of time, just like I said it would be. Esme didn't even try to listen to us before storming off. She can't see how rotten Malfoy is, he has her completely fooled. We weren't wrong to think it was Snape last year, he made himself all suspicious-like, and we aren't wrong now. I bet she knows it's Malfoy and was just covering for him, hoping that whatever he does will make sure Slytherin wins the House Cup this year."
"You're completely wrong, Ron. Esme isn't like Malfoy, and she would never condone people getting hurt just to win a competition," said Hermione, instantly defending the Slytherin girl.
I felt a guilty rock settle in my stomach that it wasn't me who came to Esme's defense first. Though Ron did sort of have a point. Last year, Esme had willingly helped us; she warned us of all the traps we would have to face to get the stone. But just now she wanted nothing to do with us. It hurt that she defended Malfoy, a lot more than when she defended Snape last year.
"I believe Esme when she said she heard Malfoy claim he didn't know who the heir was," continued Hermione, "but Malfoy easily could've just been keeping the truth from her. He wouldn't admit something like that to Esme, I don't think they're all that close."
Latching onto Hermione's train of thought I added, "So maybe Crabbe or Goyle might know. They're around Malfoy all the time after all."
"Yeah, maybe we could trick them into telling us," suggested Ron.
"Even they aren't that thick," Hermione muttered before she brightened - she had another idea. "But there might be another way. Mind you, it would be difficult, not to mention, we'd be breaking fifty school rules, and it'll be dangerous, very dangerous."
Incroyable = unbelievable
Chapter 13: Fraternizing with Family
Chapter Text
Esme POV
Since Potter, Granger, and Weasley had the gall to ask me if Draco was the heir of Slytherin based on their biased assumptions and faulty logic, they'd, Magic blessedly, left me alone. Despite this, they were clearly still up to something, just as I had assumed they would be - they really could not leave well enough alone. Still, it wasn't my business and I refused to let those three drag me into their shenanigans when I had enough things to worry about on my own.
The Sleeping Draught Daphne got for me continued to ensure restful sleep that left me unaware if the nightmare was still plaguing me or not. Added in with the lack of any further incidents involving the so-called Heir of Slytherin, most of us were left thinking that what happened to Mrs. Norris was a morbid prank in poor taste and nothing else would come of it. Now almost two weeks later, life at Hogwarts was going back to how it usually was.
Lockhart had thankfully learned his lesson since the disastrous class with the pixies and hadn't brought another live creature to class for a 'demonstration'. I shuddered to think what could've happened had Lockhart chosen a more dangerous creature to try to impress us with his skills (or in reality, lack thereof). However, the lack of chaos notwithstanding, Lockhart's classes became even worse than Professor Binns' History of Magic, because we learned absolutely nothing from the brainless and vainglorious wizard.
Instead of even attempting to teach us anything about Defense Against the Dark Arts, Lockhart instead read us passages from his books (which was more about him than the actual creature he supposedly 'defeated'). Even further, he reenacted some of the more dramatic passages, and to much of the class's amusement, always selected Potter to play the part of the Magical creature. So far, Potter had been forced to play the Transylvanian villager who was cured of the Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who Lockhart cursed to eat only lettuce (which seemed very cruel to me, he was better off just killing the poor creature instead of cursing it to die a slow death).
Today, Lockhart pulled Potter to the front of the class to act the part of the werewolf he would be defeating. Unlike the previous times, Potter didn't once try to argue or convince Lockhart to select another student to assist him. He even was putting forth more of an effort to play his assigned part - he held his hands up like claws and would awkwardly 'howl' when directed to by Lockhart, 'for dramatic effect'.
He probably had finally resigned himself to this embarrassment, but either way, it made this useless class a little more entertaining. I alternated between idly watching and studying my Transfiguration notes - Theo was convinced Professor McGonagall was going to hold an impromptu quiz on Monday, so I was making sure my notes were thorough and clear for studying this weekend.
"Nice loud howl, Harry."
Potter was blushing red as he let out a squeaky howl.
"Exactly. And then, if you'd believe it, I pounced like this," Lockhart explained before he actually kneeled on a pillow he had set down and gestured for Potter to get on the floor. Potter slowly complied as Lockhart continued his retelling. "And thus, slammed him to the floor. With one hand I managed to hold down and with my other, I put my wand to his throat."
Draco and his group snickered as Potter flinched to avoid getting smacked in the face with Lockhart's wand when he suddenly whipped it out.
"I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm. He let out a piteous moan…go on, Harry."
Potter groaned.
"Higher than that."
He tried again, this time sounding more like a mouse.
"Good. The fur vanished, the fangs shrank, and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective, and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."
I blinked before screwing my face into confusion - was Lockhart actually claiming to have 'cured' a man of being a werewolf? That was impossible, there was no cure. Glancing to my right showed Daphne just as confused as I was, Theo completely unaware as he was entirely focused on doing other coursework, and Blaise doodling away on a piece of parchment. Any further contemplation of the dragon dung Lockhart was trying to peddle off on us was interrupted when the bell rang.
Lockhart got to his feet. "Homework! Compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"
I gathered my books to leave the classroom as quickly as possible with my friends. We passed by Granger and Weasley who were waiting in the back of the room for Potter. I quickly looked away when Granger attempted to meet my eye and hurried out the doorway with Daphne at my side.
"This has to be the easiest assignment yet," commented Daphne as the four of us regrouped in the corridor. "He didn't even specify the type of poem."
"I'd bet my wand everyone besides the few remaining Lockhart fans will write haikus to get a passing grade," said Theo.
We paused to wait for the staircase we needed to move into place.
"How about this?" asked Blaise before he flared his arm out dramatically while holding the other to his chest. "A brainless wizard. Flailing before a werewolf. Then runs in failure."
The four of us snickered. Theo commented, "I don't think Lockhart's ego could handle it if you actually handed that in."
"It's an easy enough fix," I said as the staircase settled into place. "Change 'brainless' to 'genius', 'flailing before' to 'bravely fighting', and 'runs in failure' to 'leaves a hero'. Which I will be using now as my poem so good luck to the rest of you."
"You wound me, ma ange," teased Blaise dramatically after he hopped over the trick step near the bottom of the staircase.
Daphne giggled. "It really isn't that much of a chore." She delicately hummed as she got her thoughts in order. "Strong and brave, he fights. Masterful use of magic. Beast becomes human."
"It's easy to pander to his ego, but why waste this excellent opportunity to subtly insult our nibbering nonce of professor and get a good grade for it," said Blaise.
"Oh~, how Slytherin of you," I cooed as we reached the bottom of the staircase.
"Challenge accepted, mate," said Theo, determination in his voice. "We'll see who can creatively insult Lockhart the most. Winner does the other's next three Defense assignments."
"You're on," accepted Blaise as the two of them shook hands.
Daphne and I shared a look, both of us rolling our eyes at the competitiveness of boys before we giggled. Finally we arrived at the common room. I quickly dropped off my school bag and waved goodbye to my friends as I hurried out the entranceway to get to the courtyard to meet with my siblings - I had been looking forward to this all day since Blaire told me at breakfast this morning about the meet up.
Up ahead through an open window I could see Alaric already waiting with Carlisle and Dustin nearby. It wasn't until I got closer did I realize someone else was there - Ernie was sitting on the nearby stone ledge. I blinked in surprise as I approached the group of boys. I hadn't expected our only cousin to be here, but I supposed Blaire now wished to include Ernie in our family meetings; he was family after all.
"Bonjour," I greeted, announcing my presence.
"Petite papillon!" greeted Alaric as he engulfed me into a hug.
I hugged him back. As I pulled away I asked, "Where's Blaire?"
"She should be along shortly. She had Advanced Ancient Runes, so we weren't able to walk here together," explained Alaric.
I moved over and sat next to Ernie, giving him a smile in greeting, which he easily returned.
"I'm here," called out Blaire in French as she came jogging into the courtyard. "Sorry, I'm late!" She slowed and instantly went over to Ernie and me, greeting us both with a gentle kiss on the forehead - which made Ernie flush as red as Blaire already was.
"You were hardly late," Carlisle reassured her in French.
"Besides," continued Dustin in the same language, "we have the rest of the afternoon before dinner. That's plenty of time to catch up."
"Um…excuse me?" Ernie spoke up hesitantly. "What are you all saying?"
I blinked in confusion and then remembered that our cousin did not speak French.
"Oh désolé- I mean, I'm sorry, Ernie," apologized Blaire. "We didn't mean to exclude you!"
"French is more natural for us when we're together," explained Carlisle.
Dustin shrugged carelessly. "I forgot you were here."
Carlisle elbowed his twin in his side causing Dustin to scowl at him, but neither commented further. Ernie had hunched over a little at Dustin's remark so I placed my hand over his on the stone ledge. He flinched at the contact but didn't pull away. As he glanced over at me from the corner of his eye, I smiled at him again. Thankfully, he slowly began to straighten up.
"I think I have the perfect solution," Alaric announced before taking out his wand. "Father taught me a translation spell he learned while working at the French Ministry. It makes it so that you'll understand any French we say and anything you say will be French to our ears since I speak both French and English."
"Excellent idea, 'Laric!" Blaire then quickly reassured Ernie, who looked a tad nervous. "Don't worry, petit cousin, while advanced, it's a harmless spell if it doesn't work."
Without further adieu, Alaric swished his wand in a diagonal pattern. "Verbum Manifestum!"
A bolt of soft blue light shot out of Alaric's wand and hit Ernie. We all waited in silence for an indication the spell worked.
"Well go on, little badger, say something," commanded Dustin, eyebrows raised.
"...Did it work?" asked Ernie, his words coming out in French.
"I'd say so," I replied. "Both Dustin and you spoke French just now, and I'm guessing you understood him since you replied."
"I did! This is amazing!"
Alaric put away his wand. "Great, now that that's settled, let's relax."
Blaire sat down on the ledge, leaving me squeezed between her and Ernie, while Dustin, Carlisle, and Alaric got themselves comfortable on the ground as we all formed a makeshift circle.
"How is everyone doing?" questioned Blaire, starting us off.
"I'm fine," I replied first when Blaire gave me a pointed look. "Classes are going well, besides Defense Against the Dark Arts. That class is a complete joke."
"It's not the class that is the joke, it's the professor," snarked Dustin. "The entire school heard about the pixie incident with your class."
"Especially since Defense classes for the next few days were cancelled while Lockhart both got back his wand and reworked his syllabus," continued Carlisle.
"I doubt his NEWT-level classes are any better than ours."
"He just brags about himself and preens like a peacock for the girls still taken in by his looks," replied Alaric with an annoyed scowl on his face.
"I've learned more in self-study than the material he's bothered to try to teach us," added Blaire, frustration colouring her tone. "I'll never understand how Headmaster Dumbledore could hire such a incompetent narcissist."
"I heard it's because he couldn't find anyone else," said Ernie.
"There's no way Dumbledore is already scraping the bottom of the cauldron for professors," I said.
"Don't be rude, Esme, he's still our headmaster," Blaire lightly scolded. "Though perhaps you have a point. All our professors are English-born, while at Beauxbatons there were plenty of international professors. Madame Maxine always said she got the best for her students."
I had never realized it, but Blaire was right. None of our professors here were from a different country. It did make me curious about what other differences my siblings had noticed between the two schools and kept quiet about.
"Our wellbeing aside, how's having the Heir of Slytherin in your House," Dustin asked with a pointed look at Blaire and Alaric.
Beside me, Ernie tensed up and I sent him a concerned look as Blaire snapped at Dustin. "Don't you even joke about that! I don't care how it looked on Samhain, Potter would never do something like that, even as a joke."
"B-but I heard that Potter was yelled out of Filch's office not long before it happened," Ernie brought up as he stared at his shoes. He then looked up at the rest of us, clearly anxious. "My friend Justin is scared he'll be next since he outright told Potter he's Muggleborn."
Seeing Ernie so worried I tightened my hand on his as Blaire spoke up. "I'm sorry your friend is worried and scared. But I truly believe that Potter wouldn't attack anyone, let alone hurt them like someone did to Mrs. Norris."
"Besides, nearly everyone in every House has had some altercation with Filch at some point," added Carlisle. "The man hates children."
"I'd say he more relishes in the fear and pain of children rather than hates them," said Dustin.
"Be that as it may," inserted Alaric as he took control of the rocky topic of conversation. "A few precautions wouldn't do any harm. I don't care what the legend says about the chamber or the heir; no one goes anywhere alone. Am I clear?"
We all voiced our agreement. He then continued in the same authoritative voice we rarely heard from him. "I know no one has written home about what happened because if anyone had I would know. I'd at least have received a letter from Father asking for a report. I have faith that Headmaster Dumbledore and the other professors will resolve the matter quickly, so I ask that no one worry Father and Mother needlessly."
Once again we all voiced our agreements, though Ernie admitted he never even thought about writing to his father about it, assuming that somehow Uncle Reginald would already know about it. Though Ernie's comment struck something in me. The few students I knew who had written home remained unconcerned since they either thought the entire thing was a prank or thought they were completely safe due to not being considered an 'enemy of the heir'.
Alaric was right about not needlessly worrying Papa and Maman - neither would care about the validity of the situation or our supposedly safety, they'd both worry and fret, Papa more so than Maman. He almost refused us to attend this term because of Lockhart's known incompetence. He would surely pull us out of Hogwarts entirely if he thought for a second that danger was lurking in the corridors.
The entire discussion of the chamber and what happened had dampened the cheerful mood with negativity. I felt the heavy weight of everyone's feelings in the air. Ernie especially remained an anxious mess - I could tell his worry for his friend hadn't been lessened at all by Blaire's words. The long quiet that rang between us needed to end, so I brought up the only subject I knew would cause a distraction.
"You know, my friends have already placed bets about the Quidditch match tomorrow. They're confident that even if Potter catches the Snitch, Slytherin will still win the entire match thanks to the advantage of their superior brooms."
All the boys, minus Ernie, scoffed.
"Brooms aren't everything, little sister," said Carlisle. "A quality Quidditch player is more than just a top-of-the-line broom."
"They have to be a fair flyer to control their broom in the first place," continued Dustin.
"And be able to think ahead and plan their flight course."
"While having sharp reflexes," added Alaric, "in order to react and adapt to other players and possible Bludgers. It's those very reflexes that aid Harry in being such a good Seeker."
"Not to mention Quidditch is a team sport and a team that doesn't play well together won't do well in a match," explained Carlisle. "And no offense to your House, but while Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup last year they only barely won over Hufflepuff because we didn't have a good showing against Gryffindor-"
"-Which won't happen again this year," interrupted Dustin. "Hufflepuff's has a new Chaser, Malcolm Preece, who can give even you Alaric a run for your galleons. Little Potter won't end the match so quickly this time, so we'll have a proper match this year."
"Oh you're on, little brothers," replied Alaric with equal fervor. "Gryffindor will be reared up and ready to go."
"Simmer down boys," lightly scolded Blaire. And with a slightly sarcastic tone added, "Your epic Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff face-off isn't for months."
"I understand what you're saying, big brothers," I said. "But I don't think you're giving the Slytherin team enough credit, Draco especially." I flipped some of my hair over my shoulder. "While I don't know much about Draco's Seeker abilities, he did beat out several others for the position at tryouts. And, I know for a fact he is a fair flyer."
"I'm sorry if I have offended your friend, little butterfly," apologized Alaric. "But for me it doesn't really matter how good young Malfoy is since I won't be directly playing against him during the match."
"Alaric's right," spoke up Ernie, who then immediately flushed scarlet as we all looked at him. "I-I mean Malfoy will be going against Potter on the pitch, so the question is who is the better Seeker, Malfoy or Potter, and Potter already has a year of experience over Malfoy even though they're the same age."
"Excellent point, cousin," smiled Blaire. "I guess we'll see what happens tomorrow."
While Blaire had effectively ended the conversation, a new sense of uneasiness grew in my chest. I had the sudden feeling that something bad was going to happen at the match tomorrow. Worry for Alaric pushed me to speak up. "You'll still wear the protection charm I made for you last Yule, right Alaric?"
"Always do, little butterfly," reassured Alaric with a gentle smile on his face.
Blaire shifted the conversation to classes and after everyone quickly reassured our studious sister we were keeping up with our coursework, Dustin launched into a funny story of Carlisle's latest klutz episode.
"-and she turned so red," said Dustin while chuckling. "I was certain she was about to hex him, when Carlisle instantly turns on the charm and makes her red for a completely different reason."
We all laughed as Carlisle covered his own pink face in embarrassment.
"Does this mean dear Carlisle has a girlfriend now?" I teasingly asked, poking his leg with my foot.
"Sweet Circe, no!" instantly denied Carlisle. "Betty's wonderful, but one, I don't like her that way, and two, I would be completely idiotic to attempt to date the Head Girl's younger sister. Penny's the protective type."
We all laughed a bit more before Blaire cleared her throat, her amusement fading into anxiousness. "There is something I need to tell you all, but before I do, let me just say that it is a done thing and nothing any of you say will change it."
"What is it, big sister?" I asked, as both curiosity and anticipation bubbled in my chest. Perhaps, maybe?...
"George Weasley and I are dating and have been since the start of term."
There was utter silence as what she said sunk in.
"Magnificent! Congratulations!" I happily exclaimed while taking Blaire's hand in both of mine. I ended up shaking it several times in excitement, which made her giggle.
Some of her nervousness faded as a happy smile overcame her face. "Thank you, little sister."
"Yes, congratulations, Blaire," Ernie intoned carefully, clearly not knowing what he was to do as he awkwardly fidgeted next to me.
Hearing a choking noise, we both turned to find Alaric turning a disturbing shade of purple while Carlisle and Dustin began inching away from him.
Carlisle cleared his throat. "While Alaric relearns how to breathe and speak-"
"-really Bee?" interrupted Dustin. "Of all the people you could've picked, did it have to be George Weasley?"
I frowned, not liking what he could be implying. "What's wrong with him exactly? Because I'll have you know I've seen George Weasley adorably pining for our sister and he treats her quite well."
Blaire blushed as Dustin and Carlisle both snorted. "Setting the love-sick mooncalf eyes aside, he and his brother are nothing but trouble and hardly seem to take anything seriously."
Dustin then took over. "We're just confused on why our serious older sister would find anything attractive about a lanky boy who is almost two years younger than her. George Weasley knows absolutely nothing about Magical culture and should Blaire attend an event with him on her arm he will likely offend the first person he meets, potentially tarnishing the family reputation."
"You have to know Father won't be pleased, Bee," added Carlisle. "We are all well aware that he dislikes Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."
I winced at the reminder. I honestly had forgotten about what our parents might have to say about Blaire's choice…Carlisle was right, Papa won't like this one bit.
Blaire's spine straightened as the last of her nerves vanished and anger began to radiate from her. "I've already thought about all that. The short answer is, I like who I like and he likes me and we don't care what anyone else has to say about it. George and Fred both have started reading up on Magical traditions and culture, they honestly wish to learn about it. And as for the rest, I am not Father's heir nor has my hand been promised to another, so it hardly matters who I choose to date. I've already written to Mother about this and she is very happy for me and George. Father may not be pleased for his reasons, but for your information he has given me his blessing to pursue my relationship with George."
The twins both raised their hands in placating manners as they apologized, though Dustin hardly looked apologetic at all.
Alaric finally seemed to calm enough to start yelling. "But he's-"
"-But nothing 'Laric," interrupted Blaire.
While Alaric continued to breathe heavily the anger appeared to slip away with each breath. "Fine~," he gritted out between his teeth. "But should George hurt or pressure you in any way, I will exact my retribution unhindered as is my right as both your twin brother and the Heir of the Family."
"You can certainly have a go at him after I'm done with should any of that happen - which it won't because George is an absolute gentleman sweetheart. He does-"
"I don't need to know the details!" interrupted Alaric frantically. "And I definitely don't want to see you two carrying on in the common room or corridors."
"Don't worry, we'll save it for the broom closets." Blaire winked, then burst into giggles and I soon followed at the sight of Alaric's unease and disgusted face. If Alaric hadn't seen anything so far, I doubted it would start happening now. Blaire may be an affectionate person, but she was not like the shameless teens who enjoyed kissing where all could see them in the corridors.
Soon the five of us were all laughing at him. Our laughter did the trick and the remaining tension left Alaric's body. And just like that, things became light-hearted once again. I doubted our brothers were completely alright with Blaire dating (they've always been protective), but at least they were smart enough to not attempt to stand in Blaire's way, or worse, 'forbid' her from dating George. With time, they'd adjust. And in the meantime, I sent a prayer to Mother Magic to bless Blaire and George with happiness for however long their relationship lasts.
Ma ange = my angel (female)
Bonjour = hello
Petite papillon = little butterfly (female)
Désolé = sorry
Petit cousin = little cousin
Chapter 14: Attack of the Bludger
Chapter Text
Esme POV
The pleasant weather from yesterday had completely vanished by the next morning. There was a heavy sort of mugginess in the air, the promise of a rainy storm. In preparation for the rainfall during the match, Daphne and I ensured we both had our gloves and rain cloaks before we left for the dormitory. I also grabbed my bag with both my Omnioculars and the enchantable banner Papa had bought for me in Diagon Alley. It was already charmed to cheer on Slytherin, but also Alaric. I would be supporting my brother, regardless of what anyone (Parkinson) had to say about it.
I still had a bad feeling brewing in my stomach about today’s match, but all I could do was pray to Mother Magic that no one would be seriously injured and have my Omnioculars ready to capture the memory if something were to happen again. While the weather was not one to inspire hope and positive feelings, everyone was still buzzing with excitement for the first Quidditch match of the season.
Daphne and I joined Theo and Blaise in the common room before the four of us left for breakfast together. The great hall was already filled with chatter when we arrived as students bustled about. Alaric and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were huddled together near the end of their long table. While they all appeared quite focused, I still managed to catch my brother’s eyes and sent him an encouraging smile. Alaric smiled confidently in return and nodded back, looking entirely assured in his team’s victory; though some of his teammates didn’t appear to share his confidence, as Oliver looked quite tense beside Alaric.
Meanwhile, the Slytherin Quidditch team were also huddled together at our table, though they all looked rather relaxed and were radiating a smug sort of confidence that bordered on arrogance. After what my brothers had to say yesterday, I was no longer sure that Slytherin had a guaranteed victory with Lord Malfoy’s gifts.
Many seemed to share my thoughts as several bets were being made amongst the older students alternating between Slytherin and Gryffindor victory.
“Who do you think will win today’s match?” I asked the table in general as I spread some marmalade onto my toast.
“Obviously Slytherin,” crooned Parkinson - her eyes firmly fixated on Draco, who was in the center of the Slytherin team huddle further up the table.
“Between their talents and latest brooms, they are practically guaranteed victory,” Bulstrode unsurprisingly agreed with Parkinson, while Davis simply nodded her agreement.
“Draco certainly has talent, but no one can deny Potter does as well,” interjected Theo. “Honestly, I think it’s anyone's match today.”
“Though, word is people are leaning towards a Slytherin victory despite Potter catching the Snitch,” said Blaise.
As Daphne stirred some sugar into her oatmeal she said, “Whoever wins I just hope they do it quickly. I’d rather not sit through a rainstorm if possible.”
“ Oui ,” I agreed, now slightly worried over whether my banner was impervious to water or not.
“It may not even rain today,” said Theo. “You can’t ever really know here.”
As eleven o’clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch pitch. The stands were crowded as most, if not all, of the students squeezed their way into their respective sections. The six Slytherin First-Years were huddled together in front of us closest to the wooden barrier, leaving us all safely surrounded by various Upper-Years - it seemed the prefects were determined not to have another brawl between Houses.
Everyone was buzzing in excitement, and while I still felt worried for Alaric’s safety, I was filled with less negativity than I had been last year. All three of my brothers had avoided being injured, so I felt slightly reassured they would be alright. I carefully held my Omnioculars in my left hand (Theo hadn’t said a word about me keeping his old set since I gifted him a new pair this past Yule), while holding the handle for my charmed banner in my right. Right now it was green and silver with ‘Go Slytherin!’ scrawled across it, but all I had to do was utter Mutatio , and it would change colors to red and silver with ‘Go Alaric Go!’ scrawled across it.
Suddenly, as if following some unseen cue, the Slytherin team came bursting out of the team changing room. They zoomed like comets through the air, maintaining a straight v-formation as they lapped around the pitch. Draco stood out amongst the other players as he was so much smaller than the others, especially Heir Flint’s height and bulk.
We all cheered loudly for our team, but I still kept my focus on the other team’s changing room. The second I saw a flash of scarlet I muttered ‘ Mutatio ’, and cheered for Alaric as the Gryffindor team flew out onto the pitch. I ignored the many Slytherins who were now booing at the Gryffindor team as I continued to cheer for my brother. As each team settled into their starting positions, another quickly muttered ‘Mutatio’ switched my banner back to cheering for my House.
Madame Hooch took up her position as referee in the center of the pitch. She blew her whistle in one loud blast and released the Quaffle straight up into the air. The roar of the crowd was deafening as the two teams converged on the falling Quaffle. It was grabbed by one of the Slytherin Chasers, who immediately took off towards the Gryffindor goalposts.
“The Quaffle is taken by Cassius Warrington of Slytherin - he’s easily outpacing the Gryffindor Chasers with his bribe of broom,” announced Lee Jordan.
“ Jordan! ” snapped Professor McGonagall.
“Sorry, Professor.”
Theo scoffed beside me. “Seriously, the other Houses just won’t let the brooms go. Any of the other well-off families could donate brooms if they so desired. It’s not our fault Lord Malfoy was generous enough to do so.”
I merely hummed in response as I kept my eyes fixed on the match.
“Warrington passes to Chaser Marcus Flint of Slytherin - Flint throws - and Keeper Wood…misses. Slytherin scores !”
One of the female Gryffindor Chasers swooped low and caught the falling Quaffle before taking off for the other side of the pitch, Alaric and the other Chaser remaining close by.
“Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor takes off with the Quaffle. She dodges a dive from Flint - passing to Alaric Archard of Gryffindor. Chasers Pucey and Warrington of Slytherin go in for the attack - A Bludger is sent their way by Beater Fred or George Weasley. Wait, what? The Bludger changes direction midair and flies straight for Seeker Potter of Gryffindor!”
“That can’t be normal?” I questioned, as I shifted to watching the strange Bludger through my Omnioculars.
“No, it’s not,” replied Theo, a deep frown marring his face. “Bludgers never concentrate on one player like this, it’s job is to try and unseat as many flyers as possible. Someone’s likely spelled the Bludger.”
Potter managed to quickly avoid the speeding Bludger and one of the Weasley twins hit it hard with his bat and sent it shooting towards Draco, who hovered high up in the air nearby. However, once again the Bludger unnaturally swerved off target and shot back at Potter.
Theo was right, the Bludger was spelled and was targeting Potter. I doubted it would be Lockhart - the wizard couldn’t even stop Cornish pixies. He was too incompetent to do something like this. However, this left the culprit to be a complete mystery, as, unlike last year’s incident, the caster wouldn’t need to maintain eye contact or even continuously recite the spell phrase to ensure the spell was maintained for something like this. I had no way of finding even a hint of who could be behind this.
Potter continued to quickly fly across the pitch as he attempted to outfly the Bludger whistling along behind him. Both Weasley twins were now focused on protecting him from the determined Bludger as the match continued on. The Gryffindor team appeared to be distracted, Alaric especially, as Heir Flint actually managed to steal the Quaffle away from him.
I flinched as I suddenly felt a cold raindrop land on my head. Internally grumbling at the chill now racing down my spine, I pulled up my hood as the sprinkle turned into a misting drizzle.
“Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero. Potter continues to dodge his new determined best mate as Fred and George Weasley work in tandem to beat the mad Bludger sane!”
“Is it just me or does Jordan sound like he’s oddly enjoying this?” asked Daphne.
“No, it’s not just you,” said Blaise. “Watching Potter jammed between the Weasley twins and dodging their flailing limbs is entertaining. And it’s keeping Potter from catching the Snitch, so Slytherin might completely obliterate Gryffindor in their victory.”
“Chasers Bell of Gryffindor and Warrington of Slytherin grapple for the Quaffle - hang on! Archard abandons his teammate and is flying fast for Potter. What is he… Oh! The other Bludger is speeding from above Potter and the Weasleys!”
My eyes snapped towards the group at the far side of the pitch. Everything seemed to slow down as I saw Alaric flying with determination towards the incoming Bludger - fear froze my heart in my chest.
“ Alaric! ” I screamed as Alaric put himself between Potter and the Bludger, looking determined to keep the younger boy safe.
“ Archard is hit and sent flying! ” Jordan’s voice echoed throughout the stadium.
Alaric was completely knocked off his broom and was free-falling fast towards the ground. I didn’t think he was even conscious anymore. I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding when Alaric’s fall was suddenly halted and he gently levitated onto the ground.
“Alaric…” I practically sobbed as I worried for the state my brother was in.
Daphne wrapped her arms around me. “He’ll be okay, Esme. Madam Pomfrey will heal him and he’ll be right as rain in no time.”
“We can leave right now if you want,” offered Theo as he gripped onto my hand in comfort.
I was going to accept when, to my utter relief, Alaric got to his feet on his own. He appeared to be disoriented as he seemed to sway slightly but remained firmly on his feet.
Jordan’s voice rang out. “ Slytherin scores once again ! Though more importantly, Archard appears to be okay after his fine example of bravery and chivalry!”
Professor McGonagall didn’t chide Jordan for his comments this time - she likely agreed with him.
Madame Hooch’s whistle sounded. “ Gryffindor time out! ”
Something happened as both Bludgers froze midair and hovered in place.
“What was that?” I asked, never having seen this before.
“Hooch cast a spell,” said Blaise.
“It’s similar to a stasis spell,” explained Theo, his hand still gripping mine. “It holds the Bludgers in place during a time out so they don’t try to hit anyone while they’re on the ground.”
“What I want to know is why are they only now halting things?” questioned Daphne - which was a very good question.
“It’s one of the rules of Quidditch. Matches are only halted for official time outs, otherwise they keep going until the Snitch is caught,” explained Blaise. “Hooch can’t even try to disenchant the Bludger as it would technically count as interfering.”
“But someone has already interfered since the Bludger has clearly been tampered with,” I pointed out.
“I mean, you’re not wrong,” agreed Blaise with a careless shrug. “But clearly the professors aren’t seeing it that way since they didn’t stop the match.”
“Though it is odd that Dumbledore isn’t trying to protect his golden boy,” Daphne pointed out. Overhead, the rain began to fall more heavily.
Madame Hooch suddenly blew her whistle twice, signalling the two teams to break apart and resume their positions on the pitch. I was slightly reassured to see Alaric hovering between the other two Gryffindor Chasers.
At the signal of Madame Hooch’s whistle, the game resumed as the players converged and took off once again. Unlike earlier though, Fred and George weren’t flying close to Potter. He was looping, spiralling, and zigzagging through the air intricately as he dodged the Bludger that was once again completely concentrated on knocking him off his broom.
It was both impressive and concerning to watch Potter maneuver away from the aggressive Bludger. Several students were laughing in the crowd. While some were snickering over how idiotic Potter appeared, others were reluctantly impressed as Potter continued to show a knack for maneuverability and flying techniques. Draco continued to fly and hover near Potter, his mouth moving as he was speaking, but the rain drowned out whatever he was saying - though it was likely taunts and mean quips aimed at Potter.
While the two Seekers remained high in the air, the rest of the players focused entirely on their part of the match. Gryffindor had managed to finally score, earning sixty points for their efforts; however, they were still behind Slytherin’s lead of ninety points.
“Warrington passes the Quaffle to Pucey who zooms straight for where Keeper Wood guards his goalposts. He throws - quickly dodging the rogue Bludger Potter once again evades. Wood misses. Slytherin scores! ”
I alternated between carefully watching Alaric fly back and forth across the pitch and Potter loop and swoop through the air. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as fear and worry continued to cause my stomach to churn uneasily.
“Flint attempts to steal the Quaffle from Bell of Gryffindor, but is cut off by Archard - nice defense Alaric!” cheered Jordan.
“ Jordan! ”
“Right, sorry. Anyways, Bell passes to Spinnet - Hang on, Potter is hovering. Has he spotted the Snitch?”
WHAM.
CRACK.
I winced as the sound of Potter’s arm breaking echoed across the pitch after the Bludger smashed into him.
“ Ouch~ , that had to hurt,” commented Jordan, saying exactly what we were all thinking. “But Potter stays on his broom as he swerves to avoid the Bludger’s next attack! He seems to be flying with purpose despite his injury. He’s heading right for Seeker Malfoy!”
As Potter got closer and closer to Draco, I wondered if he could even see Draco or if the Gryffindor was out of control. But then I caught the flash of gold and realized the Snitch was hovering just over and behind Draco’s shoulder, and he had yet to notice. Draco careened out of Potter’s way as Potter reached out with his non-injured arm, now flying without a single hand on his broom.
“Harry Potter has caught the Snitch!” yelled Jordan. “ Gryffindor wins! ”
Gryffindor roared in celebration while Slytherin all moaned in defeat. Meanwhile, Potter had completely collapsed into the mud off his broom, appearing to have lost all energy now that the match was officially over. I sighed in relief that it was finally over and leaned into Daphne’s side as I felt utterly drained. Would there ever be a normal Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match? I wondered to myself; though admittedly it was mostly just Potter, trouble always seemed to revolve around him. Perhaps there was something more to the gossip that Potter had brought misfortune to Hogwarts.
“Come on, let’s get out of this rain and dry up in the common room,” called out Theo as he picked up my banner - I hadn’t even realized I dropped at some point during the match.
“You guys can go ahead,” I said as we carefully made our way down the rain-slicked wooden steps. “I’m going to the hospital wing to check on my brother. Blaire will make sure he’ll get looked over even if she has to drag him by his ear.”
“I can go with you if you’d like,” offered Daphne.
“ Non , I’ll be fine, ma amie . Merci beaucoup, though.”
Once we reached the castle, I broke away from the throng of Slytherin students heading for the dungeons and made my way towards the hospital wing. Even if Alaric wasn’t there yet, I knew he’d be along eventually, so I was determined to wait however long was necessary. I needed to know if he was alright.
Once he was confirmed as being fine, then I would unleash the tears I was holding back. He had really scared me today, and I swore to Mother Magic Alaric would know how worried I was and he’d better apologize, or else I would unleash the watery eyed guilt trip. That was, if Blaire didn’t get to him first.
Oui = yes
Madame = Mrs
Non = no
Ma amie = my friend (female)
Merci beaucoup = thank you very much
Extra POVS
Oliver POV
As soon as Hooch blew her whistle for the time out, I abandoned the goalposts and flew straight to where ‘Laric was standing on the ground of the pitch. When I saw him take the hit for Harry, my heart lodged itself into my throat. I was completely distracted, allowing Warrington to easily score, as I stared at Alaric’s crumpled form.
It felt like eons before he staggered to his feet (clearly disoriented) and I remembered to breathe again. When I saw one of the Weasleys waving at me with the time out hand sign I didn’t hesitate to signal Hooch. We needed to regroup as a team, but mainly I needed to check on Alaric - very few people take a hit from a Bludger and are hunky-dory.
I quickly dismounted and supported ‘Laric’s weight to stop his slight swaying. “Alright there, mate?”
“ Oui , just a bit whirled from the fall. My side is a bit stiff, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”
Uncaring that we were in plain view of practically the entire school, I reached to lift Alaric’s robes to check on him, but he firmly halted my attempts. “Ollie, stop, I’m fine. I promise.”
I wasn’t ready to drop it, but the rest of the team landed and huddled up close to us and seeing the twins caused my worry to shift to anger. “What the bloody hell is going on?!” My grip on Alaric being the only thing keeping me from attempting to shake one or both of the redheaded twins. “Where were your heads when Alaric took a Bludger to his side?”
“We were stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver,” angrily replied the twin on the left. “Someone’s fixed it, it won’t leave Harry alone if you hadn’t noticed. It hasn’t gone after anyone else all match. The Slytherin’s must have done something to it.”
“The Bludgers were kept locked in Madam Hooch’s office since our last practice and none of the Slytherins have whipped their wands out - they don’t need to when they’re completely flattening us and you two aren’t doing your jobs!”
The other twin spoke up as he placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Look we’re sorry, Alaric, we didn’t see the second Bludger, but that other Bludger is scarily attentive towards Harry. It’s taking both of us to keep it from braining him.”
“I’m fine everyone, I can keep playing. I’ll take a bruised torso over Harry getting a concussion at best,” Alaric spoke up as he moved away from my hold, showing he could stand solidly on his own. “Oliver. Fred and George are right to protect Harry, he’s our only chance of winning the match at this point. If he gets taken out then we have no one to catch the Snitch.”
I was ready to argue back when Harry interrupted. “Listen, with the two of you flying around me all the time the only way I’m going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue Bludger.”
“Don’t be thick,” said the twin on the right. “It’ll take your head off!”
“I understand what you mean Harry, but you’ll be seriously risking your physical safety,” said Alaric, concern thickly colouring his voice.
I, however, was looking between Harry and the Weasleys. If Harry thought he could handle it, then we might just have a chance against Slytherin.
“Oliver, this is insane,” Alicia chimed in. “You can’t be considering this. Let’s just ask for an inquiry and-”
“-That would mean forfeiting the match because there’s zero possibility of Flint consenting to end the match!” I interrupted her, frustrated at the situation we were in. I didn’t want anyone else getting hurt, but I refused to admit defeat against Flint - that smarmy git.
“I agree with Oliver,” Harry said as pushed himself into the center of our huddle. “We’re not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger.” Harry rounded on me. “Come on, Oliver, let me do this. I can do it!”
“This is all your fault,” snapped the twin on the left. “You put all this pressure on him.”
Any further discussion was halted when Hooch blew her whistle twice in warning - we were running out of time. Staring into Harry’s determined green eyes, I made my decision. “All right, you all heard him. Fred, George, leave him alone and let him deal with Bludger on his own. This may be our only shot at winning this.”
The others grumbled their agreement and climbed back onto their brooms. Alaric quickly summoned his broom, but before I could join the others he grabbed my arm. Turning back towards him I saw the fist he was holding out. “Fly smart.”
Taking the reassurance he was offering, I met his fist with my own. “Fly fast.”
It was time to win.
Draco POV
The door to the locker room had barely closed before Marcus rounded on me, suddenly looking far bigger than he usually does. “What in Circe’s name was that?” he practically roared.
I flinched back at the sudden volume but steeled myself - I was Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, and Malfoys do not cower.
Flint didn’t wait for a response before he continued, though he did start pacing back and forth. “I know what that was - it was you letting your rivalry with Potter completely and utterly distract you during the match! The Snitch was bloody fluttering around your head and you still missed it, you didn’t even notice it!”
None of the other boys were paying us any mind, turning their backs to us as Marcus continued to lay into me.
“This should’ve been an easy victory! Somebody did us a favour spelling that Bludger to go after Potter. Yet you spurned the advantage given, and bloody wasted all that time you could’ve used to catch the Snitch to mock Potter!”
Marcus finally stopped shouting but remained just as worked up as his chest continued to rise and fall quickly. I wanted to defend myself against his words, but despite my stinging pride I knew he was right; I was distracted and stupidly wasted my opportunity to beat Potter. Father would be disappointed in me if he saw my performance today.
He suddenly turned his back to me. “Either get your act together or you’re off the team, Draco.” While his volume had greatly decreased, his words had hit harder.
The rest of the team completely left me alone after that, leaving me to change and return to the castle on my own. The entire time I stewed over Marcus’ words and what happened. I’d prove to him and everyone else I deserved to be on the team. But more importantly, I’d make Potter pay for embarrassing me yet again.
Alaric POV
When Harry managed to catch the Snitch despite the rogue Bludger breaking his arm, I was in full celebration mode with Ollie as we landed our brooms onto the grass of the Quidditch pitch. But all thoughts of celebration ended when a certain voice reached my ears over the cheers of the crowd.
“ Alaric Archard! ”
I winced at the tone she used but quickly schooled my face into a bright smile. “Bee, my beloved sister, we won!”
Sadly, Blaire was not in the mood and simply ignored me as she proceeded to start poking and prodding (quite harshly in my opinion) at various parts of my body. As if she knew it was there, she rather viciously poked the spot where the Bludger had hit me. I couldn’t help but hiss in pain while I winced and moved away from her.
“You’re injured!”
“It’s just a bruise, I swear!” I instantly refuted, hoping that my twin wouldn’t get herself any further worked up than she already was.
But it was all for naught when she grabbed my wrist and started dragging me off the pitch (Ollie followed silently behind, snickering - the traitor). “You’re seeing Madame Pomfrey this instant!”
Now I had more muscle and strength than Blaire and easily could have broken from her grasp, but I was by no means an idiot. There was no way I would anger my sister any further - she was already an angry lioness, and admittedly her concern for my well-being always warmed my heart. Despite what she may have been thinking, I was going to go get checked out, I simply didn’t think I needed to rush to the hospital wing for a bruise. I mean, it did hurt to breathe, but I’d had worse Quidditch injuries in the past and come out alright.
Even with me going along quietly, Bee continued to frog-march me all the way to the hospital wing. We were the first to arrive, though I expected Harry to be brought in shortly by the others for his arm. We were barely halfway into the room when Madame Pomfrey popped her head out of her office in the back.
“Oh dear.” She gestured to a nearby bed. “Sit down there.” Once I was seated, she took out her wand and began waving it around me. “Now what happened to you?”
“I was hit by a Bludger on my torso,” I answered calmly, gesturing slightly to my side, which was burning more than before - likely from the hike back to the castle.
“He was completely knocked off his broom, fell nearly one-hundred feet, and then was ‘gently’ landed by the Slowing Charm,” Blaire chimed in.
Madame Pomfrey made a tsking noise as she began to focus on my side.
“How is he?” asked Oliver.
“I’m fi-”
“Three ribs are cracked,” Madame Pomfrey interrupted with a deadpan tone that felt chiding.
I blinked in surprise.
“Deep breath.”
I barely had time to do so before she muttered, “ Episkey ,” and I started gasping out the collected air as I literally felt my ribs instantaneously heal.
Madame Pomfrey did one final swish of her wand before confirming that nothing else was wrong with me, though I had to lay down and wait for my ribs to set because freshly healed bones could easily be damaged again if someone so much as bumped into me. Thankfully, I wouldn’t need to spend the night and would be able to return to the common room in an hour or so.
Harry was quickly brought in with a large entourage of people who were all quickly shooed out by Madame Pomfrey, though Harry’s two friends were allowed to stay with him. Poor lad had the bones of his arm vanished by Lockhart. I did not envy him. If Lockhart ever came near me with his wand out, I would’ve socked him in the face Muggle-style.
Blaire left not long after, both reassured I was okay and on the mission to find Esme and reassure our sister that I was in good health. For this I was thankful - I honestly wouldn’t be able to handle any tears petite papillon may shed for me. As Quidditch players themselves, Carlisle and Dustin probably already knew I was alright, so I doubted I would see either of them, word of mouth or seeing me in the corridors would be enough for them.
I did notice that Blaire met one of the Weasley twins at the door (no doubt George), and it took all my self-control not to chase after them to make sure the hormonal boy didn’t lay his filthy hands any further on my sister.
Oliver remained at my side and had a faraway look in his eyes. With Madame Pomfrey checking over Harry and forcing Skele-o-grow down his throat, we were essentially left in our own little world. “Oi. You alright Ollie?”
He remained quiet for a moment longer before answering in a quiet voice. “I wanted to win, so badly , but I didn’t want anyone risking their lives for it.”
I instantly understood what was eating at him. “George was just worried about Harry, we all were, and that includes you. Yes, you were pumped up before the match and your determination got the best of you when you told Harry to win or die trying. But in no way did you pressure him to actually do so. Harry was just as determined to win, and while he isn’t the most vocal about things, when he does speak up, it’s always with what he truly feels or thinks.”
“But you were nearly seriously hurt. You risked yourself to protect Harry when I should’ve called for a time out the second I noticed that Bludger was acting off.”
I grasped Ollie’s hand tightly in mine from where it rested on the bed. “I did risk myself, but I chose to do that on my own. I saw the Bludger coming from above Harry and chose to intervene to save him from taking a Bludger to the head. And you handled the situation with the Bludger as best you could - it is not on you in any way. The professors or even the headmaster should’ve intervened with such clear tampering, but they chose not to. Harry’s and mine injuries are not on your shoulders. Besides, we all risk ourselves in some way to play - it’s a hazard which comes with such an exhilarating sport.”
Ollie’s shoulder sagged as the tension finally left his body. “Thanks, ‘Laric.”
“Anytime, and anything for you.”
Ollie broke the gentle silence. “Wanna sneak back to the common room?”
“Sweet Mother Magic, yes~,” I agreed enthusiastically.
We both shared a laugh before slowly making our way out of the hospital wing while Madame Pomfrey was yelling at the new crowd that had gathered around Harry’s bed.
Oui = yes
Madame = Mrs.
Petite papillon = little butterfly
Chapter 15: Worry, Fear, and Mayhem
Chapter Text
Esme POV
~Dream~
Dark. Darkness all around me. Almost nothing could be seen through the blackness, with no way to discern where I was; a room, a corridor, even outside, I couldn’t tell. Shutting my eyes made little difference, yet it awoke my other senses. The air felt cold and damp, and in the distance I heard the drip drop of water. I shivered, both from the cold and from fear. Something was out there.
A girl’s voice called out to me:
Do not fear the darkened pit, but only that which wanders it.
Hearing a noise behind me, my eyes snapped open and I turned, startled. Still I could not make anything out in the darkness. The same noise rang from my left. I shifted as my eyes frantically searched, yet I saw nothing, not even a hint of movement. Again I heard a noise. As my heart beat loudly in my chest, I turned.
The voice rang out once more:
Only its master it will obey, never to hesitate or betray.
I saw a shimmer through the dark. A creature stood before me, but nothing revealed what kind. I only knew that whatever it was, was gigantic. I was completely frozen, fear keeping me in place as I knew it was pointless to run. A deep hiss rumbled from the creature before me, drawing my eyes up, and up.
Suddenly the voice shouted:
Shut your eyes, shut them tight, for the gaze is as deadly as the bite!
But it was too late. There was a flash of fangs before the creature lunged; I screamed.
~End of Dream~
I awoke with a gasp, feeling my heart racing in my chest and my head pounding with an intense migraine. Despite not being able to recall what I dreamed about, I knew without a doubt that it was the nightmare once more. It was probably due to the Sleeping Draught potion as to why I couldn’t recall. I had yet to remember what seemed to be haunting me this term, but from the amount of terror – which was so much worse than last year – I knew I didn’t want to remember. I just wanted it to go away, to have one less thing to weigh heavily on my shoulders.
The day of the match, as I made my way to the hospital wing, Blaire had found me in the corridors and reassured me that Alaric would be alright. I could tell that she was just as shaken from the experience as I was with how she leaned into George’s arm that was wrapped around her shoulders. I had wanted to see Alaric myself but Blaire dissuaded the notion, as she was quite confident that Alaric would’ve snuck back to the Gryffindor common room by the time I’d reached the hospital wing. Blaire knew her twin the best, so I heeded her words and returned to my own common room despite my emotions still being a swirling mess.
I had barely settled down in a seat in our common room when Blaise quickly filled me in on what everyone was murmuring about. Apparently the Bludger had broken Potter’s arm but such a simple injury was made worse by Lockhart when he managed to vanish Potter’s bones instead of mending them. It was disgustingly impressive how badly he managed to screw up. Now Potter was stuck in the hospital wing overnight to have his bones painstakingly grown back. Even Draco, who never had positive thoughts on Potter, winced at the news.
I had thought things would improve after such a rough day, but things had only turned for the worst. The night after the match a student was found petrified in the corridors by patrolling professors. It was a First-Year Gryffindor, who Blaise was able to confirm was a Muggleborn. This attack, for it could only be an attack and not a prank, had made the danger very real. I hardly knew Colin Creevy, only that he was particularly attached to his Muggle photography and tended to annoy the Upper-Years with his earnest energy. Yet he, nor anyone else, didn’t deserve to be petrified.
In the days following what happened to Creevy, many students began buying themselves talismans, amulets, and other protective charms in fear of becoming the Heir of Slytherin’s next victim - if whoever was doing this wasn’t found and stopped, there was little doubt now that there would be another attack.
Many thought we in Slytherin House had nothing to worry about. We all managed to keep a calm exterior (some even took it a bit too far and looked far too blasé and cheerful about the topic), but strife was being sowed within the safety of our common room. Blood status had taken the forefront of many conversations, with anyone being less than what the British considered Pureblood now being socially excluded and held at a distance.
I hadn’t been aware (because I didn’t care one bit) that Tracey Davis was a Halfblood until Parkinson and Bulstrode began to completely ignore the poor girl. Parkinson even had the nerve to imply that Davis could be a target for the monster and didn’t want to be targeted through association. Cara and Garrett had outright said those considered ‘enemies’ of Salazar Slytherin were Magicals who came from Muggle households, which Davis most certainly was not.
Daphne and I could only stand a day of seeing Davis wilt after her so-called friends abandoned her before we approached her. We simply offered for her to study with us, yet she completely lit up like Janette did when she was particularly happy. Since then, Tracey had slowly begun to levitate towards Daphne and I. She still remained quite shy, with mostly Daphne and I dominating the conversations, but she was cautiously opening up to us. I think she half-expected us to suddenly shun her like Parkinson and Bulstrode did.
While the Halfbloods could at least band together in some instances, poor Lucian Bole (heartlessly outed as a Muggleborn by his once friends), was completely cut off from everyone. When it first became common knowledge, Blaise had said the other Fifth-Year boys had kicked Lucian from their dormitory, with some other Upper-Years even trying to bar him from the common room. However, Professor Snape quickly put an end to such behaviors and made it clear that during an impromptu House meeting that no Slytherin, regardless of blood status, would be blocked from the common room or their bed. Anyone caught doing so would be granted the separation they desired and be expelled from Hogwarts.
Despite the newfound tension simmering through the air, life and classes continued on as normal. Now a few weeks later, lunch was filled with the normal chatter of school life. Amongst my fellow Slytherin Second-Years the main topic of discussion was the upcoming double Potions class with Gryffindor this afternoon.
While most of the others loathe Potions for various reasons, I quite enjoyed the subject overall. Yes, Granger continued to be a Know-It-All, but Professor Snape didn’t indulge her like most of the other professors did. Each lesson, Professor Snape demonstrated his immense knowledge of the art of potion making. I always felt both challenged and like I was learning things at the same time – and my efforts always seemed to be rewarded with various Exceeds Expectations and Outstandings left on my coursework.
Today was a brewing day, so Daphne and I once again grouped together to work on our latest assignment. Thankfully, Goyle continued to partner with Tracey without issue, though that may have more to do with the fact he would be failing the class if it weren’t for Tracey’s own brewing skills. Each of the twenty different pairs were hard at work brewing the Swelling Solution with Professor Snape floating between the various wooden stations, remarking here and there on students’ work.
As usual he had more waspish things to say about the Gryffindors’ efforts than the Slytherins’, but such a thing had become almost normal at this point. Daphne and I had managed to finish brewing our Swelling Solution, so Professor Snape was inspecting our potion as he stood behind us for the required criteria. While to my eyes the potion looked right, I couldn’t help but wring my hands a little as I waited for his verdict. Going by the slight upward curl of his lips, I believe he was pleased with our efforts.
Suddenly, there was an explosion from behind us. Daphne and I both screamed as we huddled together in fear. I half-expected to be hit by something, but the only thing I felt was Professor Snape’s large frame looming over us.
Screams of panic and cries of pain chorused around us. Professor Snape moved away, allowing Daphne and I (still clinging to each other) to see the aftereffects of whatever had happened. Crabbe’s and Draco’s cauldron had been the cause of the explosion, raining their brewed potion down upon nearly half of the students in the classroom, leaving various parts of their bodies to rapidly swell up like balloons.
Everyone was panicking as the classroom descended into chaos. Daphne shrieked when Crabbe bumped into her as he ran past with his hands over his eyes, which had swelled to the size of dinner plates. Poor Draco also must’ve gotten a face full of the potion, as half of his face and nose were equally as large.
“ Silence! SILENCE! ” roared Professor Snape over the yelling and screaming. His commanding voice got everyone’s attention as the blind panic receded, leaving only a few sniffles of tears and the whimpers of pain from those most affected by the Swelling Solution. “Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft.”
Everyone who was affected made their way as quickly as they could up to Professor Snape’s desk - many were weighed down by limbs as large as clubs, or even were drooping at various angles from puffed up body parts. As Daphne and I remained huddled against our brewing station, I was grateful Professor Snape was near and protected us from sharing the fate of our classmates. Poor Tracey’s head was completely ducked against her chest from the weight of her swollen up nose and lips which were the size of small melons.
When everyone had taken a sip of the antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Professor Snape quickly swept over to Crabbe’s and Draco’s cauldron to inspect it. Crabbe had likely taken a turn at brewing and added the wrong ingredient because Draco was far too skilled of a brewer to make a mistake like this.
However, my thought was quickly disproved when we all saw Professor Snape scooped the twisted black remains of a firework out of what remained of the ruined cauldron. A sudden hush fell over the classroom as everyone realized the explosion was no accident. I was horrified - who was cruel enough to do this?
“If I ever find out who threw this,” Professor Snape whispered in a deadly serious voice as his eyes barely roamed over everyone before settling on Potter and Weasley. “I shall make sure that person or persons are expelled.”
My own eyes settled on the two Gryffindors. While it was obvious that Professor Snape had a particular dislike for Potter, Potter appeared suspicious to my eyes. Of all things Potter appeared puzzled, but it was clearly fake as his eyes did not match - there was guilt shining in his eyes. Adding in Weasley looking disgustingly pleased with himself left no doubt in my mind that they were behind this.
Part of me wanted to believe that Weasley was once again physically lashing out at Draco for his insulting quips, but there was this nagging feeling in my chest that it was not Weasley who was the one to actually throw the firework into the cauldron. That feeling caused my heart to clench painfully; Potter was now taking a more active role in the animosity fuelled rivalry between him and Draco. He couldn’t have done anything more boldly to declare it so than by taking such a risk in the classroom of the professor who would punish him most severely if he had any proof of Potter’s actions.
The silent stand-off ended when the bell rang, causing both Daphne and I to jump at the sudden noise. “I expect everyone to submit two feet of parchment explaining the intricate brewing process of the Deflating Draft by next class. Class dismissed,” declared Professor Snape before he turned on his heel and stalked away into his office in the front of the classroom.
Daphne and I quickly gathered our things, leaving behind our potion filled cauldron for the house-elves to clean up, before hurrying out of the classroom with everyone else. We paused and waited against the wall for Tracey to exit, and when she did I saw she was still shaken from the incident. She appeared wound tight and her eyes remained firmly fixated on the floor.
Daphne seemed to notice as well as she tentatively asked, “Would you like to go see Madam Pomfrey for a Calming Draught, Tracey?”
“If it’s not a bother,” Tracey whispered, sagging as some of the tension left her shoulders.
“Not at all,” reassured Daphne. “I’d gladly go with you.”
“Me too,” I agreed, “You’re our friend.”
My simple declaration made Tracey’s eyes snap up. “R-really?” she questioned.
“ Oui , ma amie ,” I agreed with a gentle, genuine smile.
“Truly,” Daphne also agreed. However, her smile then turned a little impish. “Actually Esme, why don’t you go ahead to your study session, I can go escort our dear Tracey myself.”
“ Hein ? Non , this is more important, and I doubt my study partner will even show up today.”
“Trust me, Esme. He’ll be there and likely need you. Don't worry, we’ll be fine and will see you later.”
It still didn’t feel right to abandon Tracey at this moment, but now I was concerned with how Neville was handling what happened - he had been among the students affected by the potion.
Tracey spoke up. “If someone needs you, you should go.”
Seeing the earnestness shining in her eyes, I felt my hesitation vanish. “Alright then.”
“Be sure to give him a hug, I’m sure he’d love that,” Daphne teased.
“ Le taire !” I sputtered before walking away to escape Daphne’s teasing. I didn’t know if she was doing it to take Tracey’s mind off things or simply to tease me, but either way I did not want to endure any more of it.
I sped walked all the way to the library, only slowing down once I reached its double doors. Madame Pince was situated at her desk like normal. She was quick to remind me to keep quiet as this was a library and not a common room. I softly acknowledged her before making my way to Neville and mine’s chosen table.
True to Daphne’s words, Neville was already there waiting for me. Like Tracey when she exited the classroom, Neville appeared rattled from the incident. I was glad I listened to Daphne and came here - he also needed a friend right now.
“ Bonjour , Neville,” I greeted as I settled into the chair next to him, as he hadn’t appeared to notice my approach.
He was startled a bit and blinked a few times before focusing on me. “Oh, hey, Esme.”
I placed my hand on his own that was resting on the arm of his wooden chair. “Are you alright after…”
“Y-yeah, I’m okay,” he replied unconvincingly before forcing a chuckle. “At least it w-wasn’t me this time, r-right?”
I winced at his attempted humour and decided that perhaps I should just change the subject. “If it’s okay, I was hoping we could review the Herbology assignment for this week,” I proposed as I removed my hand from his to take out the materials I needed. “I’m still confused over how to make this taxonomic tree Professor Sprout asked for.”
“Oh yeah, no problem,” he agreed, perking up from his hunched position. Neville quickly dug through his own bag and took out a blank piece of parchment and his writing equipment. Without stuttering once, Neville proceeded to explain the assignment to me before helping guide me through doing it, giving leading examples yet still making me come up with my own answers.
Now I actually understood this assignment for once, but like I planned, the more Neville talked about Herbology, the quicker the tension left him. However, halfway through, I realized there was a nasty smell in the air and it wasn’t until I saw Neville fiddling with something around his neck did I realize the smell was coming from him, or more precisely, what he was wearing around his neck.
We were nearly done when I finally asked about his strange necklace. “Neville, what in Hecate’s name are you wearing around your neck?”
Neville glanced down, letting go of the pointed purple crystal he had been fidgeting with. It fell against his chest next to the rotting green onion and newt tail as his cheeks burned scarlet all the way to his ears. “O-oh, they’re p-protection t-talismans…”
“Neville…you know you probably don’t need those. You’re not the preferred target for whoever the Heir of Slytherin is.” I didn’t bother saying he wasn’t in danger because I felt we were all in danger. But the so-called ‘enemies of the heir’ were in the most immediate danger and Neville was far from who Garrett and Cara said were Slytherin’s described ‘enemies’.
“I k-know that…I just…I just thought they w-wouldn’t hurt. Everyone knows I’m not the b-best at magic, and…they make me f-feel less scared to roam the corridors…”
“I can understand the feeling, but I’d maybe try a protective charm because the onion and newt tail are starting to stink.”
He appeared surprised to hear that and reached down to sniff. His nose curled instantly and quickly scrambled to remove the two cords from around his neck. “M-Merlin’s pants! I h-hadn’t noticed that! How c-could I not notice?”
“I guess you just got used to it.”
“Thanks for telling me.”
“ De rien .” After a pause, I then offered, “If you’d like, I could make you a protective charm?”
“R-really?”
“Oui.”
“Then y-yeah, I’d l-like that, E-Esme,” he stuttered as his cheeks managed to burn even redder than before. “Thank you.”
I felt the warm glow of happiness that always bubbled up when I spent time with Neville, or any of my other friends. It felt nice after all the stressful things that happened lately. I knew I would need to find more of these moments, and when I did to savour them, because I felt it in my very magic that things were going to get worse before they got better.
Oui = yes
Ma amie = my friend (female)
Hein = what?
Non = no
Le taire = shut it!
Madame = Mrs.
Bonjour = hello
De rien = you’re welcome
Chapter 16: Disastrous Duelling Club
Chapter Text
Esme POV
It only took me a few days to finish the protective charm for Neville, one that wouldn't rot since it was made of wood and cloth just like the one I made for Alaric last Yule. Neville simply needed to have it on him somewhere - so he could hide it away in his pocket if he wanted to avoid anyone trying to tease him for having it in the first place. Once I finished it I made sure to drop it on his desk during one of the many classes Slytherin shared with Gryffindor.
Only Daphne and Tracey knew about the charm I made for Neville. Daphne even helped me test it to ensure that it worked (I only used the Tickling Charm on her, but still, the protective charm completely blocked the spell). However, Daphne had told Tracey who the charm was for and soon both were giggling together, making me regret in that moment accepting Tracey as a friend. Daphne really didn't need any help teasing me over my friendship with Neville.
As December started getting closer, Professor Snape made his way through the common room and dormitories collecting the names of anyone staying at Hogwarts over winter break. It was a relatively fast process since hardly anyone chose to do so. It sounded like almost everyone went home to celebrate Yule with their families, be they close or distant relatives.
I was really looking forward to Yule this year. Ernie felt more like family now and I knew we'd have much more fun together when he and Uncle Reginald came over again. I was also excited to see the joy on my siblings' faces when they opened the presents I got for them this year - I was feeling particularly proud of a couple of them.
In addition to Yule, there was the Winter Ball to think about. I had a lot of fun last year (despite the few small incidents), and I knew I would have just as much, if not more, fun this year. I was especially hopefully-excited to see if Blaire would bring her boyfriend along - seeing George Weasley in such a formal setting would be an interesting sight. Still, Blaire hadn't admitted or denied yet if she'd asked Papa for permission, so I was left to wait in anticipation for the news.
All thoughts of the approaching break were pushed from my mind when a few days later a new announcement appeared on the notice board in the entrance hall of the castle. To my surprise, Hogwarts was bringing back its Duelling Club, with the first meeting that very night. I knew without a doubt all my siblings would attend, though I was sure Blaire in particular was looking forward to it. She was a skilled dueller (the best of my older siblings) if her exploits at Beauxbatons were anything to go by.
"I would love to attend the meeting tonight," said Daphne during lunch. "My parents haven't really let my tutor teach me much duelling yet."
"I'd like to go too," I agreed. "I don't know much about formal duelling, but my older sister has taught me a few defensive spells. She was one of the top duellers in Beauxbatons' Duelling Club."
Tracey swallowed her juice before asking, "I wonder who will be teaching it?"
"It has to be Professor Flitwick, he's a Master Duellist. He won the World Duelling Championship five years in a row back in the 60s," said Theo.
"I don't know, mate," Blaise interjected before Theo could continue his fan-rant. "A little birdy told me that not too many Ravens will be at the meeting tonight."
"Draco had mentioned to me that the club was previously cancelled because Professor Flitwick didn't have the time to spare since he's so busy being Head of Ravenclaw House. I mean, he is also the Charms professor and even directs the Frog Choir," I added.
"As long as it's not Professor Idiot teaching," commented Theo before taking a drink of his water.
Daphne shivered beside me. "There's no way the other professors would let him teach us duelling, not after what he did to Potter's arm after the Quidditch match."
"It's not like he'll be using magic on us right?" asked Tracey. "I mean, maybe he can still teach us techniques at least?"
"I don't trust anything that nibbering nonce has to say about anything," Theo said with a sneer. "If he is the one teaching then I'm walking straight out."
"That's a bit drastic there, mate. Honestly, I'd want to stay just to enjoy the free entertainment of watching Lockhart bumble about," Blaise replied with a sharp smirk. "The way I see it, we'll either get a competent professor and learn a lot, or get the most incompetent Magical in the country and laugh until our sides ache."
"So we're all going then tonight?" Daphne asked.
"Oui," I answered for all of us.
The rest of the day passed quickly and before we knew it, it was almost eight o'clock. We all quickly made our way back to the great hall. Inside, the long dining tables had been removed, replaced with a golden stage along one wall which reflected the thousands of candles still floating over our heads.
The hall was already quite full of various groups of students milling about, each with their wands already out and excitedly chatting. Though, like Blaise had told us earlier, I noticed that there were few Ravenclaw students in attendance. Looking over the various coloured ties, the majority of the students were actually Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. I did manage to spot Carlisle and Dustin in a large group of Hufflepuff students, but I had yet to see Alaric and Blaire, though I knew they had to be here.
Soon enough the bell tolled, signalling it was eight o'clock. When the last bell rang, the doors of the great hall opened, and walking through dramatically was Lockhart, dressed in eye-catching deep plum robes and wearing a cape, of all things. Theo groaned while Blaise snickered - a learning-less but entertaining experience it was.
I blinked in surprise when I saw Professor Snape enter shortly behind Lockhart, stalking towards the stage in his usual fashion. Seeing him I had some hope that perhaps we would actually learn something, though I was mostly reassured that Professor Snape would at least ensure that Lockhart wouldn't injure any students (again).
Lockhart made it to the center of the golden stage and waved his arm for silence. "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!" He then began to pace a bit up and down the stage as he spoke. "Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves, as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details see my published works."
I rolled my eyes as Lockhart took off his cape and tossed it into a group of Upper-Year girls (the one catching looked too grossly excited about it); always the bragging egotist.
"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile at us. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
"Professor Snape's going to wipe the floor with him," whispered Blaise between his snickers. "Look at his face! He looks ready to hex Lockhart's hair off!"
We all quietly laughed in agreement - Professor Snape's upper lip was so curled we could see it from three rows back from the stage. The fact that Lockhart was still smiling without a care just continued to show how much of a brainless idiot he was.
Professor Snape and Lockhart soon stood face to face in the center of the stage. They each raised their wands in front of their faces so the tops were facing straight up to the ceiling. Then at almost the same time they dropped their wand arms to their sides. With an over-the-top twirl of his hands, Lockhart bowed while Professor Snape simply jerked his head down, not even bothering to hide his irritation.
"That was the first step to be taken in a formal duel to both acknowledge and show respect to your opponent," announced Lockhart, a slight ring of displeasure in his voice - seemed he actually noticed Professor Snape's show of 'respect'.
Both wizards then turned on their heels and walked five paces away from each other along the golden stage before turning to face each other once again. Each then assumed a different form from the other. Professor Snape had his wand arm raised over his head while his non-wand arm was pointed straight out, all while he kept his body facing sideways. Opposite of him, Lockhart had his wand arm in front of him while bending at the elbow and had his non-wand arm resting against his hip while he also kept his body facing sideways.
"As you can see, we are holding our wands in accepted combative positions," Lockhart told the silent crowd.
I honestly didn't think Lockhart's was a very good position to take as it looked like he put his wand arm in an awkward position to cast from. It certainly was a showy stance though, which seemed like his style.
"One the count of three," continued Lockhart, "we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill of course."
"Think he just tempted Professor Snape," Theo muttered under his breath. I had to agree, as Professor Snape was practically baring his teeth at Lockhart.
"One…Two…Three!"
Without missing a beat, Professor Snape gracefully stepped forward while twisting his wand as he called out "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was quickly blasted off his feet. He flew backwards with a yell of surprise as his wand came shooting out his hand.
Thump! Fwomp.
Lockhart had landed hard on his back before sliding further along the stage, nearly falling off the edge. We, along with several other students, laughed and snickered at the pathetic display as Lockhart unsteadily got to his feet.
"An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape. All according to plan witches and wizards," said Lockhart as he trotted closer to his original position on the stage. "That was the Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand…" he trailed off as he looked around. "Ah, yes, thank you Miss Brown."
With his wand back in his possession, Lockhart quickly walked back to the center of the stage where Professor Snape stood with a small but pleased smile on his otherwise bored looking face. "Now it was very obvious what Professor Snape was about to do. If I wanted to stop him it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let you all see the spell in action!"
Professor Snape's face hardened. If he'd had the thought to murder Lockhart before, it was more of an urge now with the fury burning hot in his dark eyes.
Perhaps Lockhart also noticed the reaction his words had garnered because he quickly added, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me…"
Both wizards climbed down from the stage and began slowly moving through the crowd matching up partners. Lockhart reached us and the other Slytherins before Professor Snape did. "Alright now, girls, why don't you all partner up."
My eye twitched in annoyance at his remark but still I obeyed as Lockhart quickly listed off who he wanted to be together. Daphne ended up with Tracey, while I was paired with Parkinson. I was looking forward to this, and going by the determined glint in Parkinson's eyes, she was too.
"Mr. Malfoy, come over here," Professor Snape's commanding voice rang out over the murmuring students.
Draco hurried over to where Professor Snape was standing near Potter, Granger, and Weasley. "Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger, you can partner with Miss Bulstrode."
While I wasn't sure the amount of duelling experience Bulstrode had, she certainly would hold nothing back and would likely try to embarrass Granger. Seeing Granger actually attempt to smile at Bulstrode confirmed that she had no idea of the slumbering dragon that was likely about to awaken.
It took a couple more minutes for Lockhart and Professor Snape to divide up the rest of the students, but eventually they were done and Lockhart climbed back up onto the stage. "It's time to begin! Face your partners," he called out. "And bow!"
Across from me, Parkinson's lip curled as she clearly made herself give me a proper bow. Just to anger her further I purposely didn't bow as deep as I probably should've. I smirked in amusement when I saw her clench her teeth.
"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. Parkinson and I both assumed the position Professor Snape had demonstrated. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them! We don't want any accidents. One…Two…Three-"
"Protego!" - "Mordeo!"
I was glad I started casting a bit early because Parkinson barely waited for Lockhart to finish saying three before she sent a Stinging Hex right at my face. Thankfully the Shield Charm that Blaire taught me worked wonderfully, stopping the spell from reaching me and thus saving me from extreme pain of taking that particular spell in a very painful location.
Not waiting for Parkinson to try again I quickly flourished my wand in the proper movement. "Petrificus Totalus!" A purple light shot out of my wand and hit Parkinson square in the chest. Her limbs instantly snapped together and she fell to the ground completely paralyzed and unable to move. I hadn't felt confident I could successfully cast the Disarming Charm after only seeing it once, so I went with something I knew would work. It did also help that the Body Freezing Spell caused Parkinson to embarrassingly fall onto the floor instead of simply being frozen in place by the Freezing Charm.
"I said disarm only!" shouted Lockhart. I turned, ready to tell him I wasn't properly taught to use the Disarming Charm, only to see he wasn't actually speaking to me. His eyes were firmly fixed on Potter and Draco.
Draco was on his knees and was gasping for breath before he sent a spell at Potter, who was just standing there. When Potter's legs began to jerk around in frenzied quickstep dance I knew Draco had used the Dancing Feet Charm on him.
"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but he was once again ignored as Potter seemed to be attempting to cast another spell.
Professor Snape, however, took charge. "Finite Incantatem!" he shouted, causing a haze of greenish smoke to fill the entire room. As it cleared, I noticed that everyone had stopped duelling, as all spells that had been cast were now broken. Potter's feet stopped dancing, Draco stopped laughing, and Parkinson was getting to her feet as her face was almost purple in her anger and embarrassment.
However, my eyes were soon locked on Granger and Bulstrode because they were the only pair to not to stop, but they weren't even duelling, they were actually fighting. To my shock, both girls' wands laid forgotten on the floor as Bulstrode had Granger in what appeared to be a painful headlock. I almost couldn't believe what I was seeing; a daughter of a Magical Noble House was fighting the Muggle way and was winning. Where in the Magical World had she learned how to do that?
While Potter tried to pull Bulstrode off Granger, he was not having any success - she was bigger than he was (and apparently stronger). Bulstrode only let go when Professor Snape snapped at her from nearby, "Bulstrode! Cease your undignified behavior!"
With that strange event over, I noticed that several students appeared to be injured or roughed up in various ways with only a few like myself looking completely fine. Lockhart was skittering through the crowd, checking over the aftermath of each of the duells. Having everyone just go for it all at once definitely hadn't been a good idea.
My eyes locked on Ernie across the hall who was getting helped to his feet by Lockhart. I worried for my cousin when I saw him wince when he put weight on his one foot. He almost fell over again when Lockhart hurried away to check on another student but I sighed in relief when his friend Finch-Fletchley quickly caught him and helped him stay on his feet.
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered and appearing overwhelmed in the midst of the great hall.
I scoffed to myself as I moved over to stand with my friends once again - genius idea there, idiot.
Lockhart glanced at Professor Snape, as if to beg for help. But seeing the gleeful glint appear in Professor Snape's eyes, I think Lockhart thought better of it as he quickly looked away (smart too, as Professor Snape likely would've used Lockhart as target practice). "So," he said, his voice slightly strained, but he quickly cleared his throat. "Let's have a volunteer pair…um…Potter! Weasley, how about you?"
"Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest of spells as it's nearly broken if you recall," interrupted Professor Snape before either boy could move from their spots. "We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox."
Weasley's wand really should be confiscated from him - he was a walking hazard with it.
"Might I suggest Malfoy and Potter?" Professor Snape suggested with a small smirk.
I raised my brow when Professor Snape once again set Draco and Potter against each other. This could only end badly. With an audience now watching him, Draco wouldn't hold back and would show off, likely casting spells Potter had never heard of thanks to the duelling instructor he had over the summer break.
"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing for the two young wizards to climb onto the golden stage.
Both boys quickly climbed up with Lockhart going over to Potter's side when Professor Snape walked to Draco without a word. The rest of us all gathered around the stage once again to watch.
"Potter's doomed," muttered Theo.
"Agreed," said Blaise, while Crabbe and Goyle snickered.
"I'd bet ten galleons Draco defeats Potter with a single spell!" cooed Parkinson.
Deciding to give Potter some benefit of the doubt, I said, "Potter has shown he can take a hit, I think there's going to be some back and forth before Draco wins." And Draco would win, since Lockhart was currently failing to teach Potter anything, dropping his wand after performing a strange wiggling movement.
"You're on!" Parkinson determinedly said as she rounded back to face me.
"Alright girls," said Blaise, looking very amused. "You have to shake on it to make it a real bet."
"Ça m'est égal," I said with a careless tone.
Parkinson's pug-nose scrunched up in confusion. "What?"
"It doesn't matter," I replied and held out my hand - I really didn't care if we made this a real bet or not.
"Fine!" declared Parkinson as we shook hands once before each of us let go as if burnt.
"Let us begin!" announced Lockhart. "First step, face each other."
Draco and Potter walked away from their respective instructors and faced each other in the center of the stage.
"Now, wands at the ready!" commanded Lockhart.
Both boys raised their wands in front of their faces.
"Scared, Potter?" asked Draco.
"You wish," replied Potter.
"And bow!" called out Lockhart, but both Second-Years ignored him as they turned away from each other after dropping their wands to their sides. Tensions were definitely high as everyone waited in bated breath for what was about to happen.
"On the count of three, cast your charms," ordered Lockhart. "But remember, keep things clean."
Both wizards assumed Professor Snape's duelling position and then waited. The entire hall was completely silent.
"Three…Two…One…go!"
Draco flicked his wand and bellowed, "Everte Statum!" The end of his wand exploded with orange light.
Potter attempted to do something with his wand but nothing happened and soon he was hit with Draco's spell and sent twirling backwards.
Thud!
Potter landed in a heap just shy of smacking into where Lockhart was standing at the end of the stage. Gasps and laughter broke the silence. However, Potter wasn't done, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. He barely assumed proper position before shouting, "Locomotor Mortis!"
However, Draco appeared ready for Potter's attempt as he held his wand sideways and successfully blocked the red-coloured spell. It appeared Draco's summer lessons had borne fruit. Draco had a wide smirk on his face as he quickly raised his wand. "Serpensortia!"
The end of his wand exploded. My eyes widened in shock as a long black snake shot out of Draco's wand and landed onto the stage between the duelling Second-Years. Several of the students who were closest to the stage backed away with screams as the snake raised itself up, ready to strike.
"Don't move, Potter," said Professor Snape lazily as he strolled towards the snake. "I'll get rid of it for you."
"Allow me, Professor Snape!" Lockhart suddenly exclaimed. He hurried forward to stand in front of Potter before brandishing his wand at the snake. "Alarte Ascendare!" However, instead of vanishing the snake like I was hoping for, the snake flew ten feet into the air before falling back to the floor.
Smack!
The snake was now clearly enraged as it hissed furiously. It raised itself again, fangs fully exposed this time, poised to strike as it turned its head left and right.
Potter quickly stalked past a hesitating Lockhart and suddenly spoke in a strange language, hissing on all the 's' noises he made. I froze in shock when the snake stood straight up at attention before it started slithering towards a student near the edge of the stage. It was Finch-Fletchley, who stood in front of Ernie being supported by Abbott.
Potter got even closer to the snake as he seemed to try to stare down the snake as he continued to speak in the strange language, which I realized could only be Parseltongue. I didn't dare move, worried even the slightest bit of moment would set off the snake into striking, yet my mind raced over the fact that Potter was somehow a Parselmouth.
The snake hadn't tried to strike at Finch-Fletchley yet, but it was worryingly swaying back and forth in front of him.
"Vipera Evanesca," Professor Snape interjected, striking the snake with orange spell-light which quickly burnt the snake away into nothing but a puff of black smoke.
I felt as if I could breathe again with the deadly looking snake now gone. Looking over at Potter, he finally was looking away from where the snake had been but had a large grin on his face. However, he was the only one who was amused by what just happened.
"What are you playing at?" snapped Finch-Fletchley, his voice riddled with anger and fear. Before Potter could say anything, the Hufflepuff stormed out of the hall with Ernie, Abbott, and several other Hufflepuffs following after him.
Whispers and mutters soon filled the silent hall, everyone mulling over what just happened - things did not look good for Potter. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth, a well-known fact that even I knew before coming to Hogwarts. For Potter to share this ability was not good for him when students already suspected him of being the heir of Slytherin.
Weasley actually did a smart thing for once and quickly grabbed Potter, dragging him off the stage. Everyone near them cleared away, as if afraid that a single touch would cause Potter to lash out at them. Weasley then easily took Potter out of the great hall, Granger hurrying along after them.
"Did that really just happen?" asked Daphne.
"Oui…" I said as I stared at the backs of the retreating trio.
"But he can't be," commented Tracey. "It's not possible."
"Somehow, it is," said Theo with a look of deep thought. "Blaise?"
"I've got nothing on this one," he replied, shock blatantly showing on his face and in his voice.
"Merde."
Oui = yes
Ça m'est égal = I don't care
Merde = shit
Extra POV
Ernie POV
After the disaster of a duelling club meeting, all anyone could talk about was Potter being a Parselmouth and the Heir of Slytherin. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I would've doubted Potter had it in him to goad a deadly snake into attacking anyone, let alone Justin who was one of the kindest boys in our Year. It had been frightening to witness. But what truly made my blood freeze in my veins was when Justin admitted to me back in our dormitory that Potter knew he was a Muggleborn; he'd told Potter himself before Mrs. Norris was attacked.
I was terrified that what happened meant Potter had marked Justin as his next victim, as was Justin. He needed little convincing to stay in the safety of our dormitory on Monday. Sure our common room entrance didn't have a password like the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms, but students surprisingly struggled to tap out the correct rhythm. If you were off by even the slightest bit, then the barrel lid wouldn't open.
I was fully prepared to take extensive notes for Justin for all the classes he'd miss, but thankfully, our double Herbology lesson was cancelled due to bad weather so that Professor Sprout and our Seventh-Year Housemates could bundle up the mandrakes. With no class, Hannah and I decided to head to the library to finish what work we had so Justin could copy it later. We planned to meet up with him afterwards so we could escort him safely to the great hall for lunch.
Hannah had just asked if it was really necessary for Justin to hide away from Potter. She really was too sweet to even give Potter a sliver of support after he almost had a snake attack Justin.
"Of course it's necessary for Justin to hide! You saw what happened too. If Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Justin actually told Potter he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of information you bandy about with Slytherin's heir, is it?"
"You definitely think it is Potter then, Ernie?" she asked anxiously.
"Hannah," I said solemnly, "He's a Parselmouth, just like Salazar 'Serpent-Tongue' Slytherin himself. You know as well as any of us in High Society that Slytherin's descendants were the only British Magicals to be born with the ability to speak Parseltongue. It's a hereditary gift, so Potter's got to be related to Slytherin somehow."
"I understand that, I do, but it is just as possible that Potter perhaps got the ability from someone else in his family tree?" Hannah gently argued. "It may be an uncommon ability, but Slytherin wasn't the only Parselmouth to exist. Some are noted to live in Africa completely unrelated to Slytherin's family line."
"But think back. Remember what was written on the wall?" I pushed, not willing to let Hannah make excuses for Potter. "'Enemies of the Heir, Beware'. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch's cat is attacked. That First-Year, Creevey, was annoying Potter since the Start of Term Banquet, taking pictures of him and constantly hovering at his heels. Next thing we know, Creevey's been attacked."
"He always seems so nice though," she said with uncertainty. "And well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"
I lowered my voice, not wanting any of the other students at the other study tables to hear, and Hannah leaned in closer. "I don't know if you remember this, but last year we were spending the afternoon in the courtyard at the same time as Potter and Ronald Weasley. Weasley was ranting about how bad the Slytherins in our Year were, mostly about Heir Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, but he also mentioned my cousin Esme. He didn't have anything nice to say about her. And the entire time Potter just nodded along to Weasley, agreeing with everything he was saying as he polished his broomstick."
I paused, old shame welling up inside my chest. I took a breath as I shoved it back down. "I believed that if the defeater of You-Know-Who agreed that Esme was a two-faced bully who laughs at other people's pain and doesn't have a kind word for anyone, then it had to be true. When Father told me we would be spending Yule with my Archard cousins, I was completely scared of meeting her and being on the receiving end of her ill-treatment during one of my favorite holidays."
"Ernie…"
"For most of the evening, I treated her like she was a literal snake about to strike when she did absolutely nothing to deserve such treatment. Sweet Mother Magic, I even accused her of being two-faced right to her face when we happen to be alone. It wasn't until she pointed out I was being just as rude as my father with hurt tears in her eyes that I realized my mistake. I let my assumptions of what I heard colour my opinion of a family member."
"I'm sorry that happened, I really am, but clearly you two were able to move past it. So what does all that have to do with Potter?"
"It shows that Potter is as prejudiced as he and Weasley accuse all Slytherins of being. And if Potter can blindly hate all Slytherins simply for being sorted into their House, then what's to stop him from blindly hating Muggleborns simply because they're from Muggle households. And besides, no one knows how he survived when You-Know-Who attacked his family. I mean, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted to smithereens. He's either a really powerful wizard, maybe even a Dark wizard, or something else saved him that night. Still, it makes you wonder if Potter's got any other abilities he's hiding away. I mean, he hid he was a Parselmouth-"
Cough. Cough. Cough.
Hannah and I both whipped around in surprise at the sudden interruption. I felt the blood freeze in my veins when Potter stepped out behind the bookshelves looking furious. I wasn't even sure I was breathing as I could barely think beyond the thought - bloody hell Potter's going to make an exception and murder me with his pet monster right here.
"Hello, I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley," Potter had the gall to say.
All my fears had been confirmed - Potter had marked Justin. The terror that had froze me was quickly melted by protective anger, as I utterly refused to let Potter think I'd help him petrify or murder my best friend. "You have some nerve asking after him."
"Look, I just wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Duelling Club."
I had to bite my lip to remind myself not to completely lose it - if I attacked Potter I could still get in trouble, as clearly Headmaster Dumbledore was still protecting his Golden Boy if Potter could just wander about the castle after what happened. "We were all there. We saw what happened," I replied slowly, my voice quivering as I struggled to hold back my anger.
"Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?"
He must think I was a complete and utter dunce. There was no way I would let Potter cowl me into agreeing with his sham of a cover story. "All I saw was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake towards Justin."
"I didn't chase it at him!" Potter shouted insistently. "It didn't even touch him!"
"It was a very near miss! Only reason it didn't work was because Professor Snape destroyed your servant before it could hurt Justin." I added hastily, "I might tell you that can trace my family back through at least nine generations of Magicals and my blood's as pure as anyone's so-"
"-I don't care what sort of blood you've got!" interrupted Potter, a fierce look on his face. I felt myself falter, my nerves returning thinking Potter just declared he was coming after me anyways. "Why would I want to attack Muggleborns? Or anyone at all?"
"People do say you hate those Muggles you live with," Hannah interjected swiftly, much to my gratitude. I felt my fear tamper down at the reminder that I wasn't alone against Potter and despite her own doubts, Hannah would come to my defense over Potter's.
"It's not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them. I'd like to see you try it," Potter replied, as if that was reason enough to explain away his hatred of Muggles - another example of his prejudice.
Without another word, Potter turned on his heel and stormed away, finally realizing that neither Hannah or I would betray where Justin was hiding nor would we believe any of his excuses. It was a relief when Potter finally left. That whole confrontation left me feeling utterly exhausted, yet my heart was beating faster than Billywig's wings.
"Oh sweet Morgana," Hannah suddenly explained. "Ernie, it's almost one o'clock! We were supposed to meet back up with Justin nearly ten minutes ago!"
"Merlin's beard! He might've left the common room!"
We quickly gathered our things and hurried out of the library. I prayed to Mother Magic that Justin stayed put and didn't try to go looking for us like he normally would. However, we weren't even halfway there when we heard Peeves' loud shouting.
Hannah and I were separated in the stampede of students that came barrelling into the corridor from various classrooms, everyone running in the same direction. I selfishly prayed it was someone else, anyone else, anyone but who I feared it to be.
Sadly, it was not meant to be, and I felt my heart shattered when I saw a terrified looking Justin petrified on the stone corridor floor. I failed him. I promised to protect him and I failed, I couldn't save the one boy who thought the world of me. I truly was just as useless and talentless as Father said I was.
When I saw Potter huddled on the floor near Justin's prone body, I felt myself nearly lose it. This was all his fault! But unlike with Creevey, Potter was caught in the act. Neither the professor nor the headmaster could protect him now!
Chapter 17: I'll Be Home for Yule
Chapter Text
Esme POV
~Dream~
Do not fear the darkened pit, but only that which wanders it.
Only its master it will obey, never to hesitate or betray.
Shut your eyes, shut them tight, for the gaze is as deadly as the bite!
~End of Dream~
Despite still taking the Sleeping Draught every night, I continued to wake up in the morning with my heart racing. While I still remembered little of what I was dreaming about, I knew a voice was calling out to me again, though I couldn’t recall the words - and I didn’t want to. Remembering wouldn’t make the nightmare stop, so I didn’t care what it was actually about. What good would it do? Absolutely nothing besides making me terrified and exhausted from lack of sleep, and everyone was already scared enough.
Ever since the double attack on Justin Finch-Fletchley and the Gryffindor House ghost Sir Nicholas, the churning uneasiness and concern amongst the students had turned into simmering panic and biting fear. It was one thing for a student to be petrified, but another for a ghost to be as well. What could possibly petrify a ghost? No one knew (not even a little birdy had whispered into Blaise’s ear), everyone was clueless and scared over what had the terrible power to harm someone who was already dead.
Barely a day after the attack Blaire called a family meeting for the same reason that all of us made sure we could make it no matter what - we all needed to see one another. The five of us and Ernie gathered in the courtyard together, each sharing a longer than normal hug (though the boys mostly stuck to hands on the shoulder or in Ernie’s case, getting his hair mussed). I had noticed that George Weasley had either come up with Blaire or had followed her down because he was hovering at the edge of the courtyard, absent Fred. If the mood hadn’t been so somber I would’ve loved to tease Blaire over her own ‘little shadow’, as she always did with me about Janette.
As we huddled close together, no one was really talking. I didn’t even know what to say in the first place. Poor Ernie had been nearly inconsolable as he stared dead-eyed at nothing - unsurprising considering Finch-Fletchley was his best friend. I didn’t know what I would do if Daphne was attacked and petrified. We had all tried what we could to help our only cousin, and it was Dustin of all of us who managed to finally get Ernie to stop holding in his emotions. Like a bubble popping when you poked it, Ernie burst into tears, expressing his anger, guilt, and sadness over Finch-Fletchley’s attack.
I didn’t know if he felt better or not (since afterwards he hadn’t utter another word), but I was less worried he was about to lash out in anger should even the tiniest thing set him off. I was surprised when Ernie had also expressed a deep anger for Potter. My only cousin never gave me the impression of an angry person, being the shy, nervous person he seemed to be. Yet, under his negative view of himself for not protecting his friend better, Ernie was convinced Potter was the vengeful Heir of Slytherin. So naturally, he was also upset that Potter hadn’t been expelled or punished in any way.
Ernie wasn’t alone in this opinion. Almost the entirety of the students of Hogwarts were convinced Potter was the Heir of Slytherin yet had somehow managed to wiggle his way out of being expelled. Wherever Potter went students would skirt around him (and any who was with him), afraid he would attack them or mark them as his next victim if they were to get too close to him - though this didn’t stop the more bold students from outright hissing at him as he passed.
Most of my Housemates were still absolute in their belief that Potter wasn’t Slytherin’s Heir. The common thought floating around was that Potter may be attacking the students on his own anyways and was simply assuming the mantle of the Heir of Slytherin out of convenience. Despite this perceived grand insult of Potter attempting to claim a title he was unworthy of, many still enjoyed seeing Potter lose all of his popularity. Draco especially had been enjoying Potter’s fall from grace.
I didn’t care about all that and remained firm in my belief that Potter wouldn’t attack anyone, especially like this - though he certainly wasn’t doing himself any favours. I had thought after the incident on Samhain that Potter would know better than to wander about the castle on his own. But alas, it was not something that seemed to have sunk in.
The only other students who appeared not to care about his social downfall (besides Weasley and Granger) were Fred and George Weasley. Whenever George wasn’t hovering around Blaire, I saw both him and his twin marching ahead of Potter down the corridors calling out, “Make way for the Heir of Slytherin” and “Seriously Dark wizard coming through”. Their clear teasing of the situation helped lighten the heavy mood in the corridors - and I found it funny when one of them tried to ward off Potter with a clove of garlic. Draco and his posse weren’t amused by the Weasley twins’ antics, yet Draco didn’t try anything to make them stop; though that could’ve been because Draco didn’t want the Weasley twins to turn their teasing and pranks on him.
However, despite their efforts, the Weasley twins couldn’t dispel the rumours circulating about Potter. While Blaise had heard little gossip about Salazar Slytherin’s monster, everyone was talking about how Potter managed to avoid being punished in some way. Some said it was because Potter was Dumbledore’s Golden Boy, while others thought Potter used Dark magic to make the staff not do anything. Some others even believed as the Heir Apparent of the Noble House of Potter, Potter couldn’t be punished without further evidence besides being found at the two scenes of petrification.
Blaise had once again heard the truth from a little birdy - Hagrid had vouched for Potter, having been with him around the time Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas were attacked. Honestly, if Hagrid hadn’t done so, heir or no heir, I think Potter would’ve at least faced an inquiry. Obviously Hagrid’s words didn’t stop the students from thinking the worst, but short of the actual attacker being caught in the act Potter would remain guilty in the eyes of the gossip mill of Hogwarts.
With winter break now upon us, I was sure Potter would be reprieved from the whispers following him around as the castle would be particularly empty. Carlisle and Dustin had mentioned that all the students who had previously chosen to remain at Hogwarts during the break had quickly made other arrangements so they could escape. Blaire had noticed this as well, recounting that many Gryffindor students had asked her to pass along to Professor McGonagall that they weren’t staying over the course of winter break after all.
I was glad today was the day we were all leaving Hogwarts. While I was uneasy over how Papa would react when Alaric finally told him everything in person, I needed a reprieve from the castle and its tension-filled air. The grounds themselves had been transformed from dreary mud to snow-covered winter beauty, which I felt lightened some of the stiffness. Yule had always been a happy occasion, no matter anything else that had or was happening.
Daphne, Tracey, and I were happily chatting about our winter break plans while we packed up our things in our dormitory, ignoring Parkinson and Bulstrode at the other side of the room as they ignored us in return.
“-so she’s really excited to finally learn how to ice skate on the pond. Mother has already promised to have one of the house-elves watch us in case either of us fall and hurt ourselves,” Daphne finished explaining.
“I should hope so, as you seem the type to hide an injury if it would interfere in your attendance of a ball,” I commented, pulling up my blanket to make my bed.
Daphne giggled. “Oh no I’d say something about the injury, but I would hide the amount of pain it was causing because after all, ‘a lady hides her discomforts with a smile in High Society settings’.”
“Did your mother really tell you that?” asked Tracey in a quiet voice. Lately she had gotten more confident in taking part in our conversations.
“She did, though I don’t think she truly meant for Astoria or I to hide anything serious just for the sake of decorum.” Daphne finished folding her clothes and shut her trunk with a click. “All that aside, I really am looking forward to the Winter Ball. Astoria wrote to me that the Black family will be hosting it this year.”
“I know they’re an Ancient and Most Noble House, but is there another reason the Black family hosting is significant?” I asked as I carefully stacked my books inside my own trunk. It sounded like this was bigger news than it appeared to be on the surface.
“It has been almost a decade since they last hosted,” supplied Tracey, as she lifted a pile of clothing to place inside her trunk.
“There’s that,” agreed Daphne. “But most importantly it means that the Winter Ball will be held at Black Castle! I’ve never been there myself, but Mother says the grounds are absolutely gorgeous and the ballroom is always breathtaking.”
“I look forward to seeing it then.”
A scoff then sounded from across the room. Rolling my eyes, I turned around to address the source. “Something you’d like to say?”
Parkinson squared her shoulders as she faced me. “Of course you’d be looking forward to seeing Black Castle, Archard. It’s the grandest Wizarding property in England. Much better than whatever hovel your family managed to get their hands on.”
I felt my eye twitch slightly but then smiled with teeth. “You’re one to talk, Parkinson. I can’t imagine the state of the cottage your family lives in since, after all, your father is not Lord Parkinson.”
Parkinson’s face tightened as she turned red, but before she could retort I added, “Save your comments for someone who actually cares. Now, best hurry along and gather your things. You wouldn’t want to miss the train because you couldn’t do something as simple as pack.”
I then turned my back on her, signalling my clear dismissal of the conversation. I could practically hear Parkinson grinding her teeth, but she chose to remain silent - likely unable to think of a retort and having long learned to keep her wand away. I quickly finished and locked up my trunk. My friends and I then bundled ourselves up in our winter cloaks and scarves before leaving the dormitory. Blaise and Theo had already made plans to sit with the other Second-Year boys on the train, so we didn’t bother waiting for them in the common room.
The three of us were able to claim a horse-drawn carriage for ourselves, so we shamelessly all huddled together under a large blanket for warmth despite the obvious presence of a Heating Charm on the seats. Halfway into the journey down to the Hogsmeade train station, I noticed Tracey kept sending me glances out of the corner of her eyes. She clearly had something to say but her shyness was acting up again and it was keeping her from voicing whatever it was.
“Something on your mind, Tracey?” I asked as I gently blew warm air into my mitten covered hands.
Still Tracey hesitated, so Daphne reached over me to hold Tracey’s hand. “Remember, you can always speak your mind with us.”
“I just wanted to say…I really admire you, Esme.”
I blinked in surprise - I was not expecting that.
“You're always so confident and strong. You’ve always been able to stand up against Pansy, be it an exchange of quips or even spellfire,” Tracey said slowly. “I admire it all and wish I could be that confident, so sure of myself, so unafraid to stand my ground.”
Daphne arranged our hands so all three of us were now holding hands. “There’s no denying that both Pansy and Esme have strong personalities, but that doesn’t make you lesser in any way, Tracey. Besides, you just need time and practice and confidence will come.”
“She’s right, ma amie . Give it time, and I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I mean, you endured Parkinson for years.” This got a laugh out of all three of us. “ Merci , Tracey, for your kind words.”
I had to thank her for more than one reason. Tracey’s words…they unintentionally cut me deep. She called me strong when most of the term I’d been anything but. I’d been hiding behind the safety of the Sleeping Draught because I was so scared of the nightmare haunting my sleep. I’d been so weak and scared against the thought of whatever I was repeatedly dreaming about. But now, I felt like I needed to try and be who Tracey saw me as. If I expected Tracey to try and be confident, then I needed to live up to my family’s words, Dubort Fort - We Stand Strong.
I felt the burning embers of determination in my chest - I would stop taking the Sleeping Draught and face my nightmare, no matter what it was about, no matter the uncomfortable implications a recurring dream implied.
The rest of the chilly carriage ride passed in relative silence, all three of us sighing in relief when we climbed onto the blissfully warm train. The Hogwarts Express was as packed as it was at the beginning of term, so it was rather difficult to find an available compartment to sit in. We ended up sitting in the communal seating carriage amongst many of the Upper-Year Slytherins. Thankfully, the Upper-Years didn’t mind us and even let us join in several rounds of Gobstones - a game that was more fun to watch in my opinion, as I greatly disliked being hit with the putrid liquid at every lost point.
Before I knew it, Alaric had shown up in the carriage looking for me. “ Allez , petite papillon . It won't be long before we arrive in London.”
Alaric waited nearby while I gave quick goodbye hugs to both Daphne and Tracey, the latter of which blushed red but accepted the hug nevertheless. He then securely tied my scarf around my neck before leading me out of the carriage and into another. Through the windows I saw the Hogwarts Express was pulling into King’s Cross Station. Before the train came to a complete stop, Alaric had led us to the far doors where Blaire arrived shortly after with Carlisle and Dustin in tow.
After a lurching stop, the five of us stepped off the train, being one of the first few to do so. Alaric and Blaire kept me between them as we walked over to where the trunks were being unloaded by some house-elves. Being one of the first to arrive ensured that we collected our belongings within moments and quickly pushed our trolleys away in search of whoever it was that was picking us up this time. I was half-expecting it to be Papa once again, but against my expectations Alaric spotted Maman waiting for us in the crowd, politely chatting with some other parents.
The moment she saw us, Maman respectfully excused herself and made her way over to us. “Hello, my darlings!” greeted Maman with her usual bright smile. “Are we all set to go?”
We all replied with “Yes” or “ Oui ”.
Maman then led the way to the barrier to exit into Muggle London where the old guard stood letting people go through one family every few minutes or so. Thankfully we didn’t have to wait too long before the six of us travelled through the barrier.
Same as it was last year, there were hardly any Muggles rushing about, so we easily made our way out of King’s Cross Station to where a black Ministry car stood waiting at the curb for us. Alaric and the twins took charge and loaded all our trunks into the boot of the car. Meanwhile, Blaire and I helped Maman load the pet cages into the backseat. While the cats and other owls were all fast asleep in their various carriers, Flèche was nipping at the latch on his cage, clearly wanting out.
Sticking my finger through the cage bars, I petted his soft feathers as I shushed him. “Easy there, Flèche. We’ll be there soon and then you can stretch your wings inside the greenhouse.” I hated having to keep him cooped up but I didn’t want to risk his health flying right now - it was far too windy for him in my opinion, and flying him at a Muggle train station would likely attract unwanted attention.
Once my brothers were settled into their seats, Maman tapped on the closed window, signalling to the driver we were ready to leave. As the car smoothly pulled away from the curb, Maman clapped her hands together once. “So I am sure you children were expecting your father to be the one to collect you, but I felt it would be better if I did.”
“May we ask why, Mother?” asked Blaire from beside me.
Maman’s smile faltered a bit and soon vanished as a serious look overcame her face. “Your father did not take the news of students being petrified well, even more so because the Ministry were the ones to inform him and not any of his children attending Hogwarts.”
The slight reprimand in her voice caused all of us to wince.
“Rest assured I did talk him down so none of you will be punished for your lapse in judgement, but your father remains quite…tense about things. So for now please do not broach the subject with him until I am able to talk him through a bit more.”
I had questions I wanted to ask, but Maman’s tone was firm and final - indicating the end of the conversation.
Her bright smile suddenly returned to her face. “You’ll be pleased to hear that Reginald and dear Ernie will be joining us again for our Yule Feast.”
I smiled at the news, happy that we would get to spend more time with Ernie, but also hopeful that we’d be able to have fun together on such a happy holiday. We all needed our minds taken away from the happenings of Hogwarts.
Maman continued to keep the conversation cheerful and light as she checked in on how our social lives were going, teasing Blaire about George before immediately questioning my brothers if anyone had caught their eyes, and then finally asking how we were liking our classes. Time passed quickly and before I knew it, we had finally arrived at Heaven's Garden.
Similarly to last year, the manor grounds were richly decorated with garlands and shimmering golden lights providing a soft glow which pierced through the darkness of the night. Sparkling snow covered everything except for the manor’s long driveway. A large fir tree once again stood in the middle of the front lawn fully decorated with balls of gold and silver lights with moving red sparks circling the boughs. Nearby the unfrozen fountain shone from the holly-decorated candles floating in its waters as garlands hung along the outside.
The car came to a stop in front of the steps. As I climbed out with Flèche’s cage in my hands I took in the slight differences in decorations. While every window still held a wreath woven with shining sparkles and red ribbon, a candle now rested on each sill underneath the wreaths. The stairs had garlands on each rail, but instead of small fir trees there were two small snowmen. They were humorously dressed in small robes and pointed hats.
Leaving our trunks in the car for the house-elves to collect, we all made our way up the snow-free steps behind Maman. The front doors opened for her without a touch, leaving my siblings and I to eagerly follow after her into the warmth of the manor. As the cold was chased away, I also felt some of the weight on my shoulders slip away. Being here surrounded by the beautiful Yule decorations reassured me that despite all that had happened at Hogwarts, we would still be able to have a happy time over winter break.
I carefully set down Flèche’s cage, hoping he wouldn’t be too agitated by the time the house-elves released him into the manor’s small rookery. Part of me expected us to be swarmed by our younger siblings but there was surprisingly no mini stampede of feet.
“Tipper?” called out Maman.
The small house-elf popped into existence. “What can Tipper do for Mistress?”
“Please collect our cloaks before joining the others in sending the children’s things up to their rooms.”
“As Mistress commands,” Tipper said while bowing low to Maman.
With a snap of the house-elf’s fingers, our cloaks and scarves were gently removed and floated away behind Tipper, who walked away without another word.
“Come along, my darlings!” cooed Maman she wordlessly spelled our shoes clean. “Both dinner and your siblings are waiting for us.”
We all followed Maman once again as she led the way to the dining room. Seated at the head of the table was Papa, who was looking over various pieces of parchment. Isabelle and Henrik had their heads together as they whispered quietly while Janette appeared to be listening avidly to something Gérard was saying. Fain was the first to notice us.
“They’re here!”
With that simple declaration, they all turned to us, bright smiles on their faces, but none dared to move a muscle from their chairs, though the twins and Janette clearly wanted to. Papa had no doubt insisted they wait here for us - hence why they weren’t waiting for us in the foyer like last year. Part of me was disappointed to not receive the warm welcome as we did last year, but as Maman had told in the car, Papa was upset, so we all had to tread carefully.
Papa stacked the parchments he had been reading into a pile. “Take your seats,” he commanded while waving his wand, sending the pile of parchment flying out of the room - no doubt back to his office.
We all silently obeyed and took our designated seats on both sides of the table. Passing by my younger siblings, I sent them each a warm smile in greeting. Janette gave me a smile wave and smile in return, but I hadn’t been able to catch Henrik’s and Isabelle’s eyes; they were focused on someone else. Taking my seat between Carlisle and Gérard, Fain and his twin both sent me bright smiles, Gérard reaching under the table and to grip my hand.
Without command, Honny and Dimper appeared with floating trays of food. Once Papa took the first serving, we all carefully dug into the delicious food. There was a tense silence sizzling through the air, with only the sounds made from everyone eating attempting to fill it. This was worse than meals together were before we came to England. At least then there was some sort of conversation, not this uncomfortable silence.
Papa was the source of the tension. He sat stiffly in his chair with his movements appearing to be overly controlled. I felt Maman had downplayed how upset Papa was with him like this. Looking down at my plate, worried bubbled inside my chest - how would Yule be if he continued to be upset with us the whole break?
Part of me wanted to ignore Maman’s warning and broach the subject to try and attempt to settle things before any celebrations began, but another part of me knew it would be a foolish thing to do. Looking to my right to the twins and triplets, I felt unsure if they were even aware of all that happened. In the end it didn’t matter as I didn’t want to start the conversation in front of them anyways. Either I would then have to tell them of the terrible things and frighten them or by bringing it up I didn’t want to hear whatever reassurances would be told to them; any reassurances would be lacking or false.
Most likely, our youngest siblings weren’t even aware. I mean, Papa and Maman hadn’t told us about those attacking our family in France, so it didn’t really make sense for them to tell the youngest five anything now. I restrained the part of me that wanted to break the tension and instead focused back on the food.
Without any sort of conversation, dinner ended rather quickly and Maman sent all of us to bed. Without a polite good night given to our parents we all filed out of the dining room. Once we left, Janette raced over and latched onto me. “I’m glad you're back, Esme!”
“Me too, petite ombre .” I told her as I wrapped my arm around her small shoulders. “I missed you.”
Janette’s voice then quieted with a sadness added to it as we began climbing the stairs. “Papa has been like that for almost a week now.”
“Whatever it is, I hope it passes quickly. We can’t even pull a prank when he’s like this,” complained Fain while Gérard nodded along.
“You two shouldn’t be pulling pranks to begin with,” snapped Dustin from up ahead of us.
“The things you pull are far too dangerous, either for yourselves or for others,” added Carlisle over his shoulder.
Before the bubbling argument could continue Blaire stepped in. “That’s enough! Everyone needs to be on their best behavior until further notice.”
“Things aren’t going to get better soon are they?” asked Henrik resignedly.
Alaric sighed as he paused at the top of the stairs. “No, they aren’t, but be reassured it has nothing to do with you five.”
This appeared to reassure our younger siblings, but sharing a look with Dustin I knew this wouldn’t be the last time they would ask about what was happening. Isabelle especially could only restrain herself for so long before she would burst and demand to know everything.
I first walked Janette to her room and we shared a long hug - both as a welcome home and a good night. Taking the strength Janette unknowingly offered I finally separated myself and headed to my own room. Tonight I wouldn’t take any Sleeping Draught, finally facing whatever was haunting my sleep. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but still my determination burned. I could do this, I would do this, because I was an Archard and We Stood Strong.
Ma amie = my friend (female)
Merci = thank you
Dubort Fort = We Stand Strong
Allez = come along
Petite papillon = little butterfly (female)
Oui = yes
Petite ombre = little shadow (female)
Extra POVs
Harry POV
Since the last attack, everyone had scrambled to book seats on the Hogwarts Express to go home for Christmas - not that many had previously planned to stay to begin with. I was honestly glad that most people were leaving. I was so tired of everything. Tired of people skirting around like I was dangerous, tired of all the whispers and staring, and tired of everyone thinking the worst of me.
Sure, Fred and George helped a bit with their antics in the corridors, but so few people still found the idea of me being the Heir of Slytherin to be ludicrous. While I wasn’t sure what she believed about me, Blaire had at least stood up for me against the other Gryffindors, getting those who wanted to kick me out of Gryffindor Tower to simply ignore me altogether. With the term ending and winter break about to start, I was looking forward to the peace that was surely to come with a practically empty castle.
Hermione was especially happy the castle would be nearly empty as it limited the risk of our rule-breaking potion brewing being discovered. She had already started brewing in the second-floor girls’ bathroom in order for the Polyjuice Potion to be completed by the time everyone else returned for next term at the start of January. I would’ve preferred to sneak into the Slytherin common room when there were less people there to find us out, but, as Hermione had predicted, Malfoy wouldn’t be staying over break once again - leaving like many of the Purebloods did.
Weirdly enough, I’d received a rather odd bit of mail the other day. It was dropped in my lap by an owl I didn’t recognize before the dark hawk-lookalike swooped up and flew away with the scarce few other owls that had arrived. I felt cautious about opening it - I never received mail after all, especially from an owl other than Hedwig.
It was a thick-sort of off-white parchment with expensive looking details along the edge in black and shiny gold. I had first thought the owl had somehow brought the envelope to the wrong person since it was addressed in curvy script to Heir Apparent Potter, but I was the only Potter to my knowledge and I remembered Malfoy’s father calling me that months ago in Borgin and Burkes. I carefully broke the black wax seal on the back, half expecting something to come shooting out of the envelope, but all that was inside was a matching piece of parchment.
As I carefully unfolded the folded letter, Hermione asked, “Who’s that from, Harry?”
Looking towards the bottom of the parchment I read out, “Alphard Black,” from amongst the titles surrounding it.
“I’ve read about the Black family in Notable Magical Names of Our Time . They’re one of oldest Magical families in Britain.”
“And wron dof the Darkfests,” spoke Ron through his mouthful of food.
Hermione made a disgusted face. “Honestly Ronald, swallow before you speak!”
He quickly did so and repeated, “The Black family are the worst of the worst of those in Slytherin. Every last one of them has been Dark. What does he want?”
I quickly scanned the words on the parchment and realized it wasn’t actually a letter. “It’s an invitation to something called the Winter Ball.”
“I’ve never heard of that,” Hermione painfully admitted, looking as though not knowing about something really was physically painful.
“I have. It’s a stuffy party the hoity-toity Purebloods hold every year just after Christmas. My brother Percy dreams of attending, but it always sounded boring to me.” He then curled his nose up at the invitation still resting in my hands. “Honestly, I’d just throw it out. They’re probably only inviting you because everyone thinks you’re the Heir of Slytherin.”
My stomach curled at the idea - no way would I ever want to attend some Pureblood Supremacist party. Ron was probably right, this Lord Black did probably just want to connect with Slytherin’s Heir; the invitation did say ‘to deepen the neglected bonds between our families’.
“Harry couldn’t go anyways,” Hermione added. “Not when we’ll be brewing all through the break. Our plan is much safer to gather information than trying to learn something at a ball. Though I can’t help but imagine what it will be like - an actual ball in this day and age. I wonder if there’s anything in the library about it. I know it’s not mentioned in the book Esme got me last year…”
Hermione continued to ramble about research and such, but both Ron and I stopped listening out of habit. I was still stuck on the fact that even adults outside of Hogwarts were now thinking I was the Heir of Slytherin. At this rate I would be stuck with the title and associated with Slytherin forever, or at least just until we could prove it was Malfoy. Next term couldn’t come quick enough.
Diaspora POV
Once I was sure the children were all far enough away from the dining room, I finally addressed my silent husband. “Was your utter silence over dinner entirely necessary?”
Ashton wiped a drop of wine from his lip before setting his napkin on his empty plate. “I gave you my word I would not shout at our children. And with the sting of disappointment still heavy in my chest, I had little else to say to those freshly returned home.”
“While I appreciate you keeping your word to not yell unnecessarily at the children, passive aggressive silence is not the answer either. I am as upset as you are that none of the five deigned to inform us of what has been happening at Hogwarts, but still I speak to them and not let it cloud all else. Your stubborn silence will only dampen what is supposed to be a time for celebration and will make our youngest worry - something we both agreed to prevent.”
I sighed as I walked to his side and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Before either of us know it, winter break will be over and our eldest shall return to school. You must make peace with them before then, or you will regret the words left unsaid.”
“That will not be an issue as the children will not be returning to Hogwarts for the second term,” Ashton said as he rose from his chair with his back facing me.
“I beg your pardon? You cannot mean-”
“-I have made my decision and it is final. I will not have my children placed in harm’s way.”
“This is a decision that affects the future of our children. One that should be made by the both of us. Instead you are doing so alone and from a place of fear!”
“Of course it is from fear!” Ashton snapped, frustration colouring his tone. “I brought our family here thinking it would be safe, but instead I sent the children to a place that has been anything but! Last year there was a troll released into the school by a faculty member in a bid to steal the Philosopher’s Stone for himself and this year some unknown person or group are outright attacking students with no signs of stopping anytime soon! I swore I would keep our family safe and I have done the farthest thing from it!”
I hugged him from behind, squeezing my arms tightly around him when I felt him shudder. “You have not failed in any capacity. You protected us from those who wished us harm until justice could be wrought against them.”
Ashton turned in my arms and held me close to his chest. I snuggled close as I breathed in his comforting scent. After a few beats of silence I spoke again. “Even back then when the children were at more risk, when they were being specifically targeted, we still sent them to Beauxbatons because we agreed their education and social interaction with other Magical children was important. I still believe this to be true.”
Ashton remained silent, so I continued, “I know you read the letter Dumbledore sent. He swore on his own magic that no one would die from this and the culprit would be dealt with, or else he would personally see to Hogwarts being closed.”
Still Ashton remained silent. I pulled back and cradled his face in my hands to force him to look at me. “You trusted Dumbledore to help us. Now all I ask is you to trust him again - even if you cannot trust in our own children’s skills to protect themselves.”
Ashton released a great sigh before kissing me gently. I returned his gentle passion with my own. Pulling back he rested his forehead against mine. “The children may return to Hogwarts for the second term under the condition that they keep me apprised of the situation, and should I decide to call them home neither you or they may argue.”
I giggled softly as I pecked his lips quickly. “Darling, our children may be obedient and respectful, but even they would still argue if you dared to take them away from their friends, Quidditch, and their education.”
“They get it from their mother, for who else is daring enough to move to a foreign country for a wizard she recently met.”
“I would say they get it from their father as well, who stood against the waves of expectations to marry a foreign witch he hardly knew.”
Ashton kissed me once again. “ Ma lumière et mon coeur, je t’aime .”
“I love you too, mon amour .”
Ma lumière = my light (female)
Et = and
Mon coeur = my heart
Je t’aime = I love you
Mon amour = my love (male)
Chapter 18: A Very Merry Tense Yule
Chapter Text
Esme POV
~Dream~
Dark. Darkness all around me. Almost nothing could be seen through the blackness, with no way to discern where I was; a room, a corridor, even outside, I couldn’t tell. Shutting my eyes made little difference, yet it awoke my other senses. The air felt cold and damp, and in the distance I heard the drip drop of water. I shivered, both from the cold and from fear. Something was out there.
A girl’s voice called out to me:
Do not fear the darkened pit, but only that which wanders it.
Hearing a noise behind me, my eyes snapped open and I turned, startled. Still I could not make anything out in the darkness. The same noise rang from my left. I shifted as my eyes frantically searched, yet I saw nothing, not even a hint of movement. Again I heard the noise. As my heart beated loudly in my chest, I turned toward it.
The voice rang out once more:
Only its master it will obey, never to hesitate or betray.
I saw a shimmer through the dark. A creature stood before me, but nothing revealed what kind; I only knew that whatever it was, was gigantic. I was completely frozen, fear keeping me in place as I knew it was pointless to run. A deep hiss rumbled from the creature before me, drawing my eyes up, and up.
Suddenly the voice shouted:
Shut your eyes, shut them tight, for the gaze is as deadly as the bite!
But it was too late. There was a flash of fangs before the creature lunged; I screamed.
~End of Dream~
Waking suddenly, I gasped for breath as I nearly choked on the scream lodged in my throat. My eyes began to water with no warning. Turning onto my side, I clutched my pillow to my face as I let the tears fall down my cheeks. I felt my heart continue to beat quickly since the utter terror racing through my body was slow to leave it.
There was no doubt in my mind it was the monster in the Chamber of Secrets that was haunting my sleep; there was little else that made sense, not after what happened last year with the same kind of recurring nightmare. Which meant…the chamber and the monster within were real and not just the legend I thought they were. This conclusion caused a chill to run through my blood.
Thinking my nightmare over, I couldn’t discern exactly what the monster was. I remember feeling cold, feeling like the creature was significantly larger than me, some sort of hissing sound, and a flash of fangs. What limited knowledge of Magical creatures I had left me with multiple options, but for each my magic seemed to innately deny them as the truth. I could faintly recall a voice calling out to me, but I couldn’t remember what they said. I only knew that whatever was said was important.
Having made no progress picking apart the persistent nightmare, my mind moved along to other thoughts. The day after we first arrived at Heaven's Garden, Papa had called my older siblings and I into his office to speak with us privately. Without much preamble, Papa revealed the source of the tension that had previously been coating the air around him. He explained his anger and disappointment that none of us had written to him about the happenings at Hogwarts, leaving him instead to be informed by another lord in the Wizengamot.
Papa’s gaze had been especially heavy on Alaric and Blaire, though more so on my brother. Both had been tight with tension, though besides Alaric’s arms stiffening behind his back, neither cowed beneath Papa’s hard stare.
The long heavy silence was broken when Papa released a sigh before admitting he had at first wanted to forbid the five of us from returning to Hogwarts after the winter break, but Maman had talked him out of it. However, upon our return we were to inform him of everything that happened in Hogwarts, and should he feel it prudent to remove us from the school if things not be resolved to his liking then we were to do so with silent obedience. We had all given our agreement to this (Papa did so rarely change his mind and never lightly). He clearly worried for our safety despite supposedly only Muggleborns being the targets of the attacks.
I felt it in my very magic that things would get worse before they got better. While I was scared I was also glad Papa would allow us to return – if my friends would be at Hogwarts then I would be as well, instead of hiding away.
Still, the time to return to Hogwarts was far away, and warmth finally returned to my body as I remembered that today was Yule. Heaving myself out of bed, I left behind as much of my negative thoughts and feelings as possible - it was time to focus on this joyful day.
I quickly got dressed into my Yule robe and carefully brushed my hair before putting on the holly wreath one of the house-elves had left out for me to wear. With it secured on my head, I left my room to make my way down to the living room.
“Happy Yule, Esme.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I waited as Blaire joined me near the top of the stairs. “Happy Yule!”
As we made our way down the staircase I raised my eyebrows at my older sister. “So, did George already send along a Yule gift specially from him?”
Even as she blushed as red as the berries in our wreaths, Blaire maintained the rest of her composure. “I had not yet gone through the gifts Zimpsy left out for me, but I do expect there is something from George.”
“Since you two began openly dating, you’re a lot less fun to tease.”
She giggled as we reached the landing. “ Je suis désolé, petite soeur ,” she said, not sounding the least bit sorry. “Though as a small additional Yule gift, I will tell you that George will be escorting me to the Winter Ball.”
“Oh? Does Papa know?”
“ Oui . He was not visibly pleased when I asked, but Mother had given her consent for George to join us, so any thought of not allowing it was thwarted by her.”
I felt my cheeks stretch from my smirk. “Oh~ I can’t wait to see how much Papa makes him sweat!”
“Could you at least pretend not to take enjoyment from seeing others suffer beneath Papa’s ire?”
I snorted. “As if you don’t. You only care because this time it will be your boyfriend.”
Blaire had nothing to say in response, though even if she did, she likely wouldn’t have since we had reached the living room where our siblings had already gathered in front of the silver flames burning in the great fireplace. Blaire linked our arms together and led me over to the sofa Alaric was sitting on alone. Carlisle and Dustin sat opposite of us with the triplets squeezed between them while Fain and Gérard were stretched out on the floor on fluffy cushions.
“Happy Yule, petites soeurs ,” greeted Alaric.
“Happy Yule,” we replied in return as we settled onto the sofa.
I curled against the arm of the sofa with a pillow supporting my back as I waited for Maman and Papa to arrive. I chose to sit in silence while my siblings chatted amongst themselves. Fain and Gérard especially appeared to be in their own little world as they whispered with their heads close together.
Since we returned to Heaven’s Garden, the twins had been on their best behavior and hadn’t pulled a single prank. Part of me worried Papa’s mood had dampened their usual cheer, but another part of me uneasily thought they were planning something larger than they usually attempted. Either way, if they didn’t do something soon I would speak with them just to make sure they were alright.
A few breaths later, our parents glided into the living room. “Happy Yule, my darlings!” cooed Maman as she beamed at us.
We each returned the greeting back to her before Papa then intoned in a serious voice, “Let us now begin this sacred day of celebration.”
Maman gestured to the large fir tree. “Beneath this tree of light and life, a blessing at this season of Yule. To all that sit at our hearth, today we are family and celebrate our good health. Today we do not fight, we bear no ill will. Today is a day to offer hospitality to all that enter our home in the name of the season!” I felt my magic stir within me as Maman spoke the traditional Yule blessing.
We all chanted back in unison, “We are grateful for what we have. We are not sorrowful for which we do not. We have more than others, less than some, but regardless are blessed with what is ours. May Mother Magic continue to bless and guide us eternally!”
A soft chime of approval rang through my senses - Mother Magic was pleased and hopefully granted us her blessing. Papa then swished his wand in a pattern and began his chant, “As the earth grows colder,” snow softly fell from the ceiling, “the winds blow faster,” it swirled around over our heads, “the fire dwindles smaller,” the burning silver flames dimmed slightly as the snow flowed to the center of the circle we made, “and the rains fall harder, let the light of the sun find its way home.” The snow gathered together and in a burst of light it vanished to reveal a large pile of gifts.
No matter how many times I saw Papa perform this feat of magic, it never ceased to amaze me with its beauty!
Papa flicked his wand back and forth. Various gifts rose from the pile, all wrapped in gold and blue paper and bows, floated up into the air to rest in front of each of us. “From us to you on this Yuletide,” Maman recited.
I reached out into the air and carefully grasped the gift. Pulling it into my lap, I gently tore the paper from the box and opened it. Inside was a soft pink gown. Taking it out of the box I saw that the top clasped around my throat but left my arms bare and had delicate vine-like beading all the way down to the long skirt. The skirt itself was the same light pink as the top but had an overskirt made of long pink feathers. It was a beautiful dress and I looked forward to wearing it at the Winter Ball.
“Once again, most of these gifts are what those of you who will attend the Winter Ball will be wearing. Miss Tonks has already agreed to watch the triplets while the rest of us attend the ball hosted by the Black family this year.” A pained look briefly overcame his face. “And…George Weasley will also be attending with us as Blaire’s escort.”
The triplets cheered at the news of Tonks once again looking after them as Maman and Papa got settled on the remaining sofa. Papa once again flicked his wand and gifts wrapped in scarlet spotted with gold paper floated in front of each of us.
Alaric stood from the other end of the sofa. “From me to you on this Yuletide.”
Ripping away the shiny paper revealed a small trunk-like case. Lifting the two bronze clasp and opening the dark leather lid which had my initials emblazoned in silver revealed the trunk's purpose - the various shelves that unfolded inside were to hold my art supplies. I could both store my various notebooks and my drawing supplies in it.
As everyone had finished opening our gifts, Maman flicked her wand and the next group of similarly wrapped floated over into front of each of us. These were all wrapped in gold spotted with scarlet paper.
Alaric took his seat while Blaire rose from the between us. “From me to you on this Yuletide.”
Removing the wrappings, I found myself holding a green, blue, and silver coloured book. I opened the cover and realized that it wasn’t just a book but a scrapbook. The first page was a preserved drawing I had done when I was even younger than the triplets. Turning each page showed different small paintings and drawings I had done through the years. The back had many blank pages - places to put future artworks of mine. I hugged the book close to my chest as a warm glow overcame me; Blaire had saved all of these throughout the years.
Blaire took her seat as Papa flicked his wand to and fro. As the gold and black dotted wrapped gifts floated from the pile to their recipients, Carlisle and Dustin climbed to their feet. “From us to you on this Yuletide.”
Seeing that my present was a long yet thin box I had an inkling to what the twins had gotten for me this year. Removing the wrapping paper and opening the box, I proved myself correct. Nestled between midnight blue baize was a Quidditch broom. A gold engraving near the top of the shaft declared it to be an Air Wave Gold. For a racing broom it was rather elegant looking, and I trusted the twins to get me something that was safe.
It was only a few moments later when everyone else was done opening their gifts. At Maman’s signal I put the lid back on the box and set it aside. Maman then flicked her wand and my gifts all wrapped in emerald with spotted silver paper rose from the lessening pile of gifts. I carefully got to my feet and smoothed out my Yule robe before announcing, “From me to you on this Yuletide.”
Staying in my position in front of the sofa I watched everyone open their gifts. For Maman and Papa I bought them a romantic dinner at Medlar, an authentic French restaurant in London which catered to both Muggle and Magicals alike. Blaire had helped me arrange the certificate with the restaurant as she entirely agreed that Maman and Papa deserved a romantic date together. As they looked over the certificate, Maman had a delicate flush on both cheeks as she smiled brightly at Papa, while to my pleasure, Papa was smiling softly down at Maman in return.
Turning to my right I saw that Alaric seemed pleased with the silver cufflinks I had bought for him. With Maman’s help I had commissioned them to be engraved in red with the Archard family crest. Now that Alaric was officially named as Papa’s heir, I felt that Alaric should have cufflinks like I’d seen Papa wear to High Society events. Since these would belong to him and not the line of succession, Alaric would be able to wear them throughout his life.
For Blaire, I bought a silver heart shaped picture frame currently holding a note stating ‘to hold a picture of you and George’. Despite all my teasing I wanted Blaire to know I liked her relationship with George. To encourage her to openly display their relationship felt like a good way to do it. And honestly, there was a large part of me that felt like her and George were almost meant to be. I wanted them to have physical memories they could look back on in years to come. Blaire seemed to really like it by the way she was blushing scarlet as she clutched the frame to her chest.
This year for Carlisle and Dustin I got them the exact same thing with small personal touches for each of them. After witnessing Alaric being injured during a Quidditch match, I felt that both boys should have a protection charm of their own to wear. In addition to the cloth charms, I also got each of them new goggles to wear during terrible weather conditions. Each had their initials engraved on the sides to distinguish them from the other.
For Fain and Gérard, I got them each a set of Gobstones. It seemed like a game they would enjoy and hopefully would be one they could play with their new friends. The twins appeared to really like them as Fain excitedly compared their different coloured marbles while Gérard carefully read over the directions and rules on how to play.
Finally for the triplets I got them each a different toy I thought they’d enjoy. For Henrik I bought a Singing Yo-Yo, for Isabelle I bought a toy Hippogriff with a sparkly pink collar on it, and for Janette I bought a toy Puffskein with lavender fur. I had wanted to give both girls their own Puffskeins to have as pets but Maman had felt they were too young for a pet just yet - even one as easily cared for as a Puffskein. All three seemed pleased with their gifts.
I took my seat on the sofa when I saw Papa raise his wand. He flicked it and a new batch of gifts rose from the ever-decreasing pile of gifts in the center of our circle. Fain and Gérard struggled onto their feet, both nearly toppling over when Fain tilted into Gérard after accidentally stepping on his floor cushion. Thankfully, neither fully lost their balance and were able to politely state in near perfect unison, “From us to you on this Yuletide.”
Taking gentle hold of the gift floating in front of me, I carefully tore apart the purple with silver spotted paper. Inside a parcel box I found three quill inkwells nestled in packaging paper. Carefully removing each lid one by one I discovered that none were black ink but rather blue, green, and pink light-coloured inks. I smiled to myself - of course those two wouldn’t give me plain black ink to write with, that would be far too boring for the mischievous twins.
Finally, it was the triplets' turn as Papa flicked his wand back and forth. Fain and Gérard settled back down onto their floor cushions while the triplets each climbed down from their place between Carlisle and Dustin. The last of the gifts from the center floated over to their owners. Speaking together though not quite in unison, the triplets intoned, “From us to you on this Yuletide.”
Three different sized boxes wrapped in midnight blue and silver striped paper were suspended in front of me. I started with the smallest. Ripping off the shiny wrapping, I found a handmade bracelet nestled in a box with a note signed with Janette’s messy scrawl. The plastic beads were a swarm of various colours, but still I knew Janette had worked hard on this. I wished I could put it on right now, but sadly it was tradition to not wear any adornments on Yule besides our wreaths of holly.
Inside the next box was a new paint set and a few different sized paintbrushes. I wasn’t sure which of the remaining triplets it was from until I found a note taped to the top of the box signed with Isabelle's hasty squiggle. The last present turned out to be a couple new canvas boards. I didn’t even need to look at the note to know they were from Henrik, but I still glanced at it and smiled at his carefully done signature.
With all the gifts presented, it was now time to give thanks for the things we had received. Setting aside my gifts from the triplets, I got to my feet and went around to everyone and thanked them for their gifts with an accompanied hug. Blaire and I shared a long and comforting hug together before Alaric swooped in and held me tightly against him. Maman kissed my cheek when she thanked me for their present, while Papa simply gently held me against him with one arm. Janette eagerly hugged me while Henrik and Isabelle each gave more quick hugs, though their gratitude was no less real. Carlisle and Dustin both gave me gentle hugs,and to my relief, each promising to always wear their new protective charms. Finally, Fain and Gérard hugged me between them as they expressed that they looked forward to learning to play Gobstones with both each other and their friends.
Maman suddenly clapped her hands twice to get our attention. “What wonderful gifts! Now we do have some time before your Uncle Reginald and little Ernie should be arriving, so best take all your new things up to your rooms. Zimpsy, Tipper, and Paddy will be available to take any gifts to your friends if you have not already done so. Otherwise my darlings, you are free to open any other gifts waiting for you in your rooms.”
I gathered all my gifts into my arms as best I could, though I did leave the box with the Quidditch broom behind for one of the house-elves to grab as I didn’t dare try to carry that with everything else. Once I was in the privacy of my own room, I left all my gifts from my family sitting on my bed before moving over to the pile of gifts from my friends resting on the bench at the foot of my bed. Between Flèche and Zimpsy I had sent out my gifts days in advance and I hoped that everyone liked what I had bought for this Yuletide.
For Daphne, I got her a teardrop diamond earring set after she had told me that over the winter break her mother was finally letting her get her ears pierced. While I was sure her family got her all sorts of earrings to start out with, I wanted to make my own contribution to her first earrings. At the same shop I bought Daphne’s earrings, I also found a silver snake tie pin for Draco which closely matched the pin he had gotten for me last year.
Instead of another small prank, I actually got Blaise a real gift this Yuletide. Earlier in the school term (before everything with the Chamber of Secrets started) the four of us had unknowingly had our picture taken in the courtyard by a Slytherin Upper-Year. She gave me a copy of the moving image when I asked her to. While none of us were looking at the camera, it was still a beautiful photo as we were being ourselves, joking around and laughing. I hoped that Blaise enjoyed the framed photo as much as I did.
For Theo, I got him a new book of spells I thought he might enjoy - specifically the section on subtle (and mostly harmless) prank/revenge spells. I figured it would help in his effort to put some healthy fear into his sister’s fiancé. I had also gotten a new book for Ginny, though hers was a book of French Wizarding Fairy Tales that were properly translated into English. Despite being in Gryffindor, Ginny seemed to be quite studious as I always saw her clutching a leatherbound book to her chest in the corridors.
While our friendship was still relatively new, I did make sure to get Tracey something for Yule. I didn’t know her all that well yet, but I figured she would enjoy the set of satin hair ribbons in Slytherin emerald green to wear.
Then finally for Neville, Blaire helped me acquire a small potted centaury plant for him. While it wasn’t considered all that rare of a herbology plant, it did only grow in mainland Europe and Asia, so Neville had likely never encountered any of the different types of centaury plants. Hopefully, he would like the quaint looking plant with its small pink flowers which opened in the morning and closed at night. Dried centaury leaves did have natural healing properties, but Magicals mostly used it as a decorative plant.
After briefly sorting through the differently wrapped presents, I picked up a palm-sized dark-green wrapped package. Picking up the thick parchment lying on top, I read the carefully done elegant script. It was from Draco, though his parents likely had a hand in it since it was significantly more formal than any of the letters we shared over the summer break - he’d even signed it with his formal title.
Setting the note aside, I tore away the paper to reveal a velvet box. Lifting the lid revealed a beautiful green and blue coloured butterfly wing encased in some sort of magnified glass that was set in an antique looking silver metal detailing with small pale-white gems. It was a gorgeous broach-like necklace and I couldn’t help but trace over the glass covered butterfly wing. I’d have to look up the specific type of butterfly this wing could be - or ask Draco at the Winter Ball - but not knowing the species didn’t take away from how much I loved the necklace.
I carefully closed the hinged lid of the velvet box and set it down near Draco’s note. Looking back at my small pile of gifts, I selected the metallic looking tin with a ribbon tied around it. Tucked under the big red bow was a simple piece of parchment. I lifted the top fold and read:
Happy Yule, Esme!
I helped Mum make them!
Ginny
After finally managing to untie the tightly tied red bow, I was able to pry the lid off. Inside the tin were about seven mini-pies cushioned with wax paper. Dipping my finger a little into one of them, I tasted the filling and was surprised to find it was strawberry and cream - the same recipe I enjoyed at the dinner party between our families. Part of me wondered if this was a coincidence or if Ginny had remembered which of the four pies I favoured. Either way I was touched by her thoughtful gift and looked forward to tasting the baked goods. Perhaps I would even use them as a treat while having tea with my sisters - Isabelle had enjoyed this flavour the most as well.
I would need to remember to tell Zimpsy about the tin since we weren’t supposed to keep food in our rooms - not that my siblings and I hadn’t tried throughout the years, but usually Zimpsy or another of the house-elves found out and would then dispose of our hidden treats. Telling Zimpsy would ensure the pies were stored safely and not thrown out.
Carefully sealing the lid back on the tin, I set Ginny’s gift slightly apart from Draco’s. Then without much thought, I picked up a square box wrapped in shimmering silver and pink paper. After removing the wrappings, I found a square piece of parchment stuck to the lid of the box. A short but sweet message revealed the gift was from Tracey.
Lifting the lid and tearing away some delicate pink tissue revealed an adorable black wool cloche cap with a thin silver trim around it. Since I didn’t want to remove my wreath and risk messing up how I had kept my hair out of my face without using pins, I would have to try on Tracey’s gift once Yule was over. Holding the cap in my hands I turned it around to look it over - even without trying it on I could tell it would fit. With her having picked such simple elegance for me I could tell Tracey had excellent taste. I honestly felt a twinge of guilt that all I got for her in return were just hair ribbons.
I placed the hat back in the box, setting it aside with Draco’s gift. Reaching for the next gift, I selected a small rectangular box with an envelope tied to it with a green string. Even though I didn’t recognize the sigil pressed into the royal blue wax, I didn’t hesitate to open the envelope because I wouldn’t even be holding it to begin with if there was anything harmful in or about it. The house-elves always checked and sorted the mail sent to us, except for anything sent to Papa and Maman since they knew how to do so themselves. Inside was a fancily engraved parchment:
Dear Miss Esme Archard,
From me to you on this Yuletide.
With Sincere Regards,
Heir Marcus of the Noble House of Flint
PS: I hope you shall accept my request for a dance next we see each other.
A stone formed in my stomach. I had no intention of accepting another dance from Heir Flint and could easily avoid it should he try to broach the subject at the ball; but what made me feel uneasy was the possibility of Alaric finding out and becoming aggravated again. He’d made it clear I was to stay away from Heir Flint and I was more than happy to oblige. I doubted he’d be pleased to know Heir Flint had sent me a Yule gift, not to mention his addendum at the end of his card. There was only one thing for it then - regardless of what Heir Flint got me, it wouldn’t see the light of day and I would be burning the card out of sight from any of my siblings the first moment I had.
Lifting the lid off the box revealed a thin silver chain bracelet with pearls and green gems alternating with small silver studs between them. There was no visible clasp, instead the chain appeared to be self-sizing by pulling on the two chain ends which were fed through a silver snake’s mouth. Overall it was a surprisingly tasteful Slytherin themed bracelet, but still it was something I couldn’t wear, not when I would have to explain where it came from. I would need to formally thank Heir Flint for his gift as well as give him something in return - the more formal and impersonal the better. Most likely a boring book from Flourish and Blotts that I’d send to him with Flèche along with a formally written note.
Putting the lid back on the box, I instantly hid the box under my bed (out of sight, out of mind) and set the envelope aside to burn at my earliest convenience. Thankfully there were several fires always burning during this time of year since I couldn’t use any magic to do so (stupid underaged magic restrictions).
I did my best to shove aside my negative emotions and thoughts as I reached for the closest gift of the dwindling pile of unopened gifts. This package was wrapped in various shades of blue and silver paper. The elegant card on top was signed by Daphne in her curly script. Being careful not to rip the beautiful paper, inside was a beautifully carved tea box labeled Rosa Lee’s Morning Tea: Infused with Calming Draught to soothe away stress . Lifting the lid, I breathed in the scent of the herbs inside. I found the combined scents to be quite pleasant and looked forward to trying this blend in place of my usual morning tea.
The next gift I picked up wasn’t wrapped like the others and instead was a small indigo coloured satchel. Tied to one of the drawstrings was a note - it was from Blaise!
Use generously as needed.
Happy Yule,
Blaise
I felt slightly confused over what he’d gotten me from his note. After loosening the satchel open, I reached inside to find a small tub with some sort of cream inside it. It was labeled Madam Primpernelle’s Bags-Be-Gone Cream . I finally understood what Blaise had meant - use the cream generously as needed to magically vanish the dark bags under my eyes which had been appearing more often this term. Daphne wasn’t the only one who had noticed I hadn’t been sleeping well.
With only three remaining gifts, I decided to select the one which had to be wrapped in Muggle wrapping paper, as it had images of these oddly done reindeer mixed with a strange looking creature in green with a pointed hat. Mentally bracing myself, I read the card which once again stated ‘Happy Christmas’ and was signed by Granger.
I scowled down at the note as annoyance flowed through my entire being. Honestly, what was with this girl! Even after I sent her a book about the various Magical holidays and traditions she still couldn’t follow basic courtesy and wish me ‘Happy Yule’. She had to know by now that most Magicals celebrated Yule instead of the Muggle Christmas, yet here she was once again shoving her Muggle holiday at me. She had to be doing it on purpose - and so any wisp of guilt over not getting her a gift was gone.
Only my manners kept me from pitching the flat box into the rubbish bin before even opening it. Ripping away the strange wrapping paper revealed an assorted box of sugar quills, licorice wands, and pumpkin pasties. I set the box next to Ginny’s gift, though unlike the mini-pies, I would be giving these treats to my younger siblings entirely. I had no intention of eating anything wrapped in an insult.
I turned back to the last two gifts sitting on the bench. I reached for the larger of the two, a book-sized package wrapped in silvery paper with holly boughs decorating it. The elegant card tied to it with ribbon was signed by Theo. Like Draco, Theo had included his formal title - his father’s influence without a doubt. I shivered when I remembered the interaction I had with Lord Nott at last year’s Winter Ball - not an experience I wanted to repeat anytime in the near future.
Tearing away the paper revealed a book, one I hadn’t read before titled Atlas of Celestial Anomalies by M. P. N. Carneirus. Even with our astronomy class being in the middle of the night, it hadn’t been able to dampen my interest in the subject. I looked forward to paging through Theo’s thoughtful gift.
After setting the book down with my other gifts, I carefully reached for the final gift. Only one person remained and I felt excitement ripple through me. Briefly glancing at the card attached to the small gift bag confirmed it was indeed from Neville. Inside surrounded by crème coloured tissue was a gorgeous charm that I could attach to my school bag. It was a shrunken down yellow rose in full bloom that was encased in thick feeling glass and hung from a delicate silver chain.
Standing up from the bench with the small charm cradled in my hands, I went over to my school trunk. Easily attaching my new accessory to my school bag, I put it away before calling out for Zimpsy.
There was a popping sound as the house-elf appeared in the center of my room. “What can Zimpsy do for Little Mistress?”
“Some of my friends gifted me some sweets,” I said as I picked up the tin and the assorted candy box. “Would you please have Honny set aside the small pies for tea with my sisters?”
“Zimpsy happy to do so!” cheered Zimpsy as she happily took both items from me. “Zimpsy will put sweets in Little Mistresses’ treat box.”
“Actually,” I spoke quickly before she could disappear. “I don’t want those. Please split them amongst my younger siblings, and leave it as a surprise for them to find.”
Her head cocked to the house-elf peered at me in concern. “Is someone bothering Little Mistress? Little Mistress can tell Zimpsy and Zimpsy will keep them away from Little Mistress,” Zimpsy declared quite enthusiastically.
Touched by the sweet house-elf’s concern, I smiled down at her. “Thank you, Zimpsy, but that won’t be necessary. I just can’t get myself to enjoy the sweets at the moment.”
Part of me considered bringing up Heir Flint’s unwanted gift, to order Zimpsy to arrange it so no mail from him could reach me like she offered, but then I thought better of it. There was a slim chance of Zimpsy keeping it to herself, but it was almost certain any of the other elves would tell Papa when they also learned of it. I could handle things with Heir Flint just fine and didn’t want to add to Papa’s existing worries. I had to stand strong as any Archard would, not hiding behind Papa or the house-elves.
The bright smile returned to Zimpsy’s face. “Zimpsy can do-” She cut herself off as the house-elf stood unnaturally still for a living creature. With a blink the sudden tension vanished. “Guests be arriving now, Little Mistress.”
I straightened at the news - Ernie had finally arrived. “Thank you, Zimpsy.”
“Zimpsy will do as Little Mistress commands,” the house-elf declared as she gave a quick curtsy before vanishing with a pop.
After checking my appearance in my mirror (and quickly smoothing back my curls under my wreath), I deemed myself presentable for guests and began my trek to the front hall to greet my cousin, and Uncle Reginald.
Je suis désolé = I’m sorry
Petite soeur = little sister
Oui = yes
Petites Soeurs = little sisters
Chapter 19: Fighting with Family
Chapter Text
Esme POV
I’d just reached the top of the stairs to see Paddy opening the front door as Papa, Maman, and all my older siblings waited nearby in the entryway of the front hall. The noise of pattering feet told me my younger siblings weren’t far behind me as I began descending the stairs. I settled beside Carlisle and Dustin as Papa and Maman took care of greeting our guests after Paddy had taken their cloaks.
Uncle Reginald pulled out a decently sized square wrapped package and a matching long rectangular box. He first presented the smaller one to Papa and then the larger square package to Alaric. “From me to you on this Yuletide.”
As Fain and Gérard crowded close to me, I heard Fain mutter to his twin, “Of course he only gets Alaric something.”
Blaire quickly shushed them with a small wave and a look, but it appeared pointless as Uncle Reginald’s head snapped towards the rest of us, his eyes narrowing with a displeased frown on his face.
Before he could utter a word, Papa spoke up, “On behalf of myself and my Heir, I thank you for your Yule gifts.” Yet Papa made no move towards opening the wrapped package in his hands. Instead, he plucked the square parcel from Alaric’s hands and passed both along to Paddy, who accepted both before promptly vanishing.
“Just as me and mine thank you for the gifts your elf delivered to us this morning,” replied Uncle Reginald before silence reigned as the three adults seemed to hold a silent conversation between them.
Tipper appeared with a sudden pop, interrupting the lengthy silence. “Mistress. Master. The table is prepared.”
“Thank you, Tipper,” Maman said as she smiled down at the middle-aged elf. “That will be all for now.”
Tipper bowed to Maman and then Papa before disappearing as quickly as she’d arrived.
While gesturing towards our dining room, Papa said, “Shall we?” and then offered his arm to Maman. She accepted and together they led the way into the dining room with Uncle Reginald following closely behind , while Ernie scurried to follow after his father. Alaric and Blaire led the way for the rest of us. I was glad we would be able to eat soon - my stomach was starting to hurt with hunger from fasting all day.
Arriving in the dining room, I noticed the table was formally set. Despite Uncle Reginald and Ernie no longer being strangers, Papa and Maman clearly still wanted to enforce a formal setting and etiquette (though I had a feeling it had more to do with Uncle Reginald than with Ernie). While Alaric settled into his designated seat as heir with Blaire settling in next to him, Carlisle cut off Ernie before he could reach what was supposed to be his seat next to Uncle Reginald. Dustin wordlessly followed his twin and took the chair next to him, leaving Ernie standing there nervously as he glanced between the chair next to Dustin and his father.
When Uncle Reginald didn’t even glance over at his son, I gently pushed Ernie towards the chair next to Dustin. Taking Fain’s hand in mine, I led us to the other side of the table. The rest of my younger siblings easily figured out where they should be sitting. Carlisle and Dustin’s last-minute choice left me now sitting between Blaire and Fain and across from Ernie, who was situated between Dustin and Gérard. Henrik was next to Gérard, with Isabelle sitting across from him and next to Fain, leaving Janette to keep her place at the end of the table all the way across from Papa.
Papa cleared his throat, so we each hurried and placed our palms up on the table. Once we all had done so Papa began the blessing. “As we gather round this ladened table, we give thanks to Mother Magic for her blessings. The land is cold, and the sky is gray. The nights are dark, but we have our family. Kin and House have gathered around this ladened table. We give thanks to Mother Magic for her blessings, may it continue to burn brightly from this Yuletide on.”
“We give thanks,” we chanted together.
I felt the soft and warm brush of magic before curling my hands closed and placing them into my lap. With the Blessing of the Feast given, we were free to eat and talk amongst ourselves.
“I did want to thank everyone for the gifts you sent,” Ernie said shyly. “I’m really looking forward to using the gift brochure at Magical Menagerie. I’m hoping I’ll be able to find a familiar, or at the very least get an owl of my own.” He then tilted his head to see around the centerpiece to look directly at me. “And I don’t even know how you knew I wanted one, but thank you for the gold Comet Ball, Esme.”
Returning the smile he gave me, I replied, “I have my ways.” Those ‘ways’ actually being Blaise and his somewhat frightening skill of knowing a little of everything from ‘a little birdy’. Between what Blaise was able to find out for me and Blaire’s flair for thoughtful gift giving, we were able to get five things we were confident Ernie would like for Yule to accompany the nice pocket watch Maman and Papa bought for our cousin.
“Honestly Ernest, where are the manners I have tirelessly tried to teach you,” scolded Uncle Reginald.
Ernie’s eyes snapped to his plate as his head bowed in shame. “Sorry, Father.”
“There really is no need for the children to be so formal with one another, brother,” interjected Maman. “They are family and attend school together after all.”
“While you may allow such laxness in etiquette for your children, I will not tolerate such a thing within my own House."
There was a moment of stiff silence, then a sudden screech of metal against porcelain interrupted the stare off between Maman and Uncle Reginald. The source of the sound was Papa, who while pretending to calmly eat was sending Uncle Reginald a sharp look.
Uncle Reginald cleared his throat as he turned his attention to Alaric. “Regardless, Ernest for once was able to enlighten me of important news. I must give my congratulations, twelve O.W.L.s are impressive, even more so when ten of them are Outstandings and only two are Exceeds Expectations.” Uncle Reginald then addressed Papa. “To have such a brilliant and talented young wizard as your heir. Ha! You are the envy of many lords in the Wizengamot, Ashton.” Uncle Reginald laughed away his own implied envy.
I scowled down at my plate. Next to me, Blaire muttered, “Hypocrite,” under her breath. Hypocrite indeed, he’s the one with no manners, not Ernie.
Meanwhile, Alaric interrupted Uncle Reginald’s laughter. “Actually Lord Macmillan, you’ve confused my sister’s scores for my own. My Lord Father and Lady Mother are quite proud of my brilliant and talented sister, the brightest witch in our Year. I myself only acquired nine O.W.L.s, five of them being Outstandings.”
Uncle Reginald sputtered for a bit. “Oh, well…still, nine O.W.L.s are an accomplishment.”
“Indeed,” interjected Papa after wiping his mouth with his napkin. “My eldest children did well on their examinations, equal measure for their intelligence and hard-work while simultaneously attending to their other duties and activities.”
“Our brilliant Blaire was chosen as one of the Gryffindor school prefects, while our dear Alaric has retained his position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team,” added Maman. “Our charmers Carlisle and Dustin have also continued to play for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, while darling Esme has continued to flourish in Slytherin House.” Turning her gaze away from Uncle Reginald, she addressed Ernie with a noticeably gentler tone. “Speaking of Hogwarts, how are you doing, dear Ernie? I was so sorry to hear what happened to your friend. The entire thing is simply dreadful.”
Ernie flinched, but before he could even attempt to reply to Maman, Uncle Reginald scoffed. “Dreadful? Really, sister, must you be so dramatic over some silly little pranks?”
“Do you truly believe this business with the chamber to be pranks?” asked Maman, her usual smile gone and replaced by a disapproving frown. “Children are being attacked .”
“ Hardly . No one has actually been harmed, petrification is entirely reversible.”
“How can you be this unconcerned?” asked Maman, no longer tempering the tone of her voice.
“How can you be this sensitive?” Uncle Reginald shot back. “It’s only been two Mud-ggleborns, your children and the majority of Hogwarts students will be quite safe.”
I was entirely surprised to find that my opinion of Lord Macmillan could sink lower. How in Mother Magic’s name was he Maman’s brother? They were entirely different people.
Thud! Clatter.
Everyone startled when Papa slammed his hand onto the wooden table, causing the table settings to rattle from the force of it.
“I do believe this has migrated into an inappropriate table discussion, one best left abandoned entirely around young ears.” Papa’s tone left no room for misinterpretation - this was an order, not a suggestion.
Lord Macmillan may have started it with Maman, but Papa certainly ended it; though the damage remained. Poor Ernie was shaking in his chair, his eyes clenched shut as he curled into himself, shoving his hands into his lap. I sent a concerned look across the table to Dustin. He sighed before I saw his arm move over towards Ernie, his hand unseen under the table. It remained there, locked in place. Ever so slowly, Ernie’s shaking subsided. I found this continued rage my normally shy and earnest cousin carried around inside him a bit worrying. I didn’t know how I’d feel in his position, but could only pray to Mother Magic that Ernie would receive the comfort and support he needed from his Housemates. I didn’t dare pray for things to resolve themselves soon - not when things felt far from over.
An awkward silence hung over the rest of the feast after the halted argument between Maman and Lord Macmillan. Everyone focused on their plates, unanimously agreeing to get the feast over with as soon as possible. Time passed painfully slowly, but eventually we finally reached the end of the feast as the last of the food vanished.
Maman clapped her hands twice, the noise sounding particularly loud after such oppressive silence. “Children, perhaps it is time for some fresh air? Dessert will be served in an hour or two.”
“Of course, Mother” - “ Oui , Maman” - “Yes, ma’am”, were our various responses, before my youngest siblings all scrambled out of their seats and the dining room - clearly eager to make their escapes. The rest of us politely excused ourselves and filed quickly out.
The dining room doors shut securely behind us. We barely made it down the hallway when Dustin spoke up, “Five galleons le salaud anglais picks the same fight with Mother.”
“That’s a sucker’s bet, no deal,” replied Carlisle without missing a beat.
“Hush the subject now,” interjected Blaire, her eyes firmly placed on our cousin who sedately walked a small distance in front of our small cluster. “Father was right, it shouldn’t be talked about in front of our younger siblings.”
“I think Papa meant all of us when he said that,” I said, as we rounded the corner of the hallway.
“Regardless,” Alaric said in a near whisper. “Father and Mother both have kept this news from them for a reason, so let us not go against their wishes on this.”
“Isabelle very well might ask questions. Janette too even,” Carlisle pointed out. Henrik might not, but Fain and Gérard just as easily could ask after what happened, I internally added.
“Not if their attention is successfully diverted,” Blaire pointed out just before we reached the entryway. Our hushed discussion officially ended as we rejoined the five youngest and dressed in our winter cloaks and such. I chose to remove my holly wreath alongside most of my siblings in exchange for a warm hat.
Once we were all bundled up for the chilly evening air, we gathered outside near the edge of the fountain. Blaire clapped her hands together once, quickly grabbing everyone’s attention. “With so much perfect snow available, it would be a shame to waste it.” Her focus shifted to rest entirely on our younger siblings. “I wonder which of the five of you can make the best snowman?”
Fain huffed. “That sounds boring.” With Gerard nodding his head to show his agreement with his twin.
“Winner gets to pick the next group game,” I interjected, not bothering with an ounce of subtlety for once. The rest of us needed to talk, but I was more concerned with checking on Ernie; he clearly was not okay.
All five of them looked suddenly more interested in Blaire’s challenge - a little incentive goes a long way. Each immediately hurried off to claim their own area in the yard and began earnestly gathering snow together. With our youngest siblings now fully distracted, the rest of us huddled together, Ernie situated between Carlisle and I.
It was Dustin who broke the silence by bluntly asking Ernie, “So are you going to talk or just wait until you explode like last time?”
Ernie’s already tense posture tightened further. I gently wrapped my hands around his clenched fists at his side. “Please talk to us, Ernie.”
My eyes widened as he ripped away from my grip only to crush me against his lanky frame, trapping my arms at my sides. As he shoved his face into my hair in a hug, I felt his body slightly shake as he took uneven breaths. I had no idea if he was shaking in anger or sadness, though it could very well be both.
“Use your words,” Blaire gently prompted as she inched closer to Ernie’s back.
I felt Ernie take a few more shuddering breaths before he shifted his face so his cheek rested against my head. With my arms still trapped, I did my best to stay relaxed in Ernie’s still tight hold. “Father...he…”
“What did that salaud do this time?” asked Carlisle.
Blaire’s normal admonishment for swear words remained unsaid as we all waited for Ernie to gather his words.
“I’d written Father about everything, but he hadn’t replied to any of them. I’d thought perhaps he hadn’t the words, that was, until I arrived at the manor for school break. Father hadn’t brought any of it up so I did and he said…he called me a fool for being so concerned over a silly little prank on some ‘nobody of a wannabe wizard’. Then proceeded to lecture me on the importance of focusing on my studies since I’m so utterly unremarkable as is.”
“Ernie…” Blaire gasped, her voice thick with her emotions. I didn’t blame her; I was torn between taking over our embrace to comfort Ernie and storming inside to hex Lord Macmillan something fierce.
“Later Father even spoke highly of Potter’s creativity of his so-called prank as he began to happily reminisce about attending Hogwarts with Potter’s father and the many pranks he got to witness his group unleash upon others.” His arms tightened even further as his voice became watery. “And through it all, I just stayed silent. I didn’t try to defend Justin, not even once. I couldn’t even call out how horrendous these so-called pranks of Potter’s father sounded. I just sat there in complete silence, listening to him be impressed with Potter’s actions.”
Between two beats of Ernie’s heart against my cheek, my siblings pressed themselves around the two of us and squeezed us into the center of a group hug. I managed to finally wiggle my arms into a more comfortable angle and snaked them around Ernie’s waist to hug him even closer.
It wasn’t long before I felt a cold dampness begin to spread on the top of my head as the tears Ernie had been holding back were silently being released.
“While there are a multitude of words I’d like to say about Reginald,” Alaric’s in clear anger from the left of me. “I refuse to waste my breath on him. He’s the fool, Ernie, a fool who spews nothing but rubbish from his mouth.”
“Finch-Fletchley is also going to be entirely alright once Professor Sprout’s mandrakes mature,” added Carlisle from my right. “To him, it will be as if he blinked between the span of two breaths.”
“Neither boy who’s been petrified are in any pain,” Blaire explained softly. “Nor will either suffer any lasting damage.”
“He’s truly not in any pain?” asked Ernie in such a heart-wrenchingly small voice.
“Absolutely none whatsoever,” reassured Blaire. “Madame Pomfrey was adamant about that fact when I asked her.”
“It’s still not fair.”
“None of it is,” I mumbled against his chest.
Silence hung between the six of us as slowly Ernie’s breathing became more even and his arms loosened around my shoulders.
“Ready to face the younger ones?” asked Blaire.
Before Ernie could answer, Dustin spoke, “You better be, cause Isabelle is skipping her way over here despite Henrik trying to stop her.”
“I’m fine,” said Ernie, though the flatness of his voice wasn’t very reassuring.
Still, everyone pulled away from the group embrace, but when I felt Ernie begin to pull away from me, I clutched onto his cloak, keeping him right where he was. Letting my older siblings handle Isabelle and the others, I remained focused on Ernie.
Tilting my head slightly up to look him in the eye, I told him firmly, “It’s not Potter who’s done everything, but it’s only a matter of time before whoever has been behind these attacks is found and rightly punished for their actions.”
Ernie didn’t say anything right away as his eyes remained locked on mine. I could see it plain as day reflected in his eyes, Ernie still believed it was Potter. His anger was still burning in his eyes, but it was a candle to the bonfire that was his hurt and concern for his friend.
“We can head inside, if you’d like, just the two of us,” I offered softly. “I can ask Honny to make us cocoa, and we can do whatever you’d like.”
He considered my offer before he pulled away to look over where everyone else was now gathered around the lopsided snowmen my younger siblings had managed to form so far. “Thank you, but being out here with everyone…it’d be nice to have something happy to focus on.”
“Then we can join in the fun,” I easily accepted. “Do you want to build a snowman together?”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
I released my grip on his cloak as we both ambled our way over to the others, carefully walking through the fluffy snow.
“Thanks, you know, for before,” whispered Ernie.
I smiled at him as I paused briefly to take his hand in mine once more. “No thanks needed. We’re family.”
Ernie squeezed my hand as emotion swelled in his eyes before he visibly shoved it down with a deep breath. Releasing his hand, I followed over to where he was declaring to the others that we would surely build the best snowman, further igniting my siblings’ competitiveness. Soon enough all my older siblings joined in the fun and were either building their own snowmen or were helping other siblings with theirs.
The feast certainly hadn’t started out well, but in the end I’d say we turned things around and managed to have a great Yule (everyone staunchly ignored Lord Macmillan once we were back inside), surrounded by the warm glow of the blue burning Yule log of the and the comfort of family.
Oui = yes
Le salaud anglais = the English bastard
Salaud = bastard
Extra POV
Diaspora POV
My anger at Reggie stewed within my chest as the children quickly made their way out of the dining room. How could he have such blatant disregard for his own son’s wellbeing? His lack of concern for the attacks aside, his inability to even acknowledge, let alone validate, dear Ernie’s feelings over his best friend being petrified was appalling.
I found his continued poor treatment of his only child to be deeply concerning and entirely out-of-character for the little brother I thought I knew. I may have been entirely ignored by my father (he never saw value in a daughter when he had a son), but the person Reginald was proving himself to be was far too similar to Alfred Macmillan for my liking.
The sound of the dining room doors shutting almost echoed through the oppressive silence. Ashton cleared his throat before taking a sip of wine. “With the children now occupied elsewhere, I believe it would be prudent for this discussion to continue, lest things are left to fester beneath the surface.”
Reggie avoided my eyes as he turned to address my husband. “Apologies Lord Archard, I feel as if everything that needs to be said has been. My sister simply cannot help but be emotional, it is her nature after all.”
Oh I would not stand for Reginald’s attempt to dismiss me. He may be my little brother (who clearly is trying entirely too desperately to be on equal footing with Ashton), but he was not ranked above me anymore. “My nature as a witch, or one of someone who actually cares for children? Because you have shown zero thought or concern towards your own son.”
He sighed as he faced me once more from across the table. “Honestly Dia, why are you so upset? Yes, it has been frustrating to be constantly disappointed when he fails to meet the same standards Father held for me, but I have continued to try and make Ernest better. He can only improve if he knows where he fails. I’m only raising him as we were.”
“No Reggie, that is not how we were raised,” I snapped back. “That is how you were raised by Father! I was a girl, so he ignored me, left me to be minded by Mother. And I loved our parents, I did, and may Mother Magic continue to watch over their souls, but Father was not someone you should be emulating. You can deny it now all you want, but I know you hated growing up in that strict household as much as I did. I had truly believed that like me, you would do better once you had your own family, but clearly I was wrong. I do not know if Father actually managed to destroy the sweet little brother I remember, or if the loss of Emilia is what made you this way. Either way, I can hardly recognize you now.”
“I was eleven when you left,” Reggie practically yelled. “Of course I’m not the same, don’t be daft! From the day I was born, I was Father’s heir. He raised me to carry and push forward our Noble House and I am doing the same with my own heir. It’s just not something you’d understand.”
I resisted the urge to scoff at the traditionalist views Reginald spouted, trying so hard to be our father. I should have seen it earlier. “I understand bearing the weight of a Noble House just fine, what I do not and cannot understand is how against all odds, Ernie is who he is. A loyal friend to all, no matter where they come from, not hyper fixated on how the ‘right’ people perceive him. Someone who cares about the hurts others receive, and is an honest young wizard who works so hard to please you when it is clear you will look for any excuse to find fault in your only child. He embodies a Hufflepuff better than you likely ever did.”
Reginald did not resist his own urge and scoffed, rolling his eyes at me as he sneered, “You have absolutely no right to criticize how I raised my heir when you left, left without a backwards glance. You ran all the way to France, leaving me to care for both Father and Mother as they slowly died of Dragon Pox in the midst of Britain’s Second Wizarding War. All while you sat prettily as a lady forming the family you always wanted. I am the Head of the Family of the Noble House of Macmillan, not you, so stay in your corner, Witch.”
Ashton’s chair scraped harshly against the floor as he stood with both hands resting on the table. Reginald blinked as at the interruption, his face paling as he seemed to remember the presence of my husband.
Ashton appeared to loom over him as Reginald shrank back into his own chair. “May I remind you , Lord Macmillan, while Diaspora may be your sister, she is also my Lady-Wife, of the Ancient and Royal House of Archard.” Ashton’s tone was colder than ice. “You dare to speak down to her in our own home, when you are our guest for this sacred sabbath?”
A different sort of heavy silence now filled the air.
Ashton’s cold fury quickly cooled Reginald’s once heated demeanor as he quickly bowed his head in deference to Ashton. “I apologize, Lord Archard, I forgot myself. I did not mean to give disrespect as a guest in your home.”
I noticed Ashton’s eyes narrow minutely as his jaw tightened as he continued to stare down my brother. Reginald’s apology did nothing to calm the situation. “I think it best if this discussion is dropped, such a deplorable absence of manners should not be demonstrated any further.”
Reginald continued to poorly hide his cowering as he swallowed hard. “Indeed, Lord Archard.”
Slowly, Ashton retook his seat as he carefully fixed several imaginary wrinkles on his sleeves. His image of a proper gentleman was entirely ruined by the intense presence he was still exuding. One could strip Ashton of his clothes, title, or even his magic, and still he would retain the power he was keeping tightly coiled around him. It was something that many lacked, as it could not be faked, bought, or even taught, it was something one had to be born with. Reginald lacked it, though he tried to fake it as well as he could, tonight had proven it.
Though tonight also taught me something else - Reginald was not my little brother Reggie I remembered, and I could not pretend otherwise anymore. He was a near stranger to me now and going forward, I would have to treat him as I did any other member of the Social Elite. It only went to remind me why I treasured my friendship with Andy so much - it was so rare to find true friendship amongst the games we must play.
Chapter 20: Boy Meets Wizard
Chapter Text
Esme POV
It’d been a few days since Yule, and the mansion was abuzz with excitement as my sisters and I gathered in Maman and Papa’s room to once again get ready for the Winter Ball. Janette and especially Isabelle were still quite petulant over not being able to attend for another three years. If it wasn’t for the triplets being completely enamoured with Tonks, Isabelle no doubt would’ve thrown Mother Magic knew how many tantrums over being left behind. As it was, they were excited to see Tonks for the first time since the summer. Henrik was looking forward to practicing his Magical sensing with the Auror-In-Training. While neither Janette or Isabelle had shown an innate talent for it, I knew both would still enjoy playing Hide-and-Seek.
Maman was having both younger girls assist her in picking out the accessories we would be wearing tonight while Blaire and I washed. I could visibly see the nervous energy wafting off Blaire as she applied lotion. As I continued to carefully brush my hair, unable to help myself, I teased, “Thinking about George? Or perhaps just in general about tonight? I don’t know which is worse, George officially interacting with Papa as your boyfriend, or him braving the waters of polite society?” I giggled slightly at the thought.
When Blaire remained silent, I glanced over and my amusement fled as I saw her face lined with stress. Setting the hairbrush on the counter I gave her my full attention. “I was only joking, Blaire. Everything will be okay and I’m sure you and George will have fun tonight if only because you’re there together. I know he’ll be great.”
“Thank you, petite soeur, ” Blaire replied after a long pause. And while the lines on her face smoothed out, her posture remained stiff and tense.
When I couldn’t think of anything else to say, I left Blaire alone with her thoughts and continued getting ready. I truly did think everything would be alright at the ball. George and Fred had demonstrated far more social awareness than their younger brother, and George was completely smitten with Blaire. There wasn’t doubt in my mind that George could handle anything thrown at him during the ball. And should someone actually send some sort of veiled barb his way, Blaire would easily be able to handle it. Papa, on the other hand, I was unsure how things would go with him. His protectiveness had been at an all-time high this year so far, yet surely Maman would provide a cooling balm, or at least be there to intervene should Papa become too intense.
Finishing in the washroom, Blaire and I returned to the room to see Maman had carefully laid out our accessories on the vanities, with our shoes placed near the stools. I recognized the same low silver heels I’d worn last year, which would be a good match with the soft pink colour of my gown. I didn’t know if Blaire’s shoes were new or old, but either way, the shimmering golden heels were gorgeous. I hadn’t seen what Blaire’s gown looked like yet, and as for colour I could only guess it would not be red like last year, because one beauty rule Maman always favoured was to dress with variety when not restrained from doing so.
After stepping into my heels, I removed the bath robe Maman had laid out for me in the washroom as Janette, eager to help, carefully carried over my gown from where it was hanging up. “Do I need to hold it?” asked Janette as she stared at the beaded top and fluffy skirt of feathers.
“I think I’ll be fine,” I replied as I carefully stepped into my gown. However, I quickly realized I actually would need some help - just not anything Janette would be able to help with. I definitely wouldn’t be able to lace the dress up without assistance and despite my best efforts I couldn’t get the clasp around my neck holding up the top to latch into place.
Looking over to Maman to ask for her help, I saw she was almost done with Blaire. I took a moment to appreciate Blaire’s gown and found it really suited her. The gown had no sleeves and was a dark and rich navy blue colour. The bodice top was detailed with shimmering gold embroidery in an ivy-like paisley design. The full skirt was gathered at her right hip and showed off smaller golden embroidery around the bottom hem. George would be made speechless by my beautiful sister!
Once Maman finished tying up the back of Blaire’s dress, I called out, “Maman?”
She looked over to me and smiled. “I will be right over to help you, petite papillon .” She then glanced over to Janette who was gently petting some of the pink feathers on my skirt. “Darling, why don’t you show Blaire the beautiful hair clasp you picked out for her? Then you and Isabelle can watch your sister put her makeup on.”
Janette nodded and made her way to where her twin was already eagerly waiting by one of the vanities. Blaire soon joined them as Maman turned and put her own shoes on before making her way over to me.
First, she moved aside my hair in order to see the back of my neck. “Now dear one, please tell me if this is too tight or too loose.”
“I will.”
Once I felt her latch the clasp into place, I took a deep breath before carefully attempting to swallow, only to force it before gasping when I felt the constricting feeling of the material around my throat. “It’s a little tight.”
"One moment, darling.” I heard rustling behind me before I felt the gentle tap of Maman’s wand against the side of my throat. Immediately I felt the cloth choker around my neck loosen. “How does it feel now?”
Once again I attempted to swallow and instantly relaxed; while I was aware the material was there the constricting feeling from before was gone. “Perfect.”
Maman then quickly tied up the back of my gown before gently nudging me towards the open vanity. “Your sisters selected a pink sapphire set for you to wear, though I would forgo the necklace since your gown has a halter top. Anything you wear around your neck may catch on the beading.”
“ Oui , Maman,” I agreed before joining my sisters at the vanities.
Blaire had already finished putting on her own jewelry set - gold and what was likely sapphires since they matched the rich blue of her gown so well. She was doing her eye makeup while Isabelle and Janette were both riffling through the different lipsticks and glosses lying out, likely trying to find the ‘perfect’ one for Blaire to wear. Sitting off to the side of her vanity was a large golden hair clasp of two lilies. Janette had done a fine job picking it out - it appeared to blend nicely with the embroidery on Blaire’s gown and no doubt would look wonderful in her hair.
Blaire glanced over at me as she finished evening out her makeup. “I can do your makeup again if you’d like?”
“Could you please do my eyes? You’re better at it.”
“Of course, petite papillon .”
As Blaire picked out what she’d need for me, I turned my attention to our younger sisters. “Would you also find some gloss for me to wear? I’m thinking something pink.” Both acknowledged they heard me as they continued to riffle through everything.
Facing Blaire on the stool, I followed all her gentle directions as she carefully applied the makeup with the ease of experience.
“Tipper,” Maman called out from behind us. I didn’t dare move when the house-elf appeared shortly with a soft pop, not wanting to cause any makeup smudges.
“How can Tipper help, Mistress?” asked the cheerful elf.
“If you would please tighten my corset, then you can get started on the girls’ hair.”
“Right away, Mistress,” Tipper exclaimed happily. She really was the perfect elf for a Lady of the House - she loved helping Maman, my sisters, and I get ready for things.
“And~ done,” Blaire said several minutes later.
Opening my eyes, I looked into the mirror and smiled happily at what I saw. Blaire had applied a soft pink to my eyes and cheeks, as well as putting a dusting of silver glitter on my eyelids. “I love it!”
“You should wear this,” interjected Isabelle as she shoved a small tube in my face. Taking it from her hands I saw she had picked a very bright sparkling silver.
As I stared at the tube of lip gloss in my hands, I tried to figure out a nice way to say no to Isabelle - it was far too eye-catching for me to wear and would honestly clash badly.
Thankfully, Blaire came to my rescue. “That is indeed a pretty one, ma petite Belle, but remember you’re picking out something for Esme and not yourself.”
While she did pout, Isabelle conceded to Blaire’s gentle words and didn’t try to push the matter as she took it back from me.
“What about this one?” asked Janette, breaking the silence, as she hesitantly held out a different tube of lip gloss.
Taking it from her hand, I smiled happily. “This would be lovely, thank you.”
“Tipper ready to help with Little Mistresses’ hair!” announced Tipper as she bounced over to stand behind Blaire.
I carefully applied the lip gloss as Blaire described the type of bun she wanted to wear with the hair piece Janette has picked out for her. With a snap of Tipper’s fingers, she brought to life what Blaire wanted as the clasp easily levitated and was inserted delicately into the newly formed updo.
“Time for Little Mistress Esme!” declared Tipper once Blaire and the girls expressed their happiness over Blaire’s completed look.
Things halted when there was another telltale pop of a house-elf Apparating in. Looking over my shoulder I saw Paddy standing at attention in front of Maman, who was pulling on a light grey elbow glove to match the colour of her gown. While the colours were of the same, the material certainly wasn’t; not with Maman’s gown appearing to me made of gauze-like material layered on top of each other.
“Mistress, Miss Tonks arrived from the Floo,” intoned Paddy in his usual dry voice.
“Is Ashton unable to meet her?” asked Maman as she began to pull on her other glove.
“Master almost finished dressing the Little Masters.”
Maman hummed lightly. “Unfortunately, I am not quite done yet either. Please escort Tonks to the sitting room. I doubt she will be offended if neither of us can meet with her right away.”
“Miss Tonks gave Paddy a message to give to Master and Mistress.” Without prompting, he continued, “Watcher Lord and Lady Archard. I’m a bit early so don’t worry about me, I can wait for the ickle-Archards.”
I giggled softly at Tonk’s words coming being relayed in Paddy’s voice - the two did not match up well.
“Thank you, Paddy.”
“Paddy take Miss Tonks to sitting room,” the male elf announced before vanishing with a pop.
Maman turned her attention toward us. “Isabelle, Janette. Would you please go see Tonks? I am sure she would love the company and it is after all rude to leave a guest waiting all by themself.”
“ Oui , Maman!” cheered Isabelle before she bolted out of the room.
“No running indoors!” yelled Maman after her, before sighing in exasperation when we all heard a thud - no doubt from Isabelle tripping on the carpet.
“At least it wasn’t the stairs,” replied Blaire, her shoulders shaking in her amusement.
Shaking her head, Maman glanced down at Janette who hadn’t moved. “Darling?”
“Can’t I stay to watch Tipper do Esme’s hair?” pleaded Janette, her eyes wide as she clutched the skirt of her dress.
“Of course you can, sweetheart,” agreed Maman, smiling gently. “Your sister will keep Tonks entertained in the meantime.”
Turning myself around to face the vanity, I told the remaining elf in the room, “You can do what you think is best, Tipper.” I honestly didn’t have a preference or idea of what I wanted, so I was leaving myself in Tipper’s capable hands.
Tipper moved behind me and had a deep, considering look shining in her large eyes before she perked up suddenly. “Tipper has idea!” With a snap of the house-elf’s fingers, my hair came alive as the curls smoothed out into waves before the strands closest to my face were pulled back and braided along to the back of my head. Pink sapphire hair pins floated off the vanity and while I couldn’t see what Tipper was doing with them, I felt the pins slide into place in a circle at the back of my head - leaving me to guess she formed a small bun with the braid ends.
“That’s so pretty!” cheered Janette.
Turning so I could smile down at the house-elf, I agreed, “It really is. Thank you, Tipper.”
Tipper bounced up and down in her happiness before settling down. “Tipper happy Little Mistresses approve!”
As Tipper moved away to help Maman, Janette gave both Blaire and I hugs before she left to join her sister and Tonks in the sitting room. I was glad that her sadness over still not being able to attend the ball wasn't ruining her overall mood for the evening.
Facing the vanity once again, I proceeded to put on all but the necklace laid out for me. Blaire had to help me get the bracelet on, and once she did I stood to look at myself fully in the mirror. I smiled brightly as I twirled slowly, loving how the feathers appeared to float despite my skirt not flaring out all that much.
“Thank you, Tipper. That will be all.”
“Tipper be returning to her duties then.” With a quick bow and pop Tipper disappeared.
Turning around I smiled to see Maman looking as beautiful as ever. While her gown flared out more than mine did, it wasn’t quite as full as Blaire’s, having a sleekness to it that may have something to do with the gauze-like material the gown was made of. It had delicate branches embroidered all over the bodice that shimmered down past her fitted waist before tapering off a foot or so from the bottom hem. Sparkling ice crystals were sewn across the branches which truly encompassed the beauty of a winter in the early morning. Her hair was gathered into a large bun at the top of her head and she wore long dangling earrings which matched the ice crystals on her dress. I couldn’t see any other jewelry on Maman besides her Crest Bracelet resting over her satin gloves.
“You look beautiful,” I breathed out.
“As do you both, my darlings.” Maman suddenly tilted her head slightly. “It appears someone else has arrived on the grounds. Likely George Weasley, since Tonks has already arrived.” Without a further word, Maman exited, likely to greet George at the door.
“ Merde !” Blaire suddenly swore as she scrambled for her own jewelry, “I’m not ready yet!”
“It’s alright, Blaire,” I reassured her. “We’re not running late or anything.”
“That’s not why I’m hurrying,” she replied as she finished clasping on her necklace and quickly moved on to putting in her earrings.
“It’s just Maman meeting him, he’ll be fine.”
“Father also felt when he arrived, Esme. I doubt he’d let one of the horse-elves be the one to open the door for George.”
My eyes widened as I realized she was right. I quickly sent a prayer to Mother Magic that Maman made it there in time so George wasn’t left alone with Papa for too long, or, better yet, not at all.
Blaire finished and glanced at herself in the mirror, turning her head from side to side. “Does everything look okay?”
“You look absolutely perfect, just remember to breathe,” I reminded her as I noted the tension had returned to her shoulders.
“Right.” Blaire took a deep breath and the visible tension vanished, though I doubted the stress and worry she felt was gone.
“Time to strike your escort dumb with your beauty,” I teased as I took Blaire’s hand in mine.
She squeezed my hand before leading the two of us towards the entrance way. I squeezed her hand back - everything would be just fine, I just knew it.
Petite soeur = little sister
Petite papillon = little butterfly (female)
Oui = yes
Ma petite = my little (female)
Merde = shit
Extra POV
George POV
When Blaire invited me to the hoity toity Winter Ball, my first thought was ‘Merlin’s saggy balls, no’. But when I saw the hopefulness shining in her gorgeous blue eyes, those weren't the words to come out of my mouth. Instead, I agreed, and the deep pit in my stomach vanished when I saw the blinding smile stretch across her face. Then I thought, yes, I could do this for her - if only for that smile to stay on her face.
However, that conviction from then started to waver as I stood in front of Mum’s full-length mirror as she fussed over me. I didn’t actually own any dress robes; in fact, the only one of us that owned any nice dress robes was Dad for the rare Ministry function he attended. Despite being nearly as tall as Dad, I wasn’t quite as broad in the shoulders as him - not to mention lanky around the middle where he was wide. So, Mum had to spell Dad’s robes to fit me.
Currently she fretted over every little seam as she muttered under breath about looking sharp, clean, and presentable as if the three words were spells in of themselves. The robes were far nicer than any of the hand-me-downs Fred or I got from our older brothers. Merlin, they were better than anything even Percy got second-hand as a reward for being the prissy-swot he was. The robe and pants matched, being the same rich black as each other with no visible signs that I saw of any wear or fading. There was a green fleur-de-lis design on the robe so dark it practically blended into the blackness of everything else. I didn’t even know there was a pattern before Mum started manhandling me about and I saw the light catch on it. I was wearing a dark green shirt to match, and a black tie - sorry, no, Mum called it cravat, with this fancy looking gold pin Mum had dug out of the attic which apparently belonged to one of her brothers. A matching pair of gold cufflinks once belonging to her other brother were also forced on me. I didn’t see the need for them, and her lecturing to definitely not lose them wasn't helping my nerves at all.
Every second that passed closer to the time I was supposed to arrive at Heaven’s Garden, my nerves kept increasing. I regretted agreeing to this entire thing - being shoved in this monkey suit which felt like it was shrinking with every harsh tug Mum was giving, meeting Blaire’s parents for the first time as her boyfriend, and attending a fancy ball amongst Britain’s High Society. Percy could take his envy and jealousy and shove it up his arse, yet, I couldn’t help but agree with him angry muttering over my age and ‘uncouthness’ as Mum continued to nitpick my appearance as she went over all the things I wasn’t allowed to do tonight and other behavior don’ts.
“-really, I do wonder how such a smart girl like Blaire would choose you to escort her to the Winter Ball. Relationship or not, you’re hardly suited for such a setting. Really, George, you should try to be just like Percy tonight and hopefully you won’t embarrass the Archards too much. You can’t behave as you normally do in front of so many important witches and wizards. I can hardly imagine what people will think when they see Blaire Archard on the arm of my son.”
Ignoring the stabbing sensation that deepened the pit in my stomach, I muttered, “People know we’re dating at Hogwarts, Mum. It’s not all that much of a shock I’d go with her.”
Fred poked his head in from the hallway. “The two of them were the talk of the school when they finally started holding hands in the corridors. And there was that one time they were found snogging-”
“- George! ” exclaimed Mum in a scandalized voice.
I quickly cleared the air. “He’s lying, Mum! We’ve never been caught snogging!”
“ Caught?! ” she shrieked, “You better be treating Blaire like the lady she is! There’s enough talk about our family as is, I don’t need you adding to it with improper behavior in the Hogwarts’ corridors or broom closets!”
“So it’s fine everywhere else then?” asked Fred impishly. Never before had I wanted to smack my own twin so strongly.
“ No! Don’t put ideas in your brother’s head, Fred!” Mum gave Fred the smack I so wanted to give him.
Fred ducked from her second swing as he retreated back into the hallway. “Honestly woman, I was only joking!” He yelled back as he vanished down the stairs.
The wind vanished behind Mum’s broom when Ginny poked her head into the room. “Oh you look so handsome! I bet Blaire’s gonna be so pretty too! Will you two be matching? You’ll be sure to dance, right? Oh, you have to, so you can tell me about it!”
My head spun as it tried to take in all her excitable words - she was talking nearly as fast as Granger did when she got obsessed about a particular school topic.
“I doubt they’ll be matching,” answered Mum. “Blaire will be wearing a gown in the latest fashion and your father’s robes are already nearly twenty-three years old.” She began to fuss over my hair despite her having already styled it to her liking before. “Oh~ are you sure you washed your hair, it’s looking a bit flat, dear.”
That was because you keep touching it! I thought to myself.
Ginny opened her mouth, I didn’t know if it was to help me or fire off more questions, when Dad stepped into the room. “Now girls, I believe George and I should get going if we want to get to Heaven’s Garden on time. We shouldn’t keep the Archards waiting now.”
Praise Merlin for Dad as Mum finally stopped fussing and fretting as she ushered the two of us out the door with one final reminder to behave properly like Percy. Walking down the driveway, I felt like my limbs were made of wood with the sheer amount of tension flowing through my body. I couldn’t do this…I shouldn’t do this-
“I can see steam coming out of your ears from your worrying,” Dad spoke up from where he was walking beside me. His oddly calm voice broke through my spiraling thoughts like a beater’s bat.
“What’s there to be worried about? All I have to do is be like Percy and everything will be fine.” That came out a tad more bitter than I intended.
“Don’t take what your mum said before to heart. You know how she gets when she worries.”
I shrugged my shoulders, not sure how to reply, so I stayed silent.
Dad let out a long sigh. “Now I know this may sound hard to hear, but she was wrong. You don’t need to act like Percy, or any of your brothers tonight. If Blaire Archard wanted to attend with any of them, she would’ve asked them. But she chose you, because it is you who she likes. And I’d bet my wand, Blaire wouldn’t want you to be anyone else but yourself tonight. You’re a bright, capable young wizard, who, despite the grey hairs you and Fred give me, I am very proud of. The two of you have the rare gift of true creativity, one that never fails to provide me with an endless supply of stories to tell my coworkers. The two of you have never lacked the strength to be yourselves. So take a few breaths if you need to, and remember, while it is important to be respectful, don’t take any dragon shit from anyone. I’m confident you’ll be able to handle yourself tonight amongst the swarm of grindylows that are the Magicals of High Society.”
Listening to Dad, I took those breaths as the deep pit of anxiety was filled with a warm glow. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I got to spend any real alone time with Dad. With him working so much, any time he had to spare for us was just that, spent with all of us at once. It felt nice, for however short of time it lasted.
“Well, this is where I leave you,” said Dad as we completed the walk between The Burrow and Heaven’s Garden, having reached the edge of Archard’s paved driveway. Dad placed both his hands on my shoulders, providing a comforting sort of squeeze. “Remember what I taught you about a handshake - keep it firm but don’t squeeze too tight. Don’t worry about anyone’s names, anyone with a lick of manners will introduce themselves foremost. And have fun tonight with your girlfriend, but not too much fun - I’m far too young to be a grandfather.
Any calm I managed to find vanished with the last of his words as I felt my face flush as scarlet as my hair. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was glowing through the dimness of the setting sun. “Dad~!”
Dad burst out in a hearty laugh as he released my shoulders. “We’ll leave a light on for you. Now go get ’em.” With his final words, he spun me around and gave me a light shove.
I quickly put some distance between Dad and I (entirely fuelled by my embarrassment). I heard his continued laughter fade away the further I walked up the driveway. As I finally reached the front doors, I felt my nerves start to return so I took a few more breaths before knocking on the door. I barely finished my third rapt when the door swung open. I froze wide-eyed when I realized Blaire’s dad was the one to answer the door accompanied by one of their many house-elves.
‘Say something, you blithering idiot!’ my mind screamed at me as Lord Archard continued to stare me down, face deadpan, but his eyes were hard and judging.
“G-good evening, Lord Archard,” I finally managed to say as I forced my hand to uncurl before shoving it in front of me. “It’s truly a pleasure to be able to escort Blaire tonight.”
However, Lord Archard just continued to stand there unmoving, not taking my hand, not even glancing at it as his eyes continued to pierce into my very soul. Do I keep my hand out, should I drop it - Merlin’s saggy balls, what do I do here?!
“If you hurt my little girl…what remains after she is done with you…”
Sweet Merlin…
Suddenly Lord Archard’s entire demeanor changed as he angled to the side. “ Ma amour. ”
And there, coming to my rescue was Lady Archard, as she practically floated across the floor to join arms with her husband. After giving Lord Archard a quick peck on the cheek with a soft, ‘dearest’ in greeting, she then turned her warm and bright smile towards me. “Winter’s greetings, George Weasley. Welcome once again to our home, please come in out of the cold.” She took my still-outstretched hand for a gentle shake.
“Winter’s greetings, Lady Archard,” I echoed her greeting as I remember Blaire had told me beforehand to use this specific greeting tonight.
She gave a tinkling little giggle. “Please, you can call me Diaspora, dear.”
I didn’t know if this was a test or not, but was saved from answering either way when I heard the blessed sounds of someone approaching us. Glancing over to the giant staircase, I was struck speechless by the absolute vision that was descending the stairs.
Sweet…Mother…Magic…blue was definitely my favourite colour now. Words failed me, as I couldn’t even think of how to describe how beautiful Blaire looked. She really was perfect - she had heart, brains, beauty, and was attractively scary when she wanted to be. Merlin, I really was the luckiest sod in the Magical world.
I blinked when I felt Blaire take hold of my hand and realized I’d missed something. Guessing that Blaire probably greeted me, I just went for it. “Winter’s greetings, Blaire,” I intoned while I pivoted our hands so I was now holding hers. I raised her hand as I ducked down to kiss her knuckles, doing my best to copy what I’d seen the few sticklers for etiquette do around Hogwarts. As I lowered her hand, I couldn’t help the impish smirk that crossed my face when I spotted the red dusting across her cheeks that weren’t there a second ago.
Ahem.
Hearing the soft noise, I glanced past Blaire to see her sister Esme being the only thing standing between me and their brothers. All but the ickle-twins were doing their best to imitate their father, though Alaric did nothing to smother the glare he was giving me and one of the blonde Hufflepuff twins was clearly finding more amusement than annoyance for some reason. The realization then struck me, and I stiffly turned to find Lord Archard’s already chilly demeanor had turned arctic.
Blaire’s mum giggled once again as she held onto her husband’s arm. “My, such a gentleman.” Her amusement was clearly not shared by Lord Archard but thank Merlin she was here because with a simple two claps of her hands the tension filled air vanished. “Since we are all here and ready, it is best we leave now if we are to arrive there on time.”
“Paddy,” Lord Archard commanded.
With a pop a wrinkled (clearly old) house-elf appeared before bowing to Blaire’s parents. “What can Paddy do for Master and Mistress?”
“Please Apparate Blaire’s escort and Alaric to Black Castle. You will not need to remain afterwards and may return to the grounds until I call for you later this night.”
“As Master commands,” the elf intoned with another bow to Lord Archard.
“Why does Paddy need to take them?” asked the youngest boy with the short hair. Having only met them once, I couldn’t remember which had the longer hair between them.
“Because while your father and I can handle Apparting with you all, adding George in addition would be dangerous,” explained Diaspora in a gentle voice. “Bad things may happen when any Magical tries to Apparate more than they can handle. So Paddy is taking Alaric and George to avoid anything bad from happening, while I take Esme, you, and your twin, and your father will take Blaire, Carlisle and Dustin.”
Which was a nice way of saying they were avoiding splinching any of us, which I was eternally grateful for. Fred and I had overheard Mum’s warnings to Charlie and Bill when they first started learning. She was far less gentle about the subject, but then again, Charlie and Bill were both seventeen while those two were only ten.
“Oh~” the two twins said together. I smiled in fondness to see that habit of Fred and I on a younger set of twins. I hoped like their elder siblings the two boys were eventually sorted into the same House. Fred and I had stumbled upon the ickle-Patil late at night in the Gryffindor common room missing her twin enough times to know it was hard on twins to be separated from someone you were used to always having by your side - especially after a rough night.
Paddy the house-elf then walked over to me and took hold of my left wrist, forcing me to bend down to accommodate our height difference. I stumbled as the house-elf continued walking. While I easily could’ve broken out of the elf’s grip, I probably would hurt him in the process. I’d heard Blaire’s lecture on how to properly treat house-elves, so I knew if I hurt him, Blaire would be upset, so I let the little old thing lead me over to where Alaric was standing.
“When Heir Master ready, Paddy will go.”
Unlike with me, Paddy raised his hand above his head for Alaric, so Alaric wouldn’t have to bend over to hold the elf’s hand. Alaric didn’t waste any time and took hold of the house-elf’s hand. I was given no warning before the feeling of being shoved through the tiniest hole possible overcame me.
Merlin, please don’t let me throw up.
Ma amour = my love (female)
Chapter 21: A New Winter Ball
Chapter Text
Esme POV
No matter how many times Maman or Papa Apparated me, it always left me feeling unsettled - both from vanishing in one place to appear in another and the nauseating sensation of spinning while being shoved in an entirely too small space. Yes, each time it grew easier to suppress the bile that wished to come up my throat, but I doubted I would ever get used to the sensation.
Finally taking stock of my surroundings, I spotted Papa waiting nearby with the others just outside the clearly marked paved circle on a stone path. Paddy was already gone; he was likely dismissed as soon as Papa arrived with Blaire, Carlisle, and Dustin. The entire Apparation Point was resting on a grassy knoll and given the various slow-moving cars and carriages, was surrounded by a circular driveway. Behind us was a grand fountain with a large statue in the center of a wizard I couldn’t identify in the fading light. I saw what I assumed was the Black family crest carved into the stone slab the statue stood upon.
“Step rightly now, my dears,” said Maman as she continued to steady Fain and Gérard. “We need to vacate the stone circle, lest the next arrivals land on top of us.”
Joining everyone else on the stone path, the twins found their footing quick enough for Maman to join Papa upfront as he led the way down the knoll and across the driveway to reach the grand looking stone bridge. Two stone pillars rested at the entrance with gothic-styled crow statues resting on top, each with a lantern hanging out from the pillar. I didn’t even have time to wonder why the bridge was necessary before I saw the reason for myself. The large castle across the bridge was surrounded by a moat - one that was beautifully decorated with floating paper lanterns calmly resting on the water’s surface.
Papa and Maman led the way across the bridge as we followed sedately behind a young couple dressed in matching dark velvet robes. Reaching the other side, the bridge connected to a stone courtyard with a Yule tree of equal size and splendor to the ones which decorated the Hogwarts’ great hall. It twinkled with silver and gold with various colourful ornaments decorated the large boughs. As we finally made our way around the large tree, we joined the small queue of waiting Magicals as each group paid their respects and greetings to the hosts of tonight’s ball.
Alaric and Blaire (and George) drifted up to stand near Maman and Papa to be on hand for the greetings. While I couldn’t see his face, George was walking quite stiffly. Blaire likely warned him he’d be involved in the welcome greetings. While normally Papa wouldn’t need to include Blaire specifically, tonight was different with George’s presence. While he was escorting Blaire, etiquette dictated that he was an Archard guest being included in our family invitation to this year’s Winter Ball. As such, it was Papa’s responsibility as Head of the Family to introduce George to Lord and Lady Black.
As the witch and wizard in front of us approached tonight’s hosts, I huddled close with my brothers behind the others as we waited below the small steps leading up the wide-open double doors.
“Welcome Lord and Lady Lestrange, I am pleased to have you in attendance for this solstice celebrations.”
Lestrange…I searched my memories, but I honestly couldn’t recall meeting or even hearing about anyone attending Hogwarts with that family name. With a noble title, the family no doubt had a seat on the Wizengamot, so Papa likely knew Lord Lestrange at least in passing. Though with how young both witch and wizard were, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the previous Head of the Family for Lord and Lady Lestrange to hold the titles they did.
I was broken from my thoughts by Carlisle and Dustin gently urging the twins and I forward from behind. As I joined the others on the landing alongside my brothers, I got my first look at Lord Black as he stood with a young couple at his side.
“Winter’s greetings and welcome Lord and Lady Archard. I am honoured to have you and your family in attendance for tonight’s solstice celebrations,” Lord Black gave both Papa and then Maman slight bows of respect. Straightening his shoulders, Lord back gestured to the young couple beside him. “May I present my son and heir, Marek, and his wife Lilianna.”
While Lilianna gave a graceful small curtsey, Marek bowed slightly deeper than his father had as he recited for the both of them. “We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Lord and Lady Archard. Welcome to Black Castle.”
“Thank you, we look forward to tonight’s festivities,” replied Maman while Papa nodded his head. She then asked, “Will your children be in attendance tonight?”
Lilianna smiled. “Yes, they’re gathered with the other children in the library. Tailly is available as a guide.”
“We thank you for the consideration,” replied Papa. He then gestured to Alaric. “May I present my first-born and heir, Alaric.” Alaric gave his own depth appropriate bow to the three Blacks before Papa continued. “May I also present my second-born, Blaire, and her escort for this evening, Mister George Weasley, and the rest of our children in attendance, Carlisle, Dustin, Esme, Fain, and Gérard.”
Lord Black, Marek, and Lilianna each briefly met our eyes before Lilianna announced as she gestured to us to enter the castle, “Flopsy and Mopsy will assist with any cloaks.”
Once we were in the entrance hall, two identical female house-elves appeared together, each dressed in a clean and pressed pillowcase tied together to form dresses. While these house-elves were denoted as slaves instead of servants, their cheerful and polite demeanor as they assisted us with removing our cloaks to float them away reassured me the elves serving the Blacks were treated well.
It seemed British Magicals were a bit of a mixed batch on how they treated their house-elves, if they had any to begin with. While visiting Daphne over the summer I saw their elves were clearly servants, though talking with Theo I learned his family’s elves were similar to how the Malfoy house-elves appeared and Blaise’s description sounded more like what I was seeing with the Black’s elves thus far.
While Flopsy and Mopsy were taking care of our winter cloaks, a third identical female house-elf appeared. Giving a small curtsy with her pillowcase dress she said, “Tailly can take guests to the ballroom and library.”
“Thank you, Tailly,” replied Maman. She and Papa took the lead of following the elf further into the castle.
Slowly following after my siblings, I took in the decor of the medieval-like castle. The white, grey, and black swirl-patterned tiled floor was softened with a plush carpet so dark it appeared black until the various gold and silver chandeliers hit it just right to reveal it was actually purple. The nearly black stone walls were mostly covered with various tapestries which all seemed to follow a theme of depicting planets, stars, and constellations outlining things, people, and animals. Interspersed amongst the tapestries were portraits of various witches and wizards. Many were greeting us politely while a few appeared bored with their surroundings as they ignored us entirely. All throughout the corridor and doorways were various sparkling Yule decorations of holly wreaths and garlands hanging with snow and ice decorating them showing no signs of melting.
As we continued down the wide corridor, the noise of a socializing crowd grew as we reached what was likely the ballroom. However, instead of leading us through the curved archway to our left, Tailly stopped and faced us.
“To guests’ right is the library and to left is the ballroom. Tailly shall leave guests here.” After a quick curtsy, the female elf vanished with pop, likely to help the next group of guests through the winding corridors of the Black Castle.
Maman and Papa turned to face the rest of us. “Do remember, children,” Papa addressed us, “to conduct yourselves with polite manner and dignity.” He cleared his throat. “That being said. Blaire, you and your escort will remain with your mother and I this evening.”
Before Blaire had the chance to voice any sort of response to Papa’s attempt to hover over her and George, Maman interjected with a soft giggle as she wrapped her arms further around Papa’s arm. “Come now mon amour, we were young once, and I rather have you all to myself this evening.” Maman then proceeded to politely drag Papa through the archway as she whispered things into his ear.
Now I normally didn’t mind seeing the love shine between my parents, but there was something about this display that made my nose curl in nausea. And going by the gagging noises Fain and Gérard were emitting, they felt exactly the same way.
With a quick cough, Alaric did his best to clear away the tension left by our parents’ display. “Right, well, I’m going to find my friends. Have fun!” Alaric then ventured into the ballroom, walking with forcibly relaxed purpose.
Following our brother’s lead, Carlisle and Dustin also departed to find their friends, while Blaire gently coaxed a stiff looking George through the archway.
“Do you think Armin, Sabina, and Astoria are already in the library?” asked Fain.
“I t-think so.” replied Gérard.
“I know so,” I interjected. “As are my friends. Daphne and I already discussed meeting in the library, and Astoria at least will be there with her sister.”
Gesturing for the twins to follow me, I led the way through the two opened doors leading to the library of Black Castle. The library itself matched well with what I’d seen of the castle so far, but that didn’t take away from the grandeur of seeing such a large collection of books and tomes neatly organized in shelves on two different levels in the tall room.
A large fireplace was lit bright red with a large Yule log burning away, keeping the spacious room surprisingly warm and cozy. Yule decorations hung from the many bookcases and alongside the tables were various plush chairs and sofas. I recognized many faces from both Hogwarts and last year’s ball socializing amongst themselves or playing some of the games I noticed were sitting out on the low tables.
As I searched through the many small clusters of young Magicals, I first found Astoria and Armin sitting by themselves. I was about to point them out to the twins when they must’ve spotted their friends themselves, because after a quick goodbye I was left standing alone near the library’s entrance. Seeing as my friends weren’t near, I slowly ventured further into the library, continuing to search through the stacks to check the different lounging sections.
Finally I spotted Daphne sitting with Theo and Blaise in the back corner of the library and made my way over to them. Seeing as it was just the three of them, I realized I hadn’t seen a hint of Tracey, Draco, or even Parkinson and Bulstrode anywhere yet.
Daphne noticed me first and stood up to greet me, pulling me into a quick hug. “Winter’s greetings, Esme.”
“Winter’s greetings,” I returned as I pulled back from the hug. “I love your dress.” This year Daphne was wearing a pure white gown that had short sleeves made of white fluffy feathers and was cinched at her waist by a simple red ribbon tied in a bow on her left hip.
“Thank you! Yours is gorgeous as well, I love how we both have feathers this year.”
“They must be in fashion,” I suggested as the two of us sat down with the boys, Daphne making room for me in the large plush chair she’d been using before. “Winter’s greetings, boys.”
Blaise and Theo returned my greeting as Daphne and I adjusted our skirts to make ourselves more comfortable.
“So how was everyone’s Yule?” I asked.
“Oh it was wonderful as always! I think I speak for all of us when I say thank you for the wonderful gifts,” Daphne beamed at the three of us.
“Oui, merci beaucoup, mon amis for your Yule gifts,” I replied, followed by Theo and Blaise sharing the same sentiment. “I did want to ask Blaise, how’s your mother doing?”
“She’s well, as is the baby. The mediwitch estimated the baby will be here in only a few more months.”
“You’re making a peculiar expression,” commented Theo. “What’s got your wand all in a knot?”
Blaise sighed deeply. “I’ve not enjoyed being home for the winter break at all. Mother can’t seem to focus on anything except the baby girl she’s desperately hoping for, and when she isn’t doing baby related things, she’s being disgustingly affectionate with Giovanni. He’s actually been worse than her, acting like he’s on a love potion with how stupidly doting he’s been with Mother. Except now he has it in his head that he’s my father instead of just Lord Consort Zabini and can order me about. It’s been really grating on my nerves, but I’m not allowed to snap at him because Mother ordered me to be respectful to her husband. So I’ve been left to endure in silence this entire break. The day we return for the second term cannot get here quickly enough.”
Blaise’s chest was practically heaving by the time he was finished, having lost his relaxed demeanor and was sitting on the edge of the sofa. I expect it felt good for him to unburden himself of at least a sliver of those pent-up feelings.
“Is he still trying to make you call him some form of father?” asked Theo.
Blaise leaned back against the back of the soft next to Theo. “He’s been asking for it more frequently, but since it’s not been a command I’ve been scraping by with the usual Sir. Mother at least hasn’t been pushing for it. I can’t wait for him to be gone.”
“What?” asked Daphne.
“What?” replied Blaise.
“You said you can’t wait for him to be gone. Where’s he going?”
“Oh,” Blaise paused. His eyes shifted towards the ceiling as he finally replied, “He’s not traveling anywhere, I simply misspoke.”
My eyes narrowed. That was a bit odd…did Blaise just lie?
“Well with my dreary break all aired out, who’s next?” joked Blaise. He rolled onto his side to poke Theo gently in the ribs. "How’s the dreadful and pretentious Lord Nott?”
Theo knocked Blaise’s hand away with a huff. “Still dreadful and pretentious, though extremely pleased with himself ever since Tabitha’s engagement was announced. Having secured the ceremony to occur early in the summer, Father hopes to ensure Tabitha’s handfasting is the event of this upcoming summer season.”
“And how is your sister doing with it all?” I asked.
“Tab continues to be accommodating towards what our father wants for the ceremony, hardly ever giving her own opinions much at all, and honestly, I think what few she’s given have been heavily influenced by Father’s opinions anyways. Yet, she’s been happy…happy she’s marrying and happy our father is so proud about it.”
“And,” Daphne hesitantly asked, “the situation with Lysander Yaxley?”
“I may have thought the unnecessary worst of him without proof.”
“Oh?” Blaise perked up. “This sounds juicy. Sing for us, little bird.”
Theo gave Blaise a smack which only caused the latter to chuckle. Still Theo elaborated. “Lord Yaxley and his heir joined us for Yule and I kept an observant eye on how Lysander interacted with Tabitha. Outwardly Lysander shares our fathers’ views, but his actions showed he wasn’t dismissive of her like the two elder Wizards were.”
“How so?” I asked out of pure curiosity, but also already sympathetic to what I expected was Tabitha’s standardized poor treatment when not in Hogwarts.
“Lysander always did his best to include Tab in the conversation instead of treating her like a wall decoration. When Father started to carelessly insult my sister for ‘making it hard to find her a match before she became a spinster’, Heir Yaxley interrupted and changed the topic of conversation impressively seamlessly. To me it looked like he was truly offended on my sister’s behalf.”
Theo leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he cradled his face between his thumb and first finger. “Now don’t get me wrong, I still don’t like him, but I think I can at least trust Heir Lysander Yaxley to treat Tab well.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to threaten him?” asked Blaise, a hint of disappointment colouring his tone.
“Not in so many words, the urgency from before is gone. I think at the ceremony I’ll only need to make it clear that any alliance between our two families ends with my father if I so much as suspect Tabitha is unhappy or being mistreated.”
I was very glad to see the dark cloud of worry hanging above Theo’s head had lightened. Any further discussion ended when I spotted a familiar face heading our way. “Tracey’s here,” I announced to the others.
Tracey was being escorted by who was no doubt her older brother. I couldn't help but smile when I noticed the two were colour-coordinated with how they dressed. The deep greenish turquoise of Tracey’s skirt which partly reminded me of a pine tree in design was matched by her brother’s robe vest and tie. As they got closer, I noticed even the paisley embroidery pattern on Tracey’s bodice was the same on her brother’s vest.
“Winter’s greetings, everyone!” beamed Tracey as the two of them came to a stop just short of us. “I’d like to introduce my brother, Axel." Tracey gestured to each of us in turn. “Axel, these are my new friends, Esme Archard, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, and Theo Nott.”
Letting go of his sister's hand so she could settle into the only remaining plush chair, Axel then gave a single polite short bow. “It’s a pleasure to make the acquaintance of such an intelligent group who use their heads as more than an echo chamber.”
Daphne squeaked in shock at Axel’s candor while Theo and I gladly snickered and Blaise sent Axel a sharp smile brimming with approval. Tracey looked ready to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. “Axel! You can’t say stuff like that in public!”
“Relax Trace, your friends didn’t mind, and even if the intended ears were here, I still would’ve said it. I’m a Seventh-Year, what are a few Second-Years going to do to me?”
“Bit of red showing through that blue,” commented Blaise.
“Anyone who isn’t a lion for their family isn’t worthy of the honour to have one,” replied Axel looking straight at Blaise. He then returned his gaze to his sister. “I’ll find you again when it comes time for the Fire Moon dance.” With a small nod of acknowledgement to us, he departed with purpose for the ballroom.
As my snickers subsided, I said, “Your brother is amazingly blunt in a biting sort of way. I absolutely adore it!”
“I certainly wasn’t expecting such a refined looking Wizard to say such a thing,” Daphne added as she lightly fanned herself with her hand.
“Did you just call her brother attractive?” asked Theo, looking equal parts disgusted and upset.
“She did because he is,” answered Blaise before Daphne could.
Tracey groaned as she covered her face with her hands. I reached over the gap between our two plush chairs to lightly pat her shoulder. “I completely understand the burden of having an older sibling others find attractive. At least your brother doesn’t seem to flaunt it like Carlisle and Dustin do. Those two take far too much enjoyment in using their natural and learned charm on others.”
“Can we please talk about something else?” mumbled Tracey through her hands.
“Yes, let’s talk about something else,” agreed Blaise, with a tone that instantly had me on guard. “Did Blaire go through with having George Weasley escort her this evening?”
“She did. George was formally introduced to our parents as her boyfriend before we arrived.”
“I’m surprised Lord Archard allowed it,” commented Theo. “I thought you said he didn’t have a high opinion of the Weasleys.”
“Maman talked Papa into allowing it,” I admitted. “Papa is being more gracious than I expected, but there was a tension in the air before, whether it was because of George being Blaire’s boyfriend or being a Weasley I couldn’t say. But either way there’s no turning back now.”
“I’m glad it worked out for them tonight, they’re a very cute couple in my opinion,” said Daphne as she bumped her shoulder against mine.
Tracey, no longer hiding behind her own hands, added, “I completely agree! They’re always adorable when I’ve seen them around the castle together, like two opposite sides of a mirror meeting in the middle.”
“That’s an odd way of putting it, yet completely true,” agreed Daphne. “George the rule-breaking prankster and Blaire the rule-abiding bookworm attached together with a seamlessness to be envied and glow of happiness between them that’s blinding. I hope to one day find a Wizard who makes me feel like that.” Both Witches sighed wistfully.
Theo waved his hand in front of his face as if to clear smoke. “Romance aside, tonight is rather a big deal. A lot of eyes will be on Blaire and George, judging to see if George will behave like the Magical he’s supposed to be or the Blood Traitor his parents have been raising him as.”
“George Weasley is no Blood Traitor,” I snapped. “Blaire wouldn’t be dating him otherwise.”
Blaise quickly interjected, “He didn’t mean anything by it, Esme. Theo was just explaining what everyone else in attendance tonight would be thinking.”
“You’re right. Je suis désolé, Theo. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”
“It’s okay. Like Axel said earlier, we all become lions when it comes to family.”
“Speaking of family, Astoria finally learned how to ice skate,” Daphne suddenly said, instantly cutting through what tension remained. “Even with the house-elves smoothing out the frozen pond for us, she still struggled to remain steady. Our elf Peeney had to keep a sharp eye on Astoria to always catch Tori with her magic when Tori would fall every few minutes or so. Still my sister had a lot of fun, I did too, and Tori eventually got good enough to skate at moderate speed without falling.”
The chatter from there remained light as Tracey recounted her own cozy Yule celebrations with her family. Our conversation was interrupted when Heir Black and his wife entered the library to announce the Fire Moon dance would begin soon. The girls and I quickly got up while being mindful of our long skirts and followed sedately by the boys as we made our way to the ballroom. On our way out, I made eye contact with Fain and Gérard, but both immediately broke it as they returned their focus to the game they were playing with their friends.
Exiting the two opened doors of the library with the others heading toward the ballroom, we crossed the wide hallways and walked under the curved stone archway.
“Vue magnifique!” I gasped as I took in the absolutely gorgeous sight of Black Castle’s ballroom.
It was a long vast room with lacquered wood walls of crème, gold, violet with a crème and grey marbled floor. Lounge chairs with tables full of food and drinks were set up along the far side of the ballroom, leaving more than half of the ballroom left for dancing and the crowd standing clustered together as they socialized. The entire ballroom was grandly decorated with winter themed pine wreaths and garlands with holly berries, and like the corridors was covered in unmelting snow and ice. Three grand silver and gold crystal chandeliers provided light to the large room, but the most breathtaking of it all was the ceiling. An inky blackness covered the entire ceiling, interspersed throughout it were various constellations and stars shining brightly as they gently moved across the ceiling like the watching the sky changes day to day, except it was only ever night.
Overall the richly decorated ballroom provided a light but breathtaking atmosphere with its opulence and grandeur. I recalled Tracey mentioning just before the winter break that it’d been almost a decade since the Black family last hosted the Winter Ball. This made me wonder if the grandness of all this was to make a statement related to it or if this simply was the standard for the Black family when it came to High Society balls.
My thoughts were interrupted by Theo excusing himself to go find his sister while Tracey was quickly whisked away by her brother, leaving Blaise, Daphne, and me hovering near the wall at the edge of the milling crowd.
Blaise then stepped forward and with a flourish offered his hand to Daphne, “May I have this dance, my fair lady?”
I giggled at his theatrics, but to my surprise Daphne hadn’t accepted yet or even replied with equal dramatics. “Daphne?”
“Thank you for asking, Blaise, but I’d rather not leave Esme to watch all on her own.”
“Don’t worry about me, ma amie,” I said as I gently pushed her forward. “I’ll be fine here, and I’m sure one of my brothers will be along to dance with me anyways.”
Now reassured, Daphne happily accepted Blaise’s hand which was still held up between them. “Then I am honoured to accept your request, my fair lord.”
I was hardly alone for long when Heir Flint stepped around the Wizards standing in front me. As he stepped closer to me, his tall stature felt even greater; I felt like he towered over me as I leaned more into the wall behind me.
He gave a slight bow at his shoulders as he held out his hand. “May I have the honour of having you as my partner for the Fire Moon dance?”
“Thank you for the offer, but I will have to decline,” I replied carefully, praying to Mother Magic one of my brothers was actually on their way over to dance with me.
His hand remained extended as his eyebrows drew together and a frown formed. “Excuse me? Surely you’re joking?”
Heir Flint took a step towards me as his hand dropped. The space between us lessened and the uneasy feeling in my stomach increased. Please, someone help…
Clap.
“Pardonnez-vous, Heir Flint,” said Alaric as he bodily moved Heir Flint away from me and stood between us. “You are standing far too close to my underaged sister.”
I released the breath I wasn’t aware I was holding, relieved Alaric arrived when he did.
“We were just talking, Archard,” replied Heir Flint as he brushed off Alaric’s hand from his shoulder. “In fact, we were about to prepare for the Fire Moon Dance.”
“It’s Heir Archard now, as you’re well aware,” replied Alaric, voice hard. “And I won’t be allowing you to dance with my sister. You press your presence where it isn’t wanted, so I suggest you remove it before I decide to make my father aware. You’re set to inherit your family’s lordship when you come of age…it would be a shame to enter the Wizengamot and find yourself bereft of allies, wouldn’t it?”
I was shocked to hear Alaric threatening Heir Flint, he hadn’t even done anything…so why was Alaric acting like he did? Despite my uneasiness, I wasn’t about to say anything or even stop Alaric. He had to have his reasons, and I trusted my brother to know what he was doing.
“Yes…it would,” replied Heir Flint slowly as he took a step back from Alaric. He then glanced around my brother to lock eyes with me. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Esme.” Turning his attention back to Alaric he added, “See you on the pitch, Heir Archard.”
Finally Heir Flint walked away. “Alaric?”
“Don’t worry about any of that just now, petite papillon,” Alaric said as he placed his hands gently on my shoulders. “Now, I’m sure things are about to start, so let’s get into position.”
“We’re dancing?”
“Oui, that was my reason for searching for you,” Alaric replied, though he mumbled something else under his breath that I wasn’t able to catch. After removing his hands, Alaric bowed with dramatic flourish. “Miss Archard, may I have this dance?”
Unable to stop myself from giggling at his antics, I decided to play along. Giving an equally dramatic curtsy and internally enjoying the swishing noise my feathered skirt made, I replied, “I would be delighted, Heir Archard.”
Accepting Alaric’s hand, we joined the gathered couples edging closer to the space left open for dancing as we waited for the night to truly begin. Standing alone in the growing open space in the center of the room under the largest chandelier in the ballroom was Lord Black. He appeared lonely to me, absent a partner at his side to open a ball. I couldn’t help but wonder if in moments like this he missed his wife.
With a sudden wrist twirl, Lord Black’s wand appeared in his hand. Lifting his wand to rest on his throat, Lord Black’s voice easily reached every corner of the large ballroom. “Winter’s greetings to one and all. It is my great pleasure to welcome my fellow Magicals to this year’s Winter Ball. Without further ado, I invite you all to join my heir and his wife for the Fire Moon dance.” He removed his wand from his neck, another wrist twirl disappearing his wand from sight. With a small bow and a flick of his wrist the metal moldings of instruments along the walls and ceiling came to life with a shimmering silver glow.
With the instruments now playing the opening sequence of the Fire Moon dance, Heir Marek and his wife glided onto the dance floor, truly beginning the night of dancing. Needing no further direction, Alaric gently led me amongst the slowly increasing number of couples joining the fray. Finding our moment, we joined the flow dancers.
Since I couldn’t reach Alaric’s shoulders, I kept my hands resting on his forearm. Alaric made sure to keep his grip light on my shoulders as we twirled around so I didn’t feel like he was trying to push me into the ground. I snickered to myself at the pinched look Alaric got when we passed near where Blaire was carefully guiding George through the steps. You wouldn’t even realize Blaire was leading unless you noticed that George’s eyes hardly even left his feet. Still, they made a rather cute sight, and the bright smile on Blaire’s face was truly wonderful to see.
I did catch sight of my friends dancing with their partners, though I was completely surprised to catch sight of Draco dancing with one of the Patil twins. Since I didn’t know either well enough to tell them apart, I couldn’t be sure which twin Draco was dancing with; though with his burning dislike for Gryffindors I was inclined to think it was the sister in Ravenclaw. Either way Parkinson had to be dyed green with envy. I tried to find Parkinson amongst the crowd, but I couldn’t spot her, which was rather hard since I didn’t even have an idea of the colour dress she was wearing (it was far easier to find a certain coloured dress than it was to spot a certain person). When Alaric commented on not seeing Ernie anywhere, was I reminded it wasn’t a requirement to dance, rather just a fun opportunity being of age now to participate.
It was an opportunity my friends and I took full advantage of. I completely lost count of the number of songs I danced to following the Fire Moon dance, but I barely left the dance floor as I danced with each of my friends. Daphne, Tracey and I even managed to dance together for a song, which was my favourite so far. I was surprised when Tracey’s brother Axel even cut in to dance with Daphne and I. While Tracey looked embarrassed at his request, she didn’t interject and actually waved us away from her. It wasn’t until Axel spoke to us did I realize that Tracey had an idea of why her brother wanted to dance with us. I found it both cute and touching how Axel wanted to thank us for extending our hands in friendship to his sister, how Tracey was far happier than she ever was with Parkinson and Bulstrode. It was Daphne who delicately summarized our thoughts on the subject - it was that pair’s loss and our gain.
Returning the others resting on a grouping of lounge chairs along the far side of the ballroom, neither Daphne nor I shared what Axel specifically said to us. Simply telling the boys that Axel wished to get to know the two new friends his sister had made. Theo accepted our answer but the knowing smirk on Blaise’s face made it clear he had an inkling there was more to it than that. We weren’t any of his little birdies, he could find out on his own or be satisfied with his assumptions - besides it was hardly that important and would only make Tracey blush redder than she already was.
The others soon all retook to the dance floor together, leaving me to some well-deserved rest. It was far too early in the evening for me to risk sore feet and I felt rather parched after so much dancing. I was happy to remain behind to enjoy some punch and snacks from the trays the house-elves were carrying around. However, my pleasant sphere of quiet was soon interrupted by the bane of my existence.
“Winter’s greetings, Archard.”
Plastering a fake smile on my face and adjusting my posture I faced the annoyance that was Pansy Parkinson. “Winter’s greetings, Parkinson.”
Without any invitation Parkinson sat herself down next to me on the same lounge, her gold embroidered grey skirts taking up the rest of the available space due to their puffiness. I resisted the urge to pull my feathered dress away so it wasn’t touching hers - I refused to give any sort of ground to her.
“I’ve got to say, I was rather…” She paused as she brushed some hair underneath the holly wreath she was wearing on the top of her head. “...surprised to see your sister escorted this evening by one of the Weasleys.”
I was rather glad she got straight to the point of her annoying intrusion, but still I kept my face blank as I had the feeling this was the least of what she wanted to say on the subject.
“It’s one thing for her to dander about before settling down with the right sort, but for her, a daughter of a lord, to stoop so low as to bring the son of known Blood Traitors to such a prestigious High Society event. I mean really, what was your mother thinking, let alone your father to allow such a thing. The Weasleys are barely above being Mudbloods.”
Parkinson looked entirely too pleased with herself with her pug-shaped nose pointed up and that smirk upon her face. My anger felt both like fire and ice as it raced through my entire being, yet I kept a firm hold of myself - I would not let myself lash out carelessly and make a scene. No one may be looking in our direction but there were still a good number of Magicals in hearing distance of our conversation if they chose to listen.
“I have to say, I’m rather surprised myself, that you, a daughter of a Wizard who only holds the honorary title of lord, would have the audacity to critique the decision of a lord of an Ancient and Royal House. It’s rather not any of your business, but I really shouldn’t be shocked at your complete lack of manners if you who claim to be a proper lady would sully herself to use such a vulgar term.”
Parkinson’s face turned purple as her lips squished together before she snapped. “I’m not the only one with this opinion! Plenty of others are thinking it and probably saying it.”
“Everyone is welcome to their own opinions, but I doubt many would be fool enough like you to forget their manners at such a prestigious event. We are not at Hogwarts, Parkinson, where the rules of etiquette are rather relaxed. You would do well to remember to use proper titles, it is Lord and Lady Archard to you at the very minimum. What would your own lady-mother say to hear her daughter forgo such basic manners?"
Parkinson managed to turn an even darker shade of purple and looked ready to attack me.
Cough.
Both our eyes whipped around to see who interrupted us. Any sort of expectations I had were completely wrong, as it was a boy who I could only vaguely recognize standing before us. I knew he was one of the many First-Years, but I couldn’t recall who he was.
Thankfully I didn’t have to try and remember as he promptly introduced himself. “Pardon my interruption.” He then gave a proper bow. “Mark Cinderford, son of Maximillian and Clara Cinderford and First-Year Gryffindor.” His eyes then met mine as he smiled boyishly at me. “Would you do me the honour of a dance, Miss Archard?”
Oh he was entirely too adorable for his own good, like a miniature Carlisle with Henrik’s sweet smile. I gladly placed my hand in his offered one. “I would be delighted, Mister Cinderford.”
Not giving a flabbergasted Parkinson another second of my time (no matter how amusing of a face she was now making), I happily left her behind and let the surprisingly tall First-Year lead me onto the dance floor. Even with the small heels I was wearing tonight I still wasn’t much taller than him, so placing our arms into position wasn’t awkward at all, though Mark seemed a bit stiff as we set off into the first spin around the dance floor.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you ask to dance with me?” I asked once we settled into the flow of the happy sounding tune the enchanted instruments were playing.
A soft smile spread across his face. “Pansy Parkinson looked like she was about to go full blown harpy on you, something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”
“So you’re my gallant knight in shining red and gold?” I teased with a soft giggle.
Pink spread across his tanned cheeks. “I-I mean I just thought I could help, especially since you’re Blaire’s sister. I owe her loads. While Prefect Weasley was more concerned that us First-Years were just following the rules, Blaire has always been really nice, she helped me and the others get settled in Gryffindor and find our classes.”
I continued to giggle. “Well that’s just the type of person Blaire is. She’d agree with me on this account - you don’t owe her a thing, she was happy to help. So while I appreciate your timely interruption, it really wasn’t necessary, I can handle Parkinson quite well by now.”
“I can imagine you must have lots of practice but what I can’t imagine is how you share a dormitory with her.”
“Surprisingly, we mostly leave each other alone in our dorm, though like I said, I’m well versed with Parkinson’s repeating attempts at biting wit.”
As we danced through the song, we continued to speak quietly to each other. Mark would stumble through his steps every now and then but showed a remarkable aptitude for finding the proper steps once again. He did remain a bit tense the entire song as well, but I think it was more due to nerves than lack of skill. I enjoyed getting to know Mark for a little bit and he was able to share a few things about his older brother Brian as well. It was nice to hear more about Alaric’s other close friend, though I was surprised to learn they actually had a sister, Stacy, who was currently a Third-Year Gryffindor.
Before we knew it the song had ended and instead of a new song picking off shortly after the previous song tampered off, the instruments remained frozen as only the noise of various conversations slowly tampered off as Lord Black walked out with a richly dressed witch at his side. I instantly knew it was time for the Blood of the Ancients!
After giving an aggregate curtsy to match the bow that Mark gave me, we separated with well wishes to enjoy the ball. I quickly began searching for any sign of my friends.
Spotting Daphne and Tracey’s dresses not too far from me I started to make my way over to my four friends standing together as Lord Black signalled for what little chatter remained to end. I’d just reached the girls, being slightly surprised to see Daphne’s sister standing with my friends.
“It has reached the point in the night for me to have the honour of presenting Madam Jerolynn Bletchley, here to sing the Blood of the Ancients,” intoned Lord Black in a strong and sure voice. “I invite you now to join my Heir and his wife on the floor.”
Everyone clapped as now identified witch took a deep sweeping curtsy.
Blaise didn’t waste a second as he kneeled before Theo with his arm outstretched. “Theo, dweller of the library and master of Wizard’s Chess, may you do me the honour of being my partner?”
Theo rolled his eyes at Blaise's antics as he helped him back onto his feet. “Only because we’re friends, mate.”
“Would you like to be partners Tracey?” I turned and asked as the boys ambled into an open spot in the slowly forming inner circle for the dance. “That is if you’re not already partnered with your brother.”
Tracey blinked rapidly, her face showing complete shock but a bright smile overcame her face. “Yes! I’d love to dance with you!”
Sending a look towards Daphne, she waved the two of us forward. “I’ll stay here with Astoria to watch. Have fun!”
Tracey and I quickly claimed a spot next to each other in the outer circle of dancers. We hardly had a few breaths to wait before the enchanted instruments began to play. With the opening bars complete, Madame Bletchley began to sing, her rich voice ringing out through the large ballroom.
It’s the Blood of the Ancients
That runs through our veins
And the forms pass
But the Circle of Life remains
It’s the Blood of the Ancients
That runs through our veins
And the forms pass
But the Circle of Life remains
The New Moon of Morgana
The Dark Moon of Circe
The Full Moon of Hecate
All lights our changing ways
At Beltane and at Litha
Ostara and Samhain
The Sabbats and Solstices
And Equinoxes past
It’s the Blood of the Ancients
That runs through our veins
And the forms pass
But the Circle of Life remains
It’s the Blood of the Ancients
That runs through our veins
And the forms pass
But the Circle of Life remains
On and on the music slowly increased as the verses continued to repeat until a break was reached between the chants and the music began to slow down. Finally the last verse was repeated twice before Madame Bletchley’s final note trailed off as the music faded out.
The silence rang throughout the grand ballroom before thunderous applause filled in. Everyone clapped as they faced the center of the dance floor, where Madame Bletchley, beneath the largest chandelier in the room was once again curtsying deeply. I clapped along with everyone else, the remaining humming from everyone’s magic flowing along with the ritualized dance warming both my chest and magic.
I was very happy I danced with Tracey, as it felt like we only became closer as friends. We may not have been friends long, but like with Daphne and the boys, I felt a connection click into place. Honestly I sometimes forgot that Tracey, despite always being nearby, wasn’t actually all that close with me as it felt like she’d always been my friend, been our friend.
Despite a slightly chilling start of the ball with Heir Flint pressing his case and Parkinson sharing her annoying and unwanted opinion on Blaire and George, overall, I was having so much fun at this year’s Winter Ball. And the night was only half over!
My musing was interrupted by a hand entering my line of sight. “May I have the next dance?”
Mon amour = my love (male)
Oui = yes
Merci beaucoup = thank you very much
Mon amis = my friends
Je suis désolé = I’m sorry
Vue magnifique = a magnificent view
Mon amie = my friend (female)
Pardonnez-vous = pardon you
Petite papillon = little butterfly (female)
Extra POVs
Alaric POV
There were just some things you never wanted to see, and tonight I was being taunted with two of them - seeing how disgustingly in love my parents were and someone pawing at my twin sister. I was quite happy to make my escape to find Ollie and Brian. I may not be thrilled that Blaire was dating, but I trusted my twin, and reluctantly, I trusted George Weasley to respect her. Besides, I was at this ball to have fun with my friends, not hold George’s hand as he navigated High Society. If he wanted to seriously date my sister then he had to learn how to stand at her side on his own.
Making my way through the crowd of witches and wizards, I searched for Ollie and Brian. I noticed there was a lounge area set up on the far side of the large ballroom and made my way over. Breaking through a small crowd of older witches in big dresses and large holly wreath crowns, I managed to spot Ollie chatting with a group of young Magicals.
“Winter’s greetings, mate!” called out Brian when he spotted me approaching them. The others paused in their conversation to greet me as well.
“Winter’s greetings,” I replied as I settled onto the lounge next to Ollie, our shoulders smashed together due to it not being quite big enough for both our frames. I recognized most as the group from last year’s ball with some added additions of familiar faces from around Hogwarts, though I didn’t see any sign of Richard or Axel.
“Alaric,” Henry caught my attention, “may I introduce Miss Anya MacDougal, my accompany for this evening. Anya, this is Heir Alaric Archard.”
With such a formal introduction, I fully expected Miss MacDougal to offer her hand for me to kiss. But to my amused surprise, she rolled her eyes and smacked Henry’s arm. “Honestly Henry, lighten up. Your parents aren’t anywhere near here.” She then smiled at me. “It is nice to meet you, but don’t worry about all those stuffy manners with me, I’m just the date Henry’s parents dropped on him. So please, call me Anya.”
I acknowledged and returned her words with complete sincerity; I quite liked a witch with her own voice and mind. Turning my attention back to Henry, I asked, “Why would your parents force you to escort someone here?”
“Now that I've graduated from Hogwarts, my parents are pressuring me to find a ‘proper’ wife, but since I refuse to make my own efforts, they’ve resorted to springing surprise tea guests and dates on me. All of which are of course, proper young witches from ‘good’ families.”
I winced in sympathy, while Ollie vocalized his. “That’s a real pile of dragon dung.”
“It’s no good crying over spilt potion,” replied Henry as he shrugged his shoulders, “besides it’s more tediously annoying than anything else.” He then smiled at Anya. “Not with Anya here though, she’s been a breath of fresh air.”
Anya rolled her eyes but retained a friendly smile on her face. “Only because I don’t simper or want to marry you any more than you want to marry me.”
“Still, I’m glad my parents are leaving me alone and I can enjoy spending time with my dear Pen,” commented Kevin while he nuzzled the cheek of his girlfriend, Penny Haywood, who happily returned his affection. Kevin and Penny only started dating shortly a month or so before End of Term last year, yet when together, the two acted as if they’d been dating for years.
“That’s because your parents are holding their breath in hopes you don’t screw things up with the best possible witch you could trick into dating you,” teased Darrell. “Me, I’m happy to be single with no parents breathing down my neck to marry. That’s the beauty of being the youngest. I can focus on building a life for myself now that Hogwarts is behind me.”
“Wait,” interjected Anya. She pointed to Kevin, “Isn’t your older sister Holly married to his older brother Arnold,” she finished by pointing at Darrell.
Darrell chuckled with a wide smile. “You’re correct! We’re technically brothers-by-marriage now, meaning our friendship is eternal.”
“I don’t know,” I said as I chuckled to myself. “As someone with five brothers, I’d say the bonds of brotherhood doesn't always guarantee they’ll be your best mate.”
We all shared a laugh as we each thought about our various brothers and relationships with them. “He’s got you there, Darrell,” laughed Brian.
As the laughter died down, I turned to address the third witch sitting with the group. “Where’s Axel, Tyra? Is he not here yet?” I then asked the entire group, “Or Richard for that matter? With his sister being busy with hosting as acting Lady Black, he can’t be catching up with her.”
“I can’t speak for Richard,” replied Tyra, “but Axel will be around later after he’s seen his sister settled in the library.”
“Does his sister still not like you?” asked Brian.
“Actually that was all a misunderstanding,” said Tyra, a fond smile overtaking her face. “What I thought was disapproval was actually just Tracey being shy. She’s really come out of her shell these last few months and we were able to clear the air.”
“That’s surprising to hear,” commented Kevin. All three witches sent Kevin a sharp look in near perfect unison. I hadn’t thought the three were friends, but I guess some insults didn’t require friendship to respond to. Kevin’s eyes widened and he began to immediately backtrack, “No, that’s not what I meant! I meant it was surprising because most of the younger Years have been retreating into themselves or their small groups of friends with the whole Heir of Slytherin attacks.”
And just like a flick of a wand, the once happy mood plummeted into a heavy somberness. No one liked thinking about the two petrified Muggleborn boys laid out in the hospital wing until further notice.
The heavy mood was shattered as a cheerful voice called out to us, “Winter’s greetings, everyone!” Richard Prince had finally arrived with his girlfriend of almost one year, Sakura Akagi, on his arm.
We all returned his greeting, silently in agreement to put the subject of the chamber behind us.
Instead of taking the offered space on the remaining lounge chair, Richard remained standing and cleared his throat. “I wanted to introduce you all to my-”
“-Mate,” interrupted Darrell, “We’ve all met before, you don’t need to introduce Sakura. We’ve already suffered through Henry’s stiff adherence to manners.”
Richard’s bright smile began to take on a nervous edge which caused a trickle of concern to creep into my mind.
“Don’t get your wand in a knot, Darrell,” said Oliver. “If he wants to formally reintroduce her, he can. You’re the only one of us who ‘suffers’ through manners.”
Darrell raised his hands in surrender, the smile on his face showing he didn’t take offense and probably didn’t mean any offense with his words.
Richard once again cleared his throat. “I’d like to formally introduce you all to my fiancée, Sakura Akagi.”
I froze in my seat as the word ‘fiancée’ kept floating through my mind.
It was Penny who was the first to speak. “Congratulations you two!” Which seemed to snap the rest of us out of it and we each gave the happy couple our congratulations. While the news was surprising since Richard and Sakura had not even been dating a year, both were beaming with happiness, so clearly it was something they both desired.
Henry was finally the one to ask, “What brought such a quick engagement on?” after the couple settled down on a lounge chair together.
“I wouldn’t say we had a particular reason besides it feeling right,” replied Richard.
“By that he means he didn’t at all plan it. He just sort of blurted it out when the two of us were celebrating my graduation from Hogwarts and acceptance of a job with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,” added Sakura, with a fond look sent at Richard’s sheepish expression.
“Good thing she said yes then,” teased Kevin. “I probably would’ve been shaking in my boots if I blurted something like that out.”
“I honestly wasn’t,” replied Richard. “I mean still praised Mother Magic she said yes, but I was more worried about my family approving. As the sole Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Prince, I was worried my parents wouldn’t let me marry a witch not a member of High Society.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” said Penny. “How’d they take it?”
Sakura squeezed Richard’s hand resting on his knee. “They were very happy and gave us their blessing to marry, though they did specify that we had to wait until after Richard has finished school.”
“Is that why you’re only telling us all about it now despite being engaged for nearly half a year?” asked Darrell, a slight tone of hurt in his voice.
“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” said Richard. “It was my decision not to say anything to anyone, I didn’t want the news to make the rounds of gossiping old Magicals who have far too much time on their hands. Announcing it now gives us the traditional year before our Handfasting ceremony next winter.”
“Oi, it’s okay, mate,” reassured Brian, as we all nodded our agreement, even Darrell, though the touch of hurt was still in his eyes.
It wasn’t my place to bring it up though, as it was something personal between the two and their friendship. While we were all friendly with each other at these various events, I wasn’t really close with some of the others. I considered Ollie and Brian to be my closest friends and I would consider Kevin a friend as well, but with the others the separation between Years and Houses at Hogwarts didn’t really leave us time to see each other.
I came out of my thoughts when I felt Ollie nudge himself against me. I glanced over at him as he said quietly, “You’re making your serious thought face. What’s going on inside that head of yours, ‘Laric?”
“Just contemplating the distance Hogwarts creates between people in different Years and Houses.”
He nodded his head as he gazed up at the enchanted ceiling of the ballroom. “I know what you mean. I never really realized it myself until Rodger got sorted into Slytherin. Outside of Quidditch and the common room, I never interact with the Lower-Years. Rod’s as happy as can be with his own friends and doing his own thing, but I miss my little brother. Part of me was hoping he’d be sorted into Gryffindor, and I was disappointed when he wasn’t. Not because it was Slytherin, but because I can’t really look out for him in a different House. Though I don’t really need to describe it to you when your siblings are spread out between three different Houses.”
“I do know what you mean. And I would say making time to meet as a family certainly helps the feeling go away, but honestly, it’s a feeling that will persist. I’ve even been feeling a growing distance with Blaire. We’re in the same Year and House, yet I feel like I hardly see her anymore.”
“Prefect duties do seem rather time consuming,” commented Ollie.
“Yes, but then every free moment she has, she spends it with George Weasley.” I surprised myself with how bitter my tone of voice was.
“If I might interject,” said Brian, as he leaned closer and away from the others who were busy with their own conversations. “Yes, Hogwarts does separate the Houses and there is a distance between the different Years, but it’s also natural for younger siblings to grow out from under their older siblings’ shadow. That doesn’t mean they’re gone forever. Siblings are connected by a bond that can never be broken and it’s our job as the oldest sibling to let our younger ones make their own mistakes and be there when we’re needed. The Archards do make time for each other with their family get-togethers in the courtyard, but I’m sure if either one of your younger siblings came to you with something, you’d drop everything to help them, just like I would for Stacy and Mark.”
“When did you get so wise, mate?” asked Ollie, sharing my surprise over Brian’s deep words of wisdom.
Brian’s confidence turned bashful. “I got most of it from my mum just before Stacy was a First-Year.” We all shared a chuckle for a bit before Brian turned serious again. “Alaric, I know you’re naturally protective of your siblings, and your sisters extra so, a feeling I myself am well acquainted with. But I wanted to give you a heads up about something and ask that you let it happen.”
“Let what happen?” I asked, a growing unease entering my stomach.
Brian quickly waved his hands as he reassured, “It’s nothing bad, I promise!”
“Just spit it out, you’re certainly making it sound bad as is,” commented Ollie.
“My brother Mark has a bit of a crush on your sister Esme. I told him to ask her to dance this evening.”
Ollie snickered. “Letting your brother make his own mistakes indeed.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” I demanded, offended on my sister’s behalf. “What are you saying about my little sister, because I’ll have you know, Esme is cute, smart, kind, and quite the accomplished little lady.”
Ollie continued to snicker. “I meant you, you big dolt. You’re the protective older brother. Brian here was nervous you’d mentally scar his little brother for his crush.”
“I wouldn’t do something like over a little crush!” I defended myself.
“But you would if they acted on said crush?” asked Ollie, looking entirely too amused with this conversation.
“No…yes,” I amended, “but only if they weren’t respectful.”
“So you’ll not interfere if Esme accepts Mark’s offer for a dance, nor will you intimidate my eleven-year-old brother afterwards?” asked Brian.
“...I won’t,” I promised them, doing my best not to make the face Blaire insisted was pouting. I do not pout, I brood! Though I don’t think I succeeded since both Brian and Ollie were snickering at me. For Circe’s sake, my friends were the worst…I wouldn’t have them any other way.
Blaire POV
While I was eternally grateful to Mother for convincing Father to allow George to escort me to the Winter Ball, I was also completely tied up in various nerves. Tonight marked the first official time George would be meeting my parents as my boyfriend, and I was nervous on how it would go with Father. However childish it was, I greatly yearned for Father’s approval. His opinion mattered to me, and I needed Father to like George even a fracture as much as I did.
I had never felt as strongly for someone as I did George - all other short relationships or feelings paled in comparison and were simply infatuations without any deeper feelings. George wasn’t what I had previously imagined for myself, but now that I had him in my life I couldn’t live without him in it. I wanted our relationship to last, to be like how my parents were, but if Mother Magic forbid it didn’t, I hoped it happened in a way that I could keep George in my life somehow. George and Fred were unique, and my life was brightened with their presence.
Which is why having my parents' approval meant so much to me. I knew Mother was on my side, since she was an uncomfortable amount of giddy ever since I told her, though I suspected she had her suspicions beforehand. With Mother on my side I knew she would ensure Father wouldn’t be, well, himself, and would give George an honest chance. But Father’s approval was not the only thing stoking the fires of my nerves this evening. I was also worried about George.
His parents really did him and siblings no favours when leaving them ignorant of Wizarding customs, traditions, and honestly basic manners. Percy did a lot of his own research for things, and it showed with the stark comparison with his youngest brother. Though that really was a bad comparison since Ron always seemed to come out looking far more ignorant when compared to any of his brothers and even his younger sister. I did worry a bit about Ginny; the bright and tenacious girl I’d met over the summer break had been absent since she came to Hogwarts. I worried this business with the Chamber of Secrets was causing her to retreat into herself, as I never really saw Ginny in the company of anyone else. Sure she walked with groups through the corridors but at mealtimes or in the common room she always seemed to be by herself, writing away in her diary. Still, there was nothing I could do when Ginny continued to insist she was fine the few times I talked to her. So I’d left her alone since and let all the other things I had to do take over.
For tonight’s ball I worried over George, whether he would actually have any fun tonight or if he would spend the whole night miserable. I was dragging him alone into an environment he was entirely unfamiliar with, with rules he hadn’t grown up being taught. Though George was an avid rule-breaker, there were some rules that weren’t meant to be broken. I worried that George was forcing himself to come tonight to please me, that he only accepted my invitation to make me happy and because he knew how much I actually liked these things. Yet, despite my worries about George, I was also excited to finally attend a ball with him. I’d never been able to attend a ball with an escort who wasn’t Alaric. I may have attended Beauxbatons’ festivals and dances with a few past boyfriends I’d managed to sneak past Alaric, but this felt entirely different, a good and exciting kind of different.
The moment when I saw George standing in the foyer with my parents, my worries seemed to melt away. I was both embarrassed and pleased when I literally struck George speechless with my appearance. The memory of his mouth falling open a little would be one I would treasure forever. And George certainly looked quite dapper in his dress robes this evening. He was always attractive, even in disheveled school robes, but tonight he was a special kind of handsome all dressed up in his black and green robes. He certainly wore the colour well and it made me wish my gown was the same dark emerald green instead of its navy blue. At least the gold embroidery on my dress matched the golden pin and cufflinks George was wearing.
Once I finally reached George when he arrived at our home, I gave him the traditional greeting for this evening, but he remained frozen in place. I reached out and gently took his hand, hoping it would break him out of it. Thankfully it did, but then it was George’s turn to strike me speechless when instead of shaking my hand, he turned my hand and actually kissed my knuckles. With how heated my face felt, I had to be blushing.
Our moment ended when Esme kindly reminded us that we were not in fact the only ones in the room. Sweet Esme even made sure to act as a natural barrier between our glaring brothers and George and me. I saw the moment George remembered where he was because his own nerves returned, and he was stiff as board when he faced Father. Not that I blamed him, my own nerves were back in full force with Father being only grudgingly polite under Mother’s gentle nudges and bright presence. Though I couldn’t tell if it was because Father was just being himself or if he disapproved of George - though logically it couldn’t be the latter since George hadn’t done anything to disapprove of.
Thankfully, once we arrived at Black Castle, Mother ensured George and I could enjoy the ball on our own without Father hovering. I’d already previously gotten Alaric to promise he wouldn’t hover himself. I loved my brother and appreciated that he so earnestly wanted to look after our siblings and I, but sometimes his care felt smothering and I had to remind him that he wasn’t even thirty minutes older than me.
As George and I circled the ballroom, greeting those we knew from Hogwarts and being stopped by a few we did not, George continued to hold himself well amongst all the etiquette. I think it helped that he never had to take the lead since while he was my escort, I was of higher social standing, so it was my responsibility to introduce him to everyone. Even with all the polite conversation, I was happy to see that George was still being himself. Funny quips and jokes with those our own age and hilariously comments made about those we didn’t know once we were out of earshot.
Dancing was even more fun than usual. While George wasn’t confident at first with the steps, he caught on quickly, and we started to flow across the dance floor, though I did continue to lead just in case. As I gazed into his eyes as we stepped and swayed, I felt the spark between us grow stronger.
“I’m really glad you agreed to come tonight, even if you didn’t really want to,” I told him while we took a break from dancing and were relaxing on our own lounge chair against the side wall.
“I’m glad I came too. I like being here with you, even if it means dealing with those hoity toity witches and wizards,” he replied. “Though it does sort of feel weird to be here without Fred.”
I took his hand in mine. “I am sorry about that, but perhaps I can work out for Fred to attend next year?”
George snickered. “I don’t think High Society could handle the two of us together.”
“Well it’s not like the two of you will pull a prank at one of these things,” I replied with a giggle. Though his silence after my statement worried me. “You wouldn’t actually do something would you? George, are you planning on pulling a prank tonight?!”
“No! No, I didn’t bring anything with me, I promise,” he instantly reassured, but then he looked out into the crowd with a scowl. “Though Fred and I will certainly be planning something once we’re back at Hogwarts if Diggery doesn’t keep his eyes to himself. Apparently, he has yet to learn from the two other pranks Fred pulled on my behalf.”
“What?” I asked, confused on what he meant.
“What?” he responded as he blinked innocently back at me.
“When did you two prank Cedric?”
“A bit here and there,” he replied evasively, “doesn’t really matter.”
Our conversation was interrupted as the very subject of it approached us. “Winter’s greetings to you both,” greeted Cedric as he gave a polite head bow in front of us.
“Winter’s greeting,” I politely replied back. “Are you enjoying the ball thus far?”
“I am, though I was wondering, Blaire, if you would do me the honour of being my partner for the next dance?”
I internalized my wince as I felt George’s grip tighten around my hand. Keeping my polite smile on my face, I replied, “Thank you for your kind offer, but I will have to decline.”
“Yeah, my girlfriend will only be dancing with me this evening,” George added, his voice lower than usual. “Though from what I’ve seen, there’s plenty of other Witches to ask for a dance, best of luck with them.”
While George's words were borderline rude, Cedric didn’t seem to take any offense, though I could see that he was a bit disappointed. “Of course, have a pleasant evening then.” He gave one more polite head bow before retreating back into the crowd.
Any thoughts of Cedric fled as I focused on a clearly jealous George. I never thought I would find jealousy attractive, but on George it was looking rather cute. I leaned over and snuck a peck on his cheek. He blushed as red as his hair causing me to giggle - so adorable. “You know, it’s you that I care about, not him or anyone else.”
“I know…” he mumbled, still embarrassed from either me calling him out or the kiss.
I continued to laugh a little at my adorable boyfriend when I stiffened as I felt an uncomfortable stare boring down on me. Carefully looking around us, I located the source which soured what was left of my good mood - Heir Preston Parkinson.
“What is it?” asked George with a worried tone, his embarrassment completely gone.
“It’s nothing,” I tried to insist.
“No, it’s clearly something,” he said, refusing to be deterred. “Please tell me, Blaire.”
“Alright, just know that my father and Alaric are already aware, and Father has already promised to handle it.” I took a breath and then continued explaining. “At the Handfasting of Ecbert Selwyn and Lyra Black, Heir Parkinson stared at me through the ceremony. Afterwards he used my good manners to coerce a dance out of me, during which he suggested that we enter into a marriage contract, doing so in a way like he was doing me the favour of offering his hand. Keep in mind outside of this being creepy and rude, it also just isn’t done, at least by someone with proper manners. By this point, my father interrupted and sent Heir Parkinson on his way.”
George was quiet for what felt like a long while before he absolutely seethed, “That manky, gormless, gannet, bell end!”
I choked on my own spit. While I didn’t know what most of the words he used meant, I easily inferred that they were unflattering swear words. I quickly seized George's hands in mine when I felt him shift to stand as I feared he was about to storm across the ballroom to confront Heir Parkinson. “While it’s not alright, George, it’s being handled by my father. And should Heir Parkinson be stupid enough to approach me, Father gave me full permission to slap him if he lays hands on me again. So please don’t do anything rash,” I begged him.
George did me the courtesy of listening, but it took several long and deep breaths for his anger to recede enough that he no longer personified a dragon about to breathe fire. Thankfully, a distraction presented itself when the music tampered off and Lord Black walked out to the center of the dance floor with a richly dressed witch in a puffed-out ballgown at his side. It was time for the Blood of the Ancients. Turning George’s face to mine gently with my hand, I asked him, “Would you do me the honour of being my partner for the Blood of the Ancients dance?”
George blinked a few times but then sighed before smiling. “Alright, but this is the last traditional dance I will do with you tonight.”
“That’s alright, the only other one is done between married couples, those who are engaged, or couples who are quietly announcing their engagement.” I giggled in amusement as a stunned look overcame his face.
I dragged him to his feet so we might join the circle of dancers as I continued to giggle at my adorable boyfriend. One day George Weasley, one day we’d be together for the Winter Sun dance.
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