Chapter Text
Aware of the eyes of every student and professor on her, and the rapidly shortening fuse on the Howler’s patience, Beatrice sets her shoulders and opens the red envelope. She does her best to ignore how Ava and Camila watch on in horror from across the table.
With the wax seal broken, the envelope springs to life. The folds of the envelope unfurl to create a mouth-like shape, as the white parchment of that letter inside scrunches into teeth. A small ribbon from inside the papers slides into the center to act as a tongue. It gives itself a small shake, as if righting itself, and then juts its chin upward, looking down at Beatrice with an air of condescension as it prepares its speech.
Definitely written by Mother.
Instinctually, some nearby students cover their ears in preparation for the oncoming cacophony.
But it doesn’t come.
The Howler moves about, rustling its papers, as though it’s speaking, but there seems to be no clear sound.
Not to anyone that is but Beatrice.
The whisper charm placed upon it leaves only those in extremely close proximity as listeners. Still even without the spell, the volume Beatrice hears isn’t loud. Filled with venom, her mothers voice bites out a low malevolent hushed tone. The Howler floats back and forth in front of the girl, mimicking the pacing of her mother when she had written it.
She tracks it carefully.
The Hall around her bleeds out from her vision. It’s as though she’s there in her father’s study again as a child, being cut with words with as much poison one can fit at such a careful volume. Wary of her father’s looming entrance as he entertains guests in the next room over.
No doubt he’d been informed.
No doubt she’d be on the receiving end of his wand when she went back home. Everyone always warns of the three Unforgivable Curses, but Beatrice knows first hand that there are plenty of other combinations of charms and hexes besides the Cruciatus Curse that can inflict excruciating pain. And her father was unfortunately rather creative in that regard.
Just the idea that he’d ever point his wand at her again.
It had only happened twice before. The first time being during holiday in her 1st year. The second time being in her 3rd.
She remembered both clearly. The look on his face. Cold. Absent of any love.
The look on her mothers as she watched.
She hated that damn study. She hated the bookshelves upon bookshelves lining the walls, all full of curses. She hated the floating quills who flicked ink upon her any time she stepped out of line as a child. She hated the black stone floor, the green banners, the snake and skull iconography– every single thing about it.
But hatred, as it usually does, stemmed from fear.
The thought of returning to it had always made her stomach twist. Every time she had been called into that room afterwards, Beatrice fought to hold back her anxiety.
She knew if she let any discomfort betray her face it’d only be worse.
She wants to run. To get out of these black stone walls that are choking her. She’s supposed to be hundreds of miles away from them, at a place she has always felt safe –even when fighting off hordes of giant spiders in the forbidden forest or extinguishing a seemingly spontaneous fire hurricane– and yet reality has slipped from her grasp. Her spine is rigidly straight despite her gut twisting in knots, turning in on itself like a child hiding under a blanket. She has to get out.
But how do you escape a memory?
The red envelope finishes delivering its message, yet the absence of words does little to wake Beatrice from the state she’s in. The letter, emphasizing its last few words, tears itself up, flicking wet ink from the pages onto the side of Beatrice’s face.
Just like the quills from the office.
Everything is still.
The whispers by students throughout the hall don’t quite reach her ears.
It's odd how deafeningly loud the silence of one’s world turning in on itself is.
One thing she knows for sure is she has to leave. She has to be anywhere but here.
Carefully. Beatrice rises.
Ava and Camila are speaking to her, but the sounds of the party her father is hosting are too loud inside her head.
The rest of her friends have almost finished making their way to her from their respective house tables, but tunnel vision omits them from her vision. She doesn’t see how Ava practically jumps across the table for her.
She’s already politely excused herself, jaw set parallel to the floor below her as she makes a brisk exit out the doors of the Great Hall.
———————————— ~ ————————————
Ava attempts to chase after Beatrice, but Lilith has already reached the table and holds her back.
“I need to–”
“What did it say?”
“Let me go–”
Ava fights her grasp, as Shannon and Mary also enter the scene, shortly followed by Yasmine
“Hold on Ava, I know you want to go after her, but first give her a minute to compose herself.”
“What did it say, Silva??”
“I dunno it– it was– she couldn’t hear me–”
“It looked like it had a proximity charm,” Yasmine to the rescue again.
“She’s right, even sitting this close it was hard to hear anything but bits and pieces.” Camila pipes up.
As Lilith turns to aim her interrogation at Camila, Ava does a twist, breaking free of Lilith’s hands and running out of the room.
Camila and Lilith make an attempt to follow, but Shannon stands in their way.
“You can’t be serious,” the more serious one says.
Mary shakes her head “Let them work it out. Ava’s gotta get her head out of her ass too.”
Lilith whips back to Camila “What did you hear?”
“It’s hard to say for sure, but something about ‘constant disappointment’ and not getting into Slytherin and then… um…” Camila trails off
“I don’t understand, but that’s not exactly recent news? Besides, didn't they settle that when they came to the school in our first year?”
“And then?” Lilith ignores Yasmine’s question, not bothering to ask how she knows anything about that, and urges Camila to press on.
Camila carefully weighs how she should say this next part, “I wasn't able to hear a whole sentence or anything but there was something about lifestyle choices…her unnatural behavior… how they thought they had straightened her out…”
The double meaning isn’t lost on anyone.
Camila does her best impression of the Howler’s voice as she continues “and how she’s now ‘galivanting about like a savage on a broom’ whatever that means.”
“Shit.”
“A Howler just because of Quidditch?”
Lilith supplies the answer, “It’s not that simple. Her parents… they have a specific picture of who Beatrice should be.” she turns back to the other Slytherin “Mary we need to find her,”
Mary answer’s “Ava’s got her.” as Shannon nods along in agreement.
“You’re both acting like there’s not an incredibly likely chance that she’s gonna make it worse.”
Shannon grimaces “Oh, no there certainly is, but they need a moment together first. Besides, the rest of you have a game to get ready for.”
An uncomfortable look is shared.
“You want us to go get ready? Right now??”
“When Bea and Ava have it sorted, they won't want to find the rest of you in complete chaos. No matter the outcome, that’ll just make them feel worse. We go about things as normal for now.”
There’s a begrudging look from Lilith as she turns to storm off.
As the others begin to disperse, Yasmine pulls Shannon aside.
Shannon gives her a confused look “I was referring to you too, you know. You are the announcer after all,”
“Yes but I just had an idea I wanted to run by you.”
“Oh?”
“Make a pit stop with me in the Kitchens real quick?”
———————————— ~ ————————————
Ava almost crashes into two younger unsuspecting students as she runs out of the Great Hall. Throwing an apology over her shoulder she charges on, head on a swivel for Beatrice. Unfortunately the other girl is nowhere to be seen.
“Okay. okay okay. Stop and think, if I was Bea, where would I go?” She ignores the curious glance from the nearby ghost as she speaks aloud.
A painting of a bristly older man on a nearby wall pipes up “Check the library, she’s always there under my other painting.” his white mustache bounces as he talks.
Another painting, this time of a young Ravenclaw healer cuts in “Sure, go waste your time there,”
A third painting cuts in “As if any of you lot pay attention to anything.”
Judging from the way they all start to talk over each other, the tone doesn't sit well with the audience that is the entire wall of paintings. A fourth painting cuts in “Now, there’s no need to be so rude–”
“Did you see where she went?” Ava yells to the painting of the healer over all the noise.
“Course I did, you puffs are always so emotional.”
Ava bites back a retort, “Where did she go?” she musters through gritted teeth.
“Once she cleared the doors to the Great Hall, she ran down that corridor there. Seemed like she– ”
Ava didn’t wait around for him to finish, instead she chased down the hallway until it led to a side door to the grounds of the castle.
Ava knew most of Beatrice’s favored places within the castle walls. The two of them had shared their preferred getaways more than once. Most of Ava’s from the earlier years had actually been shown to her by Beatrice, Mary or Camila, but as she got older and more into trouble she had found a few spots of her own, some secret some not.
The first place Beatrice had ever shown her was outcropping in the basement of the clocktower. She had once made a passing comment about how the muffled shifting of the gears was calming. Ava had found her own refuge there once after accidentally releasing a fire hurricane upon the interior of the school in their 4th year.
It's definitely a spot out of prying eyes, and sure enough it is where Ava finds her; sitting in the outclove leaning against a large pillar, eyes shut with her brows furrowed.
She’s taking deep slow breaths.
“Hey.”
Beatrice doesn’t flinch at the sound in surprise, actually she doesn’t really respond with anything. The only recognition that she heard Ava is a slight shift in her chin towards the other girl's voice.
Ava stands there awkwardly for a moment, tugging on her own fingers, before she decides to sit down next to Beatrice. For this side she can clearly see the flicks of ink from the howler across the girl’s face.
She wants to clean the girl's face, to wipe away any mark her family could possibly leave on her. But Beatrice is sensitive to touch and already clearly overwhelmed.
Ava’s not really sure what to say. The thing about Beatrice is she doesn’t really talk about her past unless she’s using it to comfort someone else. Most of what Ava knows about Beatrice’s home life are from those short glimpses, or passing comments from Lilith.
They sit like that for a while.
Eventually Ava breaks the silence “So. That was something.”
“Do you know what a hat-stall is?”
It's not the response Ava’s expecting but it's a lifeline of some sort, so she just goes with it “The thing where the sorting hat can’t place you?”
“For five minutes.” Beatrice adds. Her eyes now open as she makes sure not to look at Ava. Even from the side Ava can see the well of tears threatening to spill out. “The sorting hat can’t place you for over five minutes. It’s rare, happens once every fifty years or so. The last record hat-stall was Madam Superion. She stalled the hat for over 8 minutes. It couldn’t choose between all four houses.”
Ava waits for more context, but Beatrice doesn’t give any. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Shaking her head, Beatrice lets out a bitter laugh “It’s nothing.”
“A story about a witch defying a sentient hat making you cry is nothing?”
“....I was not a hat-stall.”
“...okay? I know you’re competitive but I’m sure it’s fine”
Beatrice clenches her fists and scoffs. “Your ignorance is really a downer sometimes.”
“Woah hey! what.. what's going on?”
“As usual you’ve missed the entire point.” Years of self hatred boil under her skin, threatening to poison her tongue, “There’s no term for the opposite of a hat-stall. For someone who is chosen so quickly that the hat doesn’t even fully touch the student’s head. I checked the school records, there isn’t a term, much less a record for the fastest sorting.”
“Okay,” Ava desperately wanted to ask when and how exactly Beatrice checked, as school records aren't exactly readily available in the library, but she figured that might be a question for later. “But, why are you so mad at me?”
Beatrice takes a deep breath “I'm not mad at you. I’m sorry. It’s just… I really hated that witless hat. It took less than a fraction of a second to look at my mind and call out a house that would absolutely destroy my life.”
Thinking back, Ava somewhat remembers the day. She hadn’t thought anything of it. Hufflepuff house gets teased for being a bunch of softies, but Ava knows better than to assume one’s house says everything about you.
Beatrice gives another laugh, but there’s still no humor in it. “When Lilith heard she spent exactly one day teasing me about it. Only one.”
It’s arguably one too many, but Lilith and her approach to her friendship would disagree. Afterall, learning and breaking limits is her forte. Actually now that Beatrice thinks about it, it might have only been one conversation. But what really mattered was how even if the other Slytherins hadn’t, Lilith had very quickly changed her tune.
Ava knows Beatrice is telling her something , but it's like she's telling her half the story.
“Why? Er.. How did that ruin your life?”
“My family are legacy Slytherin’s. Every single one of us is a pure-blood Slytherin. Me being placed in Hufflepuff was akin to me throwing away my family legacy.”
“But, you didn’t choose it. It’s not like you asked.”
Beatrice shakes her head, “The hat doesn’t forgo choice. Even if I didn't say it or think it, the hat knew.”
“Okay but that happened 6 years ago. Your parents can’t have just now figured that out.”
Personally Ava doesn’t get it. Okay, yes Hufflepuffs get teased a bit but it’s a great house to be sorted into. And sure she had thought once or twice that with how studious and academically proficient Beatrice is she could’ve done well in Ravenclaw, but it’s not like all Ravenclaws are good at studying, and it’s definitely not like every other house is bad at it. Besides, Beatrice always finds time for others. Sure she’s strict and disciplined, but Ava has never met someone more loyal and kind. Okay well maybe Camila, but she’s a whole different brand of kindness.
“They found out that same night. Came to Hogwarts as soon as they did. They demanded I be transferred to Slytherin, but the headmaster refused. They almost disenrolled me but the Mother Superion made arguments in my favor, stating how much worse it would look if I was pulled out. They tried to not let me come back the next year, but Mother Superion stepped in again.”
Beatrice’s eyes are almost glazed over. She’s cast in shadow as she leans against the pillar, not really looking at Ava as she speaks.
“That was the first time...” Beatrice trails off.
Ava waits, but the rest of the sentence doesn’t come.
In refusal to let the silence swallow them, Ava interrupts “They were mad about that? You parents suck balls”
The effort to keep the air light works in the sense that it does earn a slight smile from Beatrice. But it leaves as fast as it comes.
“So… what was the second time?”
Again no real answer falls.
Letting herself embrace the seriousness of the conversation for once, Ava bumps her shoulder ever so slightly against Beatrice’s. It’s a light touch, a graze even. But as she continues to speak, Beatrice returns the touch, although with not much pressure behind it. “Bea, I wanna be there for you,”
Beatrice knows what's coming next. She knows she’s going to have to explain herself. But she still waits for Ava to say it.
Ava’s hand gently rests on Beatrice’s leg. “You’re the one who told me to trust in my team. Well, that’s me, I’m on your side. I mean beyond Quidditch obviously, but yeah.” The latter half is added as a nervous addendum, but the earnesty of the statement carries through.
It is so very much like Ava to turn what Beatrice said back on herself. Because who ever takes their own advice? Of course she says exactly what Beatrice expects to hear. Because it's what she needs to hear.
Even if it's roundabout sometimes, Ava always sees her.
“I’m here. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I’m supposed to stay out of sight. Fly under the radar. Be perfect to the point of backgroundship. I’m not supposed to be playing against their alma mater.”
“They’re mad you’re playing Quidditch?”
“it’s a sport befitting the sick uncivilized brutes who play its,” the voice Beatrice uses isn't her own. Echoing her parents, she continues “Respectable witches have no business acting so masculine. It’s disgusting.”
The last part is spat out. Laced with secondary meaning.
“It’s not really about Quidditch is it?”
“No. No it isn’t.”
Ava thinks back to how hesitant Beatrice was to play, how she’s always kept her distance from so many things. How she’s always fit herself in a box, only taking courses, and never joined any clubs even though she’d be so amazing at everything. She can’t help but compare herself to the girl. Ava, who lives as boldly and loudly and unapologetically as she can, does so because of the limitations of her life outside of this school– and frankly inside of it too. She knows what it’s like to be shoved into a box. She’s fought like hell to get out of it.
It’s hard to watch Beatrice live the opposite.
“The second time was when I was 13. I was home for the summer, studying for OWLS.
“We didn’t take owls until our 5th year.”
Beatrice just gives her a look.
“Right I dunno why I said anything.” Ava lets her continue
“I was practicing possible potions for the exams. My mother had come in while I was making a love potion. She asked me what it smelled like.”
Ava nods along listening intently.
“I was naive. I told her the truth. That it smelled like adventure: the beach, to be specific, a kind of light saltiness mixed with fresh air, and the faintest hint of sweet lavender.”
As Beatrice retells the memory she continues to look in Ava’s direction, but slowly it's as though her eyes unfocus, as if she’s completely lost in memory as she speaks. It reminds Ava of how she looked at the dinner table as she listened to the Howler.
“She didn’t say anything at first. I didn’t even know I had slipped up at first. Not until she told me to brew Veritaserum.”
“The truth potion?”
Beatrice nods, voice cracking she continues, “While I brewed it she called my father into the study. The quills watched me to make sure I didn't tamper with the recipe. And then they made me drink it.”
Ava clenches her fist, bile rising up her throat. The air around her fills with a poisonous flavor, causing every breath to ache.
Almost too scared to hear the answer she asks “What did they ask about?”
Everything. They asked about school, whether I wanted to be a Slytherin, how I acted, what I was learning, who I talked to, who I spent time with, who I am….” Beatrice ducks her head “they asked for the names of my friends and for details about other students. Some who were children of their competitors.” Beatrice swallows the knot forming in her throat “And they asked about her.”
“Her?”
“The girl who the love potion smelled like.”
Heart breaking, Ava feels anger food through her veins, “That’s uncalled for! They can’t punish you like that.”
Beatrice laughs at that. A rueful bitter laugh. “ That wasn’t the punishment. It was the diagnostic. Afterwards they made sure to... recondition my priorities.”
The intense rage brimming under Ava’s skin flashes to ice cold. Bea hasn’t technically said it out loud, but Ava knows. The implications are clear.
“I’m sorry,”
It’s an ill-timed apology, but Beatrice knows it's not just for her parents or their lack of acceptance. She knows it's for the position Ava feels like she’s put Beatrice in. If anything it’s a mix of the three.
“Don’t be. It's not you.” Beatrice shakes her head as she looks down to her lap, hands folded neatly in them “It was everyone but you. My whole life people have tried to make me into something I'm not. To make me normal or at least acceptable . I became skilled at so many things just so I would still have value…despite my flaws. Or what I'd been taught was a flaw. Of course I tried to fit in,” she sees water fall across her fingers, as she reaches up to her face to find the source “but when you're punished just for being different, you begin to hate what you are. And then, what you… what you love, what should make you happy… only brings you pain.”
Beatrice’s hand stays floating before her face, as she looks at her own tears. “Pain is what made me who I am today.”
Ava stares intently at Beatrice, balancing a soft tone with an underlying force, placing careful emphasis on her next words, she says “Dont hate what you are. What you are is beautiful.”
Bea laughs through her nose, and slowly looks up at Ava, letting her eyes refocus.
Ava’s hand moves on its own to gently come up and rest softly on Beatrice’s cheek. Carefully she uses her thumb to whip away the tears Beatrice. Her eyes ever so slightly bounce back and forth between each of Beatrice’s pupils
“I'm sorry for your pain.”
Beatrice swallows, feeling herself put weight into Ava’s hand on her cheek. “Don’t be.” She feels her own eyes drift down to the other girl’s lips “I think I can like who I’ve become.”
Ava smiles softly, wiping the ink on Bea’s cheek with her thumb “Good. Because I do.”
Another silence befalls the two of them. One much more soft than before as the two just smile goofily at each other. The mood shifts back and forth between tension and warmth.
With Beatrice’s eyes on her, Ava can’t help the warmth that bubbles under her skin.
The two are inches apart, bodies turned awkwardly in on one another, but there's not an ounce of uncomfortability between the two of them. Rather, all Ava can think about is how she can feel Beatrice’s breath ever so lightly graze her lips, and how unexpectedly enticing it is.
Suddenly the realization hits that she has just been staring at the other girl.
A nervous laugh betrays her as she rushes to find the next moment. “I mean. I am really happy that you joined. I know you did it for me and I don’t wanna seem ungrateful, but you should do what's right for you. If I had known I'd've...”
“You’d’ve what?” Beatrice emphasizes the contraction, helping to keep the lighter mood.
“I dunno. I suppose fighting your parents isn’t something you’d approve of. I just, I didn’t mean to put you in a rough place with them… if you need to quit, I totally understand, and I will make sure no one holds it against you.”
“And lose your shot to beat Lilith and Mary?”
“Things change when you realize not everything is about you. I’ve been selfish. I didn't realize the position I put you in.”
“I haven’t exactly been forthcoming either.”
“Still Bea, I don’t want you to ruin your safety just for me.”
Beatrice wets her lips, a hungry look crosses her face “True but, maybe I'm doing it for me too.”
Beatrice’s hand has entwined with Ava’s as it rests against Beatrice’s face.
Oh .
Oh.
The warmth from earlier simultaneously crawls up Ava’s neck while pooling in her stomach.
Unasked questions begin to form on her lips.
Who did the love potion smell like? What happened to her? Did your parents know about me? Did I matter enough to be your answer? Could I be it now?
But she hesitates. She can’t be selfish again, not when Beatrice is looking at her like that. Not when this poor girl who has broken herself to fit a mold that doesn’t deserve her.
A smile that warm, that soft, that enticing, Ava would do anything to keep in front of her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to look away from it. Staring down at Bea’s lips, tongue wetting her own, she tries to steer the moment back on track. Her brain fights to form a complete sentence. Between heavy breaths she asks “Shall we go piss off your parents then?”
The question is meant to be about Quidditch, but seeing Beatrice’s reaction of biting her lip, causes Ava to choke.
If Beatrice’s smile was heaven, THAT had to be god itself, and Ava was devout.
As Beatrice ever so slightly leans in, Ava retreats. The movement isn't a reaction to the other girl, but rather a flurry of embarrassment as she tries to recover for her choice of words, wholly unaware of the consent of their effect “I mean, uh lets go destroy them– their team I mean. Not your parents. Although that would be nice too but yeah no let’s just uh— Death to Slytherin. Or well maybe just Crimson, but ya know” The string of words is barely understandable at the speed of which Ava releases them, hands blurring in hurried movements, as if she could swat away her own awkwardness.
Beatrice seems to pause for a moment. As if she’s deciphering something again. Reading inbetween lines Ava doesn’t know she has.
Seemingly having come to a decision she nods, giving space as she too backs out of their close encounter to stand up.
The sudden lack of Beatrice in her space, allows Ava the chance to breathe, and yet, instead of expanding her chest constricts in an unpleasant way.
She knows she's a mess, but how can she explain to Beatrice the mix of emotions gripping her heart. How do you look your best friend in the eye after they’ve just told you their childhood trauma and casually say Hi sorry your parents are homophobic shitbags but I think maybe the casual attraction I’ve always had for you at some point turned into deep seeded romantic affection and I don’t want to take advantage of you in this state, but I didn’t realize until just now. Also I want to jump your bones.
Absolutely not. Ava can’t. She’s bad enough with words as is, she can’t just drop a confession like that. Not when Beatrice has just come out to her. Not when she should be here for her as a friend.
“Are you ready?”
“Huh?” Confused, Ava is shaken from her thoughts.
“To go back to the field. We’re pretty late already.”
“Oh! Yeah, yes totally of course.”
Ava’s not sure how they’ve swapped roles. She’s pretty sure she had come here to bring Beatrice back. Granted that was before knowing the full context of everything, but regardless here they are flipped yet again.
Beatrice is still taking on the responsibility. Still being to one to keep them on track. But this time it’s to be accountable just to the people who love her, and not everyone who expects anything of her.
As Beatrice goes to lead them out of the room, she looks back at Ava, smiles reassuringly —though not as widely as before, as if she understands something Ava doesn’t know she’s told her— and grabs the other girl's hand.
Ava opts to peddle along behind the other, hoping she never has to let go.
———————————— ~ ————————————
Ava and Beatrice receive some curious glances when they enter the Hufflepuff tent; a mix of concern and amusement, what with Beatrice’s hand still entwined with Avas as she pulls her along.
Camila is one of the people who looks most delighted by the state of their arrival even though she notices some of the lingering awkwardness between the two.
The team had been laughing and chatting animatedly just before they entered and in order to keep the mood Camila does her best to direct everyone’s attention back to their previous topic “We were just discussing how many unnecessary backflips Lilith will do.”
“She means betting.” offers one of the Beaters
“The pot is up to 10 galleons. Most precise guess takes all.” Camila explains
“And here I thought you were a respectable witch, Camila.”
Camila just offered a cute smile, pleased with herself.
Ava and Beatrice hurry to get changed while the rest of them continue their conversation. The duo manages to finish with only a few minutes to spare before Hufflepuff has to be on the pitch.
They have to rush to make it to the waiting area underneath the stands.
Usually at this point Ava’s gone over the game plan once more and has given the team a pep talk. But they’re running behind and the doors to the pitch will open any second now.
Ava turns her back to the entrance to address her team, “Okay I don’t have time for a long uplifting speech,”
“Oh thank god.”
Ignoring the interruption Ava continues, gaze sweeping over the team “so I’ll just say this: We’ve worked really hard to prepare for this game, and I’m beyond proud of all you. Now remember, Slytherins all have one thing in common,”
“They’re way too serious.” It’s Camila who offers the explanation.
“Exactly. And that’s how we’re gonna absolutely shit on them.” Ava’s eyes land on Beatrice’s. Despite the creeping anxiety she’s feeling about their earlier encounter, she can’t imagine herself this excited with anyone else standing in front of her.
“Language.” Mouths Beatrice, not actually voicing the complaint, nor actually offended.
The door furls open in a show of magic behind Ava . “So,” A goofy smile betrays her face as she continues “let's have some fun.”
The Hufflepuff Quidditch captain falls backwards onto her broom in a flair of dramatics, leaving a gust of air behind as she soars laying on her back out towards the pitch.
The Hufflepuff team is close behind her hooting and hollering, each making their own unique entrance as they soar up into the sky for a quick formation before moving to their positions. The roar of the crowd as they enter the pitch is something Beatrice isn’t sure she’ll ever get used to. The seats were jammed packed, much more full than the skirmish had been. She of course has been to her fair share of matches over the years, but this was the first time to be on the receiving end of the cheers.
The anticipation for the start of the match is electric. And when Mother Superion blows the first whistle to start the match, Beatrice feels like the thunderous uproar that follows might knock her off her broom.
Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle first, and goes for an early and fast shot on the center goal. With four quick passes, each in order to dodge incoming Hufflepuff players, the shot is almost uncontested, but Beatrice watches as Ava side-sweeps it easily into the hands of a Hufflepuff Chaser with a laugh.
“Don’t pretend it’ll be that easy!” She jeers at the last Slytherin Chaser who just grumbles as a reply.
Hufflepuff makes their own play on goal, but sure enough Mary is fast to catch it.
Beatrice, for her part, is mostly at work scouting and maintaining her position as she dodges Beaters and Bludgers alike.
Slytherin early into the match returns to their habit of rough play. It’s nothing outside of the rules, at least not yet, but Beatrice is sure it’s only a matter of time. Especially with how Crimson is looking at her. After a few blocks by both teams and zero points on the scoreboard, things start to heat up.
Lilith is barreling towards the goal, Quaffle in hand, as two Hufflepuff Chasers try to catch her. She’s calling for attention, making a dramatic display of feinting out Beatrice’s teammates as they try to stop her. This includes a multitude of backflips, each of which Camila tries to keep count of. With Lilith as both a distraction and a real threat, two Slytherins speed in from either side in an attempt to knock out Ava, or at least pin her so she can’t defend.
Seeing this from the side, Beatrice calls it out to Ava with a poignant “Sandwich!!!”
At what seems like the last possible second, Ava stands up on her broom and jumps as high as she can upward, bringing her knees to her chest.
The two Slytherins moving at top speed can’t react in time and ram straight into one another. Unfortunately for the one who had been approaching from Ava’s left, they were the slightest bit slower and smaller, which leads to them looking much like a bug on the car window of the girl Slytherin who rams into them. As the two spin back off towards the left, Ava’s able to stick her landing, still standing, on the broom that waits patiently below her with only a fast incoming Lilith to worry about.
The Slytherin Chaser in question wears an evil gleam in her eye, assuming there's no possible way Ava can recover in time to block a wide enough shot.
This look however is quickly wiped from her face when she shoots for the furthest edge of the furthest hoop from Ava, only for it to be hit out of the way with the bristles as the Hufflepuff Keeper does what Yasmine announces as “A kickflip with a broom.”
Only about half the crowd gets the reference but it doesn’t stop them from going crazy.
The Quaffle is quickly recovered by one of the Hufflepuff Chasers who had been following Lilith back. She turns and starts to make a play back down the field.
The Slytherin Beaters are lucky with their timing and quick to react, as they manage to stagger send two Bludgers towards the Hufflepuff Chaser. She manages to dodge the first, but it puts her at a disadvantaged position with the second one in-bound.
Camila, however, is faster. She hangs down from diagonally above and hits the second Bludger right back into the face of the Slytherin who had sent it to begin with.
And so the match goes on like this. The more Slytherin tries to use force in exchanges, the more Hufflepuff seems to dance around them.
Ava especially so. She’s in her element— reckless flying not so much replaced but honed. She skates around the goal posts with casual freedom and joy, but she strikes like a shark.
Beatrice almost wishes she was on the sidelines just so she could watch her.
But she’s not.
A fact Crimson seems to be hellbent on reminding her of.
“Hope you’re enjoying it up here. This is your last game after all.”
Beatrice’s reply is innocent with an air of indifference “Intending to end my season early?”
Crimson just sneers, “I’m only stating facts. I’m sure mummy and daddy agree.”
“Ah. That explains the letter.”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.” The voice Crimson uses very much implies she does.
For some reason it doesn’t bother Beatrice. Not like she thought it would. If anything it’s a mystery solved. A form of closure.
In a moment of pure clarity she says “you want the burden of my legacy so badly that you punish me for my rejection of it.”
“You’re a disgrace to your family’s house and your lineage.”
“That’s my pain to bear, not yours to inflict.”
“You don’t even know pain yet.”
She’s wrong. Beatrice does. She knows every kind of pain. Violence, fear, trauma, physical, psychological, emotional, and after this afternoon maybe even heartbreak.
But she knows love.
How to build it.
How to earn it.
How to give it.
How to receive it.
Crimson mistakes her silence for fear. “Just say when you’ve had enough.” She taunts.
But Beatrice doesn’t back down.
The two play their own game of chase. Beatrice hasn't seen the glint of the stitch anywhere, but she puts her acting skills to the test. Switching between positioning, repositioning, fake charges, and distracting, Beatrice has put Crimson’s patience to the test.
Either unable or unwilling to play the same mind games, Crimsons main focus has just been repeatedly slamming into Beatrice’s side.
Beatrice doesn’t bother attempting to dodge. She’d rather keep the girl up close and personal. However, she doesn’t let Crimson restrict her own movement. More than once already she’s dropped, flipped, dived to make sure that even with Crimson’s hits, she doesn’t get pinned down by the girl.
Yasmine, narrating in the stands, voice booming from a spell, offers in surprise “I didn’t know acrobatics was a house skill.”
Of course it’s not like Hufflepuff is escaping every hit but for the most part they’re doing well, and with every strike they seem to get better.
In one particularly nasty exchange Mary manages to slam a Hufflepuff Chaser, who had been making an attempt on goal, into one of the goal posts.
The Chaser catches herself but even Ava, from the other side of the pitch grimaces at the hit the poor girl takes. “Oof. A little on the nose much?”
Caught up on the other side of the field she’s not prepared for the uppercut of the Beater's stick that slams into her face. The Slytherin Beater had been tactfully, albeit in poor sportsmanship, winding up to hit a Bludger as he soared up from under Ava and managed to clock her as he swung through at the Bludger.
It’s not a strong enough hit to knock her off her broom but it’s no small hit either and the blood is already gushing from her nose.
“AUGH, that is not what I meant!” Clutching her nose she mumbles out an “ I just got that fixed .”
“Incoming!” Beatrice’s voice calls out to her again.
She looks up from the blood pooling in the palm of her hand just in time to see Lilith flying at yet again, Quaffle in hand and smirk on face.
It's a play Beatrice has seen from the stands a hundred times. Lilith’s going to pretend to shoot early. If Ava dives for it she’ll hold the ball and aim for a different hoop. If Ava doesn’t dive, Lilith will actually let go on the first throw. She knows Ava has already clocked what’s about to happen but Beatrice still changes her trajectory to beeline for the goal posts.
So Ava does the only thing she can think of: ignoring the warm pulse in her face, she dives for the first throw.
Or at least it looks like she does. Pretending to fall for the feint, Ava appears to dive to the left, but rather than go directly straight to block the shot, she corkscrews her body, and thus her broom, around to the other far hoop. It’s a close move, and not one with a lot of force but with the very edge of her broom she’s able to smack the thrown Quaffle out of the air.
The Quaffle is still however too close to Hufflepuff’s goal for their liking, and Ava can’t recover from her swing fast enough to re-hit it out of the zone.
Everything happens in an instant. Lilith is able to recover the Quaffle by spiraling down for it, but her window to take another shot is rapidly closing. She knows she won't be in a great position for it, but counting on Ava’s longer recovery time, she forces her initial catch of the Quaffle to fluidly be the same motion as her throw.
At the very same moment, a fast approaching Beatrice, with a pissed off Crimson in tow, dives past the goal.
Beatrice can’t use her body or broom to block the goal. Only the team Keeper is allowed to do so, especially this close to the posts. But there isn’t a rule about a Slytherin blocking their own goal.
Crimson, who is just a second behind Beatrice and wholly unaware of the context of the situation, perfectly blocks the throw of the Quaffle as she zips by. As it bounces off the side of her and into the hands of the Hufflepuff Chaser Mary had practically thrown into the goal pole earlier.
Lilith, absolutely outraged, can’t actually believe what just happened.
And neither can Yasmine, who is currently explaining to the crowd how unprecedented of a block that was “Hufflepuff pulls off a Chicken Dive! We haven’t seen that at Hogwarts since 1973!”
The spell doesn’t pick up anyone else’s voice, but someone must’ve asked how Yasmine knew that –probably Shannon– because her voice continues “You haven’t read Hogwarts: A Quidditch History?” and then, “i’d hardly call 1300pages long.”
Ava, whose smile is covered in blood from her nose roars above the wind “We’re not here to play rough but if you fuck with us then you’ll leave us no choice. We will kick the ever-loving shit out of you because we are the goddamn Hufflepuff Quidditch Tea-”
The hyped speech is immediately cut off as Ava gets hit by a slammed into by Lilith who simply rolls her eyes.
“Lets have less of that bravado shall we?”
With her focus on Ava, Lilith isn't prepared to receive a Bludger to the back of the head from Camila.
The THUMP that happens upon impact is followed by a collective wince from the crowd.
Mary actually laughs when she sees it happen.
Faintly due to the distance Beatrice can hear the curly haired girl say “I really hope I got that message right.”
Beatrice is sure Lilith will deal some payback for that move, although she’s not sure to who, but she doesn't have the freedom to watch how that’ll play out as Crimson is back in her face, even more annoyed after being used to block Lilith’s shot.
Pulling her away from Ava is Beatrice’s first priority. The less people in the Keeper’s space the more she can work. Besides, Beatrice would rather the target stays on her own back.
And that it does. As Beatrice tries to move them downwards to the edge of where the pitch meets the stands, Crimson is hot on her trail.
The Slytherin girl continues to push and push. Ramming into Beatrice over and over. Beatrice still doesn’t fully dodge any hit. She just keeps them moving, avoiding any kind of stagnation. That is until Crimson slams into her side again, this time throwing even more of an elbow into it. It hits Beatrice in the stomach, harder than she had meant to let it, and moves her trajectory into the side of the pitch stands.
She collides with the wall hard, allowing Crimson to get in front of her, entangle their brooms, and effectively pin the Hufflepuff.
Camila, seeing this, strikes a nearby Bludger at the Slytherin girl, hard. It's fast incoming, and due to her own positioning the Slytherin girl can't move away quick enough. Right before it can make contact, Crimson swings her body out reaching for the hood of a passing Slytherin Chaser. Using him as a human shield, the boy is yanked off his broom and right into the path of the Bludger.
It's a hard hit. Much much harder than the one Camila had sent at Lilith.
The air is knocked out of the poor kid, spittle flying out as the Bludger digs deep into his stomach.
“Brutal use of teamwork by Slytherin’s Keeper” Yasmine narrates with a wince.
As gravity starts to catch up and the boy begins to fall Beatrice drops out from a distracted Crimson’s block, quickly catching the kid by a shoulder strap.
His brain can't seem to decide which matter is more urgent, the inability to breathe, or the fact that his broom is no longer beneath him. As his body wriggles with hacking coughs, he swings around wildly. Beatrice quickly tries to lower him down towards the ground without increasing the speed too much.
They get somewhat close to it, but the kid's panic is still too great and it's hard to keep a firm grasp on him.
In the end Beatrice has to drop him about three meters from the ground.
It's enough of a fall to still hurt, but not break anything. Probably.
At least she had managed to get him close.
Crimson laughs from up above enjoying watching Beatrice struggle.
Beatrice quickly swings back around flying straight up towards the girl. Stopping just a bit below and before the Slytheirn seeker, she glares up at the girl “you need a lesson in camaraderie.”
Crimson, enjoying the symbolism of being literally above Beatrice, juts her chin. Looking over her nose back down at the girl, she sneers “and you're going to teach me?”
And that’s when Beatrice sees it.
The faint glint of gold peeking out of the clouds above.
The Slytherin girl continues, wholly unaware “I've already beaten you once”
Beatrice starts to rise slowly, meeting Crimson's height.
“Sometimes you need to lose a battle to win a war.”
And then she rockets upwards. Knowing Crimson will follow, Beatrice is careful to not aim directly for the Snitch. Instead she heads upwards curving away from it.
Crimson for her part catches on quickly. Even with all the feints Beatrice has pulled, the amount of height they’re gaining is new. But she doesn’t actually see the stitch anywhere, at least that's how it seems to Beatrice.
Yasmine down below narrates their ascent into the cloud coverage. To the normal eye the two have completely disappeared. Of course the crowd below has their own variation of spells and enchanted equipment to watch on, but even with magic it's difficult to make out the finer details.
Having reached around the right height, Beatrice slows to cruising speed, facing away from the Snitch that's now lost deep in the cloud coverage. Surrounded by the cloud fog, it's nothing but whiteness around them.
Crimson seems well aware of their new found cover, growing more bold “Not as many peering eyes up here.”
Here it comes
Crimson attempts to corkscrew up and around Beatrice, aiming a kick at her head as she flies over.
“Predictable.” Beatrice dodges it with a slight movement of the head, coming to a full stop as Crimson disappears into the fog.
She waits
One, two, three, four, five.
“Left sweep.”
Sure enough Crimson appears from the left, attempting a low body kick.
Easily reading the move, Beatrice dodges by pendulum swinging in time with the movement– her head stays fixed to focal point as her body swings completely back around like a string compass, allowing Crimson to cross right through where Beatrice had been.
While swinging around she sees the glimmer of gold, in the distance.
Beatrice begins to move again, closing the gap from distant glint.
The Slytherin girl fumbles. In order to recover, catch up, and attack all at once she has to gain a lot of speed in a short amount of time. She flies a bit higher and tries to cut forward again, this time attempting to swing around in an effort to smack Beatrice across the face with her broom.
“Roundhouse.” Beatrice calls it as she casually leans back and guides the incoming broom past her with the side of her hand.
Each narration of attack is spoken cool and calmly, as if Beatrice is discussing the weather.
Crimson has to right herself from the spin, hair starting to fall out of her ponytail.
Beatrice is still on the move. Crimson whirls around attempting to kick the broom out from the Hufflepuff girl.
“Kick to the broom.” Fully expecting it, Beatrice catches her foot before it can make contact, but she doesn’t let go. Instead crimson is dragged along as Beatrice continues to fly through the clouds.
“Let go, you muggle-loving piece of shit!” Crimson yells as she tries to shake her foot free.
Beatrice drags her a bit further before releasing the girl.
Without hesitation Crimson attempts another attack, lunging at Beatrice as if she's forgotten they’re thousands of meters above the ground.
Beatrice dives out of the way, using her momentum to swing around to Crimson’s side and, careful to not use any force, she just barely taps her. “Bit of an opening on your left”
The gesture is enough to send Crimson over the edge into a wild rage.
However before she can make her next move ( another side slam attack, this time with an elbow aimed at my head ) she finally notices the glint of the Snitch, now very close to the two of them.
Crimson screams. Maybe with rage or indignation? Beatrice isn’t sure. But she knows she’s managed to piss her off royally.
The two make a break for their target.
Unfortunately it seems the Snitch feels them incoming because its general fluttering about has been replaced with blurringly fast speeds.
The glint still bounces around haphazardly, as if it’s magically teleporting between locations.
Crimson and Beatrice are flying at max speed but it’s non linear. The way the Snitch is moving has them craning and turning, dropping, rising, and spinning. It’s enough to make your head spin.
Crimson, unable to beat Beatrice’s agility, opts to use her specialty again: pure brute force.
She takes a sharp turn, gaining some distance from the girl before cutting across back into her. “I WONT LOSE TO A NOBODY LIKE YOU”
Beatrice takes the hit but just plows forward without breaking speed.
The Snitch’s glint disappears.
Beatrice smiles, ignoring the pain in her body.
“Just say when.” She repeats back to the Slytherin girl.
And then she too disappears.
Crimson tries to follow but she’s too disoriented from their earlier fight and the crazy flying and its making up and down seem like the same direction. It takes her half an extra second to figure out what the hell just happened.
That little amount of time makes the difference
She tried to cut down the way Beatrice seemed to disappear too.
Emerging from the clouds Crimson sees it. Below her Beatrice is flying straight downwards, arm stretched out, reaching for the Snitch.
She chases after her, only seconds behind, but the speed at which she’s flying and the angle makes it impossible for the Slytherin Keeper to catch up in time.
There’s no shortcut.
No angle she can take.
Just say when.
No matter how fast she goes there’s no way she can catch up.
Still flying straight down after her, Crimson pulls out her wand from her sleeve.
“When.”
A concerning green light appears from the tip of her wand.
Camila yells something. Lilith and Mary charge forward.
But it doesn’t matter.
Beatrice’s hand closes around the Snitch.
Her other closes around Ava’s hand who whips her around 180 degrees with a pained grunt.
Charging back upwards, Snitch still in hand, Beatrice decks Crimson square in the face.
It only takes one solid hit to knock the girl unconscious.
And as an added bonus the golden Snitch’s metal is apparently hard enough to take a few teeth out with it.
Crimson’s broom shoots out from under her as Beatrice’s fist prevents her body from moving any further forward.
She hangs in the air, limp around Beatrice’s fist, wand falling to the ground.
Beatrice hopes it breaks.
Yasmine’s voice yells through the skies “BEATRICE HAS DONE IT. HUFFLEPUFF HAS CAUGHT THE Snitch.”
Like the girl’s teammate before, Beatrice adjusts her fist so that it's grasping Crimson’s collar and shoulder strap and begins to lower back down to the pitch. This time however she isn't as careful to slow her speed, And then just above the ground she lets the girl's unconscious body fall.
They’re low enough that she won't die. Besides the crack to the skull is probably more urgently needing assessment.
Whatever. Madame Salvius will fix her.
Beatrice touches down. Hufflepuff teammates quickly inbound cheering loudly.
Behind her she hears various cussing mixed with adoration spilling out of her captain’s mouth
She tries not to smile at vulgarity.
It doesn’t matter because when her team swarms her yelling obscenities and practically jumping to either hug or hold her she smiles anyways.
Ava’s the last to join. She’s shaking hands with Lilith, and saying something to Mother Superion. Mary is standing nearby, arms crossed listening intently. They all throw a look over to the medical staff who are already on the field addressing Crimson’s body.
Ava looks back at Mother Superion who exchanges a few more words and then nods at her sharply before turning to walk over to Crimson with Lilith and Mary following behind.
And then the seriousness on Ava’s face melts away.
She’s beaming.
More accurately she’s beaming at Beatrice.
Beatrice feels her face flush.
The captain runs over hollering the whole time which only reinvigorates the current cheering and yelling going on around her.
They did it.
They won.
Ava throws her arms around the Hufflepuff Keeper, having pushed through the crowd yelling “MAKE WAY, CAPTAIN INCOMING”
Beatrice lets the weight of the smaller girl collide into her. She lets it push her to the ground. The team is still cheering, jumping up and down hugging each other around them.
“You were amazing!”
“Just doing as my captain told me.”
“Nah no way. I take no credit. That was all you.”
The smaller girl is fully on top of her, tangling herself into the other girl.
Beatrice’s blush is in full force.
Their earlier conversation slowly returns to the edges of her consciousness.
Does she remember? Did she understand? As far as Beatrice is concerned, she basically confessed to the smaller girl. But Ava is Ava and as easy as she is to read, she's also more complex than meets the eye.
Yes, it's incredibly easy to tell when she’s happy or excited or scared or stressed. The girl wears every emotion on her sleeve.
No, it’s not easy to tell what she’s thinking when she feels any of those things.
But right now Beatrice just wants to enjoy this moment. Enjoy her moment. To enjoy her …
“Alright, alright, alright.” Camila’s voice cuts in “I’ve heard we’ve got to go back to the common room.”
“Right now?” Whines Ava who’s obviously enjoying the moment and –unbeknownst to Beatrice– the contact.
“Right now. Shannon and Yasmine’s orders.”
“Shannon and Yasmine? Whose common room are we even going to?”
———————————— ~ ————————————
Turns out it’s the Hufflepuff common room, but it’s not just the Hufflepuff house.
Ava’s not sure how Yasmine and Shannon managed to pull it off, but they seemed to convince both the enchanted barrels that operate as the common-room door and the entire kitchen staff to help them throw an afterparty.
People from every house have filed in. The Hufflepuff common room isn’t normally big enough to fit everyone, but when has physical limitation ever really been a thing at this school?
The more people arrived, the more the room stretched and grew, as if it’s actually excited to be hosting.
Food and drink, just like for the Great Hall, is endlessly available to anyone who wants it. Magically refiling as it is consumed. Ava is tempted to ask how they got such a massive stash of Butterbeer, but knowing Shannon, it’s better to let things lie.
The party kicked off well. Ava gave a rousing speech, thanked the Slytherin team –all except those sent to the hospital-wing had happily showed up– for an epic match, thanked “those who shall remain a mystery in case we later get in trouble for this” for organizing the celebration(though she does glance in Yasmine and Shannon’s direction when she says it), and then proceeded to attempt to do a keg stand to kick the party off.
It hadn’t been a great keg stand but so far it's been a great party.
As Ava makes the rounds, playing host to a party she didn’t plan, her usual group of friends on one of the staircases to the upper level of the common-room. Well, all except Beatrice. She had been stopped by Mother Superion on the way back to the common-room.
“So, what are they gonna do about Crimson?” Yasmine inquires
“Well she’s off the team for sure. Unnecessary force and illegal use of magic.” Lilith waves her hand uninterestedly, as if she doesn’t need to find a new seeker stat.
“I heard at the end of the match Mother Superion saying she intends to give her a life-long flying ban?” Yasmine asks
Mary nods “Yeah, but I’m guessing Beatrice is speaking up for her right now.”
Shannon shrugs “Are you sure about that? She can be brutal when she wants to be. The crack to the face was enough to tell us that.”
“As if we didn’t know before.” Lilith grumbles
“Still salty she blocked your shot today? Or is your brain still rolling around from Camila’s hit?”
Lilith just gives a grunt of indignation while Camila beams beside them.
“Nah,” Mary turns back to Shannon and Yasmine. “it’s not the punishment she’d want her to have.”
Shannon seems to weigh this fact before slowly nodding her head in agreement.
Yasmine however doesn’t grasp what Shannon means, confusion evident on her face.
Camila pipes up “If Bea speaks up for her, then every single time Crimson flies, it’ll be because Bea allows her to.”
“Ohhhhhhhhhh. Oh she’ll absolutely hate that.”
Feeling her ears burn, Beatrice walks into the room. Most people don’t notice her at first. They haven’t exactly been waiting for her to join, and the party is already in full swing. But as she makes it further into the room, a few people happen to glance in her direction and start to greet her warmly.
Ava, feeling the buzz in the air, looks across the room at their star player.
A loud cheer rings through the common room as a few people rush Beatrice’s company to express their well-wishes, congratulations, or just general amazement.
It’s nice, but Beatrice won’t lie: it’s a bit overwhelming. She’s spent all of this time trying to keep a low profile. Sure she performs academically, but this kind of attention is different. Instead of just awe, there’s a sense of camaraderie. And not just from the Hufflepuffs.
Ava spots how ramrod straight Beatrice back is as various people hang around her making small talk out of genuine interest. She has to push through everyone in order to make it to the Seekers side, but she does manage in the end.
“She's here! Hufflepuff’s MVP!!” Ava yells, throwing her arms up as she leans into Beatrice a bit. She speaks loud enough to address the crowd around them, but the words are meant for Bea. “How about we go change out of these sweaty uniforms before we continue to celebrate?”
Beatrice gives Ava an eyebrow before nodding in agreement with the escape plan.
Ava smiles, grabbing Beatrice’s hand so she won’t lose her in the mass of people. The two manage to squeeze through the crowd to the stairs towards the dormitory. It’s the same set of stairs their friends are sitting on.
“Well well well. Look who showed up,”
“Beatrice’s back!”
“How’d it go?”
Now in front of their friend Ava goes to release Bea’s hand but the other girl reaffirms the intentionality of their grip without looking down at their connection. Ava, surprised but not upset by it, smiles.
“It went alright. They conducted a full debrief. They looked at my memories and examined her wand to see what spell she was casting and their conclusion was just as we assumed.”
“Looked at your memories??”
“And that’s alright?”
“I was cooperative.” Beatrice says it as if she knew she would be ahead of time.
“But why your memories?”
“Crimson was still unconscious.”
“Damn Bea, how hard did you hit her?”
“She was starting to rouse when I left.” Beatrice returns to the earlier question, “They wanted another glimpse into what happened and to make sure I couldn’t alter anything. The professors had a partial view of what was happening in the clouds, but they wanted to see if they missed anything… if maybe I coerced her or attacked her first.”
“That’s stupid of course you didn’t.”
“Well. I was careful to not use physical force. But no, I definitely pushed her to do that.”
Everyone stares at her.
“You mean you orchestrated her whole breakdown?”
“Of course.”
The atmosphere explodes with yelling as her friends all begin to talk at once
“OF ALL THE STUPIDEST THINGS– HAVE YOU ACTUALLY LOST YOUR MIND??”
“YOU COULD'VE DIED"
“YOU KNEW SHE'D THROW THAT SPELL? A FORBIDDEN CURSE?”
Beatrice tries to ignore the attention they’ve caught from nearby party-goers as she calmly explains “Not that spell in particular but I assumed it would be something dangerous and prepared for the worst. And regardless of my intent, my actions were all well within the rules.”
“Damn.” Ava wiggles an eyebrow. “Beatrice is a scary”
“And what if Ava hadn’t been there?”
“Her spell would’ve curved to the left.”
“Explain how you could possibly know that.”
“She’s right handed and over compensates when aiming. During last year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts duels, her spells consistently hit the target a little to the left of center mass. Our distance from one another coupled with the disorientation she experienced in the clouds put her spell about two centimeters to my left.” Beatrice pauses, recalculating in her head. “Maybe 1.8 centimeters.”
“I’m gonna punch you. “ Lilith is pinching her nose.
“Wait, but she was literally three seconds behind you.” Ava asks “And whatever you did to her in the clouds you also experienced too so how could you guarantee you wouldn’t waiver a little bit while trying to fly in a straight line?”
“For the first part you’re forgetting movement and spell arc.” Beatrice calmly explains, rubbing her thumb over the girl's knuckle “the Snitch, myself and her weren’t in a straight line. Her exit point from the cloud would put her at an angle. Plus the Snitch was trying to escape my grasp so in order to maintain a high enough speed it had to reduce its chaotic flight trajectory. In addition to that, we were moving at high speeds that would cause her spell to arc even more unless she had enough force behind it which she wouldn’t be able to muster thanks to the fact she was disoriented and trying to catch up. As for my own disorientation, I used her loose hair.”
Mary squints “It’s like I’m listening to someone speak a different language.”
“Ah wait no I think I get it.” Shannon interrupts “The hair followed gravity?”
“When we weren’t moving, yes. But when we were flying it followed air flow. By calculating our speed, keeping an eye on the orientation of the gaps in the clouds, and watching which directions her hair trailed from I could keep an orientation on what was up and down.”
“You and your fog trails.” Ava can’t help but think back to that first day on the pitch.
“I don’t really get it but I’m gonna move on.”
“It makes perfect sense to me.” Yasmine offers
“Of course it would.” Lilith rolls her eyes
“So what happens next with Crimson?” Mary gets them back on track.
“I told the professors I wouldn’t press charges. I have no interest in taking her to the courts.” The thought of appearing in front of her mother’s peers is enough to make her ill.
“And what about the ban on her flying?”
“I told them not to.”
“So she just gets off punishment free?” Camila asks.
Not waiting for Beatrice to clarify, Shannon jumps in “No way. I’m sure she’ll still have to deal with the Ministry and school”
Lilith crosses her arms “Yeah but considering her family’s history, they’re gonna get involved and try to save face.”
Beatrice shrugs “It no longer concerns me.”
“And you’re good with that?” Mary seems skeptical.
“It was the intention actually.”
The group just waits for the explanation.
“She told my parents. So I made sure to make her do something that would reach hers.”
Lilith, Mary and Shannon seem to consider the implications of this. The two Slytherin girls especially share a look.
“the howler…”
“Knowing her parents, we might never see her again if you really think about it.”
“Knowing her parents, she might never see anyone ever again.” Mary corrects.
“Brutal. But effective.”
“I’d like to amend Ava’s earlier statement. Beatrice is really fucking scary.”
“Yasmine!! Language!”
“Ava you’re a terrible influence on her.”
“How am I being blamed??”
“You’re always to blame.”
“I didn’t even—“
“And you, you’re usually the catalyst” Lilith turns to Beatrice who merely hums. Ava’s not sure if it’s in agreement or denial.
“Anyyyyways.” Sensing danger Ava attempts to make a break for it “I did mean it when I said we should change earlier.” She pulls Beatrice up the stairs to the next level and then up a second set towards their dormitory.
Beatrice lets herself be dragged along.
“They’re beyond useless.”
———————————— ~ ————————————
Closing the door of their dormitory, Beatrice’s hand finally drops from Ava’s as they both head to their respective wardrobes to get changed.
Beatrice lets out a breath.
It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate the gesture of the party, but todays been a painfully long day.
Ava, hearing the girl sigh, seems to bristle behind her.
Ah. Right.
They hadn’t talked about it yet.
Beatrice supposes they should do it now. Before too much time passes. Before it becomes another thing Ava laughs off. Still, it’s difficult to find a start to the conversation. We almost kissed and I basically indirectly somewhat confessed to you but you kinda ran away and now I’m not sure how to bring it up again. Or if I even should because maybe that was your answer.
Fuck.
She’s tired. Tired of getting repeatedly hit by Crimson. Tired of feeling like she has to fit her life into a box.
She wants to be selfish. She wants to let this weight she’s carrying go. To put down her guilt and just be happy.
Ava. Ava makes her happy.
Having already removed most of her gear, Beatrice attempts to peel her shirt off of her own body. Her body aches from the repeated beating she received all game. With a quick flick of her wand she summons a couple floating mirrors to inspect the myriad of bruises that cover her body.
One particularly nasty one covers her rib.
She doesn’t know what in her brain possesses her to touch it but it hurts and she lets out a pained expression.
It’s probably what prompts Ava to run across the room
“Beatrice, Beatrice are you oka— oh fuck.”
She appears before a shirtless Beatrice before the seeker can get out a reply. Ava god bless her soul had apparently forgotten the whole reason they came up here was to change out of their Quidditch gear, and barged in at the first sound of trouble.
It’s not like she hasn’t seen aspects of each other in some small motion before. Sharing a dorm for many years comes with some personal territory overlap. That begin said Beatrice has always been careful to close the curtain around her area or use a divider.
And now Ava’s in her space, looking at her body with a worried expression. Beatrice stands there awkwardly in just a sports bra and unbuttoned pants.
Seeing the massive bruises on Beatrice's body, Ava’s hand raises as if to touch them.
“You should’ve gone to the hospital wing.” Her eyes don’t leave the site of Beatrice’s torso.
“And miss the party?”
“You don’t even like parties.”
Beatrice stands there watching Ava’s expression as her fingers gently land on Beatrice’s side, ever so slightly brushing her skin.
They gently trace the outline of the most notable bruise, grazing the edge of Beatrice’s abs.
It sends a shiver through Beatrice’s body, one that Ava mistakes for pain.
“Sorry,” she mumbles. Her hand starts to lift.
Beatrice’s fingers wrap around the other girl’s wrist. Their eyes meeting as she navigates Ava’s hand back to her own body. This time guiding it to allow the palm to land solidly on her skin while the fingers wrap around her side.
Beatrice's hand then slides up from Ava’s wrist to land at her bicep.
Her other hand lands on Ava’s waist.
The Keeper’s breath hitches. Her eyes flick back and forth between each of Beatrice’s.
Beatrice takes this moment to reassure her. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“It looks like it does.”
“Not if it’s you.”
Ava bites her lip.
Beatrice finds herself wondering not for the first time what it feels like. To bite those lips. To have those lips bite her.
They’re so so close.
“Ava, I want—“
I what? She can’t possibly utter the sentence that follows. I want to kiss you. I want to feel you. I want you. No. I need you.
Apparently she doesn’t need to say anything.
Because next thing she knows Ava is leaning into her, eyes closed kissing her.
It’s soft. Gentle. More gentle than Beatrice thinks someone as exuberant as Ava can be.
A part of Beatrice that feels fueled by years of intense internalized hatred wants to cry out in fear. To throw herself at the feet of the girl she’s tried so hard not to love. To beg forgiveness for the sin burning her body from the inside. After all, how can something that feels this good be anything but bad for her.
But Ava, good god, Ava is pulling her in closer and Beatrice is kissing her back and the burning within her crackles like electricity and everything as wrong as it might be feels so fucking right.
The kisses shift from gentle to hungry, and the pain Beatrice felt earlier melts away.
One of Ava’s hands is cupping her cheek while the other glides across her abs.
Beatrice doesn’t know when her own hand navigated to Ava’s hair but she doesn’t bother to question it.
Her entire being is bristling at the touch and even though she’s finding it really hard to remember to breathe, her lungs are filled with Ava.
Ava Ava Ava.
The smaller girl’s tongue prods Beatrice’s lips asking for permission in between a kiss and Beatrice immediately falls victim to persuasion.
A deep moan escapes her as Ava presses her thigh into Beatrice’s center.
The smaller girl laughs against her lips before continuing to kiss her.
Right now everything is perfect.
Right now everything is Ava.
And god Beatrice wants more.
Beatrice pulls the slightest bit away from the girl, who lets out a small whine in protest. The frustration fades as quickly as it came, as Beatrice navigates her kisses along Ava’s jaw line and down the side of her neck.
At some point they began to lean into Beatrice's wardrobe for support. Beatrice wonders how on earth they’re still standing, as their gravity seems to be pulling them together and not to the floor. She wonders if everything falls apart after this, could she find a spell to live only in this memory.
“Bea.” Ava moans out her name begging her for something. Maybe it’s to keep going, maybe it’s for more.
Beatrice doesn’t know but if she gets to hear Ava say her name like that again she just might do anything.
All six of her senses are alight with Ava. Haptic sensors pinging off the rails, feeling the rise and fall of Ava’s chest as the sound of her breath is deep and irregular. The lavender scent of her shampoo mixes with the taste of sweat.
“Just like the ocean.” Beatrice mumbles into her neck.
She can feel the laughter bubble up through Ava. “The ocean huh?” The mood slows, fire still licking under Beatrice’s skin, as comfort begins to settle into her bones. They’re holding each other. Beatrice’s mouth still lightly peppers Ava’s neck, but the urgency that possessed them moments ago waxes and wanes. “Is that your way of telling me I’m sun-kissed and refreshing?”
Beatrice halts her assault on Ava’s neck to look her in the eyes “More like briney and turbulent.”
Ava smacks Beatrice’s shoulder, right on a still forming bruise. Beatrice doesn’t even notice.
She’s too busy waiting for the other shoe to drop. Torn between enjoying the moment and preparing for it to be taken away.
“So.”
“So?”
“Is this a one time thing?”
“You’re kidding right? That’s how you ask me out?”
“Earlier when I tried to kiss you, you ran away.”
“When did you try to kiss me?”
“The clock tower room?”
“I don’t follow.”
“The whole family trauma reveal?”
“No I mean I was there for that I just, I didn’t know you were gonna kiss me. If I had known that we could’ve skipped the whole game and started this way sooner.”
“I think you are under-selling how much you enjoy Quidditch.”
“ I think you’re underestimating how much I enjoy you.”
Well shit.
Beatrice just blinks.
“So are you gonna ask me or what?”
“Ava,”
“Come on, say it. I’m quite the Keeper .”
Beatrice rolls her eye’s, and then leans in to kiss Ava once more. “You’re exactly what I’ve been seek ing.”
———————————— ~ ————————————
“They told you before me?”
“And you’re telling us?”
Much to Camila’s dismay, Yasmine is the one to break the news to the group. The curly haired Hufflepuff had always been the fastest at picking up on their not so subtle interactions. Maybe it’s having been around them more since they’re all in the same house and classes, or maybe she’s just perceptive. Either way; she was the first to observe and comment to their other friends that Ava and Bea had chemistry. She was also the first to recognize that Beatrice had feelings for Ava.
However, her ability to recognize the obvious didn't translate to the two Hufflepuffs in question. One of which remained blissfully unaware while the other seemed to punish herself. As much as she loves them, she has to admit, her friends are idiots. And thus, she’s been waiting for them to make any kind of progress for years. So for Yasmine to be the one to spot them kissing before her is the slightest bit annoying. Even if she’s happy for them.
“No, no I just,” Yasmine points, “I’m seeing them right now. Live.”
Across the way, Ava and Beatrice stand chest-to-chest, arms wrapped around one another, dancing in the common room. Despite standing in a pretty active crowd of students, they sway in their own little world.
After longer than their friends expected, they had returned to the party earlier, giving a quick wave to their friends as they brushed past to get some Butterbeer.
Seeing Beatrice dance might’ve been enough of an indicator on its own to suggest something was up, especially with how she has her arms wrapped around Ava’s waist, but what is most telling is the way the two of them are giggling and whispering to each other between soft kisses.
“I thought they’d never figure it out.”
“Oh gross. They might actually give you and Shannon a run for your money in the most-disgusting-couple-to-be-around department.”
Mary rolls her eyes ignoring the comment from Lilith “So were you just banking on the fact that Hufflepuff was gonna win? Or were you planning to throw them a consolation party?” She leans casually against the staircase banister, drink in hand “Because I don’t think the dungeons or the towers would be as happy to accommodate this many people.”
Yasmine gives a small laugh “To be honest, I just went with wherever was closest to the kitchen.”
Shannon shakes her head “You say that now, but when we were in the Great Hall you said–”
“Oh! I think I just heard someone call for me–” Yasmine practically jumps up from her seat on the stairs and flees the conversation.
Mary leans into Shannon, “She bet on them didn’t she?”
“Obviously.”
Lilith scoffs beside the pair. “And she’s supposed to be impartial.”
“Are any of us?”
“...I am.”
“No you’re not.”
“Whatever.”
“Oh speaking of bets,” Camila gives an amused look at Lilith “I have 10 galleons waiting for me to pick them up.”
The curly haired girl bounces away from the group, a little too victorious.
“I don’t want to know what to know, do I?”
Shannon just shakes her head solemnly.
The three of them stay together on the stairs.
“With graduation around the corner, it feels like the beginning of the end, in a way.”
“Please.” Lilith rolls her eyes “You say that now but we still have the rest of the year to get through.”
“True, but it’ll go by fast. Too fast.” Shannon sighs
“Then we better make the most of it. Besides,” Mary looks back over at their two friends slow-dancing in the crowd, “We’re not even halfway through, and it's already made for quite an interesting season.”