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Chapter Text

Growing up, there was a strange magic she could see that was different from her family’s. She saw droplets of strange blue light here and there, but no one else in her family could see them. She thought she was going crazy, so she kept it to herself. She refrained from pointing out any trickles of blue light to her family.

When she went to Hogwarts, she almost got a headache from sensing something in the area. She felt it strongest in the library, which vexed her as she couldn’t concentrate on homework there. She had to work in the Slytherin common room, which led her to be isolated for the most part.

Which was fine… It was easier to keep a secret if she didn’t have anyone to talk to. Sure, she had Nerida, but they mainly talked about Quidditch, especially after they made their pact.

Then all of the first-years attended Professor Fig’s Magic Theory class. For their first class, Professor Fig thought a way to draw in their attention was by mentioning myths of strange magic.

Imelda had stopped getting bored at that, carefully paying attention to the scarf-wearing teacher.

“Now, there are very few that witnessed extraordinary magic,” Fig continued with his hands behind his back. “Less than five, if even, have recorded the sights of pale blue glows. Ones that no one else could see but them.”

Imelda’s eyebrows rose. That sounded like what she had seen! She felt hopeful for more of an answer, and she sat up on the edge of her chair, wanting more of an answer.

A hand shot up.

“Yes, Mr. Sallow?” Fig asked, clasping his hands in front of himself.

“How is it believable for magic to only be seen by a few people? What if they were making it up?” Sebastian asked.

I’m literally sitting behind you, and I can see this magic, Imelda thought with irritation.

“That’s a very good question,” Fig praised, nodding to him. “This…ancient magic was recorded to be seen over the course of centuries. It would be hard to keep up a lie over centuries, so we can logically assume these people are truthful in their findings.”

“Have there been any that could harness it?” Anne spoke up next to her twin brother.

Fig smiled a bit at the eager tone of a student wanting to learn more. “As a matter of fact, yes, but the last notion was around the fourteenth century.”

Imelda tried to wrap her mind around this. She could see magic no one had used in five hundred years? Why her? Why did she have to be the mental one to see this magic no one else could?

Imelda leaned her cheek against her hand as Fig continued his lesson with a different myth of magic that didn’t concern her. Throughout the rest of the class, she was debating whether or not to talk to him.

The hour was soon up, and Fig chuckled at seeing most students quickly get out of their chairs. “Have a good day, students! I’ll see you for your next lesson!”

Imelda watched most of her peers walk past her, and she even heard the Sallow twins talk excitedly about Magic Theory. She had heard they were children of professors, so maybe that was why they were most enthralled by this class.

When most of the classroom was empty, she slung her school bag onto her shoulder and went up to the professor. He had his back to her, erasing the chalkboard with his wand.

Imelda held tightly onto her bag’s strap and nervously cleared her throat. “Professor Fig?”

He turned around with a curious lift of his eyebrows. “Ah, Ms. Reyes,” he said. “How can I help you?”

Imelda bit her lip. It was now or never. She followed her gut and desire for more answers, and she uttered, “I…can see this magic you talked about.”

Fig gaped at her for a moment. “Truly?” He asked, stupefied.

She nodded. “It’s like…droplets to me,” she explained. She hesitated before taking out parchment from her bag. Her tight grip on it made it crinkle a bit. “I was…sketching them during class.”

Fig carefully picked up the parchment, and he stared at the small drawings of this magic. “Fascinating,” he whispered. He looked back at her. “You wish to know more of this ancient magic?”

“Please,” Imelda insisted.

Fig handed the parchment back to her. “Have you told your parents?”

Imelda shook her head. “I was worried they would think I went mad.”

Fig hummed. “I suppose that is a worry,” he muttered. He gave Imelda a small smile. “Do not worry, Ms. Reyes. My wife and I are avid researchers of this, Miriam more than me.” He chuckled with fondness at the mention of his wife. “I shall write to her about this, and we’ll see what we can find.”

Imelda’s shoulders lowered. Finally, she had a lead of some kind about what was wrong with her. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any dead ends, and she could know more about this ancient magic. “Thank you, Professor.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, nodding to her. “Now, you must get to your next class, or you’ll be late.”

Imelda gasped and ran out of the class. She didn’t want to start her first year in Hogwarts with being tardy! Her father had told her that as long as she kept a good record in school, she would be one of the first considerations for a professional Quidditch team. Right after they considered her flying and playing skills of course, but she was already diligent in her training and practice. She wasn’t worried about that.

She barely made it to Potions on time, and she collapsed into the closest empty spot. She panted hard, her lungs aching from losing breath so quickly. At least she wasn’t late. That was what mattered.

She thought she heard something, but she couldn’t hear over her heavy breathing. Then she felt annoyed when someone tapped her shoulder. She glared over her shoulder, meeting green eyes.

“What?” She asked, not able to keep back her irate tone.

The boy frowned, and Imelda took a better look at him. The boy was a Gryffindor, with red hair and freckles. The back of her mind pricked as if she should know his name, but she was too tired to think right now.

“You’re in my spot,” he said.

“I didn’t see anything of yours—” She looked down, spotting a school bag next to her feet on the floor. She blushed with embarrassment, even more at seeing the boy smugly cross his arms. He reminded her of Sebastian, a boy she thought was cocky as well.

“If you don’t mind,” he drawled with a self-satisfied grin. He gestured for her to get off the stool. She glared at him, but did so. “Thank you,” he lilted before sitting on the stool.

Imelda rolled her eyes and looked for another spot to sit at. She didn’t want to be next to this smug prat.

“Ms. Reyes, if you are looking for a place to sit, there is a spot next to Mr. Weasley,” Professor Sharp pointed out.

She felt even more embarrassed at being called out in front of the entire class, but when she saw who exactly “Mr. Weasley” was, she groaned. The smug boy raised his eyebrows as he leaned his head against his hand. She stiffly moved to the open spot kneazle-corner to him, refusing to meet his curious gaze. She was mostly mad at herself for not picking this spot in the first place. If she had just picked this spot, she wouldn’t be dealing with Weasley being smug, nor would she have been called out.

Imelda was so immersed in her self-anger that it was like a blink of an eye when Sharp let the students go gather potion ingredients.

“I’m Garreth, by the way,” the boy said as he got up. He tilted his head. “What’s your name?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She snapped.

Garreth blinked and then frowned at her bad attitude. “Fine, be that way,” he said back. “I’ll just figure it out.”

Imelda watched him leave for the inventory, and she sighed. A part of her felt bad for lashing out, but she didn’t want to humor the boy that was practically gloating. She slowly got up and did the same as her classmates to get the needed ingredients for a Wiggenweld potion.

With any luck, this would be the only time she would be this close to Garreth Weasley.

~~~

Imelda smiled at seeing plenty of students flying over the Quidditch Pitch. It looked like there were some contenders, but she was confident in making it anyway.

“Come on, Nerida,” she said, tugging the sleeve of her friend.

“I don’t know…” Nerida mumbled as Imelda practically dragged her to the field. “First-years hardly ever make the team!”

“We’re going to make history, then,” Imelda stubbornly replied. She was now running to the pitch, and Nerida scrambled to match her pace as Imelda still had a surprisingly strong hold on her sleeve.

Imelda watched a group of students fly down to the ground, a few rubbing their arms and rolling their shoulders. By their broad shoulders and builds, Imelda knew they were trying out for Beaters.

The girl wearing the entire Quidditch attire of cape, arm guards, shirt, and boots nodded to herself as she wrote notes on her floating parchment. Imelda knew she was the captain, and she instantly thought, I’ll be just like her in a few years.

“Alright, Chaser try-outs are next!” She called out. She flicked her straw-colored ponytail back and looked expectantly at the group.

“That’s us,” Imelda quietly said to Nerida, intent on marching up, but she was held back by Nerida not moving. She turned to her with a huff. “Nerida!”

“I-I changed my mind, I don’t want to try out.” Nerida glanced at the other students, obviously intimidated and shrinking into herself. She was making herself even smaller as a first-year.

Imelda sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Your loss,” she remarked before letting go of Nerida’s sleeve. Nerida looked at her with hurt, but Imelda didn’t have time to worry about her. She joined the other students that stepped up, ignoring their snickers as they saw a little girl among teenagers.

The captain’s steel-blue eyes landed on Imelda. Imelda felt indignation as the captain scoffed.

“I think you’re confused, kid,” she derided. “Spectators sit in the stands, not the pitch.”

Imelda lifted her chin, defiantly meeting her eyes. “I signed up to try-out for a Chaser position. Imelda Reyes.”

The captain stared at her a long moment before slowly looking at the names. Imelda smirked at seeing the captain’s mocking expression drop. The captain then frowned at her. “There’s no point to try-out, Reyes. First-years are never better than at least third years. Go and play with Wingardium Leviosa.”

A few of the students around her snickered, but Imelda did her best to not flush at the horrible attention. “I’ve been training since I was four,” Imelda bluntly said. “I live and breathe Quidditch, just like my father and grandfather.” She took a step forward. “I’ll even bet a Galleon that I am better than most of these prats behind me.”

“You have some nerve,” one of the boys that snickered at her said.

“The point is: I signed-up. It’s only fair that I try out,” Imelda said, still focused on the captain.

The captain rolled her eyes. “You’re either overconfident or arrogant. I don’t want to bother—”

“Aw, come on, Crouch,” another boy spoke up. “Don’t be a grouch.”

Some students in the back stifled their laughs at the wordplay, and Imelda held back a smile. The captain glared at the boy that said that. “Excuse me, Cooper?”

The boy wasn’t fazed by her death glare. “She signed up. It’s like a contract. I say let her try it out. The worst is that she won’t make it, or… She proves you all wrong that she is a capable player. Either way, Cordelia, you’ll be satisfied.”

“How so?” Cordelia impatiently asked.

“If she doesn’t make it, you’ll be satisfied to have knocked her off her high hippogriff.” Imelda was about to open her mouth to loudly rebuke the boy’s audacity. “Or she makes it, and you’ll certainly have the best Chaser of the year.”

Imelda leaned forward to look past other students to try to see the boy vouching for her. He had black, messy hair and bright green eyes, and had to be about two years older than her. This boy, Cooper, also had a small smile on his face.

Cordelia seemed to be considering his words, and she eventually sighed. “Very well. Reyes, you may try out. We’ll see if there’s any merit behind your claims.”

Imelda felt a surge of confidence in her heart. “There is,” she said.

Cordelia made a doubting noise before gesturing for her to ascend. Imelda mounted her Night Dancer and took off. She took a deep breath. Any nerves she had dissipated as she was high in the air, in her element.

When a few more joined her in the air, Cordelia gave them the rundown on how the try-outs will go. They were to work as a team, but she also wanted to see how they work individually. She wanted to see their maneuvers and how well they scored. Imelda smirked to herself. She had maneuvers ingrained to practical muscle memory when she was nine.

Sure enough, at the end, she managed to outrace most of the competition. She could easily move away from others attempting to steal the Quaffle, and she scored almost as much as a few others.

The most satisfying part was seeing all the students that laughed at her be shown up by her. Including Cordelia.

The captain sighed. “Alright, Reyes,” she grumbled. “You proved your point.” Imelda grinned as Cordelia added, “You’re a Chaser. As well as Cooper and Malfoy.”

“Thank you, Captain,” she said.

“Move along,” she dismissed. She then called out, “Seekers! Let’s go!”

Imelda shook her head and walked away. She was certain Quidditch captains should be nicer than that, but she would have to ask her father when she wrote about the good news.

She was heading to where Nerida was sitting when Cooper ran up to her. He grinned. “I heard you got in!”

“So did you,” she pointed out. He waved nonchalantly about it, and she blushed faintly as she added, “Thank you for vouching for me.”

“Not a problem,” he easily said. “Everyone should have a chance to try out if they want.” He chuckled at seeing a few surly fifth-years. “And clearly, you wanted it.”

“Obviously.”

He held out a hand. “Isaac Cooper.”

“Imelda Reyes,” she responded as she shook his hand.

His eyes lit up. “Your father is Phillip Reyes, isn’t he?”

She nodded, pride swelling in her heart. “He is.”

Isaac chuckled. “I thought so! I heard about him being a player for the Slytherin team for four years!” He perked up. “You’re not by any chance related to the Puddlemere United Chaser Diego Reyes too?”

“He’s my grandfather,” she affirmed with a grin.

“Wow! A whole family of Quidditch players!” Isaac grinned even more. “No wonder you’re talented on a broom.”

Imelda blushed at his praise. “It’s in my blood,” was all she said.

“Obviously,” he echoed her response from earlier with a laugh. “Well, I’ll see you in training!”

“See you,” she weakly replied before Isaac ran to his two friends, which were a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff.

She went to Nerida, who had a bored look on her face. Nerida lifted her head when Imelda was right in front of her. “How did it go?”

“I got in,” Imelda said. “Like I told you.”

“Congratulations,” Nerida said with a smile.

“You could have made history right with me,” Imelda instantly said as if she were scolding her.

Nerida wilted. “I can’t do half of what you do!”

“I told you that if you just practiced more, you could,” Imelda dismissed with a wave.

Nerida sighed and got out of the stands, and they walked out of the pitch. “Either way…congratulations again for making the team.”

“Thank you,” Imelda replied.

She glanced at where Isaac was still conversing with his mates. While she was grateful for him sticking up for her, she felt like she owed him. She would have to figure out a way to pay him back.

~~~

Imelda looked up at seeing books be put down in front of her on the table. She frowned as she recognized the ginger.

“Imelda,” Garreth said.

Her eyebrows furrowed, waiting for him to say more. When he didn’t, she set down her quill. “What?”

“I finally got your name,” he said with a victorious grin.

Imelda blinked. He was really wanting to know her name? That Potions class was months ago. “Well, good for you,” she remarked. She felt indifferent about this boy, and she got up to gather her homework to go somewhere else. “Why did you care so much?”

He shrugged. “I was curious why you didn’t care to share your name.”

“I didn’t think it was needed.”

“But I gave you my name,” he reasoned.

She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t have to share anything with you if I don’t want to,” she stoutly said.

“What’s your problem?” Garreth demanded as he crossed his arms. “We’re supposed to get along despite being in different Houses.”

“I don’t hate you if that’s what you’re so worried about,” she said with exasperation. “I just don’t care to be friends.”

“But why not?” He pressed.

“I don’t have time,” she answered, feeling a little annoyed. “I have Quidditch practice, and I have homework like you do.” Also possibly more, she thought. Professor Fig had recently told her that Miriam found a promising lead, so she was hoping she would finally have answers.

Garreth stared at her for a long time. “Okay,” he said. “Well…at least we’re not sworn enemies or something.”

“At least out of the Quidditch Pitch,” she pointed out.

Garreth chuckled. “I guess that’s true.” He watched her grab her books. “It was…nice to meet you, I guess.”

“Er, likewise,” she said, unsure what else to say. She then remembered her old guilt from months ago, and she added, “Er…I’m sorry…for snapping at you in our first potions class.” He looked surprised, and she averted her gaze. She swallowed more of her pride. “I was mad at myself, not you, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“…Apology accepted,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. She was about to walk away, but then a head rush suddenly came over her. She swayed on her feet, blinking as she felt a strange pull. As if…she was supposed to go somewhere.

“Are you alright?” Garreth asked.

Imelda blinked, and the sensation was gone. She glanced at Garreth, who was looking at her with concern.

“I’m fine,” she said.

He didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t let him try to press for details. She left the library, and it wasn’t until she was nearing the Slytherin common room that she wondered if that strange feeling was because of ancient magic…

~~~

The rest of the year went by quickly. Imelda played well with the rest of the Slytherins, and they won the Quidditch Cup, earning more respect from the upperclassmen. Cordelia had even tried to have her celebrate with a smuggled firewhisky, but Imelda refused. She didn’t want to get caught with the firewhisky and get in trouble, possibly even losing her Chaser position.

She didn’t hear anything new from Fig, and she was a bit disappointed. So she instead just worked on her schoolwork and did her best in the exams at the end of the school year.

During the week after exams, Imelda was polishing her broom by the windows to the lake. Nerida was on her knees with her hands pressed against the glass as she looked through the murky water with wonder.

“They’re not going to come,” Imelda said.

“They could,” Nerida quietly insisted.

Imelda sighed and shook her head. Nerida had been like this ever since Imelda came back from the Christmas break. She wondered what could have possibly happened while Nerida stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas to make her obsessed with merpeople.

“Don’t do that.”

Imelda frowned and looked up. For once, Nerida glared at her, clearly angry. Imelda instinctively tightened her grip on her broom. “Don’t do what?” Imelda asked.

“Don’t disregard my interests just because they’re not the same as yours!” Nerida cried out. She moved away from the windows and stood in front of Imelda. She was still glaring at Imelda, but with hurt in her eyes this time. “You’ve been looking at me with contempt because I’m not as passionate about flying o-or Quidditch like you!”

Imelda shot onto her feet, still holding her broomstick with one hand. Defensiveness made her yell back, “What upsets me is that you could be a great flier if you had just—”

“I don’t want to practice every day of my life!” Nerida shouted, throwing her hands up. “I don’t care about broom maintenance or which maneuver to do in rain or sunshine! It’s so ridic—”

“Don’t you dare finish that!” Imelda was tempted to slap her, feeling insulted by Nerida talking down about her lifestyle. “We made a pact, Nerida, and—”

“Then I want to break it!”

Imelda felt her anger cease, feeling cold and hollow instead of fiery. She leaned back. “…What?”

Nerida sighed. “I don’t care about Quidditch like you do, Imelda,” she said. She looked at Imelda with a resigned expression. “I don’t want to do the same routine as you. I want to pursue my interest in merpeople!”

Imelda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Nerida didn’t care about Quidditch? Nothing about flying? She gritted her teeth, angry about this…this…betrayal!

“I cannot believe you!” Imelda exploded. “How could you–?!”

“How could you?” Nerida shot back. “You haven’t cared once about my interest in merpeople—”

“Because it’s stupid!” The second Imelda said that, she realized how horrible it was. Nerida reeled back as if Imelda did slap her. She sniffled, tearing up now, and Imelda felt her heart plunge.

“Ner—”

Nerida ran to the dorms, and Imelda was frozen to the ground. Their housemates had witnessed the scene, all stunned by the spectacle. But Imelda couldn't bring herself to care.

She stared blankly at the floor. How did this happen so quickly? Did she…just lose a friend? The only friend she had? What was wrong with her?

“Er…Imelda?” She heard Sebastian eventually say.

“What?” She snapped, not in the mood for Sebastian’s tomfoolery.

He held up his hands as if to portray he didn’t mean any harm. “Just wanted to say that I think Fig was looking for you. He said that he’s waiting for you in his classroom.”

“Oh,” she said, simmering down. She grabbed her polish supplies and quickly put them away before taking everything with her. She walked past the twins and Ominis, ignoring the stares and even whispers from the other students. She hoped that none of the Quidditch team saw that, as she wasn’t sure if they would want her on the team next year after what she did.

Imelda left the Slytherin common room and headed to Professor Fig’s classroom. She was still processing what just happened. She should apologize to Nerida, but she also felt hurt by what Nerida said about Quidditch. The very thing she lived and breathed. Quidditch was everything to her! If Nerida insulted Quidditch, it was like she insulted her. But…didn’t she do the same thing about Nerida and her interest in merpeople?

Imelda shook her head. She would have to worry about that later. For now, she was happy to have something distract her from her falling out.

She soon found herself at Professor Fig’s classroom and tentatively knocked.

“Come in,” Fig replied through the door.

She opened the door and saw Fig was happily talking to a woman around his age. She had auburn hair with a tendril of white, and her bright gray eyes had crow’s feet at the corners. She noticed Imelda come in, and she gave her a kind smile.

“Ah, you must be the illustrious Ms. Reyes!” She said, clasping her hands in front of herself. “I am Miriam, Eleazar’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” Imelda quietly said, getting closer to the two adults. She saw the fond look in Fig’s eyes as he looked at his wife. The two matched in style with their robes having fancy patterns on their clothing and wearing similar scarves.

“I apologize for taking so long, but my research into ancient magic had me travel all over the world,” Miriam explained. “I was diligent, though, after Eleazar wrote to me and told me about your amazing situation.”

Imelda tried to not be impatient and instantly ask for answers, but Miriam chuckled at recognizing the behavior.

“It is extraordinary, what Miriam found,” Fig added with clear excitement. These two were happy to learn and research, but Imelda couldn’t share the enthusiasm. Maybe if the research involved brooms or Quidditch, but she wasn’t lucky.

“What is it?” Imelda asked, doing her best to not be annoyed.

Miriam reached into her robes and pulled out a strange, cylindrical container. Imelda stared at it and walked closer to examine it. “I found this in my endeavor to learn more about ancient magic. It is made with goblin silver, but other than that, I wondered if perhaps you noticed anything.” Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the strange symbol on top. It looked like a spiral flame, but also…

“It’s glowing,” she blurted out. It was the same light blue glow she had seen throughout her childhood.

Both adults’ eyebrows went up at that. They exchanged a look, and then Miriam held out the container to Imelda. Imelda set her broom and supplies down onto a nearby table, then she carefully took the container with both hands.

The glow instantly spread from the flame symbol to the edges, popping open. Inside the blue velvet lining was a single, bronze key.

“A Gringott’s key?” Miriam asked, instantly recognizing the key for bank vaults.

Imelda frowned and was about to reach for the key, but Fig gently stopped her. “We don’t exactly know what the key could be enchanted with.”

Imelda reluctantly handed the container over to Fig, and he started to mutter spells to figure out the enchantments. She just wanted answers and be done with this. If she could harness ancient magic or not, she didn’t particularly care. It wasn’t like some forgotten magic could make her a better flier.

“It’s a Portkey,” Fig eventually said, stunned. Imelda knew what that meant, and she was confused. Why did this ancient magic want to transport her somewhere?

“Then we best be careful,” Miriam said. She looked at Imelda and grinned. “Care to go on an adventure right now?”

Well, exams were over, and it was only late morning. Imelda had hoped to do more flying, but she could do that later, she supposed. Not to mention…she could use a distraction from what happened earlier.

“Sure,” she answered.

Miriam and Fig each put a hand on Imelda’s shoulders, and she took a deep breath before grabbing the key.

When Imelda came to Hogwarts, she only wanted to be the best Quidditch player. Now, she was getting more than she asked for…

Chapter Text

Imelda lifted her head from the Pensieve, scowling at the water. “Now I have to do some sort of scavenger hunt?” She demanded. After dealing with killer statues and everything else in Vault 12, she was not in the mood to do more of this insanity.

“It seems that those two in the memory want to make sure the one that can see ancient magic is trustworthy,” Miriam thoughtfully mused, putting her hand to her chin in thought.

Imelda huffed and crossed her arms. Those two, Rackham and Rookwood… She wished she could talk to them. She didn’t want to go through hoops to learn more about this magic that she apparently could wield. Imelda lifted her wand, eyeing it curiously. Would the tip of it glow like she saw Rackham’s glow in the memory? Would she be able to create pillars and other things like those two wizards did?

All she wanted was to play Quidditch. Why did she have to do more?

Fig hummed as he held the locket that was floating above the Pensieve before they saw the memory. “I imagine this is the next piece to the puzzle, so to speak.” He gestured to Imelda with the locket. “I shall look more into it, and when I find something, I’ll let you know promptly.”

Imelda nearly jumped when Miriam put her hand on Imelda’s back. “And I shall look more into my ancient magic research,” the woman added. She smiled more. “I was onto something, but then I found that container and wanted to bring it to you and my husband as quickly as I could.”

“I am certain we’ll figure this out, Ms. Reyes,” Fig reassured her with a smile of his own. “You needn’t have to shoulder all of this alone.”

Imelda breathed shakily and nodded. She had to admit: she was terrified that there would be far more than she could take from this endeavor. She had just finished her first year at Hogwarts. Surely she didn’t have to do much, right?

~~~

Imelda had gotten back to her dorm after Fig walked her to the Slytherin entrance. It was after curfew, but having a professor escort kept her from getting in trouble.

She put her broom and polish supplies into her trunk, and she turned to Nerida’s bed that was beside hers. The curtains were pulled all around the four-poster bed, and Imelda’s heart panged with regret. Her pride could reason her responses all she wanted, but she knew she was out of line.

She sighed and went to bed, but she couldn’t fall asleep for the longest time. She might have lost her only friend in Hogwarts.

Maybe it was for the best…

Especially since she had a massive secret she couldn’t tell anyone about.

~~~

Imelda’s summer was uneventful. Her family asked her how school was, she told them all about her Quidditch playing (even though she already wrote to them about it) for the most part. She didn’t tell them about the ancient magic as she didn’t seem like it was important to discuss. It wasn’t like they could stop her from looking more into it. They couldn’t watch her every move at Hogwarts. Besides, it wasn’t like the fate of the world was in her hands. It just seemed like these wizards wanted to make sure she wasn’t psychotic when she wielded this magic.

When she returned to Hogwarts, though, there was a note addressed to her that a Slytherin prefect gave her after the feast.

Once she was in her bed with the curtains drawn, she read the note with Lumos on the tip of her wand.

I hope you had a good summer, Ms. Reyes. I had rather quickly figured out the next part from the locket, but I did not wish to ruin your summer. When you see what’s next, you will understand as well.

Come visit me after your first day of classes.

Professor Fig

Imelda sighed and stored the note into her pillowcase. What was with old wizards being vague?

~~~

“Ah, Ms. Reyes!” Fig said with a smile as she came to visit me.

“Hello, Professor Fig,” Imelda replied, idly fiddling with the strap of her school bag. “You said you figured out the locket?”

He chuckled. “Straight to business,” he said. He turned and started walking up the small staircase. “Very well. It’s in my office.”

Imelda followed him up there, and she saw his desk was cleared for the most part, except for a map. “A…map of Hogwarts?” She asked, downright confused.

“You see, there was something inside in the locket,” Fig explained. “An inscription. When I read it aloud, this map appeared.” He chuckled at the sight. “A clever enchantment.” He gestured to the layout. “Now, I assume it leads somewhere…”

Imelda went on her tip-toes and pointed in a specific spot that looked to be surrounded by droplets of some kind. “The Restricted Section of the library!” She looked up and felt a bit of pride at seeing Fig look satisfied. “There are…traces of the magic there,” she added.

“I suspected you would see something,” Fig replied with a smile as if he were praising her. Imelda felt how she felt when her own father expressed his pride in her achievements. “So, during the weekend, we shall go to the library and see where this leads us.”

“Professor,” she spoke up. “I won’t have to do much after that, right?” She just wanted to learn about this ancient magic, and then be done with it.

“Well, you did hear what those wizards said in that memory,” Fig reasoned as he walked around his desk to put his hand on her shoulder. “They were making plenty of precautions. Nonetheless, I am certain we’ll have the answers we’re seeking soon enough.”

“Good,” she said. She wanted to focus primarily on Quidditch and school if she could help it. So the sooner they did all this, the sooner she could go back to putting all of her focus onto what she wanted.

~~~

Imelda could feel the curious stares from the table next to her. She was trying to finish her potions essay, but she couldn’t concentrate when there were two pairs of eyes on her.

She sighed and put down her quill, glaring to her right. Sebastian and Anne instantly went back to their own essays, pretending like they weren’t just caught. Ominis looked to be fighting a smile as he continued his own work.

Imelda saw there was an empty spot at their table, but they didn’t invite her. She looked back at her own table, seeing she was the lone occupant out of four possible ones. She lowered her gaze, knowing why that was.

After she and Nerida fought in the common room, people avoided her. Even the Quidditch team, except for practice and games. Isaac gave her a sympathetic look, but he had a different schedule than her as he was two years older. It wasn’t like he could be around her, not even this weekend. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and third-years and up could go visit.

So, Imelda was alone. She tried to ignore the sadness in her heart at such a thing by telling herself that she didn’t need anyone, but…

Imelda sighed and shook her head, forcing away those thoughts. She had to put up with being alone. She couldn’t do anything about it, and she was better off alone. She blinked, and she realized she felt…tears pricking her eyes.

Don’t you dare cry in the library, she hissed to herself. Why did she have to be so sensitive?! She roughly got out of her chair and went into the corner closest to the restricted section. She leaned her hands against the shelf and took a few deep breaths. She would prefer being outside to relax, but she had work to do, so she would have to make do with the dusty and musty book smell.

“Er, pardon me.”

Imelda lowered her hands and turned around, seeing a sheepish blond Ravenclaw. She thought she recognized him in classes, so she knew he was in her year. What was his name?

“Larson?” She blurted out.

He nodded. “Yeah, erm, excuse me, Reyes, but I need…” He pointed over her shoulder. She looked and then sidestepped, crossing her arms. Larson reached out and pulled the book out, and he gave her a timid smile. “Thank you.”

“I don’t bite,” she muttered with some annoyance, not meeting his eyes.

“Oh.” Imelda couldn’t believe that he actually sounded surprised. “Well…good.” He then awkwardly left and Imelda felt even more disheartened.

Even Ravenclaws didn’t want anything to do with her. Her peers outside of her house didn’t want anything to do with her. She sighed and slid down to sit on the floor. She hugged her knees to herself and buried her head. She wasn’t feeling better.

Defiance quickly replaced her crestfallen thoughts. Why was she letting this get to her so much? Why did she care? They didn’t want anything to do with her? Fine.

She got up from the floor and kept her head held high, put on a brave face like her parents did, and walked back to her spot in the library.

She stopped in her strides when she saw something changed.

Sebastian, Anne, and Ominis were now sitting at her table, sitting in the three other spots.

Imelda frowned as she slowly walked over to the group. “What…is this?”

“We thought you could use some company,” Anne easily said with a small smile.

Imelda eyed her and then Sebastian, who was sitting beside her spot. He gave her a crooked grin, but then she looked up to where Larson was playing wizard’s chess with Garreth. She knew Sebastian and Anne liked playing wizard’s chess. Did Larson talk to them?

She frowned and sat in her chair. “I don’t need any pity,” she said with a defensive barb in her voice.

“Do you know the brewing benefits of lavender?” Ominis lazily asked from his spot diagonal to her.

Imelda blinked. “Er…” She grabbed her essay and quickly read it over. “Yes.”

“I told you she could help,” Ominis said with a pointed tone.

Imelda stared at him, but she didn’t think he pitied her. If anything…maybe he understood that she would “tolerate” them if they helped each other.

“You tell us about the lavender, and I’ll share information about nettles,” Sebastian instantly offered. He grinned mischievously. “I saw you didn’t get that part yet.”

She sighed. “Fine,” she relented.

She wouldn’t admit it to those three, but she was…rather grateful for company. Even if it was short-lived.

When the hour was getting late, Imelda stayed sitting as the three packed up their things.

“You’re not leaving yet?” Anne curiously asked.

“I have…something to do,” she haltingly answered. She was supposed to wait for the library to close, then she was supposed to check out whatever with Fig.

Sebastian snorted. “And you guys thought I was bad at staying in the library all the time.” He tilted his head at Imelda. “Curfew is coming up.”

“I know,” she said. “I won’t be out too late.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Imelda is staying out late, at the risk of being caught and getting—” He faked a gasp, making Anne laugh “—detention?”

Imelda rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to get detention. I’d worry more about yourself, Sebastian.” She threateningly pointed her quill at him. “If you make us lose house points, so help me—”

He winced and instinctively reached up to cover his ear. He remembered when he slept in History of Magic and cost them ten points, and how Imelda-who-wants-Slytherin-to-always-win reacted. “Say no more, Imelda. I got it.”

“Good,” she said with a satisfied smirk.

“Have a good evening, then,” Anne bade before the three of them left the library.

Imelda put away her things, and she noticed someone else had stayed around this late. She frowned and put her bag on her shoulder before going over to the restricted section. The redheaded boy had his back to her as he slowly crept out of the place, holding a tome.

“Weasley?” She asked, crossing her arms.

Garreth jumped and nearly dropped the book, but he desperately caught it again, hugging it to himself. He sighed with relief at seeing it was just her. “You sounded like my aunt for a second,” he said.

Her eyebrows twitched. She sounded like a thirty-or-forty-year-old woman?

She looked at the book he was mostly hiding with his robe sleeves. “What’s that?”

He squinted at her. “For someone that supposedly doesn’t have time for friends, you seem to like making conversation.”

She flushed at being called out, and she cleared her throat. “I was…curious,” she slowly said. Then she wondered… Was whatever she and Fig needed to find just some book in the restricted section? What if the book they needed was the one Garreth had.

“I’m…doing extracurricular potion brewing,” Garreth eloquently put it. He clearly heard such words from his aunt and was using them to his advantage to sound smarter.

Imelda should have known. She remembered their first year and how Garreth perfectly brewed a Wiggenweld potion. In fact, he had a reputation for brewing potions very well. If people said she was a Quidditch prodigy, she wouldn’t be surprised if they called Garreth a potions prodigy.

“What about you?” Garreth asked defensively.

Imelda opened her mouth to say she couldn’t talk about it, but then she heard Fig talking to Scribner. She looked over her shoulder, seeing the two adults converse. She could only hope Fig was very persuasive so they wouldn’t be questioned.

She looked back and saw Garreth was also watching. His green eyes flicked from them to her again, and she could tell he was perplexed.

“Nevermind,” he mumbled before hurriedly slinking away. She frowned as he left her sight, wondering why he was quick to leave.

Then she heard someone approaching behind her, and that answered her question. Which probably meant Garreth got a book from the restricted section that he didn’t want adults to catch him with. She could only imagine what kind of potions Garreth was challenging himself with if they came from the restricted section.

“Ready to see what the library has in store for us?” Fig asked.

Imelda nodded, and they went into the restricted section. She was so used to seeing this area from the outside, that she couldn’t help but marvel at the strange book covers that were stored away. It was like they were enticing her to read them, but she didn’t want to indulge that curiosity. She could be suspended from reading such things, and then she would certainly not be a professional Quidditch player.

When they went down to the next floor of the section, Imelda had to stop. She felt that strange sensation like she did last year, but more…intense. She made a small noise of discomfort as she swayed on her feet.

“Are you alright?” Fig asked with concern.

She took a deep breath. “I had this feeling last year,” she explained. “I…suppose it was the ancient magic I could sense. It’s…stronger now.”

“Then we must be on the right track,” Fig encouraged with a small smile.

As they kept traversing through, Imelda felt more relieved. She would be done with this elaborate scavenger hunt. She preferred straightforward methods, not dancing around to find something on her own. There was a reason she was a Chaser, and not a Seeker.

Surely this search to know more about ancient magic wouldn’t be as elusive as a Golden Snitch.

~~~

Imelda stared at the book with torn pages.

Fig sighed, obviously as disappointed as her. “Well…it appears that these pages are important to—”

“And then there will be another thing to find!” Imelda exploded, throwing her hands up. She wanted to have words with these people from that memory. All four of them! Some words she had heard her grandfather and father utter when they were irate.

She didn’t care about some girl that watched four magical people make a hamlet prosper instead of staying in a drought. She didn’t care about the girl joining Hogwarts as a fifth-year like that man, Rackham. She didn’t bloody care about any of it!

And yet, and yet, all of this was drawing her in because she needed answers. These wizards instead decide to give her more information she doesn’t want while dangling the information she did want out of her reach.

All she wanted was to know why she had this magic that no one had for centuries. Then she would move on, and go back to living and breathing Quidditch. That was her life, and she was not going to change it because four people thought “oh, let’s make an elaborate trail of clues and pensieve memories to really draw the attention of the one we’re looking for”. Nothing could ever go wrong with that plan!

Imelda was getting so frustrated that she felt her eyes were brimming with angry tears. Fig stood in front of her and crouched to be eye-level with her. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she felt…comforted. Like she would if her own mother or father put their hand on her shoulder.

“Ms. Reyes—Imelda,” he calmly said. “I am not the most thrilled about the way this is turning out. Mostly because I do not think any child as young as you should be thrust into what appears to be more burdensome than necessary.”

“But…I want—”

“I know you want answers, and most of all guidance on how to wield this extraordinary magic,” Fig patiently said. “I will investigate this matter of missing pages for us. Once I find a promising lead, I’ll notify you. Just keep up with your schoolwork and play Quidditch, and make some friends.” He gave her a kind smile. “Keep having a childhood, alright?”

She swallowed. “Alright,” she mumbled. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Of course,” he said with a chuckle. He then gave her head a pat, and Imelda was now realizing how much this unlikely partnership was meaning to both of them.

Chapter Text

The end of her second year was approaching, and Imelda was annoyed to her core about this ghost.

Fig kept his word and had managed to connect the missing pages to some dead student named Richard Jackdaw. The more she learned about this insolent teenager, the more she wished he was corporal so she could shake him up. He was brilliant, but also an idiot. How was that possible? Who wooed two girls and then completely forgot about both of them after dying? Because he didn’t realize the impact of his death, Anne Thisbe was in Azkaban, probably innocent. And of course Imelda was irritated about the Headmaster’s distant relative, Apollonia Black, having a hand in the mess.

They were all a mess, and she had to go along with it to find bloody pages a bloody book was missing. Unfortunately, Fig’s wife, Miriam, had fallen sick. So he went to take care of her, and Imelda was to go follow this lead on her own.

She was now following Richard Jackdaw in the Forbidden Forest while flying low on her Night Dancer. She tensed at hearing the chittering of…fangs. Merlin, if those were the giant spiders she had heard about… She really hoped not. She really, really hoped not.

“This is as far as I’ll go,” Jackdaw eventually said, stopping to float by a tree.

“What?” She asked, more on edge thanks to her fear. She stopped to hover in front of him on her broom.

“I hope you understand,” he apologetically replied. “As I do not want to revisit my place of death.”

“You’re going to leave me in this forsaken place?” She demanded, sitting up and putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not even thirteen yet!” What was with these centuries-old people just leaving underaged magical kids on their own?

Jackdaw winced. “I am sorry, Imelda, but I can tell you where you need to go! It isn’t far from here!” Imelda didn’t lessen her glare at him, and he uneasily cleared his throat. “There is a nice pond just up ahead to the left. There is also a bird bath nearby. You just whisper the words ‘Intra Muros’ to the bird bath, and an entrance will magically open.”

Imelda squinted. If she didn’t already live in an enchanted castle for ten months of the year, she wouldn’t believe anything he just said. “Fine,” she finally said. “Intra Muros,” she sounded it out.

“That’s it!” Jackdaw brightly said. “I think it’s Latin.” He put his hands together as if to clap. “Well, best of luck to you, Imelda!” She shook her head and started to fly in the direction he mentioned. “I bid you adieu!” She heard him call out, and then he muttered right after, “…Is that Latin?”

Imelda rolled her eyes and yelled over her shoulder. “That was French!” She groaned and kept flying. “Irresponsible, moronic, no-good, pale spirit,” she grumbled under her breath.

She perked up at seeing a pond, and she instantly steered to fly over the water. She looked around, seeing lacewing flies illuminate the rather tranquil area. It felt like a surreal haven, and she felt her irritation ebb away as she slowly descended to the pond’s shore. Across the pond, she could even see a few stags peacefully lapping up water.

Imelda closed her eyes and took a deep breath, relaxing for a moment. Even though everything involving this ancient magic was becoming more trouble than it was worth, she was willing to lose some resentment as she only found this place because of this ancient magic research.

When she was in a better mood, she went to the bird bath Jackdaw mentioned and whispered, “Intra Muros.” She saw a large earthen wall nearby twist into a spiral circle before slowly opening up, revealing a cave-line entrance.

Imelda sighed and rolled her shoulders back, prepared to finally get those pages.

~~~

Imelda hated this.

She hated this with all of her guts.

Imelda was shaking from the paralyzing fear she barely overcame to deal with so. Many. Spiders. She could have sworn she could still hear the clacks of their large legs, or the clicking of their fangs, or even the shrill screams when she managed to cast Confringo on their freakish bodies. She was shaking so much that had to stagger along instead of flying because she was afraid her mindset would have her not be able to fly properly. She still had a death grip on her broom, not letting go for anything.

Imelda gagged and leaned over the edge of the bridge, vomiting into the chasm below. She groaned and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She wondered if all those spiders came after Jackdaw’s death, or if he had to deal with them. If he had to deal with them, she was going to show him some wrath for not warning her beforehand. He better hope they didn’t come until after his death, or she would make it her personal mission to bring him back so she could kill him herself.

Okay, maybe she was just riding on her scared adrenaline and wanted someone to pay for her being traumatized…

Imelda finally made it to some sort of skeleton that was skewered by strange weapons. She knelt down and saw the pages in the skeleton’s hand. This had to be where Richard Jackdaw perished.

“Alright,” she muttered as she plucked the pages from the hand. “I suppose I feel bad for you now.”

She stiffened as she noticed in the corner of her eyes statues coming to life and coming for her. She gritted her teeth and set down her broom. At least she would have something to get her fury and fear out of her system.

After sending lightning down and obliterating a couple statues and throwing some weapons back at other statues, she had finally gotten rid of all the problems in the room. She panted, feeling drained from using the strange new magic. This ancient magic she was able to use from time to time seemed to play on an instinctive need to survive. As it seemed to become more prevalent when she was fighting and nearly killed.

Imelda grabbed her broomstick in the same hand she had the missing pages, and she kept going forward. She could only hope there was a way out of this death trap.

~~~

She got her wish, apparently, and she was now staring dumbfoundedly at a vast room that had to be underground. It made her think of the Slytherin common room, where it could look dark, but it was full of light in different ways. Everything gave a blue hue, and the strange patterns in the material of pillars told her it was made with ancient magic.

She warily eyed the massive glossy surface that took almost the entire floor. She stepped around the circle, not wanting to step on it in case it was a trap of some sort. She was done with surprises and having to fight.

She looked up and saw there were four enormous portraits, and then they glimmered before revealing different locations.

Imelda groaned and threw her head back in exasperation. Great. More to do.

She saw someone familiar walk into a portrait. To say Rackham was surprised was an understatement.

“My, you’re far younger than I expected,” he mused.

“And you still look as old as you did in the memories,” she shot back.

Rackham’s eyebrows went up at her attitude and then he chuckled. “I suppose I should commend you for making it this far at such a young age.” He clasped his hands in front of himself. “Now, if you have the book, we can get started—”

“Hold on,” she interrupted, holding up a finger while still holding her broom and pages. “Why do I have to do all of this?”

“We must make sure we can trust someone with this secret we Keepers have hidden for centuries,” Rackham easily reasoned.

“I just want to know more about how to properly wield this ancient magic,” Imelda implored. “I don’t want to accidentally bring down lightning when I don’t need to.”

“I can help you learn how to harness the ancient magic we can both see,” Rackham offered. Imelda was satisfied with that. “After you go through trials.”

“Trials?” She cried out, now ticked. She didn’t want to do trials on top of everything!

He nodded, unfazed by her reaction. “Yes, but you first need to get that book, then we can use this Map Chamber.”

Imelda stared at Rackham for a long time. Her first thought was burning his portrait, but he was possibly the only person that could help her deal with this ancient magic she had.

Just go with it. He’ll help you in the end, her mind whispered.

“I’ll get the book,” she growled before turning on her heel and stalking out of the so-called Map Chamber. Once she was out of the room, she darkly added, “Insane coots. Too much time on their hands…”

~~~

After waiting for Fig to return from taking care of his wife, Imelda told him all that happened. He was at first concerned about her safety and then apologized for telling her to go without him. At least one adult here was worried about her.

Then the two of them went to the Map Chamber, and Fig talked to Rackham. Imelda waited with crossed arms and a tapping foot, and she heard Rackham explain that they could do the first of four trials now.

Imelda tried to think if she had any Quidditch practice to do. With the year almost over, there was only the Quidditch Cup, but that was a week from now. She was fine to do a trial, she supposed. If it meant she would get some proper help with her ancient magic.

The glossy surface revealed to be a vast map of the land around Hogwarts, and Rackham explained the first trial was at San Bakar’s tower. Imelda didn’t bother to ask why Rackham’s trial was at another wizard’s tower.

Fig escorted Imelda to the tower, but then Rackham’s portrait there told Imelda that she had to do the rest on her own. Because of bloody course. Imelda was used to doing things on her own, but with something like this, she had to admit she would prefer some company.

Even so, Fig wished her luck and told her he would be waiting at Hogwarts. She followed Rackham’s instructions and found an ancient magic doorway. Thus began her first trial.

~~~

Imelda walked through the next ancient magic doorway, returning to the Map Chamber. She wasn’t sure what to make of that memory she saw. That girl, Isidora, seemed to be dealing with quite the issue about her father. Imelda was mad for Isidora, actually. Why would a father just ignore her existence after the loss of his son? What kind of father did that?!

Those thoughts dwindled as she saw another person come into another portrait. Charles Rookwood.

“Hello,” she cordially greeted.

“Ah, you’re certainly younger than we expected,” Rookwood said.

“So I’ve heard,” she muttered mostly to herself. “Where’s the next trial?” She wanted this done and out of the way.

Rookwood held up a hand. “Now, no need to rush. These trials are not intended to be done in the course of a year. We will wait for a little longer until you do the next one.”

Imelda’s eye twitched. Her mind was full of lines of Spanish cursing, one after another. “If I am here and ready to do the next trial, why not do it?”

“It is to see if you are capable—”

“That shouldn’t depend on the length of time between trials, right?” Imelda snapped. “You’re just showing me memories little by little instead of just telling me about it all. Just giving a straightforward explanation about the dangers of ancient magic would be preferred! Instead of having to wait for the next tidbit of information!”

“Are you not worried about being overwhelmed?” Rookwood calmly asked with an arched eyebrow.

Imelda let out a sardonic laugh. “If I were worried about that, I wouldn’t have gone along with any of this!” She gestured wildly to the Map Chamber around her. “At this point, I just want to go through it all so I can go back to my simple life!”

“Now, Imelda,” Rackham spoke up, “once you know what we share with you, your life will not be simple.”

“Wanna bet?” She asked back with a glare. She pointed to the two men. “You two and the other two spent a while preparing all of this, wanting to put someone like me into some sort of destiny, but it’s still my life! Mi vida! I decide what to do with it, not you!” She let out a sharp breath, growing more irked at seeing the two wizards not looking bothered by her words.

“Your school year is ending anyway,” Rookwood said. “Come back here next year, and we’ll see if you’re ready for the next trial.”

Imelda gritted her teeth so hard, she probably caused her jaw some pain. These two insufferable…

She left the Map Chamber while exclaiming insults in Spanish.

~~~

The first weekend of her third year, she went to the Map Chamber. She barely made it down the stairs when she met Rookwood’s gaze. He shook his head, and she glared back.

So they were going to do it like this? Make her come back again and again, only to send her away?

“When would be a time for me to check again?” She angrily asked, throwing her hands out to the sides.

“Perhaps during your Christmas holidays,” Rookwood suggested.

“You’re just dragging me along for the journey, aren’t you?” She whirled around and started to leave, but she raised her voice so she knew these “Keepers” could still hear her. “I did not go through countless murderous statues and spiders to just be turned away! You wanted to know if I can be trusted? I haven’t burned your portraits, despite the temptation! I’d say that makes me plenty trustworthy!”

She was certain Rackham and Rookwood were shaking their heads at her as she slammed the large doors shut behind her.

~~~

Imelda managed to feel better over the course of a month, having been busy with flying practice and school. She soon forgot all about her anger and impatience with those Keepers, even more when she got on the Quidditch team again. She was able to keep her streak of making it on the team: three-for-three.

After try-outs, Imelda was going past the Slytherin tent when she heard Cordelia. She perked up at hearing her captain, and stayed close, wondering what the now-seventh year had to say.

“Seriously? Reyes again?” That was Yaxley, a Beater that was in the same year as Cordelia.

“She can fly well and scores rather consistently,” Cordelia simply replied.

“She’s also a downright pain in the arse.” Imelda recoiled as if someone slapped her.

“You don’t have to be friends with her,” Cordelia impatiently responded. “Friends aren’t her forte anyway.” Imelda felt cold and hollow to her core. Her own teammates thought this way about her? “But even though she’s a twat, she’s a good Chaser. You cannot deny that. So shut it, and take it like a man.”

Imelda numbly stepped away from the tent. She could hear Yaxley about to say more, and she didn’t want to know what else he would say about her. She walked back to the castle, staring blankly into space.

What did that say about her if her own team didn’t like her? Cordelia only liked her because she brought victory for Slytherins. There was no camaraderie, and Cordelia thought she was a “twat”. Her heart sank as she remembered the way she said it. It was as if it was fact.

Imelda felt defensive. She was a pain because she was passionate about Quidditch! She took the sport seriously, and she knew Yaxley didn’t care as much as she did. And that jab about friends? Well…Imelda already accepted friends weren’t her thing.

“Imelda!”

She looked over her shoulder to see Isaac running to her. He smiled at her as he put his own Night Dancer on his shoulder.

“You did well in try-outs,” he commended.

“Thanks, so did you,” she muttered, looking away.

“What’s wrong?”

Imelda hesitated. Isaac was always a good team player. They worked well as Chasers, even if Malfoy sometimes ruined the synchronization of plays. Not to mention, she still didn’t forget how he vouched for her in the first place.

“Do you think I’m a twat?” She blurted out. Her heart started to pound, nervous for what he would say. If he agreed, she didn’t know what she would do. Out of everyone in the team, she now trusted Isaac the most.

Isaac blinked, perturbed by the question. “I don’t,” he said. And then his eyebrows furrowed with worry. “Did someone call you that?”

“Not to my face,” she mumbled, staring at the ground.

“Hey,” he gently said, and her heart leapt at feeling his hand on her shoulder. She looked up and met his bright green eyes. She felt warmth all over as well as Snitches flying in her stomach when he gave her a small smile. “Don’t pay them any mind. They’re probably just jealous that you’re one of the best fliers and players in Hogwarts.”

Imelda blushed at his words. “You think so?”

“Of course!” He enthusiastically said, his smile growing. “You’re a great player, Imelda, and you might be…” He hesitated before continuing, “prickly, but that’s because you take the game seriously.” Isaac chuckled and patted her shoulder before retracting his hand. “Anyone determined to be a professional Quidditch player should take it seriously. Which you do, and so do I.”

Imelda smiled a bit, feeling far better because of him. “Thank you, Isaac,” she faintly said.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. He gave her a sympathetic look. “There will always be haters, and you’re unfortunately gonna have to live to deal with it.” He nudged her shoulder with his fist, grinning now. “But I know you can take it, Imelda. You’ve got thick skin.”

Imelda nodded and lifted her chin. “That’s right I do.”

He laughed, and her stomach flipped at the sound as she felt entranced by it. He heard someone call his name, and he saw it was his two best mates: Charles MacMillan and William Dale.

“I’ll see you at practice,” Isaac bade before running over to them.

“See you,” she mumbled, her heart still beating fast from their talk. Even though he put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her, it didn’t make her feel like it did when her parents or Professor Fig did it. It still felt nice, but…different. A good different.

~~~

Imelda was at a potions work station with Sebastian on one side and Garreth on the other. They were supposed to make the Antidote to Common Poisons, but Imelda frowned at hearing Garreth mutter something about “unicorn hair”.

“What are you doing, Weasley?” She asked, looking away from her half-finished concoction. “Unicorn hair is not part of the recipe.”

“I’m trying something,” he simply answered. Sebastian perked up at hearing the conversation, obviously intrigued. “Unicorn horn is already in it, so why not unicorn hair as well?”

“Maybe it makes it more powerful,” Sebastian chimed in, and he exchanged grins with Garreth.

“That’s what I was thinking too!” Garreth exclaimed.

Imelda rolled her eyes and went back to her own potion. Garreth was going to experiment? Did he get bored of brewing potions rather perfectly for the past couple years? Either way, she was not going to be a part of it. Her hands were clean from this ordeal.

“There we go!” Garreth declared. “And…wait, what? That’s not—”

Imelda shrieked at suddenly feeling something splash onto her. She had expected it to feel hot as they were in the middle of brewing, but it instead felt cold as ice. She panted and looked at her left arm, seeing it drenched and covered in pale blue sludge. The edges and top of the sludge were white as if it was frosted over.

She slowly looked over at Garreth, and even though he too was covered in the gunk, he seemed nonchalant. Until he made eye contact with her, and his eyes widened at the sight of her seething.

“I-Imelda…” Garreth hesitantly said, his face becoming more white as she kept staring at him.

Sebastian was making faces as he tried his hardest to not laugh.

“Mr. Weasley, you just earned a week’s worth of detention,” Professor Sharp tiredly said. He limped over and started to cast charms to get rid of the mess.

Garreth groaned, and he looked at Imelda again, but she merely glared at him with a face flushed with anger. Now people would talk about her being part of Garreth’s disaster. Just what she needed.

“You kind of look a bit…frosty there, Imelda,” Sebastian teased before snickering. Imelda instantly grabbed his ear and pinched the tip of it, making him yelp. “O-okay! I’m sorry!”

She let go when Sharp started to clean the exploded potion off of her, and she could still feel Garreth’s imploring gaze on her. She ignored him, though, too upset about being humiliated by him.

When class ended, she promptly packed up her things and started leaving.

“Wait, Imelda!” She heard Garreth say, and she picked up her pace. She was also annoyed that he kept referring to her by her first name. They weren’t friends, they weren’t in the same house, there was no need for him to call her “Imelda” instead of “Reyes”.

~~~

Around the Christmas break, Imelda heard whispers of a moniker for her: “Ice Queen”

She could only imagine how they came up with it, and she was now blaming Garreth for it. She didn’t miss the double meaning of such a name, but it was because of his experiment that people thought the frosty disaster fit her.

So she avoided him like dragon pox. She didn’t want to be near him, especially not in Potions, so she was always as far away from him she could be and then leave as soon as possible.

Which was easy to do for the holidays, as she chose to stay in Hogwarts while he went to visit his family.

Or so she heard from Sebastian and Anne. She was just making sure she wouldn’t run into that talent-squanderer for the next two weeks.

Besides, she was going to be busy with the next trial.

She thought so, at least, until she went there.

“We’re conferred with each other, and we decided we should have you wait until your fourth year,” Rackham told her.

Imelda didn’t say anything for a long time. She just stared hard at the two standing perfectly safe in their portraits. She couldn’t reach in and grab them by the ear like she could with her peers.

“Leave me in suspense, why don’t you?” She dryly asked before walking out and making a rather…rude gesture with her hand over her shoulder.

~~~

At the end of her third year, she was practicing Quaffle passes with Isaac and his friend, William. Even though the Slytherins won the Inter-House Quidditch Cup again, William didn’t seem to have hard feelings of them beating his Ravenclaw classmates.

There was a point where Isaac wanted to try a tactic, and William was to be on the opposing side. It required Imelda to hover in wait for Isaac to pass the Quaffle to him. While she at first wanted to suggest a play that didn’t have her practically waiting on the sidelines, she couldn’t bring herself to say it as she saw the excited and hopeful look on Isaac’s face.

So, she did as he asked, and she watched with slight boredom of Isaac and William playing out the tactic. She straightened as she considered something. Was it possible those old cronies were testing her patience? Well, they were certainly, but she wondered if they were waiting for her to be more…mature. If this big secret—or whatever it was—was that monumental, that was probably why the trials would take years, right?

A Quaffle coming for her brought her out of her thoughts. She instinctively caught it and instantly steered away from William. She dove under him and veered to the right, easily scoring through the middle hoop.

“Way to go, Imelda!” Isaac called out with a laugh.

She couldn’t tamp down a grin at his praise. They descended to the ground, and deftly dismounted their brooms. Her heart skipped beats as Isaac put his arm around her shoulders. She thought she caught a whiff of cinnamon.

“You had me worried for a moment, there,” Isaac playfully said. “You looked like you were drifting off like our Divination professor.”

“A…thought just came to me,” she shyly said. She wondered if she could trust Isaac with what she’d been dealing with. Maybe he could advise her on what to do, or maybe she just wanted someone to be let in on this secret.

“Well, you seem to have Quidditch in your blood even if you’re distracted,” Isaac teased with a chuckle as he ruffled her hair. She grumbled, but she couldn’t muster the same anger she would have if Sebastian or any of her other classmates did the same thing.

Imelda ducked and slipped away from Isaac’s arm. “I gotta go…pursue this thought I had,” she apologetically said.

Isaac was mildly curious, she could tell, but he shrugged with a smile. “Alright. See you next year, Imelda!”

“See you next year, Captain,” she slyly added with a smirk.

He barked out a laugh. “That’s not yet confirmed, Imelda. We’ll just have to see next year.”

“You’re obviously the next captain,” she said matter-of-factly, and she was rewarded with another smile. She felt more Snitches fly in her stomach, and she worried she was going to throw up right there on the pitch. “Er, bye!”

She ran off the pitch, groaning to herself at her awkward departure. What was wrong with her?

Imelda didn’t even make it far before she ran into someone, the impact making her stumble back. “Who—?” She started to yell, but then stopped at seeing who it was. “Oh, it’s you.”

“I thought I’d find you flying around,” Garreth said, unfazed by her irritated tone.

“What do you want?” She asked, about to walk around him. “Don’t you have more cauldrons to explode?”

“A-actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She rolled her eyes as she passed him, but then she felt him grab her forearm. She glared at him over her shoulder, but then her anger dissipated at seeing his earnest gaze. “Please don’t leave again. I’ve been trying to talk to you alone for our entire third year.”

Imelda was anxious to talk to those two Keepers and see if her theory was right. She was also not in the mood to talk to Garreth. She was the notorious Ice Queen, and he was the notorious Fire Hazard. A reputation he built for the past year with his constant inane experimenting. At least they mainly exploded on him this time. Still, the two of them with horrible reputations (mostly perceived that way by everyone else) shouldn’t be near each other. What would people say?

“You’ve got a minute,” she firmly told him. In an act of good faith, she turned to face him directly, putting a hand on her hip as she leaned on one leg.

He sighed with relief, a small smile coming onto his freckled face. “I, er…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologize for having my failed experiment blow up on you.” He certainly looked guilty with his sea-green eyes. “I didn’t think it would explode, for one, but I certainly didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire, so to speak.”

Imelda furrowed her eyebrows at him and tilted her head. “Why did you try so hard to apologize to me?”

Garreth blinked. “Well, just because I’m a Gryffindor and you’re a Slytherin, that doesn’t mean we have to be at odds with each other, right?”

Imelda tried to understand him. That was why he wanted to know her first name? That was why he wanted to be friends with her in their first year? To…stick it to traditional stereotypes?

“I’ve…never hated you,” she hesitantly said.

“But you don’t want to be friends,” he said with resignation.

“I told you, I don’t have time for friends. With Quidditch and school and—” She stopped, knowing she couldn’t let Garreth in on her secret. Out of everyone, Garreth certainly wasn’t on her list of people to consider as a confidant.

“There’s more to life than school and Quidditch,” he said with exasperation.

She frowned, and she could see his eyes widen as he realized what he implied. Her heart slightly stung at him saying Quidditch (her everything) was not that important.

“I could say the same about you and your potion making,” she shot back. “If you can even call your catastrophes that.”

He frowned back at her, and she tried to ignore the look of remorse in his eyes.

“Your minute’s up,” she said. Imelda then turned and headed back into the castle.

Garreth didn’t try to stop her.

~~~

“We told you—” Rookwood began.

“I know,” she interrupted as she crossed her arms. “But I think I know why you want to drag this out. You want to make sure I’m ready or whatever else you think is needed of me to do these trials.” Imelda sighed. “So, fine. I’ll wait and try to not insult you every time I come here. Even though I think a more direct route would have been better than some bizarre scavenger hunt.”

Rackham and Rookwood didn’t say anything (as per freaking usual), merely staring at her. She had thought she caught Rackham looking mildly impressed, but she could have been too hopeful.

“I’ll see you two next year,” she muttered before leaving the Map Chamber.

~~~

Sure enough, summer was normal, and she was back in school for fourth year. She rearranged her personal belongings at her bed in the dorm, and she saw with a tiny ache in her heart that Nerida was at the opposite side of the room. They still never talked to each other since their falling out, and Imelda thought it was best at this point to just stay out of her way. Nerida seemed to have shared the same sentiments.

Imelda frowned at noticing someone missing. “Where’s Anne?”

Grace Pinch-Smedly gave her an incredulous look. “Haven’t you heard? Anne’s sick.”

Imelda was completely taken by surprise. “Since when?”

“I don’t know, but didn’t you notice Sebastian and Ominis were not accompanied by her on the train?”

Imelda averted her gaze, trying to remember the train ride. She was mainly focused on using that time to take care of her Night Dancer. She was used to being alone on the train rides, and she was lucky to have found a compartment that no one else sat in. No one joined her, and she hardly paid any attention to people walking by.

There was a scoff, and Imelda looked up to see the blonde shake her head at her. “Unbelievable,” Grace commented with clear disappointment.

Imelda didn’t say anything and went back to rearranging things. That night, though, she couldn’t help but stare at the empty bed with a pang of self-loathing. Someone that should have been in her dorm, and she didn’t even care enough to know right away what happened to Anne…

~~~

As expected, Isaac Cooper as a sixth-year became Quidditch Captain, and she easily made the team during try-outs. Isaac congratulated her with the typical heart-skipping grin.

After doing the try-outs, she then decided to visit the Map Chamber.

“We believe you are ready for the next trial,” Rookwood told her.

“About time!” She said, pumping a fist. She coughed as her exclamation echoed in the room, and she cleared her throat. “So…where is it?”

Rookwood gestured to the enormous map on the floor. “It’s my very own castle. I shall await your arrival at my portrait there.”

Imelda looked down and her eyebrows furrowed. “That’s near Feldcroft…” She only knew where that was because Sebastian and Anne lived there. Not that…she was ever invited to visit…

“I trust you will be able to get there without a problem?”

Imelda nodded. “I’ll talk to Professor Fig, and I should be there soon enough,” she said, already turning and leaving.

“Best of luck, Imelda,” Rookwood cordially called out.

She merely waved in response as she kept walking away.

~~~

Imelda strapped on her arm guards as her mind kept whirling around the trial she did at Rookwood’s castle. Fig had easily taken her there one weekend with Apparition, she found Rookwood’s portrait, and he revealed the trail to the trial after Fig left.

After doing confusing puzzles and fighting statues—including a gigantic one—she came across another memory. Just adding a little more information than before, but not much. Isidora had extracted emotional pain from her father, and the Keepers weren’t thrilled about it. Imelda didn’t know what to make of it.

She sighed at realizing she was caring more about some witch from centuries ago than she should.

Imelda picked up her Night Dancer and left the girls’ changing room, heading for the Slytherin tent for Isaac’s pre-game talk to the team. It was November 9th, and it was the first game of the season: Gryffindor vs Slytherin. She was excited to start the season with a Slytherin victory, and nothing could surprise—

She stopped at seeing Garreth walk out of the boys’ changing room, decked out in the Gryffindor Quidditch uniform. He had on the red and gold jumper that had the giant G. She had seen him around the school halls this year, but…why was she only now realizing he had a growth spurt and had…grown? The sleeves seemed to have hugged his thick arms, and his shoulders looked far more broad than he ever did wearing school robes. He even wore the Quidditch gloves, one of which held his Wild Fire broom, while the other was running through his hair.

He slowed down when he saw her, and he grinned. “Like what you see?” He jokingly asked.

Imelda flushed at being caught, and then she flushed more with indignation. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she snapped. “Your uniform’s inside out.” His eyes widened, and he looked down to check. She smirked and walked away, yelling, “Made you look!”

Imelda didn’t even know Garreth cared enough about Quidditch to play. She thought “there was more to life than just Quidditch”. Imelda huffed to herself. Well, she was not going to let Garreth get to her. She was still going to beat him like he was any other Gryffindor Quidditch player…

The game ended with the Slytherin Seeker, catching the Snitch and giving them the points they needed to win. Imelda landed as Isaac and the Gryffindor captain shook hands for good sportsmanship.

She heard someone sigh as they approached her. She turned and lifted an eyebrow when she saw it was Garreth. He scratched the back of his head. “Good game, Reyes,” he said, holding out his hand.

Imelda didn’t ignore the fact he referred to her by her last name this time. She didn’t know why, but it…sounded odd. It must have been because she was used to him calling her by her first name.

“You too, Weasley,” she replied, shaking his hand. “You seem to be a decent player.”

He grinned, his eyes shining with playfulness. “Well, considering who I’m talking to, that’s high praise.”

“As long as you don’t mess up your talent like you have before,” she bluntly added.

“And what do you mean by that?” He sounded defensive, even frowning a bit.

“You still experiment recklessly,” she easily explained. “You might have a talent in potion brewing, but you seem to take it for granted to entertain your catastrophic trial and errors.”

Garreth scoffed. “You think you have a right to tell me how to do things in my life?”

“I’m just saying that you clearly have what it takes to be a good potion brewer and Quidditch player. I don’t like seeing people waste their potential.”

He stared at her, looking less annoyed and more intrigued. As if he were truly taking her words into consideration. She thought there was something else in his gaze, but then Isaac came over and patted her back. When he jostled her, it was only then that she realized she and Garreth never let go of each other’s hands.

“Well done, my most valuable player!” Isaac said, giving her a bright grin. Imelda smiled back, her heart swelling with pride as her stomach was full of Snitches again. “I think you created a new record this time, scoring a total of twelve times.”

“I had practiced more with my father over the summer,” she said with a shrug. She smirked. “I have even been working on a new maneuver.”

“And I would love to see it,” Isaac eagerly replied. He put his arm around her shoulders again, giving her a side-hug. “In the meantime, though, let’s go celebrate in the Slytherin common room!” Isaac then paid mind to Garreth, who kept looking between the two. Isaac smiled and held out his free hand. “Good game, by the way, Weasley.”

Garreth had a blank expression on his face as he shook Isaac’s hand. “Likewise, Cooper.”

They soon dropped hands, and Isaac looked back at Imelda with excitement. “Now, come on. I heard that someone got plenty of butterbeer for everyone.”

“Sounds good,” Imelda replied, and they started to leave the pitch.

Imelda could have sworn she felt someone staring at her back, but she never checked to see who it was.

~~~

Imelda felt peeved that everyone was now choosing to do schoolwork in the library. Didn’t they have common rooms for a reason? But she supposed she was a hypocrite as she kept trying to find a spot to do her homework. The common room just didn’t do it for her, and she did need books for her essays.

She finally saw a table that was free, but…there was already an occupant at the two-person table. She weighed her options before swallowing her pride and going over to the table.

Garreth looked up with his eyes widening a margin as she came to his table.

“There’s nowhere else for me to sit,” Imelda defensively started. She hesitated before adding, “Are we still not at odds with each other?”

Garreth’s eyebrows twitched as he clearly remembered what conversation she was referring to. He waved to the chair across from him, and she moved it with her foot before sitting down and putting her books onto the table. She took her bag off and pulled out her parchment and writing supplies, preparing to write essays until her wrist was exhausted.

For the first hour, the two of them didn’t say anything, just devoted to their work. Imelda thought in her perception that Garreth had looked up at her numerous times. But he didn’t say anything, so she assumed it was nothing to worry about.

Eventually, she heard him take a deep breath. She stopped writing and looked up at him. Garreth fiddled with his quill, meeting her gaze.

“I…thought about what you said after that match,” he tentatively said. “About my potential.”

Imelda lifted an eyebrow. “You’re still experimenting.” She had personally witnessed his failed attempt at “edurus tea”. That misty disaster made everyone near Garreth’s cauldron have a layer of rock. She had managed to avoid that, but Onai, Prewett, and Oggspire weren’t.

He gave her an annoyed look. “I was going to say that maybe you were right,” he said.

“I am right,” she corrected.

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s say you are.” Garreth frowned a bit and he put a hand to his head. “I was only going to tell you that I want to do more in my life than just successfully brew potions.” He put down his quill and held out his hands as if he were desperate to hold something. “I want to create something that could change the Wizarding World as we know it! I want to do more than easily brew a Wiggenweld or know all the antidotes to common poisons.” He looked at her with hope. “Can’t you understand that?”

Imelda hesitated. She could see what he meant. Quidditch was everything to her, but she had been determined to stand out if she could. Like breaking records or something, if she could. She didn’t think Quidditch playing could “change the world”, but she knew there were new potions being created as they spoke.

“Perhaps,” she admitted. Garreth perked up as if he just won, but she pointed her quill at him. “You still shouldn’t disregard basics and the like. Nor should you always do your own thing when Sharp is teaching us.”

Garreth sighed and shook his head. “I know everything that Sharp has been teaching us anyway. I went through a grand reading phase in our second year. I know all the basics.”

Imelda remembered him leaving the restricted section with a book. She arched an eyebrow at him, willing to challenge his claim. “Is that so?” She asked. She put down her quill and crossed her arms. “If I asked you precisely when to stir anti-clockwise for making a Wiggenweld, could you tell me?”

He stared at her, completely nonplussed. He opened and closed his mouth, and she internally smirked. “Wait, it’s…” He groaned and buried his hands in his hair.

“If you mastered it to the point of muscle memory, you’d know,” she simply pointed out. “You aren’t truly a master of potions if you successfully and perfectly brew a potion only one time.”

Imelda picked up her quill and went back to writing. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Garreth lifting his head.

“That’s not right.”

She sighed, now feeling annoyed. “Look—”

“Not about what you said,” he cut in. He leaned forward, and tapped on the paragraph above what she was writing. “You mixed up the uses of Jewelweed and Shrivelfig.” Imelda looked down at her writing, and then up at him. Garreth met her eyes and grinned a bit. “I may not be a ‘master’, but I am still knowledgeable about Potions.”

She blushed a bit, not always liking it when she was caught being wrong. But…she could live with this. “Er…would you mind helping me with the rest?” She hesitantly offered.

He lit up, probably because it was about his favorite subject. Then his grin became more teasing. “I thought you didn’t have time for friends.”

She rolled her eyes. “This is purely for school. We wouldn’t be friends but…”

“Study buddies?” He playfully offered.

Imelda gave him a half-hearted glare. “I was going to say study partners.”

“The one and the same,” he easily said before standing up and moving his chair in one, smooth motion to be next to hers and sitting down. “Alright, let’s make sure you got the parts about the newt spleen and armadillo bile correct.”

Imelda sighed to herself, but she was glad that it seemed Garreth was fine with this school work arrangement.

The smell of mint lingered on her parchment and robes well after their time writing essays.

~~~

Professor Fig joined Imelda at the end of her fourth year this time. She didn’t want to have to see if the Keepers were ready for the next trial, and then she would have to find Fig, and then bring him to the Map Chamber to show where the trial was, and then go to the trial. She wanted to save time and be more efficient this way.

“Welcome back, Imelda,” Niamh said. “It has been a long time since I saw you last.”

“Hello,” she replied, crossing her arms. “I figured I would just be sent away with you telling me it’s not yet time for the next trial.”

Niamh nodded. “Your intuition would have been correct.” She held up a finger. “I will say that you will certainly begin your trial in your fifth-year, most likely after your first term.”

Imelda frowned. She still didn’t like having to wait so long, especially since the memories were now getting more interesting, but she held her tongue. “Very well,” she said. “Until then.”

Fig walked beside Imelda as they left the Map Chamber. “You seem to be taking this process with more grace.”

Imelda sighed as the doors closed behind them. “It’s not like I can jinx them or berate them. They’re not as fun to intimidate when they’re centuries old and stay in portraits.”

Fig chuckled. “I do commend your patience with them, Imelda.” He gave her a small smile. “I do know that this can be frustrating, but you have certainly grown out of your impatience.”

“I wouldn’t say I have completely grown out of it,” she muttered. “But I have more…manners with them than I did before.”

“That’s good to hear,” he chuckled again. “I shall look forward to when you begin your third trial. Oh, and Miriam had recently written to me. She said that in her pursuit of more knowledge about ancient magic, she told me that she had come across writings about things known as ‘repositories’.”

“Well, that sounds far more interesting than these mundane trials,” Imelda remarked.

She had no idea how foretelling her statement would be.

Chapter Text

Imelda had just put her trunk on the luggage rack in her compartment on the Hogwarts Express when she heard a knock on her window. She frowned and saw it was Sebastian and Ominis.

“What do you two want?” Imelda asked with her hands on her hips as they came in without her even waving them in. She rolled her eyes at them putting their trunks on the rack across from her, but she didn’t turn them away.

Sebastian sighed as he fell back into the booth. “We thought sharing a compartment would be more fun,” he simply reasoned with a small grin.

Imelda lifted an eyebrow, not convinced by his answer. “You want to share a compartment with me?” She dryly asked. “The person that has always berated you when you kept getting detention and making Slytherin lose points?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning back and resting his feet on her booth. She sighed and lightly pushed them aside, and he pulled his feet back.

Ominis simply sat down on the other end of the booth he shared with Sebastian. His wand was blinking that red light at a slow pace, as if it were as somber as its wielder. “We didn’t want to have the same quietness we did last year,” he faintly elaborated.

Imelda’s annoyance faded as she saw Sebastian’s grin go away. He then stared out the window with a blank expression as they waited for the train to start moving. Imelda slowly sat down with her hands on her knees.

Anne hadn’t come back. All of last year, she didn’t try to press for details since she had noticed Sebastian silently shoulder any questions about Anne. Imelda had once lectured Sebastian about being caught in the restricted section. Then he snapped back that he was trying to help Anne. Imelda felt so awful about it that she didn’t bother him, and any time he was caught and put into detention again, she simply shook her head and quietly admonished him. She had never dealt with a sick family member before, and she didn’t even know how hard it had to be for Sebastian since she didn’t have any siblings. But she could tell how hard Anne’s absence was on Sebastian and Ominis.

She hesitated, but she tried to alleviate the guilt of her indifference. “How…is Anne?” She haltingly asked.

Sebastian crossed his arms, still staring out the window. “She’s fine,” he mumbled. “I’m surprised you’re only now asking.”

Imelda didn’t react to the barb of his voice. Ominis frowned a bit, but he didn’t refute Sebastian’s comment. He had to be thinking the same thing. “You’re…right,” she muttered, sitting back. “I should have asked last year.” She cleared her throat. “I hope she feels better soon.”

“It’s not like she would play Quidditch,” Sebastian added.

Now Imelda reacted, and she glared at him. “I wasn’t even thinking about Quidditch. I was just thinking about Anne,” she said, irate.

“Why do you care now?” Sebastian asked back, finally facing her. He looked wary, as if thinking she was messing with him.

“I know I wasn’t really around you three for the past few years, but even I could tell how much she affected the Slytherin House,” she reasoned, feeling weird at how much she had to say about this. She averted her gaze, but she noticed Ominis’s slightly thoughtful expression and Sebastian’s surprised one. “I…had even started to miss her hand in all the chaos you three used to create.”

Sebastian softly chuckled. “She is the biggest troublemaker out of the three of us.”

Imelda noticed the present tense he used, and she saw the fondness in his eyes as he reminisced. “I am sorry about what’s going on with her,” she solemnly told him.

Sebastian stared long and hard at her. He looked like he finally believed her, and he gave her a strained smile. “Thank you.”

Imelda flushed and shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. “You’re welcome,” she replied.

A moment of silence passed before Ominis finally said, “Imelda, would you mind buying some chocolate frogs when the trolley comes? I hope to add new cards to my collection.”

“Fine,” she nonchalantly replied. “Is this some sort of initiation to earn your trust?”

“No, that involves a nice ritual involving Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans,” Sebastian said with jest, making Ominis snort.

Imelda fought a smile as she stood up to get her money pouch…

~~~

After they left the train and rode horseless carriages to the castle, they went to the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast.

“Reyes!”

She looked over her shoulder, perplexed as to why Garreth called out to her. He was still addressing her by just her last name… He ran up to walk on her right with a grin.

“What do you want?” She asked.

“Wow, is that how you greet people?” Garreth curiously asked with a tilt of his head.

“She did greet us like that on the train,” Sebastian pointed out from her left. Imelda gave him an annoyed look, and he chuckled in response.

“Anyway,” Garreth began with amusement and Imelda looked back at him, “I was wondering if the Slytherins got a new captain for the year.” He grinned teasingly. “I need to know exactly how much effort I should put into practice.”

Imelda lightly rolled her eyes. “You should always put in all your effort anyway. And no, I wasn’t appointed Quidditch Captain.”

“Oh.” He actually sounded disappointed. He looked around the group of students walking with them through the halls. “Does…that mean Isaac Cooper is the captain again?”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed. Was it just her or did his voice sound more hollow than it did a second ago? “I’m not sure,” she answered. “Probably, though.”

“Oh,” he said again.

She frowned and looked up at him. “What?”

He shrugged and scratched the back of his head. “I thought you and Isaac were…pen pals, so to speak.”

Imelda looked straight ahead, trying to keep herself from blushing. “No…we’re not.” She never plucked up the courage to ask to write to him over summers. Especially when their last match ended poorly when Malfoy took a Bludger to the head…

Garreth opened his mouth, about to say or ask something, but then they entered the Great Hall. All of the students split up to sit at their House tables, and they patiently waited for the first years to come through.

Imelda sat across from Sebastian and Ominis, and she scowled at seeing them talk in low voices and hiding smiles.

“What?” She asked.

Sebastian grinned at her. “Oh, we were just enthralled by that scene between you and Weasley.”

Imelda shook her head. “He’s just trying to get to me about Quidditch,” she dismissed.

“Oh, he was trying to get to you,” Ominis mused with a sly smile. “I could see the yearning curiosity in his eyes.”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to understand what Ominis could possibly mean by—

She huffed and glared at him, now seeing him struggling to keep a straight face. “You’re blind, you didn’t see anything.”

Ominis snickered and Sebastian chuckled, and she stomped her feet close to the toes of theirs, making them jump and slide their feet back.

“We’re just teasing, Imelda,” Sebastian sheepishly said, holding his hands up.

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine, laugh it up,” she wryly said, waving at them.

“Does Garreth get on your nerves that much?” Ominis asked, this time sounding serious.

Imelda sighed and put her hand to her head. “No,” she said. “I just have something on my mind.”

Sebastian perked up, naturally curious. “What’s that?”

“None of your business,” she answered without any bite in her words. The first years started to walk into the Great Hall, and Imelda drifted off into her thoughts.

Coming back to Hogwarts just reminded her that she was back to waiting for those Keepers to give her more trials. She still didn’t care as much as they probably wanted her to, but she had to admit that those memories… She had started to feel like they were almost a warning for her. She supposedly had the same abilities as this Isidora did. She didn’t have an unresponsive, horrible father, though. She didn’t have a reason to want to take away “pain”, something that Imelda still didn’t think was possible.

Were the Keepers worried she would do something irresponsible with ancient magic? What were they going to do to stop her if she did? They were all dead and helpless as portraits. She supposed they just hoped she would take these memories as a warning of what she could become.

The Sorting was now over, and everyone began to eat. Imelda continued her train of thought as she ate a small meal of beef roast and pumpkin juice. She wondered if the Keepers already thought she was capable of being like Isidora. The idea bothered her more than she would like to admit. The Keepers could be assuming who she was just like everyone else did. Ice Queen, she bitterly thought, lightly drumming her fingers. Maybe she really was what people called her behind her back…

“Oh, and one more thing,” Headmaster Black loudly announced when almost everyone was done eating. “Due to the unfortunate injury on the pitch in last spring’s final, this year’s Quidditch season has been cancelled.”

“WHAT?” Imelda shouted, standing up while slamming her hands on the table. Everyone nearby, including Sebastian and Ominis, leaned away from her.

“Settle down, Ms. Reyes,” Black tiredly said. He frowned as there were more murmurs and chatters of disappointment from all four tables of students. “Enough! It’s not as though I have banned flying altogether. But—don’t tempt me…”

Imelda glared at Black, her fingernails already digging into the wood. Sebastian stared at the indentations.

“Does she look like she is going to kill the Headmaster?” Ominis whispered to Sebastian.

“Maybe not kill, but…maim,” Sebastian whispered back.

“I would pay my weight in Galleons to see that.”

Imelda harshly sat back down, fuming as she kept glaring daggers at Black. She was too upset to hear Black come up with whatever ridiculous reason to cancel Quidditch. She felt numb inside as well, feeling like someone ripped something away from her. Quidditch was her life, her everything, and Black took it away just like that?

“I said, I’m sure you all have plenty to do before classes begin tomorrow!” Black insisted, gesturing to the students.

Imelda was one of the first Slytherins to get up, and she took big strides as she stormed out of the Great Hall. She growled in Spanish all kinds of obscenities with Black being the target of her wrath. Malfoy was knocked out for only a week! Madam Blainey healed him fine! It wasn’t like Malfoy died! Black could take his pureblood favoritism and shove it up his—

She was at the Slytherin entrance and she realized she didn’t know the new password.

“…Pura Anguis?” She tried the last password for the previous term.

The stone wall didn’t change at all, and she groaned, throwing her hands up.

“Hey, Imelda.”

She stiffened at hearing Isaac Cooper, feeling more embarrassed. Isaac gave her a kind smile as he walked up to her with his hands stuffed in his robe pockets. His mussed black hair had gotten longer, and his Slytherin robes made his green eyes stand out more.

“I figured you would be here, so I thought I’d try to save you from having to wait for the prefects and our housemates.”

“I was just peeved, and I forgot about that wonderful first-day protocol,” Imelda muttered, looking away as her face burned from humiliation. She felt like such a fool, and in front of Isaac, too!

He merely chuckled. “Don’t worry. I know the prefects and even our Head Boy and Girl,” he said. “They all got to know the password beforehand, and they let me know as well.” He turned to the entrance and cleared his throat. “Smaragdus anguis.”

The snake revealed itself at the floor and arched up, showing the entrance. Imelda let out a small scoff as they walked in. “Emerald snake?” She asked. How could they be so predictable, even if it’s in Latin?

“We Slytherins do love green. And snakes,” Isaac jokingly replied, making her chuckle.

She heard the entrance close behind them, but she knew it would open soon enough with the rest of the Slytherins coming in. She closed her hands into tight fists as her stomach was once again full of flittering Snitches. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten that piece of mint chocolate cake…

“…Thank you,” she said in a mumble.

“No problem,” he easily replied with a wave of his hand. Isaac smiled more, and her stomach felt like it was churning from all of the nerves. “I’m sorry that Quidditch got canceled.”

Imelda huffed, anger instantly burning away her nerves. “That imprudent Headmaster,” she darkly muttered.

“I know. I thought something was wrong when I didn’t get appointed Quidditch Captain again over the summer.” Isaac shook his head, just as outraged by Imelda, even if he didn’t show it as much as she did.

“It’s been all I’ve ever done,” Imelda said as they were by the sofa next to the fireplace. She leaned her hands on the top of the sofa. “Now that it’s gone…” She didn’t know what she would do. Quidditch was her way of life, and it took up most of every day of her life. She felt helpless, and she hated it.

“Well, Black didn’t ban flying altogether,” Isaac said. There was a second of silence, and then he added, “Wait…he didn’t ban flying.”

“So I can at least practice flying maneuvers,” Imelda distractedly replied.

“Or, we can try something else,” Isaac offered. She turned to him, and she saw how excited he was by his idea. “Albie Weekes, the owner of that Quidditch store in Hogsmeade, had written to me about a month ago. He wants experienced fliers to test out improvements to brooms.”

Imelda straightened, feeling far more intrigued by where this was going. “What kind of testing did he have in mind?”

“The aerodynamics of brooms, especially at high speed.” Isaac grinned. “We could try to create courses to test the speed of brooms!”

“And make time trials!” Imelda smiled a bit at the idea. She thought she was agile enough on the Night Dancer, but she wouldn’t mind going faster if she could handle it. And she could, she was certain.

“Exactly!” Isaac said, and they smiled at each other with content.

A moment passed, and Imelda stared up at him. She felt so exhilarated, and she wondered if Isaac felt the same or…

The entrance opened, and everyone started to file in, filling the common room with chatter. Imelda blushed slightly and cleared her throat. “I’m…going to turn in,” she faintly said.

Isaac nodded, and he grinned as he reached up, ruffling her hair. “Have a good night, Imelda. I’ll see about arranging those time trials.”

“I’ll see Albie Weekes as soon as I can,” she promised with her face still pink. “Good night.”

She left for the girls’ dorms, and she heard Isaac loudly welcome the first years to the common room. She looked over her shoulder, watching him talk animatedly with a big smile on his face. The first years seemed to love how well a seventh year was welcoming them, and Imelda smiled to herself as she kept heading to the dorms. Everyone seemed to like Isaac Cooper, and for good reason, too.

~~~

Imelda felt more determined on her first day of classes. She had intended on visiting Hogsmeade and seeing Albie Weekes. First to see about these broom improvements, and then to see if there was better gear. She was wearing out her gloves and arm guards…

Charms was somewhat amusing as it was mainly a refresher on the Summoning Charm, and of course Professor Ronen had them play a game as a refresher. Ronen always added fun to his classes, something that always surprised Imelda when she remembered he was the Head of their house.

Then Defence Against the Dark Arts started with excitement. Imelda had rolled her eyes when Prewett demanded a rematch with Sebastian, the Gryffindor having held a grudge from his loss in Crossed Wands, apparently. And as expected, Sebastian was eager to have any excuse to duel. It at least didn’t end as a disaster since Professor Hecat intervened.

“Aw, what a shame, I was betting for someone to have gone to the hospital wing.”

Imelda looked behind her to where Garreth was sitting next to Larson. Garreth rested his chin on his hand, lazily smiling with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Larson lightly rolled his eyes. “You do realize that if Hecat didn’t stop that skull from falling, your own Gryffindor friend would have gotten hurt?”

Garreth shrugged. “Well, Leander was kind of asking for it, duelling here of all places.” He chuckled and leaned back with his hands behind his head. “Leander may be my best friend, but…Sebastian is a better dueller.”

Imelda turned in her chair to face the two boys better. “Doesn’t Sebastian play wizard’s chess with you two as well? I thought he was close to you.”

Garreth’s eyes gleamed, and he instantly leaned forward with a small grin. “Have you been paying more attention to me?” He teasingly asked.

Imelda gave Garreth an unamused look. “I have been paying attention,” she said, leaning closer. Andrew moved a little back, glancing between the two. Imelda stared right into Garreth’s eyes, the sea green looking a little darker than usual. She nearly let herself get distracted by that detail, but she focused on returning the teasing favor. “Because you and Sebastian together unsupervised would lead to Hogwarts going up in flames,” she added.

Garreth sat back as Andrew chuckled. “She’s got a point, Garreth,” the Ravenclaw said.

“Please. I’m completely responsible,” Garreth defended himself. “I can’t speak for Sebastian, though.”

Imelda shook her head. “It’s for the better that the two of you were not sorted into the same house.”

Hecat called for everyone’s attention now that she was done lecturing Sebastian and Prewett. Imelda turned back to face the front of the classroom. She didn’t see Andrew give Garreth a pointed look, to which the Gryffindor responded by smacking his friend’s arm with the back of his hand.

~~~

“Where are you going?” Sebastian asked as he caught up to Imelda.

She frowned at him as they walked out of the Bell Tower doors to the Hogwarts Grounds. Even though Floo Flames would get her there faster, she didn’t want to be a sooty mess. “I’m going to Hogsmeade. Why are you following me?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Curiosity got the better of me. Since you didn’t go right to our common room to get your broom for flying.”

Imelda huffed. “I’m that predictable, huh?” She didn’t like being predictable, but she supposed her routine really didn’t change for the last four years.

“Which is why today made me curious about what you’re up to,” Sebastian reasoned. “And, I was also intending to go to Hogsmeade!” He grinned. “What do you say we go together?”

Imelda eyed him. She knew just this morning, he was reading a book that she strongly believed came from the restricted section. She didn’t know how he already snuck into the library to do so, but she was not going to find out. She was going to try to keep away from knowing more about Sebastian’s rule-breaking. The less she knew, the better.

“Are you intending to actually buy something?” She dryly asked.

“Of course,” he answered, a bit miffed. “I wanted to get something for Anne.”

Well, that instantly made her suspicions shrivel up like a dying flower. She felt guilt drop in her stomach like a stone. “Er, alright,” she awkwardly said. “I’m mainly just checking out Spintwitches Sporting Needs, so it won’t be a long errand.”

“And I don’t intend to take a while either.” Sebastian smirked. “We make quite the efficient team, eh? How come we never worked together in the past?”

“How come you’re acting like we’re friends now?” Imelda asked back.

He shrugged. “I guess you made a better impression on me when you didn’t keep Ominis and I out of your train compartment,” he said.

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not…” She was going to feel stupid for even thinking this. “You’re not trying to…replace—?”

“No!” Sebastian cried out, aghast. “Merlin, no!” He sighed. “Look, after these past couple years, I thought that…maybe we should have tried to get along better.”

Imelda wondered if Anne’s condition made him worry he took other housemates for granted. She admittedly had thought the same when she was nearly dying to statues and other ancient magic trial ridiculousness. Reminders of mortality just made you rethink things, she supposed.

“I guess we could try,” she mumbled. “As long as you don’t do something that would warrant me to smack you upside the head.”

“I shall be an honorable gentleman,” Sebastian vowed.

Imelda snorted, already thinking he was going to break that promise.

Chapter Text

Imelda and Sebastian went different ways once they made it to Hogsmeade. They agreed to meet back at the southern entrance.

Imelda was quick in the Spintwitches Sporting Goods shop, making small conversation with Albie Weekes and discussing what data he specifically wanted. After making a promise to see him again after the time trials are made, Imelda bought herself new Quidditch gloves and arm guards before leaving.

Imelda didn’t want to just wait around the southern entrance for Sebastian, so she wandered around until she came across Honeydukes. It had been a while since she treated herself to some sweets (she didn’t count the chocolate frogs from the train), so she went inside.

She procured a couple licorice wands and paid for them. She stepped out of line, and she sighed at spotting someone.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she remarked.

Garreth looked at her with surprise from his spot third in line. There was ash in his red hair, so that answered the question of how he got to Hogsmeade. “Fancy seeing you here,” he greeted.

“How come I keep running into you?” She asked, putting a hand on her hip.

He chuckled. “Technically, this is the only time we’ve run into each other. I went to you before the Welcoming Feast, and then we had a nice conversation in class.” He shrugged as he moved up in line. “I was simply hankering for sweets like you.”

Imelda looked at the bright yellow sugar quills in his hands. This looked perfectly innocent. And she knew something had to be going on. “You’re here for something else, aren’t you?”

He turned to her with an astounded laugh. “What gave you that idea?”

“There’s no way you’re only in Hogsmeade for sugar quills,” she said, crossing her arms.

He lifted an eyebrow at her before he moved up again. “You think you know me? Even though the most we’ve ever done was homework throughout last year?”

“I’m familiar with your tendencies,” she amended. “If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you have as much of a focus on potions as I do about Quidditch.”

Garreth snorted. He was now at the counter and coughed up the few Sickles to pay. “I’ll humor you, because I’m in a fun mood today,” he said. He briefly thanked the merchant before taking his paper bag and approaching Imelda. “Yes, I did also have in mind getting myself some potion ingredients.”

Imelda smirked to herself, satisfied that she was right about her instincts. They started to walk to the exit. “What’s stopping you from going to Pippin’s, then?”

Garreth stifled a laugh as he held the door open for her. She mumbled a “thanks” as she walked out, and he followed behind her. “He only has the typical ones students need in case they forgot to buy them in Diagon Alley. No, I had in mind more…rare ingredients.”

“Oh no, what are you trying to make now?” She dryly asked as they made it to the square.

“I take offense in that is how you decide to ask,” he remarked.

“It’s another one of your experiments, right?” Imelda asked, turning to him. “What are you trying to make?”

Garreth sighed. “You certainly know how to make me want to share more with you,” he wryly commented. He shrugged. “But, you’ll probably know anyway. I’m trying to make a fizzy butterbeer.”

Imelda stared at him, and he stared back with a content look on his face. “…why?” She eventually asked.

“Butterbeer is great, but I think some fizz would be a nice improvement,” he easily explained with a small smile. “Which reminds me…” He stashed his sugar quills into his robes and took out a flask, grinning. “I’ll have to go to the Three Broomsticks later for some butterbeer.”

Imelda shook her head, and then she frowned at feeling the ground rumbling. What in the world? Not only that, but…she felt like she could sense something. She felt a sensation similar to the one she felt in the library or during trials, but this felt…worse.

“I don’t suppose… I mean, if you’re also wanting Butterbeer, I could pay for yours,” she barely heard Garreth offer, but she didn’t put merit in his words.

She instead shushed him. “Don’t you feel that?” She asked.

“Feel wha—?” He stopped as he too felt the ground shaking. He put away his flask and frowned. “What in Merlin’s—”

A troll suddenly ran in from the north side, and Imelda and Garreth started to slowly back away. Imelda then noticed something about the troll as it got closer and tried to slam its club down at a couple people. The troll was wearing armor, and it…glowed. Not the bright blue like ancient magic, but it was red. That same metal the armor was made of was also on its club, reinforcing the damage, most likely.

The troll turned to Imelda and Garreth, and she instinctively took out her wand with Garreth doing the same.

“Bombarda!” Someone shouted before the troll could get any closer. The troll turned around again, and the one that sent the spell was a woman in dark blue clothing with a top hat. “Draw it away from the buildings! Away from the village!”

The wizard and witch beside her started to run down a path, sending Basic Casts and other spells at the troll to make it follow the three of them.

Garreth let out an incredulous sigh. “How did a troll get here?” He asked.

“I have no idea,” she muttered. Her eyebrows furrowed. What was with that glow? Why did it feel familiar to her, even though it’s not ancient magic?

“Hey!” Imelda saw Sebastian running up to them, his wand already in his hand too. “I saw the troll, but I didn’t think you’d be anywhere near the excitement,” he said to Imelda. He noticed Garreth and grinned. “Oh, hey, Weasley.”

“Sallow,” Garreth greeted back with a similar grin. “I think you still owe me a match in wizard’s chess.”

“Aw, come now. You’re just upset because the hourglass ran out on you.”

“I still think you casted the Slowing Charm when it was your turn,” Garreth accused with obvious jest.

Imelda rolled her eyes at the camaraderie, and she was about to change the subject back to the concerning matter when a second troll crashed through a hopefully-empty shop. It had the same glowing armor as the first one, and it was coming for them.

“Are you serious?” She asked, now irate.

There were no other wizards or witches around the area, and it raised its club, about to swing down on them.

“Move!” Sebastian yelled, already tumbling away.

Imelda was about to, but then she grunted when someone tackled her. They rolled across the cobbled street, and the ground they were just standing on quaked. She stared up at Garreth, who had now pushed himself up to hover over her.

“What are you doing?” Imelda asked, her voice rising from adrenaline.

“Sorry, er, instinct, I guess,” he bumbled. “Just trying to make sure you didn’t get squashed.”

Imelda looked past Garreth’s shoulder, seeing the troll about to try again with its club. She hurriedly grabbed his shoulders, and roughly made them roll over again. She yelped as she couldn’t hold herself up and fell right on Garreth’s chest. She wasn’t sure if her face was burning from the adrenaline rush or the close proximity of a boy.

“Confringo!” They heard Sebastian yell. “Both of you get up before you become jelly on the street!”

Imelda scrambled off of Garreth, and he rolled to stand up. They got their wands out, and they saw the troll was now focused on Sebastian.

“Glacius!” She barked, and the back of the troll turned white with frost.

“Diffindo!” Garreth shouted beside her, and the ice shattered without too much of an impact on the troll’s flesh. “Well, it’s disappointing that it wasn’t effective.”

“We at least drew its attention away,” Imelda grumbled as the troll turned to them and roared. It started to wildly swing its club around. She looked around for anything to work against this thing. She spotted large stones from the rubble, and she felt her magic thrum.

Garreth was about to cast a Shield Charm as the club was getting closer to them when a stone pelted the troll in the face. Imelda lifted another big rock and harshly swung it at the troll.

“How are you doing that?” Garreth asked with shock.

“Do you want to ask questions or work on having this drop dead?” Imelda asked back.

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop!” Sebastian shouted as he sent another blast of Confringo at the troll’s head.

Between the three of them, they were whittling it down. Imelda kept using her ancient magic to throw more rocks and rubble at it. She was also annoyed that no one else was helping three teenagers fight a blooming troll, but that wasn’t as important as trying to stay alive.

The magic in her blood suddenly pulsed, and she saw the tip of her wand glow a bright blue-white. She had used enough of her ancient magic that she knew she had conjured enough of it to make the finishing blow.

“Bloody finally,” she muttered. She concentrated and built up her magic, watching streams of blue magic go from her hand to her wand. She then pointed her wand right at the troll, and it stumbled back before vaporizing before their eyes. She panted, feeling like she used half of her energy on that.

Sebastian and Garreth stood there, staring at right where the troll was a second ago. All that was left was the club, and Imelda was disappointed. She was hoping the armor would have survived so she could have had a closer look. She should have focused on that lightning strike she could do…

“How…?” Garreth started, looking at Imelda with an astonished expression.

“What he said,” Sebastian added, glancing between the spot the troll stood and her. He looked just as stupefied as Garreth.

Imelda sighed and lowered her wand, moving to pick up her bag of licorice wands she dropped. She should have known that Garreth and Sebastian would ask questions, but she just wanted the fight to be done and over with.

Garreth and Sebastian walked up to her, and she could tell they were going to bombard her with questions. Her saving grace came in the form of that woman wearing dark blue clothing and a top hat.

“Goodness! A second troll?” The woman asked with amazed shock. Her eyes flicked to Sebastian, then Garreth, and then Imelda. “Did you three just take down a fully-grown troll by yourselves?”

“Yes, it would have been nice to have some help,” Imelda remarked as she crossed her arms, looking around at the adults that were now coming out of hiding. Wizards that could have helped, but didn’t for some reason.

“It was all a blur, really,” Garreth hastily added.

“Well, are you three alright?” The woman asked.

“We are,” Sebastian spoke up as Imelda was holding her tongue from badmouthing more adults that didn’t do anything. “We’re glad to be of help.”

“I’d say ‘help’ is an understatement,” the woman commended. “The nerve of you three—it’s the makings of Aurors, if you ask me.”

Garreth chuckled and held up a hand. “No, thank you,” he protested. “I’ll stick to potions.”

“And I am content with Quidditch,” Imelda bitterly added.

“I see,” the woman said. “If you wouldn’t mind, perhaps you could help us put things back to the way they were?”

“Certainly,” Sebastian replied as he trailed off, looking at her expectantly.

“Officer Singer,” she introduced herself.

Imelda could at least not be mad at this Auror, as she helped get rid of one troll. She started to cast Reparo with the rest of the people, as she was responsible for some of the wreckage. Only because she used the rubble as a weapon against the troll.

When everything was back in shipshape, Imelda left the square. She refrained from sighing as she heard two sets of hurried footsteps.

“So what was that?” Garreth asked on her left.

“And how come you’re suddenly a formidable fighter despite not being part of Crossed Wands?” Sebastian added on her right.

She stuffed her bag of sweets in her robe’s inside pocket and put away her wand too. “Both of you are bold to ask questions when you’re in range for ear pinching.”

Garreth and Sebastian instantly covered their ears, and Imelda stifled a laugh at their reactions.

“No, but seriously, how?” Garreth solemnly asked.

Imelda hesitated, and she could feel Sebastian’s curious gaze burning in the side of her head. Did she really trust either of them to tell them about this? She hadn’t ever thought she would come to a point of confiding in either of them. Honestly, she found herself confiding in Ominis before Chaos 1 and 2.

“This isn’t the—” She stopped, a flicker of movement to her left drawing her attention. She and Garreth looked down the street, seeing a top hat leave their sight as the wearer went down stairs.

Curiosity got the best of all three of them, and they crept closer, barely hiding behind the corner of the building. Imelda crouched, Sebastian bent over her, and Garreth was leaning over from behind both of them.

Down the alley, they saw the wizard in a top hat, and there was another man in a bowler hat leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. What perplexed them was the goblin that was there as well. The goblin wore strange robes with armor on its shoulders. It looked like the same metal as the armor the troll had on…

“You said you could get the little witch when she came to Hogsmeade,” the goblin growled. “That all you needed was a distraction.” The goblin bared its pointy teeth at the top-hat wizard. “I gave you a distraction.”

“I just watched your ‘distraction’ get vaporized by that witch,” the wizard impatiently said back.

The goblin barely reacted, but they saw the flicker of surprise in his beady, red eyes before they hardened.

“Who is this witch?” The wizard warily asked. “What are you not telling me?”

“All you need to know is that if you cannot get to the child, then you have no value to me,” the goblin snarled. His eyes then flicked over to them, and the three of them instantly leaned back. It was probably too late to not be spotted, though.

Imelda’s mind was whirling. Why did wizards and a goblin want her? Why did the goblin especially want her?

She jolted when Sebastian put his hand on her shoulder.

“We need to go before they come after us,” Sebastian said in a hushed tone, already on guard.

“The Three Broomsticks,” Garreth instantly suggested with a clenched jaw as he looked around them.

Imelda had to admit it: when Garreth wasn’t an idiot that haphazardly experimented, he was brilliant from time to time. The Three Broomsticks would have plenty of people, so there wasn’t as much of a chance of them being ambushed. At the very least, there were numerous witnesses.

“Let’s go,” she quietly said, and they hustled their way to the establishment.

“What is Ranrok doing with Rookwood?” Sebastian asked, his eyebrows furrowing with thought.

“That’s Ranrok?” Garreth asked, his eyes widened with surprise.

“You two know who they were?” Imelda piped up. Both of them looked at her, equally shocked.

“Do you not read the Prophet?” Sebastian incredulously asked her.

Imelda frowned, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. She averted her gaze as they kept speed-walking. “I…usually don’t until it’s about Quidditch.”

Garreth stifled a laugh and Sebastian sighed. “You really do have a one-track mind,” her housemate commented. She retaliated by hitting his side with the back of her hand.

A crawling feeling in her spine told her someone was watching them, and she discreetly checked over her shoulder. Her stomach flipped at seeing the two wizards.

“Quickly, inside,” Garreth urged, his arm going around Imelda’s shoulders and guiding her toward the Three Broomsticks entrance. As strange as Garreth’s instincts were, she…didn’t mind how safe he was trying to make her feel.

They burst into the place, and then Sebastian sheepishly closed the doors behind them when their abrupt entrance made people look up at them.

Imelda noticed the barkeep, Sirona, talking to a goblin. They said farewell, and as the goblin (she thought she heard him be called “Lodgok”) walked past them, she briefly made eye contact with him. They shared a look of wary curiosity before Imelda walked over to the bar counter. She sat down, and Garreth was on her left while Sebastian sat on her right. Imelda nearly wanted to laugh. An Ice Queen, a Fire Hazard, and a Frequent Detention Attendant walked into the Three Broomsticks together…

“Ah, welcome,” Sirona greeted, putting her hands on the counter. She tilted her head. “Were you three not the ones that took on a troll?”

Was everyone going to keep bringing that up? Imelda really hoped not.

“Yes,” Garreth answered for them. He slipped on a grin. “Does that by any chance mean free butterbeer?”

Sirona chuckled. “This one time, Weasley.” She waved her wand, and three tankards floated over to the keg barrel of butterbeer. They started to fill up, and she added, “The news of the attack spread like wildfire. I shall check on the other shop owners and merchants soon enough, but…” She quickly looked over all of them. “I’m glad you three escaped injury.”

“Thanks to Imelda,” Sebastian said with a grin as he clapped his hand on her back. She didn’t react, only crossing her arms and resting them on the counter as she stared at the table surface. “She did most of the work!”

“She had practically single-handedly taken down the troll,” Garreth added with as much praise.

Imelda frowned and glanced at the two of them, and their excitement dwindled a bit. She didn’t want this to be known as much as it had already. How could she have been so stupid to think her using ancient magic wouldn’t have any consequence? Now all of Hogsmeade would know, and then everyone in Hogwarts would. Not to mention that goblin Ranrok and Rook—

She stiffened, only now realizing the name was the same as one of those infuriating Keepers. Why was a descendant of Charles Rookwood after her, then?

“Well done, Imelda,” Sirona gently commended as if she thought Imelda was unresponsive because she was shy. “Still…trolls in Hogsmeade? That’s never happened before.”

“There’s a first for everything,” Garreth muttered as their tankards of foamy butterbeer slid to be in front of each of them. “Thanks, Sirona!”

“My pleasure,” she replied.

Imelda grabbed the tankard and chugged half of the sweet drink. Even though firewhisky would probably “take the edge off”, she would have to make do with butterbeer. She heard Garreth already bargain with Sirona to fill his flask with butterbeer as well, and she shook her head, remembering his new experiment.

She kept drinking more, feeling her energy was coming back, and then the doors burst open again. Imelda inhaled sharply, nearly choking when she saw it was Top-Hat Rookwood and Bowler Hat Man. Sebastian and Garreth noticed as well, and they were on edge like her.

“How timely,” Sirona dryly muttered before leaving the bar counter and going to the two of them.

Rookwood stopped his swaggering as he regarded Sirona. “Was that Lodgok I saw leaving just now?” He mused in fake-thoughtfulness. He chuckled as he looked at her with disappointment. “Your clientele’s not what it used to be, Sirona.”

“Not to worry, Victor,” Sirona politely replied with a tight voice. “Once the two of you leave, the calibre of my clientele will vastly improve.” Bowler Hat Man reached for his back pocket where his wand was. Victor reached out with his hand to stay his right hand man. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Theophilus,” Sirona added.

What kind of name is Theophilus? Imelda thought for a second.

“Come now, no need for theatrics,” Victor said with an attempt at a charming smile. “I’m only here for this one, anyway.”

Imelda felt her blood run cold as she saw in the corner of her eye that Victor was pointing at her. She forced herself to not react on the outside just how terrifying this was for her. The trials and everything else didn’t faze her like this did, but she wasn’t going to give this man the satisfaction of knowing he intimidated her.

Garreth and Sebastian turned to him with glares, and Imelda noticed Garreth had moved enough on his stool to hide her from Victor’s sight.

“My friend is enjoying a well-earning butterbeer,” Sirona easily said, stepping as well to be in front of the three of them.

Victor dismissively waved and took a couple steps toward them with his eyes fixated on Imelda. “I just want a quick word,” he said.

Garreth was the first out of his seat with his wand out by the time Imelda and Sebastian got up. Garreth was almost the same height as Victor, and he glared threateningly at Victor as Imelda and Sebastian stood close by with their wands pointed at Victor too. Theophilus whipped his wand out as well, but so did other patrons.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me,” Sirona calmly but firmly insisted. “I said my friend is busy.”

Victor’s hardened gaze moved from Garreth to Imelda, and then to the rest of the people that were ready to cast spells. “One would think you’d all had enough bloodshed for one day,” he remarked. Imelda kept her wand pointed at him, not trusting his cordiality for one second. He scoffed and turned to Theophilus. “Come, Theophilus. The Three Broomsticks isn’t what it used to be. Let’s take our Galleons elsewhere.” As he backed away, he met Imelda’s eyes, and she kept a blank expression as he mockingly bowed with his arms out. “Can’t drink butterbeer forever…”

With that, he and Theophilus left the Three Broomsticks, the entire place quiet with tension. Sirona watched the door for a few seconds, and then she turned to the three of them.

“Seems like you made an unfortunate enemy,” she told Imelda with sympathy.

“It’s not like I chose my enemies,” Imelda bit out, her fear making her far more on edge and bad-tempered.

Sirona wasn’t fazed by her. “Watch your back. Rookwood and Harlow are worse than any troll you might encounter.”

You think? Imelda sarcastically thought, but managed to keep herself from blurting that out. She watched Sirona go back to serving patrons, and she only put away her wand, then. Just when she thought she got more than she asked for, fate seemed to add even more to her plate. Lovely.

“What’s going on, Imelda?” Sebastian asked.

She saw his concern, and then she looked at Garreth. His eyes that were hardened at Victor had now softened with worry. It was mildly comforting that they seemed to care about her safety, but…

“This is hardly the perfect place to even possibly talk about this,” she stubbornly said, slightly gesturing to the area around them. The patrons had gone back to their drinks and conversations, but she could feel a few staring at them, probably wanting to eavesdrop if they could.

The two boys reluctantly agreed, and they nodded.

“I think we should Floo right to the castle,” Garreth suggested.

“I think so too,” Sebastian agreed. “Who knows who else is lurking nearby to get us—you.” He frowned at Imelda, obviously trying to puzzle it out. “What could you have that they want?”

“It’s certainly not my Quidditch skills,” she dryly said. “I was born with those, and they can’t take that away.”

“Could it be that Imelda Reyes has more to her than just Quidditch?” Garreth asked, finally joking around again. Imelda gave him an admonishing look, but nothing more. In fact…she was even fighting a smile as she was glad to hear his ridiculous banter.

“I’m fine with heading out now,” she said. Imelda had enough excitement for today, and she wanted to relax by maintaining the upkeep of her broom.

“Very well,” Garreth said. “I got what I wanted anyway.” He grinned as he proudly held up his flask.

“Oh dear,” Sebastian playfully said as they left the Three Broomsticks together. “What poison are you brewing now, Weasley?”

“Rude, Sallow,” Garreth tutted.

They went to the closest Floo Flames station and proclaimed, “Hogwarts Quad Courtyard” as they were whisked away by green flames one by one.

~~~

Imelda could tell that Garreth was teeming with questions, but he held them back. He simply wished them a good evening before heading for the Gryffindor Tower. Imelda knew he was inquisitive enough to try to find answers himself, and if she had to tell Garreth, she would rather all of this information come from her.

“Wait until Ominis hears about this,” Sebastian said as they walked through the dungeons.

“He will probably not believe you,” Imelda muttered.

“You will explain all of this once we’re all calmed down?” He asked, looking at her expectantly.

She frowned at him. “There’s a lot to it, if I wanted to let you in on it, Sebastian.”

“Why not let me in on it?”

“Because…” Imelda stopped, unsure why. If the past few years told her anything, Sebastian would be fiercely loyal and not tell a soul. He probably kept dozens of secrets about Ominis and Anne for them. Not to mention, he did help fight the troll, somewhat looking out for her.

She shook her head. She first needed to see Professor Fig tomorrow about what happened, and then she would try to decide whether or not she should share what she had kept with her for years.

“You know me, Sebastian,” she eventually said as he said the password for the entrance and they walked in. “I usually keep to myself.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he begrudgingly admitted. She knew he was sulky to be kept out of something so intriguing to him. It wasn’t like this was an easy secret to share, though.

Still…she wondered if this was the year many things would change from how things used to be for her…

Chapter Text

For Imelda, she usually woke up early to sneak in morning flying practice. While Quidditch was cancelled, she needed to stay in tip-top shape. Just in case Quidditch was back on, if their headmaster somehow changed his mind.

She had intended to do her usual routine, but she first wanted to visit Professor Fig as soon as possible, preferably before classes of the day started.

She was dressed in her Quidditch uniform with her new gloves and arm guards as she carried her broom through the halls. She kept a blank expression on her face as she heard the portraits whisper to each other as she walked by.

“Did you hear about Hogsmeade?”

“A full-grown troll… How did she do it?”

“That one certainly has more up her sleeves than she thought.”

“Look at her, though. Poisonous toadstools don’t change their spots.”

Imelda glared straight ahead as she kept marching toward Fig’s classroom. If that was how the portraits talked about her, she could only imagine how her peers would talk when they see her today…

She sighed as she knocked on Fig’s door. A part of her wondered if he was still in his private quarters, but she believed he was an early riser like her.

The door soon opened, but it wasn’t Professor Fig that answered it.

Miriam’s gray eyes shone with relief. “Imelda!” She cried out with excitement. Imelda stiffened as the woman pulled her into a tight hug.

“Er, hi,” she awkwardly mumbled into Miriam’s shoulder.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re alright,” Miriam whispered. She leaned back and looked over Imelda, checking for any sign of injury. “I feared I was too late!”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed. “Too late?” She echoed. “When did you get here?”

Miriam opened her mouth, but then there was a quiet throat clearing further inside the classroom. Fig was there with a small smile, his eyes shining with amusement.

“Dear, perhaps we should welcome her inside before we discuss any further?” He offered, waving a hand to the empty chairs and tables around them.

“Of course!” Miriam stepped aside and let Imelda walk in more before she closed the door behind her. “To answer your question, Imelda, I had hurried here after I took care of…things.”

Imelda set her broom and bag on a table and looked at Miriam as she walked back to her husband. It was only then that Imelda noticed Miriam looked pale and shaken. The fact that Professor Fig put an arm around her as soon as she was in his reach rang warning bells in her mind.

“What happened?”

Miriam looked at Imelda with remorse, remorse that Imelda was confused by. What could make Miriam feel so guilty? “Have you heard anything about Ranrok?”

Imelda averted her gaze, ashamed of herself for being ignorant of the world around her. Everyone seemed to have known the happenings of the Wizarding World, but she didn’t even bother to find out. Hot shame filled her, and she looked at her broom. Was it possible that her…love, passion, and drive for Quidditch turned into more than a mere obsession?

“You really do have a one-track mind.” Sebastian’s words echoed in her head once more. The truth in them made her heart pang with guilt.

Miriam gently pulled Imelda out of her thoughts by taking out a copy of the Daily Prophet. Imelda took it and read the headline of the front page:

Ranrok’s Goblin Rebellion: Truth or Gobbledegook?

There was a moving picture of a sneering goblin, the same one she saw talking with Rookwood.

“I, by mere happenstance, had gotten closer to his operations in my line of research,” Miriam quietly said. She fiddled with her hands. Imelda stayed quiet to hear everything, and Miriam continued: “I was trying to look more into my recent transcriptions of things known as ‘repositories’. I was on the cusp of a breakthrough, when…” She trailed off, lowering her gaze. Fig rubbed her arm, giving her comfort and keeping her in the present. Miriam breathed shakily. “I-I managed to get out of there, but barely.”

Imelda’s mind whirled about the potential threats not only to her, but those involved with her. She quietly scoffed. “This is far bigger than I had thought it could be,” she muttered. She shook her head. She couldn’t believe this, but she was starting to wish she was only dealing with boring trials and having to wait for years to do them.

“We know, Imelda,” Fig sympathetically said. “But we must do our best to work with what we’ve got.”

“The good news is that we could possibly be one step ahead of them,” Miriam chimed in. “You’ve already done two trials by the Keepers.”

“You think those are connected to these ‘repositories’ that Ranrok is looking into?” Imelda asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Miriam nodded. “I do. You said you’ve been collecting strange remnants of ancient magic that would be above the Pensieves you would have access to after trials, correct?”

“That’s right.” Imelda had kept them stored away and hidden at the bottom of her school trunk. She would have to find a better hiding spot…

“Not to mention that you say you’ve been seeing those places full of ancient magic, here and there. I cannot help but think those places hold more ancient magic than we think, and Ranrok is trying to siphon it.” Miriam rubbed her forehead. “Somehow, Ranrok’s magic when he tried to get me was more powerful than normal goblin magic.”

Imelda tried to wrap her head around this, but she couldn’t help thinking Sebastian or Garreth might have a better idea. Should she confide in either of them, then? She had gotten this far without any outside help, but now that things have changed and there are people out there wanting to hunt her down… She would need to change tactics. That’s what she would do if her opposing Quidditch team had the upper hand.

“Why don’t you tell us more about what happened in Hogsmeade?” Fig offered. “We would like to know what occurred exactly…”

Imelda nodded and went into as much detail as she could about the armored trolls, the conversation they overheard, and the encounter at the Three Broomsticks. At the mention of the goblin, Miriam gasped.

“Was his name Lodgok by any chance?” Miriam hurriedly asked.

“I think so,” Imelda answered, blinking in surprise. “You know him?”

“When I had read about the repositories, I decided the best places to check would be where you had trials,” Miriam explained. “So, I went to Rookwood’s castle. There was a goblin that came to my temporary site—Lodgok—and I welcomed him to help me study the castle.” Miriam smiled in reminiscence. “We worked well together, and…he, too, was curious about the place. He was a researcher at heart like me, so…I had told him about—” Her eyes flashed with surprise and then guilt shortly after. “Oh no… I told him about the container made of goblin metal, as well as the portkey…”

Imelda stared at her. “Isn’t it possible he was part of Ranrok’s army?” She demanded.

“Possibly, but I could tell he meant no harm—”

“He probably told Ranrok about you and then you barely got away from him!” Imelda snapped as she got onto her feet.

“Imelda,” Fig softly admonished. He gave her a warning look for berating his wife.

Imelda looked away, still fuming a bit. How could Miriam just easily trust a goblin when she had literally heard about Ranrok and such? Miriam’s trust could have gotten her killed, and that thought made Imelda’s stomach churn. She didn’t think all goblins were horrible… The goblin at the bank at the beginning of this entire mess was nice and excited. Lodgok, at a second of passing, didn’t seem unfriendly. But this new information made Imelda think he very likely betrayed Miriam.

“I think I should see Lodgok,” Miriam said after a moment of silence. “I want to know his side of the story. Maybe he can fill in some blanks for us.”

“And what if he is a spy of some kind for Ranrok?” Imelda quietly asked, looking back at the couple.

Miriam’s expression turned into one of determination. “Then I will make sure of that before I say any more.” She took a deep breath. “But first, I should go back to the Ministry and try to convince more people that we could be on the brink of another war between wizardkind and goblins.”

“And I shall talk to Professor Sharp as well,” Fig added. “He has connections with a few people in the Ministry. He could probably help our point if I talk to him about it.”

“What about the Keepers and their tedious trials?” Imelda asked, crossing her arms.

“We should confer with them. They should know what kind of situation we found ourselves in, and maybe they will provide information too.”

Imelda nodded, liking the idea. As silence fell on the three of them, she wondered if she should admit she was thinking of letting someone into this secret of hers. But then she thought…why did she have to have the Figs’ approval? It was her secret to begin with. If she wanted, she could choose to confide in anyone. Well, not anyone. She had standards.

Not only that, but…Miriam was targeted by Ranrok because she was looking into ancient magic. Ancient magic Imelda had. Because of her, Miriam was in trouble. Should she really bring her own peers into this?

She cleared her throat and grabbed her broom and bag. “We can go see the Keepers after classes today?” She suggested to Professor Fig.

He nodded. “I think that would be a good idea. The sooner we let them know, the sooner we can see what they have to offer as help.”

Imelda stopped from snorting in disbelief. Those Keepers were just portraits. What would they do to help? Speak cryptically and hope they don’t get hit by a Confringo? Because they “helped” Imelda that way for the past couple years.

“I’ll see you in the late afternoon, then,” she said before leaving the classroom. She still had time to do her usual morning flying.

~~~

Imelda was ready to hurl her pot at the next person that non-discreetly whispered about her. She could feel people’s stares, and her ears pricked at hearing “Hogsmeade”, “troll”, “surprise” and so much more.

Sebastian leaned over from his potting station to her right. “You’re going to make your Mandrake wither if you keep glaring at it.”

She moved her gaze to him, and he uneasily leaned back. “I preferred it when people only talked about my reputation,” she muttered as she prepared the second pot.

Sebastian gave her a weird look. “Wouldn’t you prefer no one talked about you behind your back?”

“There’s always talk behind my back,” she said, less irritated and more resigned this time. “I just want it to be about something that’s just normal and typical.” She didn’t like change, especially not in this way.

“Wow,” Sebastian said, staring at her with his eyebrows raised. “I never thought you’d think people talking about their astonishment of you taking down a troll would be bad.”

“It’s about attention that I don’t want,” she said with a lowered voice. “Attention about something that I didn’t want to draw attention to.”

“Well, you did take down the troll with…whatever that was,” Sebastian pointed out. “Even if it’s attention you didn’t want, isn’t it better to have it be good attention?”

Imelda sighed and rested her hands on her work station. “I don’t think it’s good attention,” she mumbled. Sebastian looked like he was about to refute, but she interjected, “They are shocked that I took down the troll, yes, but it’s like they’re surprised there is more to me than Quidditch.”

“Again, that’s not a bad thing,” Sebastian said, and she could hear his exasperation.

“…Maybe you’re right,” she replied to put an end to the conversation. She heard Sebastian open his mouth, and she quickly added, “And no, I’m not telling you what exactly happened at Hogsmeade.” Not now, anyway, she thought.

He grumbled, sounding like a kid that was denied a Christmas gift. Imelda shook her head as they went back to their potting.

Maybe she could see herself telling Sebastian something one day. After all, she didn’t have to tell him everything. She wasn’t sure she could ever trust anyone with everything she had dealt with in the past, actually. The idea of being that open…it rather terrified her. That much trust to put in someone? Being that vulnerable? It was almost too foreign of a concept for her to process. She was used to putting up walls. She liked putting up walls. It was how she was.

And that was fine…right?

~~~

Imelda sighed and rubbed her right ear. Of course she had a more grown Mandrake than the others. She was certain it was still ringing a bit from the piercing scream of the bloody plant. Professor Garlick tried to make it better by pointing out that at least her ear wasn’t bleeding, and Imelda had to remind herself that talking back to a professor would never be a good idea.

To say she was in a terrible mood was putting it lightly when she stepped into the Potions classroom before the rest of her peers.

So when she saw Garreth was already there working on an experiment, she loudly sighed. “For Merlin’s sake.”

“Well, at least that’s an improvement from ‘what do you want’ in terms of greetings from you,” Garreth said back. He grinned at her before going back to his work.

It almost mystified her how nonchalant he was to her remarks. Imelda warily eyed the cauldron and went to a station closer to Sharp’s desk than Garreth’s area. She started to set her bag on the floor and rearrange the work area to her preference.

“You trust me while fighting a troll, but you still don’t trust me enough to be close to me during Potions,” he mused. She looked over, but his back was still to her as he worked over a steaming cauldron. “Even after I apologized to you and everything.”

“I accepted your apology,” she replied.

“No, technically, you didn’t.” He finally turned and faced her, crossing his arms. “You just said you never hated me.”

“Why are you bringing this up now?” She asked, feeling defensive at him not saying anything. “Are you still wanting to be friends? Why is it so important to you?”

He shrugged. “Because it’s you,” he simply said.

Imelda was nonplussed, having not expected that answer. She watched him turn back to work on his potion, and she swallowed. “About the troll…it just happened so quickly. I put trust in you and Sebastian in the moment to look out for me and each other. I think we all did that while fighting it.”

“You do have a point,” Garreth admitted. He looked at her over his shoulder. “I suppose you’re not going to trust me near potions anytime soon, then.”

Imelda eyed his cauldron, and she saw his flask. “You’re experimenting at the moment. I know how most of your experiments go.”

He chuckled. “My reputation always seems to precede me.” Imelda thought she heard resignation in his tone, but maybe she was wrong… Then he cleared his throat and said, “Now if only I could get a Fwooper feather…” He hesitated before turning to Imelda with a sheepish smile. “I don’t suppose…you could get it for me?”

Imelda frowned at him, caught off guard by how different his mood was from a moment ago. “I’m not stealing a Fwooper feather from Sharp for you.”

He groaned. “Come on, he has constant supervision on me—”

“Because of this very reason!” She loudly pointed out.

He waved it away. “It’s not like third year,” he dismissed, and Imelda scoffed in response. She couldn’t believe his attitude. “Look, he won’t even miss it! Probably wouldn’t even suspect you, since you have a completely perfect record.”

“Exactly,” she stubbornly said back. “And I’m not ruining my perfect record, especially not for fizzy butterbeer.”

He dramatically sighed and went back to his cauldron. “You’re no fun.”

Imelda held out her arms to the sides. “That’s the Ice Queen for you,” she bitterly but resignedly proclaimed before returning to rearranging things.

Garreth stopped and looked over his shoulder at her, any teasing or playfulness from him gone after hearing her refer to herself as that. Imelda still had her back to him, so she never noticed the flicker of sympathetic understanding in his eyes as he watched her for a second.

Then their classmates came in, and Potions class started and ended rather uneventfully.

~~~

As discussed, Imelda and Professor Fig went to the Map Chamber at the end of the day and told them what happened.

Niamh looked perturbed. “I had hoped to have your next trial during the holiday break,” she said.

“Well, we now don’t have that luxury,” Imelda dryly replied, staring hard at her. “If we want to stay ahead of our enemies, we have to drop this waiting game.” She looked at Rookwood and pointed harshly in his direction. “Not to mention that your descendant is also being a prick and is coming after me.”

Rookwood shook his head. “I had never fathomed that one of my own lineage would do such a thing…”

“I am more concerned about the fact a goblin wants to hone this magic for himself,” Rackham added, stroking his white beard in thought. “How could goblins have known about this?”

“I wish I knew. Maybe I could have used their tactic and saved myself some trouble,” Imelda commented. She rolled her eyes at seeing all three Keepers shift on their feet at her attitude. “With how much effort you put into this asinine ‘quest’, you would think no one else could possibly pick up on it!” Her patience was running thin with them. She had tolerated them before, but things are different this year.

“We had made sure the secrets we have stored away in our trials could not be traced or followed by anyone other than those like us, Imelda,” Rackham patiently said.

“Then one of you royally mucked this up,” Imelda snapped. Professor Fig didn’t say anything, merely lifting his eyebrows as put his fist against his mouth. He knew better than to try to keep Imelda from lashing out on the main factors of her wrath. The three Keepers exchanged glances, all of them unsure how that could have happened. “You can discuss that all you want while you stay in your massive, pretentious portraits, but I’m done waiting around for you to tell me to wait until the so-called ‘perfect’ time for a trial.” She stepped forward. “There’s a chance these goblins are going to the same places as these trials, so if we want to keep the upper hand, you must let me do the next trial sooner than you originally planned.”

Niamh stared at her for a long time, and Imelda didn’t waver in her sight, staring right back at her. The former Headmistress sighed. “You are right, Imelda,” she said. “You have been doing what we’ve asked for the past few years, and we mustn’t let these secrets fall into the wrong hands. Especially when it could lead to a war far greater than the Wizarding World has ever seen.”

Imelda didn’t like how that sounded, but she understood how powerful ancient magic was for her. If goblins had a different kind of magic and used ancient magic as well…it could make the goblin wars in the 17th and 18th centuries seem like small tiffs in comparison.

“You will understand why I thought the holiday break would be ideal, but as you said, we cannot afford to wait,” Niamh continued. She waved to the glossy floor Imelda and Fig stood on. “See where your next trial is.”

Imelda and Fig turned around, and they gaped at seeing the starry, three-dimensional map reveal the location: Hogwarts itself, but more specifically—

“The Headmaster’s Office,” Fig quietly said.

“Just when I thought I wouldn’t be at risk of suspension or being expelled,” Imelda muttered. She looked back at Niamh.

“I had hoped the occupant of the office would be of help when the time came, but he seems to be startlingly unconcerned about anything but himself.”

Imelda scoffed, thinking of the pompous Headmaster Black. “Anything involving purebloods like him, more like,” she remarked.

“I’m afraid you will need to figure out a way to get in there while he is away,” Niahm said.

“Hence why holiday break would have been perfect,” Imelda sighed, rubbing her forehead. This year was going to be the death of her.

“It will not be easy to sneak in as yourself,” Fig told Imelda, already thinking of a plan. He thoughtfully held his head. “The headmaster had stopped sharing the password to his office with even us professors for a few years now.”

“Great,” Imelda said. How was she going to get the password, then? She paused, remembering someone. “Wait, Black’s elf. Scrope.”

Fig’s eyes lit up. “From when you helped him while finding Jackdaw, yes! He would know the password as Black’s trusted elf.”

“He won’t help out of a favor, though,” Imelda pointed out. “Bloody Jackdaw sold Apollonia’s ring, and when I told Scrope, he was disappointed to say the least. No, he wouldn’t tell me if I even asked ‘nicely’.”

“But he would talk to you in another way,” Fig suggested.

Imelda straightened and looked at her companion. The professor had a wily shine in his blue eyes. It didn’t take her long to put it together. “Polyjuice.”

“Precisely,” Fig praised with a nod. “Unfortunately, I do not have any, and I am not the best at making it.” He hesitated and stared at the Headmaster’s office in the map. “Perhaps I could talk to Sharp, but he is busy with his Ministry contacts.”

Imelda thought more about this idea. It might be convoluted, but they didn’t have any better ideas. Except for making Black so drunk his tongue would be loosened, but even then, they couldn’t guarantee that would be enough for him to spill the password. She wasn’t the best at brewing, though. Who could—?

One name came to her right away, and a thrill rushed through her at the candidate.

“Actually, Professor, I know just the person to ask…”

Chapter Text

Imelda was outside the Potions classroom, trying to prepare herself. She had spent last night planning out her request for Garreth’s help. Even though she had carefully picked the proper words, she couldn’t help but feel nervous all the way down to her churning stomach. There was a chance she would say the wrong thing, and then she would have to figure out a different way to get into that blasted Headmaster’s office. Things could have been simpler if Niamh chose a different place to begin with, but these Keepers like to pick significant places for them for these ridiculous trials.

Focus, she told herself. She took a deep breath and opened the door. Right away, she noticed the problem, and her shoulders slumped.

Garreth wasn’t here.

Her eyebrows furrowed. It was the weekend. Where could he have gone? Surely he would have wanted to brew more experiments? Unless…Sharp didn’t want him to experiment in his classroom. Imelda groaned and smacked her forehead. She was an idiot. Of course Sharp, the professor that didn’t tolerate students brewing out of line, wouldn’t want Garreth around out of class hours.

Imelda growled and turned around, heading back to the Central Hall. Now she had to find Garreth in order to ask him to brew a potion that would then help her get to Scrope, so she could get to the Headmaster’s Office, so she could then do the next trial. Merlin, even thinking over the plan gave her a headache.

She stood at the fountain in the middle and looked around for any familiar Gryffindors. It took a Gryffindor to know a Gryffindor, so logically, someone in her year that was a Gryffindor would know where Garreth was. If someone asked her where Sebastian and Ominis were, she would probably be able to answer that. Those two were already hanging around the DADA Tower for whatever reason. …She should hope it wasn’t anything too troublesome.

Her eyes landed on a familiar person that was near the doors to the library. Cressida Blume, a girl with messy, light brown hair and big glasses, and was always intent on exceeding her skills in magic. Imelda thought she was trying to prove something, but she didn’t know what. Prewett was the same in a way, so maybe it was a Gryffindor thing.

Imelda approached her, making Cressida straighten and warily eye her. Imelda couldn’t blame her; there was no normal reason for Imelda to want to talk to Blume.

“Blume,” she greeted cordially nonetheless.

“Reyes,” she replied. Her eyebrows furrowed as she was clearly trying to puzzle out Imelda’s intentions. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ll cut to the chase.” Imelda crossed her arms. “I’m looking for Weasley.” She tried to not react to Blume’s eyebrows rising. “Do you know where he is?”

“Why are you looking for Garreth?” Blume asked, more curious than wary now.

Imelda felt a blush coming, and she cleared her throat, reminding herself that there was nothing going on. She merely needed Garreth’s help, that was it. She managed to explain in an even tone: “I need him to do something for me, but I don’t know where he is.” She looked expectantly at Blume. “Can you help me or not?”

Blume thoughtfully frowned, and her brown eyes started to gleam with an idea. “I can,” she answered, and then she slyly added, “For a favor in return.”

Imelda stared hard at her. She should have known she would have to do something to get what she wanted. It couldn’t be too tall of an ask, correct? What could Cressida have possibly been involved in that she would need a favor? Imelda’s head started to ache more. Cressida better not hold this favor for a long time and dangle it over her head. She would rather get it done now.

“What’s the favor?” Imelda asked.

Cressida looked surprised that Imelda was willing to do it just like that, but she moved on. “You see…” She looked around to make sure no one was close by to eavesdrop. She lowered her voice and continued, “I was trying to have my books be lighter so my arms wouldn’t be so tired. Somewhere in the incantation, though, it made my books take flight.” Cressida sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Including my diary…”

Imelda stared at her, wondering if Cressida was pulling her leg. “Why didn’t you just cast an Extensive Charm on your bag to put your books in there?”

Cressida blinked and then flushed. “Well, that is advanced magic, I suppose I could have looked into it…” She shook her head and gave Imelda an impatient look. “Either way, Scribner banned me from going into the library to get my books back because I disrupted the place! It didn’t help that Amit told Scribner about it…”

Imelda knew about Amit Thakkar, a Ravenclaw that loved Astronomy, and he was always impressed by spell-casting his peers would do. Imelda couldn’t help but be surprised when, last year, the cheerful Ravenclaw turned out to be a decent Seeker last year. Anyway, Imelda figured Amit probably told Scribner because he was just excited for Cressida.

“And your favor is…?” Imelda asked.

Cressida frowned. “I cannot go back into the library without Scribner reporting to my parents! Not to mention I could get detention.” She gestured to the library. “But if you retrieved them for me, that wouldn’t be a problem! It’s only five books, including my diary.”

“You do realize I could get detention?” Imelda asked back, finding problems with this request.

“Only if you’re caught.”

“So you could sneak in yourself, just don’t get caught,” Imelda reasoned.

Cressida huffed and put her hands on her hips. She obviously didn’t like it when someone poked holes in her logic. “Do you want to know where Garreth is, or not? I doubt Leander or even Nellie would be as negotiable.”

Imelda scowled, hating being put in her place like this. Unfortunately, Cressida was right about Prewett and Oggspire. She didn’t know where they could be, and she didn’t want to lose more time trying to track them down to have to do another errand.

She swallowed back another remark and gritted out, “Okay.” She turned on her heel and headed to the library, but not without seeing Cressida smile with satisfaction. She felt her blood boil, not ever liking it when someone else had the upper hand on her.

Just the one time, she reminded herself. After she did this favor for Cressida, it would be water under the bridge. It wasn’t like she would have to do several things for her; just this one thing.

Imelda easily walked into the library and sighed when she saw the flying books immediately. She had no idea how Cressida managed to cause such a problem, but she was going to have to fix it.

Imelda searched for the librarian, and saw her writing at her desk. While she was tempted to quickly use the Summoning Charm on all of the books right now, Scribner might not appreciate such “disruptive behavior”. Of course, if Scribner had just let Cressida come in here to clean up her own mess, that would have worked out fine for everything.

Imelda wondered if she should waste her breath asking Scribner for permission to take care of the problem. There was a chance Scribner wouldn’t allow it, and then Imelda would have to be under a watchful eye, which would make the task harder.

Imelda was also tempted to just fly on her broom and collect the books that way, but Scriber had prohibited flying in the library. That would land her right into detention.

Imelda walked close to the Restricted Section and saw Scribner notice her before looking away without a care. The best thing about having a perfect record was that the professors and staff did not think Imelda would break rules and therefore didn’t need to be watched.

She walked around a bookshelf aisle, making herself unseen by Scribner, then she carefully aimed her wand at the first flying book she saw.

“Accio,” she whispered. The book instantly came to her, and Imelda hastily caught it. Her heart hammered, and she waited, but there were no approaching footsteps. She was in the clear.

Imelda ignored any mildly curious students as she kept doing the same technique, going further into the library and staying hidden from Scribner. Soon enough, she had four books, and needed one more. The last one had to be Blume’s diary.

Imelda saw a tattered-hardcover book flap its pages, and she instantly Summoned it over. The force of the spell was a bit stronger because of Imelda’s rather desperate spell-casting, and Imelda accidentally dropped it onto the floor with the book falling open.

Imelda groaned and bent down to pick it up, but then her eyes caught the name “Garreth”. She crouched and slowly lifted the book, her curiosity making her read the entry…

Today was a good day. That is, until Garreth splashed whatever ridiculous concoction he was “creating” all over my perfectly stewed lacewing flies. Had to empty my entire cauldron and start all over again.

He is such a menace. Thinks he knows everything there is to know about potions. Always disrupting Professor Sharp’s class with his experiments.

I’m utterly convinced that if he wasn’t Professor Weasley’s nephew, he would’ve been expelled by now.

Imelda stopped reading and slammed the diary shut, feeling rather annoyed. How could someone think that about Garreth? Sure, she did, but she had more of a reason than “inconvenience” like Blume here went through. Imelda dealt with humiliation and was given a new nickname from one of Garreth’s experiments. Even then, Garreth had tried to talk to her and apologize to her. Her mind reminded her she still didn’t technically accept his apology, and now she felt more angry. He went through that much effort for her, a Slytherin. Surely he had apologized to Blume, a fellow housemate, and tried to make it up to her in some way. And Blume had the gall to write about him as if he were an arrogant prick that was only here because of nepotism?

Imelda swiftly picked up the other books and held them in a stack with the diary at the bottom. She strode out of the library with a strange protectiveness that came over her so suddenly. She rounded the corner and went to where Blume was awaiting her return. Just looking at her made Imelda’s hold on the books tighten.

Blume unassumingly perked up and excitedly took the books out of Imelda’s hands. “Oh, thank you, Reyes!” She put the books down and quickly stowed away her diary, sighing with relief.

Imelda crossed her arms with her jaw clenching a bit. “So where is he?”

“Garreth likes to enjoy the fresh air, especially during the weekends,” Blume easily answered. “His favorite spot is at the Viaduct Courtyard, overlooking the Viaduct Bridge.”

“Good.” Imelda turned, about to head there, but her annoyance from being owned by Cressida and also from what she heard made her stay. She sighed and looked back at Blume. “Your diary fell open, and I saw something you wrote.”

Blume paled, mortified, but then there was a flash of outrage in her eyes. “How could you—?”

“It fell, I was picking it up, and I happened to see what was written,” Imelda quickly explained. She stared hard at her. “I saw what you wrote about Garreth.”

Blume’s anger went away, far more worried about something else of hers being read. “Oh.”

Imelda’s eyebrow twitched. “That’s it? ‘Oh’?” She glared at Blume. “Garreth might be a menace sometimes, but he is not arrogant like you imply. He actually knows more about Potions than you give him credit for. If you’re going to talk about someone in your book, make sure you get your facts right.”

Blume blinked owlishly at her, and Imelda felt a little better. That strange feeling inside her subsided, as if it too was satisfied with what she did.

Imelda was about to leave, but then Blume finally piped up. “When have you started to call Garreth by his first name?” She sounded completely perplexed.

Imelda blushed as she realized her slip-up. When did that happen? Her flustered state made her defensiveness rise up again. “I think I have a right to call him by his first name, since I seem to know more about him than you,” she impatiently blurted out over her shoulder before walking across the Central Hall.

Students saw the peeved look in her eye as well as her quick strides and hurriedly moved out of her way. Imelda didn’t know why she was so irked by Blume’s objectively-innocent question. Was it because it sounded like Imelda and Garreth were close? She had hardly talked with him in the years before, only a couple conversations and greetings were exchanged. Well, except for fourth year… They had created an alliance of sorts, helping each other with homework from time to time. Perhaps that was why Garreth had been initiating more conversation this year, because he thought they were already close like friends.

Why not think that too? She internally wondered.

Imelda mulled that over as she kept walking, ignoring the brisk breeze when she was outside. Fewer students stayed out here, already bundled up with cotton gloves and house scarves. Imelda didn’t have that luxury, too lost in thought.

She couldn’t explain it, but the idea of her and Garreth being friends made her heart feel heavy. Was it guilt? Dread? …Fear? All three? She didn’t know, and that unsettled her.

She could dismiss Garreth by thinking he was like Sebastian where he was reckless and would get in trouble. Someone she should not be around, but…she still cared about Sebastian. Someone had to keep him and Ominis in line, even though the latter seemed to have lost his mischievous side. The whole situation with Anne made Imelda feel more worried about them, and now Imelda had to admit that the two Slytherin boys were closer to her than she first thought.

She shook her head as she trekked across the Viaduct Bridge. She was overthinking it. She could be reading too much into it. And yet…Garreth’s answer to why a friendship between them was important to him stayed with her.

“Because it’s you.”

She didn’t know what to make of it, but she couldn’t deny that she was curious to find out. She slowed to a stop at the middle of the bridge, and she lifted her head, her gaze instantly landing on the young wizard she was mystified by.

Garreth had rested his arms on the stone balustrade up ahead. He was dressed warmly, wearing burgundy cotton gloves and his Gryffindor house scarf of striped red and gold. He had his cheek leaning against his hand as he lazily watched people on the bridge. Then he met her eyes, and his eyebrows rose as he straightened, putting both of his hands on the balustrade now. He greeted her with a grin, and she returned it with a pointed look. He tilted his head, but he seemed to understand to stay put.

Imelda could feel his inquisitive gaze as she crossed the bridge and walked up the several sets of stairs to get to him. The words she had prepared to ask for his help had been forgotten, and now she was trying to come up with what she could say to appeal.

Garreth turned and leaned his side against the balustrade by the time she stood before him. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Reyes?” He playfully asked, but she could tell he was intrigued. This was odd of her, and they both knew it.

Imelda nervously wet her lips, feeling herself grow more sheepish as Garreth kept waiting. She cleared her throat and suddenly uttered, “I accept your apology.” She sighed, and covered her face with her cold hand. She blamed that conversation she had with Blume for having that be at the front of her mind.

“I mean…I…” She took a deep breath and forced herself to lower her hand and looked back at Garreth. He looked surprised, his eyes having widened a little more. “You…said that I wouldn’t trust you near potions anytime soon.”

There was a pause.

“Right?” Garreth slowly asked, his eyebrows starting to furrow. He didn’t know where she was going with this. She honestly didn’t either.

Imelda swallowed, feeling heat rise in her cheeks at how awkward this was to her. “Well, you were wrong.” Garreth snorted, and she could tell he was holding back a laugh. She forced away her irritation as she wrung her hands. She had to keep in mind why this was crucial for her to get right. “I…would like your help making a potion.”

She must have said the magic words, because Garreth perked up with a bright shine in his eyes. He grinned, and she managed to feel less nervous. Maybe this would go better than she feared.

“Well, you know I am always happy to brew a potion,” Garreth confidentally replied.

Imelda sighed, relieved to hear that. “Thank you. Now, for this potion—” She stopped when Garreth held up a finger.

His grin shifted to a smirk as a mischievous glint showed in his green eyes. “For a price,” he said.

Imelda frowned. These Gryffindors seemed to always want something in it for them. Well, she would too, but she assumed that was more of a Slytherin trait. Gryffindors were supposed to be about honor, right? Why did they need some sort of bargain? Then again, they weren’t Hufflepuffs. They brought modesty to a whole other level.

“What do you—” She stopped, seeing that triumphant look in his eyes. “No.”

“Oh, yes,” he eagerly replied, smirking more. He leaned a little closer, and Imelda refrained from leaning back for the sake of personal space. “You know exactly what I want.” Was it just her, or did his voice drop an octave?

Her face flushed as she maintained eye contact with him. “I’m not stealing a Fwooper Feather for you,” she stubbornly said.

Garreth shrugged before leaning back, and Imelda caught a whiff of mint. He put a hand on his heart. “I just want a Fwooper feather, and then I’ll be entirely at your service.” He bowed a little as if he were a chivalrous prince, even daring to grin innocently. “You have my word.”

Imelda raised an eyebrow. As much as she didn’t like having to do errands, and to get one thing for another like the blasted Keepers’ “quest”, she at least already had an alternate plan. There was a place she could go to obtain the feather, and it was a far simpler end of the bargain for her to hold up.

“Give me a minute,” she muttered, and Garreth’s smirk dropped in surprise as she suddenly turned around to go to the Floo Flames Station close by.

“North Hogsmeade!” She yelled as she threw the Floo ash and got transported away…

~~~

Garreth stayed in the same spot when she came back. His eyes widened at seeing her soot covered self, and she nonchalantly dusted the ash off her shoulders and hair. She would have to thoroughly cast Scourgify on her robes and wash her face, but that could wait. She had a deal to seal.

She reached into the inner pocket of her robe and pulled out a long, pink feather. Garreth marveled at it, a small smile coming onto his face. “There,” she said, holding it out for him to take.

“I shall dedicate my new and improved butterbeer to you,” he excitedly said, accepting it. He lightly ran his finger along the feather, mesmerized by the color before looking at her. “How did you get it so quickly?”

“Brood and Peck,” Imelda answered as she got more ash off herself. “I just had to buy a feather from the merchant overseeing the creatures.”

Garreth stared at her for a long moment with an indiscernible expression. Then he chuckled rather…fondly. “Genius,” he said as he put the feather into his own robes.

Imelda felt a rush of warmth at the praise. She had never been called that before, not even in Quidditch…

“So,” he proclaimed with a clap of his hands. He started to rub them, ready to get to work. “What’s this potion you’re commissioning me to make?”

Imelda looked around and was disappointed to see that while there were hardly any students, there were still a few lurking about. She would hate to have gone through all this effort only to be tattled on by an eavesdropper.

She stepped closer and gestured for him to lean down. He did so, tilting his head to hear better. Imelda cupped her mouth and whispered, “Polyjuice.”

Garreth instantly turned to gawk at her, his eyes looking like they doubled in size. His face was flushed, but Imelda figured the cold air was now getting to him.

“What in Merlin’s name would you need that for?” He asked, his voice hushed.

Imelda averted her gaze and crossed her arms, rubbing them. The cold was certainly getting to her now. “I can’t tell you that now,” she answered just as quietly. “But it is not of malicious intent, that I can assure you.”

Garreth stared at her, and she felt like he was staring right into her soul like a Legilimens. “You’re cold, aren’t you?”

Imelda blinked, surprised by his question. Why did he change the subject?

He sighed and started to undo his scarf. Imelda didn’t even move away when he got closer to wrap it snug around her neck. She then blushed when Garreth reached out and covered her ears with gloved hands, the action making them closer than before. A bit of warmth came from his hands, though, and the scarf was already helping, so she just dealt with her flustered self.

“I have no idea why you need it, but I only hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered close to her ear.

Imelda then caught on what he was doing. He was killing two birds with one stone: helping her stay warm, but while doing so also kept their conversation as private as possible in the moment.

“If…If it matters, Professor Fig knows about this,” she mumbled. The scent of mint was stronger with the scarf right under her nose, but it wasn’t overwhelming or bothering her.

Garreth hummed. “Alright, that does matter a bit. If a professor knows about it, then it cannot be that bad.”

“So, you can brew it?”

Garreth chuckled and leaned back, meeting her eyes while his hands were still on her ears. “Of course I can,” he said with the utmost confidence in his voice. “I’m a potions prodigy, after all.”

Imelda lightly rolled her eyes, but she was pleased to hear that. More warmth was starting to circulate through her, thanks to Garreth’s help. “We have an agreement, then?”

He looked at her solemnly. “We do,” he confirmed.

Imelda was risking a lot by trusting Garreth with this task and her request, but she believed she made the right choice in trusting him.

Chapter Text

Garreth opened the Entrance Hall door for Imelda, and he followed closely behind her.

“Thank you, by the way,” she mumbled as she unwrapped his scarf and handed it to him. The smell of mint still lingered on her clothes.

“I’m a gentleman if nothing else,” he playfully said as he took back his scarf with a grin.

Imelda rolled her eyes, but she fought a smile all the same. “So, when can we get started?”

“We need a few things,” Garreth said as he started to walk faster with longer strides. Imelda had to practically jog to keep up with him. “We need a certain book, some ingredients, and an astronomer.”

“An astronomer?” Imelda asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Garreth merely nodded, and he led the way to the Grand Staircase. “Luckily, I know just who to ask.”

Imelda hastily followed him as they took the spiral stairs right along the wall, and she recognized the corridor as the one leading to the Ravenclaw Tower…

“Thakkar?” She asked, and Garreth grinned at her.

“You Slytherins don’t have a monopoly on being resourceful. You’d be surprised how well connected I am.”

Imelda lifted an eyebrow, intrigued by who Garreth could know for a benefit. “How well?”

“You’re going to have to do more than twist my arm in order for me to tell you that,” he lilted with a mischievous shine in his eyes.

“I’m not intending to trade secrets if that’s what you’re wanting,” Imelda warned. She was still unsure if she wanted to tell Garreth anything about Hogsmeade.

“Well, you’re already trusting me with one thing already,” he casually pointed out as he hardly slowed down his pace. Imelda couldn’t believe how fast he could walk! Was he that determined to get started on this Polyjuice potion? “But, we are only study buddies—”

“Study partners,” Imelda firmly corrected.

“—so we’re not that close with each other,” he finished with amusement. “But, even as study partners, I know enough about you that you’re not one to be so…open with anyone.”

Imelda frowned. “You think you know me that well?”

“I don’t know about ‘well’,” he modestly replied, finally walking at a leisurely pace as he looked at her. “It’s an observation that most would probably notice, too.”

Imelda felt her skin crawl, but she didn’t know why. It was probably an obvious assumption people could make about her. She did keep to herself, and she hardly opened up to others. What made her feel uneasy, then?

She met Garreth’s eyes, and she thought she was pierced by his gaze, as if he knew her inner conflict. Was that what worried her? That there could be someone that managed to see past her walls and see her with all of her vulnerabilities? A chill went through at the uncertainty of the outcome for trusting someone that much.

That’s not going to happen, she told herself, and she looked straight ahead. “Where do you find Thakkar, then? Wouldn’t he be in the Astronomy Tower?”

Garreth took a deep breath. “Considering it’s daytime and there’s an overcast sky at the moment, he wouldn’t be stargazing just yet.” Imelda felt her face burn in humiliation at how wrong her assumption was. “That’s fine. Amit would be with his best friend, who happens to be a friend of mine, too: Andrew.”

“And where is Andrew?” Imelda asked.

“He has a knack for Arithmancy,” Garreth casually explained as he leaned around the corner of the corridor, looking around. “At least, I certainly hope so, since he takes the class,” he playfully added. “Ah, and there they are.”

Imelda stepped forward a little and saw Larson regard a door with Arithmancy symbols arched over it. He had a hand to his chin as he stared at the intricate symbols with a thoughtful expression. Thakkar was bouncing on his heels, tilting his head as he looked at it with curiosity.

Garreth put his hands behind his back as he easily walked up to the Ravenclaws. “I see you found a more complicated one.”

Larson didn’t react much, merely looking at Garreth. Then his brown eyes flicked to Imelda, who had slowly joined them. He looked back at the Arithmancy door. “I was pleased to find more of a challenge this year,” he simply said in his usual, soft tone.

“Hi, Garreth,” Amit brightly greeted with a grin and wave. He then leaned forward to look past the others to see Imelda. “Reyes.”

“Thakkar, Larson,” Imelda cordially greeted before crossing her arms. She looked at the writing on the door. There were symbols on corners of two hexagons: one on the top half and the second on the bottom half. There were a few spots over corners that were not filled in while there was a double-digit number in the center of each. She had dealt with enough puzzles with the Keepers’ trials, so she didn’t desire taking Arithmancy out of the possible elective classes.

“I think that one”—Garreth pointed at a spot on the top-right corner of a hexagon— “would be the—”

Andrew made a tiny noise of protest, holding up his hand. “No input, please,” he said. “I wish to figure this out on my own.” Amit chuckled and shook his head as he started to write in the air.

“Of course. I’ll try to solve it on my own later,” Garreth said with a simple smile.

Andrew looked at him with a lifted eyebrow. “You aren’t being persistent like you had been about Lewis Carroll’s logic puzzles a couple years ago,” he thoughtfully mused. He turned to him, and Amit even looked intrigued. “You want something.”

“Perceptive as always, Andrew,” Garreth commended, his smile still there. He nodded to Amit. “I wish to talk to you, actually.”

Amit’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?” He asked, astounded. “I don’t understand; Neither astronomy nor Gobbledegook hardly have anything to do with potioneering.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my friend,” Garreth cheerfully replied. “Some potions are very finicky and require ingredients to be obtained at specific times at night.”

Amit’s eyes lit up at that while Andrew nodded in agreement. Imelda was feeling a bit impatient about this conversation, and she leaned onto her other leg. Garreth reached out and tapped her shoulder before focusing back on the Ravenclaws. Amit didn’t react, but Andrew trailed his eyes from Garreth to Imelda. She could tell he was trying to put together why they were working together, as well as why…Imelda didn’t act hostile when Garreth touched her shoulder.

“Now, Amit,” Garreth said while Imelda tried to ignore Andrew’s inquisitive stare, “do you know when the next full moon is?”

Amit smiled brightly with confidence. “Of course! The moon phase is very easy to chart, as it is almost always a month apart from new moon to new moon.”

“So when’s the full moon?” Imelda asked, feeling a bit more upset as she didn’t like how Andrew was obviously trying to read her. The Ravenclaw wisely turned his attention back to his friends, crossing his arms and resting his chin on his hand.

“Well, the new moon is going to occur about two weeks from now,” Amit nonchalantly explained while counting on his fingers. “Then the full moon would be two weeks after that… If you are looking for a specific date, I would say around…the twenty-eighth.”

“Brilliant,” Garreth chirped. He turned to Imelda with a grin. “Well, I think we should leave the eagles to their puzzles.”

“I suppose,” Imelda merely said, somehow relaxing from Garreth’s attitude.

“Thank you for the help, Amit,” Garreth told him, and Amit nodded to him. He then pointed to Andrew. “I’ll be looking for you at the Transfiguration Courtyard next weekend.”

Andrew chuckled. “We shall see if you have stepped up your strategies,” he playfully said.

“I’ve got some gambits up my sleeves,” Garreth simply replied. “See you around!”

Imelda was shocked by how quickly Garreth left, as if it was just business even though he was clearly making friendly conversation. She looked at the two curious Ravenclaws before hastily following Garreth through the tower to the Suspension Bridge.

Andrew hummed as he watched them. “Well, that was new,” he remarked before going back to the door.

“I wonder why Professor Sharp has them do a potion assignment,” Amit mused.

“One of Hogwarts’s greatest mysteries.” Andrew had a feeling there was more than an assignment going on, though…

~~~

“Why did you need to know when the next full moon was?” Imelda asked as they speed-walked through the DADA Tower. She at first thought Garreth’s prompt behavior was because they needed to start the potion right away. But since Thak—Amit—told them that information, Imelda thought they now had some time.

“One of the ingredients for the potion is fluxweed, but it has to be picked during the full moon,” Garreth easily told her, and Imelda couldn’t help but feel impressed at how knowledgeable he sounded about his area of expertise. She had hoped he did know what he was talking about, but she was always pleasantly surprised when he proved it like now. “The other ingredient is lacewing flies, but they have to be stewed for exactly twenty-one days.”

“Then shouldn’t we get started on that?” Imelda asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I will soon enough,” he answered. “We need that book, though.”

“Which book exactly?”

Garreth stopped and turned to her, making her falter in her stance as she hurriedly stopped before she ran into him. He leaned closer to her and quietly said, “A book from the restricted section.”

Imelda flushed at the close proximity before her mind drifted to a memory. “Wait…” She looked up at him with slight shock. “Our second year, you had a book from the restricted section.”

“That’s the one we need,” he affirmed with a small smile. “And here I thought only I remembered that interaction.”

Imelda thought he sounded fond again, and she instinctively flushed more. “You’re more memorable than you give yourself credit for,” she said, and she was satisfied to see his cheeks redden at her blatant statement.

“I don’t know if you meant that as a compliment or an insult,” he jokingly said with a grin, “but I’ll take it as a compliment.” He looked at the doors to the Transfiguration Courtyard and sighed. “The problem is, though, that in order to check out a book from the restricted section, you need permission from a professor. A note with their signature, specifically.”

“I’m assuming your aunt would not be willing to do that for you again,” Imelda remarked.

Garreth snorted, and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “She technically didn’t do it for me the first time either…”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed before she realized what he meant. “You used a forged signature?” She hissed, doing her best to keep her voice low.

“Hey, it worked,” Garreth defensively protested. “I just wanted that book because it was about potions that I wanted to make to be more advanced in my skills. Even so, I knew my aunt would not like me to get that book, so yeah, I forged her signature.” He cleared his throat. “Of course…after that stunt, Scribner got suspicious and I think she found out it was a forgery. Between that, and Sebastian’s excursions into the restricted section, we are walking on eggshells with the librarian.”

Imelda sighed. So they needed to be sure they played by the rules of the school. Which meant they needed legitimate permission from a professor—

She perked up. She hastily grabbed Garreth’s wrist. “Come on, I know which professor to talk to,” she said before dragging him behind her up the stairs. Garreth quickly got over his shock of her initiating physical contact and picked up his pace.

~~~

“There you are,” Fig announced after signing the paper. He looked between Imelda and Garreth with a twinkle in his eye. “Best of luck to you two on your potion brewing.”

“Thank you, Professor Fig,” Imelda said as she took the signed note. She nudged Garreth. “Let’s get that book now.”

Garreth nodded and he smiled at the professor. “Thank you, Professor.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Weasley,” Fig replied, but Garreth thought he saw a bit of amusement in his eyes.

“Garreth,” Imelda urged, and Garreth finally followed her out of the classroom.

“You know, Fig might be the best professor,” Garreth said. “I never thought he would be nonchalant about this kind of thing.”

Imelda hesitated. She knew exactly why Fig wouldn’t mind this, since it involved working with the Keepers. But Garreth didn’t know that.

“Also…you called me by my first name,” Garreth pointed out with wonder in his tone.

Imelda blushed. “Do you want me to go back to calling you ‘Weasley’?” She asked with exasperation. Why were people making it a big deal? Well, she knew why, but still!

“Oh, I don’t mind you calling me ‘Garreth’ at all,” he cheerfully replied. She looked at him grinning with all his teeth, but she could have sworn he looked smug. “Does this mean I can call you ‘Imelda’ again?”

Imelda felt more flustered than she thought she would about such a thing, but she forced herself to not dwell on it. She shrugged. “Imelda or Reyes is fine,” she muttered rather truthfully.

“You got it, Imelda,” he said.

If him calling her “Reyes” made her feel like it was odd, him calling her “Imelda” somehow made her feel…satisfied.

~~~

Scribner stared at Imelda with clear skepticism as she looked between the signed note and Imelda. “Ms. Reyes, what could you possibly need this book for?” She asked.

“It’s a special assignment,” Imelda lied, hoping that was believable. It was kind of true, since she needed this potion to access the trial.

Scribner peered at her over her glasses before looking at Garreth. He simply smiled back at her with his hands in his pockets, the picture of complete innocence. The librarian eventually sighed.

“Very well. I shall retrieve it for you.”

They watched her leave, and then Garreth leaned close to Imelda. “Good cover-up,” he whispered. His eyes gleamed. “I think I’m rubbing off on you.”

Imelda rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, but I’ve dealt with worse than trying to get a book from the restricted section,” she murmured back.

Garreth’s eyebrows shot up as he regarded her with awe. “Are you telling me that you’re not the perfect rule-stickler like everyone believes?”

Imelda smirked. “You’ll have to do more than twist my arm in order for me to tell you that,” she echoed.

He gaped at her before chuckling. “You certainly know how to entice my curiosity, I’ll give you that.”

Scribner soon came back with a dusty book that had a ratty, black cover with the indented title in faded silver letters. “Moste Potente Potions”, it read.

“Here you are,” Scribner said. She stamped the inside and made a little note on her registry before slowly holding it out to Imelda. Imelda grabbed it, but Scribner didn’t let go of it just yet. Scriber made eye contact with her. “…Good luck with your special assignment.”

Imelda thought she could hear the obvious skepticism in her tone, but Imelda kept a blank expression on her face. “Thank you.” She then took the book out of Scribner’s hand, and she and Garreth walked out of the library.

He gestured for them to go to an alcove by the stairs of Central Hall, and they made their way over. Imelda was also glad she didn’t see Blume anywhere nearby. She had probably gone to write about Imelda in her diary…

With the little moment of privacy they had, Imelda opened the book, leafing through the pages for the potion. Her skin crawled at seeing some pictures as she looked, wondering why on earth such grotesque concoctions were made. And if Garreth had this book, how many of these potions did he make just to fine-tune his potion-making?

One drawing stood out to her, and she barely tamped down a shriek, only emitting a muffled-squeak and dropping the book from her startled state. Garreth hurriedly bent down and managed to catch the book.

He let out a sigh of relief before he admonished her as he stood up at his full-height. “This is a book that was written at least three centuries ago! Why would you just drop—?” He stopped when he finally looked at her, noticing Imelda was pale as the moon. Not only that, but he saw the fear in her brown, wide eyes as she stared into the open air.

Garreth slowly flipped through the book to where he was certain Imelda left off, and he found the cause. It was a disturbing picture that showed the consequence of incorrectly brewing Polyjuice. Well, more like having the wrong essence entirely. It featured a woman with her hair up, but…the hair was actually a large spider, legs and fangs and all. Garreth remembered seeing that as a twelve-year-old, and being very sure that the essence he had for his own Polyjuice had human hair and nothing else.

He turned the page to where the ingredients and instructions were for Polyjuice, and he looked at Imelda. He hesitated before reaching out and putting his hand on her shoulder. She jolted and met his eyes, brought out of her stupor.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he quietly said.

She swallowed and looked away, ashamed that she actually revealed her phobia. More heat rose in her cheeks, and she took a deep breath. “Did you find the instructions?” She faintly asked, clearly not wanting to talk about her moment of weakness.

Garreth stared at her for a long time, his green eyes full of reassurance and understanding. His hand was still on her shoulder, and she wondered why he seemed to care this much about her. She glanced at his hand, and he sheepishly retracted it.

“Er, yes,” he stammered. He opened the book again, and Imelda didn’t look until she chanced a peek. She was relieved to see there weren’t any drawings on the pages, and she tried to read the instructions upside-down. “Thankfully, I know where to get lacewing flies, and all the other common ingredients. It’s the powdered horn of a bicorn and shredded skin of a Boomslang that will be harder to obtain.”

Imelda frowned, having never heard of such ingredients, which told her that they weren’t usual ones that they would use in Potions class. “How uncommon are they?”

Garreth hummed in thought. “If you know the right merchant, they’re not that uncommon.” He grinned triumphantly. “And I know where to go to buy them.”

“And that’s…?”

“Lower Hogsfield,” he answered. “The merchant, Jalal Sehmi frequents there and often sells the odd thing every now and then. I managed to scrape up enough to buy those ingredients from him years ago.” He clicked his tongue. “Of course, I don’t know if he would be willing to sell them to me again… I might have…accidentally traded the wrong potion with him, and someone he knew lost hair for a couple months.”

“Why would you make a hair loss potion?” Imelda asked with incredulity.

“I went through a phase of strange potions last year,” Garreth exasperatedly explained with a sigh. “I was supposed to give him a Hair-Dyeing potion for someone in his family, but I mixed it up with the hair loss one.” He frantically waved a hand, wanting to change the subject. “Look, the point is: you will have to do the business transaction with him.”

“Fine,” she replied. She was already planning on grabbing her pouch of money and broom from her dorm before heading out. She looked at him with a tilt of her head. “And what will you be doing?”

“I’ll be gathering the lacewing flies and start stewing them,” Garreth told her. “There are some bushes of them not far from the North Exit of Hogwarts.”

Imelda realized something else. “Wait, where are you planning on brewing this? I doubt Sharp would be generous and understanding to let us make this in his classroom.”

Garreth smirked. “Don’t worry. I have a place to do…let’s call it ‘unsupervised potion work’,” he confidently said.

Imelda had a feeling he wasn’t going to share where this was, and she couldn’t believe she was wanting to know where it was. Merlin, she was far more curious than she needed to be…

“I’ll get those ingredients, then,” she said.

“You can take your time. We have three weeks, after all.”

“I’d rather have them now,” she replied. “I like having a head start when I can.” She didn’t understand people that would just wait around until something had to be done when they could have done it days or weeks ago. She wanted to stay on top of things, so she wasn’t going to wait around until they absolutely needed those ingredients.

“Very well.” Garreth smiled. “Give Jalal my regards.”

“If he even wants to hear from you,” she lightly remarked, and she cracked a tiny smile as Garreth barked out a surprised laugh.

~~~

Imelda had her Night Dancer in her hand as she paid the Galleons.

“Thank you,” she said to Jalal.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he replied. “And be sure to keep those away from Mr. Weasley. I had heard through the grapevine that he wreaked havoc after retrieving some ingredients from Pippin’s.”

Imelda did not know which circumstance that was, but she didn’t particularly care about that. She was more annoyed that someone was advising her what to do or not do based on a rumor about someone. The Keepers could barely tell her what to do, and she didn’t like that. Of course she didn’t like someone else getting in her business.

And…maybe she was also annoyed that people assumed the worst about Garreth…but it was somewhat warranted. Still…she wasn’t exactly new to people coming to conclusions about others…

“Noted,” she said with a hint of bitterness. Jalal blinked in surprise at her attitude, but didn’t say any more as she walked away from his shop.

Imelda carefully stashed the two potion ingredients into her robe pockets when she looked up and spotted a particular classmate. “…Onai?”

Natsai Onai, near the Floo Flames station of Lower Hogsfield, turned to her with surprise. “Reyes? What are you doing here?”

“Shopping,” she casually answered. She noticed the ash from the Floo on Onai’s robes. “What are you doing here?”

Onai seemed genuinely shocked that Imelda would want to know, but she smiled a bit. “I was inspired by you.”

Imelda stared at her, trying to think of a time she had ever done something to impress the relatively-new student. “How so?”

“I was at Hogsmeade when I saw you, Garreth, and Sallow take down that troll,” Onai explained. “I was about to rush to your aid when I saw you make it turn to dust! It was extraordinary.”

Imelda winced. Great, someone else in her year saw her use her ancient magic.

Onai chuckled and held up her hands to placate her. “Do not worry. We all have our special abilities, and I do not wish to pry.” She tilted her head, and her dark brown eyes flickered with worry. “But I am concerned about why Rookwood and Harlow are after you.”

“You were at the Three Broomsticks as well, weren’t you?” Imelda dryly asked.

Onai nodded. “Indeed. I had never expected a leisure time of drinking butterbeer would suddenly turn into a stand-off.” Onai’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Thank goodness you had Garreth and Sallow there, as well as Sirona, of course.”

Imelda shrugged. “They were outnumbered. They would be fools to try anything.”

“Perhaps, but seeing your courage in fighting that troll, and Sirona not being intimidated by them made me want to take a stand of my own.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Imelda said. They were just teenagers, and there was already one teenager dealing with things a grown-up should have to deal with. And that teenager was her.

Onai shook her head. “It is clear that Rookwood and Harlow are threats to all of us.” Her eyes hardened. “And I will not allow them to threaten Hogwarts.”

Imelda had a feeling this was rather personal for her. “Even so, Aurors are supposed to take care of them,” she stubbornly said. “Not some students.”

“I have tried talking to Officer Singer, but she wouldn’t share much.” Onai was at least fair when she added, “Understandably so, since I am just a student.”

“Yes, and you’ll be in over your head if you try to ‘take a stand’ against these people,” Imelda firmly said with a hand on her hip.

Onai frowned. “Not enough people took a stand against the men in Matebeleland,” she solemnly said. “I will not sit idly by if I can help put a stop to them.”

Imelda’s irritation barely thawed at Onai’s tone. She knew Onai and her mother came from the magical school Uagadou last year, but nothing else. They were in separate houses for one thing, but they never really interacted with each other until now.

Imelda sighed and put her hand to her head. Onai was showing her Gryffindor side, that was certain. “Let’s just say you were going to help, what could you do that Singer and others won’t do?”

Onai looked around to make sure no one else was nearby. “I had heard that Harlow manages Rookwood’s day-to-day operations,” she explained in a hushed tone. “If Harlow goes down, that would cripple Rookwood’s entire enterprise.”

Imelda supposed she could see this logic, but again, this was far more than underaged witches should handle. Though…if Rookwood’s enterprise went down, that would mean it was one less enemy to worry about for herself.

“If I could get more evidence Singer needs, then Harlow would be apprehended,” Onai continued. She added in a quieter tone, “I overheard some of Rookwood’s lot talking about a massive poaching operation that Harlow is planning.”

Imelda lifted an eyebrow. “You would only get evidence, correct? Not try to pull some heroic Gryffindor stunt and take on a dozen dark wizards?”

Onai chuckled. “I would not be afraid to hold my own if it came to it, but yes, I am mainly wanting to obtain evidence for Singer.”

Imelda considered it. Just getting evidence didn’t sound too dangerous. Then Singer and other Aurors could do the dangerous part. Not only that, but if Onai was going to do this anyway, Imelda thought…

“Someone should have your back,” she said. She took a deep breath. “If you…know more, keep me posted.”

“Really?” Onai asked.

“Like you said, they’re after me,” Imelda reasoned. “I’ll probably be involved anyway. At least I can help stop them from being a hindrance to me.” She pointed at Onai. “But we’re only getting evidence,” she firmly said. “Nothing more reckless than that.”

“Understood,” Onai replied with a small smile. “I must say, Reyes, you seem to surprise everyone this year.”

“Well, there’s no Quidditch,” she mumbled as she looked away. “Make of that what you will.”

Onai stared at her for a moment before shrugging. “Anyway, I was intending to investigate around here, and see if I can learn more. I shall let you know what I find out. Be on your guard.”

Imelda nodded and mounted her broom. “You too,” she bade.

She was really hoping she wasn’t making a drastically wrong move by encouraging Onai. But Imelda had a feeling this year was going to be “fun” for her and nothing like what she dealt with before.

She took off, and she looked down, noticing Grace at the edge of a dock. Imelda frowned, wondering why Grace was just staring at the lake. She steered, about to descend, but then she heard an outburst nearby.

“How dare you threaten me?!”

Imelda saw Grace jolt at the shouting and look to her right, and Imelda looked over there too. There was a tent, and she thought she saw a woman with two men standing in front of her. Imelda looked around, but no one nearby seemed to have heard her. If they did, they didn’t come to help either. She considered just flying away, to let the woman fend for herself, but then her broom picked up on her guilty conscience. It started to point in the direction of the spectacle, and Imelda sighed in defeat.

“Creo que estoy perdiendo la cabeza,” she muttered to herself before she leaned forward, flying to the tent at a faster speed.

“She must have come this way. Think!” One of the men barked when Imelda was closer. She carefully descended behind the tent, trying to not draw attention to herself just yet. Imelda slowly set down her broom and drew her wand.

“I’ve no idea who it is you think I might’ve seen,” the woman said. “I’ve been busy with my research. I do not have time to—”

“Victor Rookwood don’t give a Doxy’s nip ‘bout ‘your time’,” the other man sneered, and Imelda frowned. So they were bothering this woman to try to find her?

Imelda took a deep breath, mustered up some courage, and slowly stepped around the tent and approached them. She despised it when people troubled others to get what they wanted. If they wanted her so badly, then so be it.

The two men saw her, and they were wearing similar outfits of vests over dress shirts, but the bottom half of their faces was covered with a blue mask that had white details of a snake baring its fangs.

“Oi, speak o’ the devil!” The one on the right called out.

The one on the left’s eyes had a cruel shine in them. “Mr. Rookwood would like to have a word with you,” he said.

“Like I’ll just come with you,” she snapped, glaring at them with her wand pointed at them. Her heart was pounding, though, as she kept her facade of nonchalance.

The woman gawked at Imelda, and then she looked at the two men. “A-a student?” She incredulously cried out. She moved to stand in front of Imelda. “You can’t be serious—”

Flames erupted from one of the men’s wands to burn the ground before the woman. Imelda let her fighting instincts kick in, and she shouted, “Depulso!” The man on the right flew back and crashed into a pillared structure. He groaned, but then slumped over, knocked out from the collision.

The other man glared at her, and blocked the woman’s Stupefy. Imelda protected herself from an Incendio from him, and then she casted Stupefy on him. He crumpled to the floor, knocked out as well.

Imelda sighed, but then she sensed more trouble. She whirled around and saw a woman with a red mask designed like the men’s and also black goggles covering her eyes. She wore a black and red overcoat as well as a black top hat with a red trim.

“I’ll watch the light go out of yer eyes,” she spat.

Imelda stared at her before giving her an unamused look. “Isn’t that counterintuitive?” She pointed out. “I thought Rookwood wanted me alive.”

The dark witch wasn’t pleased, and she instantly casted Confringo. Imelda hurriedly jumped and rolled out of the way, but then her eyes widened as a horizontal flash of light came at her. She quickly held up her arm, trying and failing to cast Protego in time. Imelda cried out and then hissed in pain as her arm was cut from Diffindo.

There were two more henchmen that the woman was fighting at the moment. Imelda seethed at the dark witch sauntering, wanting to thoroughly knock her off her high hippogriff. Imelda looked around and saw loose rocks close by. She used her ancient magic and harshly swung a rock at the witch.

She saw it coming and casted the Shield Charm, but the rock broke through it and struck her in the midsection. There was a gasping sound as if the wind was knocked out of her lungs, and Imelda saw more ancient magic glow at the tip of her wand. There was a primal feeling of survival pulsing through her, but her heart plunged as she thought of the witch being struck by lightning like she had done to countless ancient magic statues…

Imelda hastily pointed her wand at the witch and quickly said, “Descendo.” The witch was thrown onto the ground, and the collision made her goggles break. She made a small noise of discomfort, and Imelda didn’t take chances, hurriedly stunning her with Stupefy as well.

The other two the woman dealt with were taken care of, and they were also unconscious on the ground.

“Are you alright, dear?” The woman asked once there was no more trouble.

Imelda nodded, and she checked her arm. She sighed at seeing the blood from the cut. Well, that was going to be annoying to clean up and repair.

“Here, have a Wiggenweld.” The woman held out the healing potion.

“Thanks,” Imelda begrudgingly said before downing the potion. The warmth of the liquid spread to her arm, and she watched the cut close up. The woman then carefully muttered spells, and the blood disappeared from her clothes, and she even repaired the torn sleeves. “Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t mention it,” the woman said. “It’s the least I could do after you helped me deal with those Ashwinders.” Imelda made a mental note to keep that name in mind if she came across more of them. “Care to tell me why they were keen on you?”

I haven’t even told the peers I’m the closest to, Imelda thought, giving her a strange look. Why on earth would I tell a complete stranger? “No,” she promptly answered.

The woman blinked at her blatant response. “W-well, I suppose I should report to local authorities about these Ashwinders,” she said to change the subject. “Then I can go back to my research.”

“Have fun with that,” Imelda muttered before walking to the tent.

“You’re…you’re not the least bit interested in what I’m researching?” The woman sounded so surprised that Imelda wasn’t humoring her.

“No, thank you,” she replied. It didn’t look to involve Quidditch or flying, but also Imelda had only come to help. She wasn’t particularly wanting to know more than needed. Besides, knowing her luck, it was probably something that would be more trouble that it would be worth to her.

“Well, alright. Be safe.”

Imelda nodded and grabbed her broom before mounting and taking off again. She looked at her arm as she flew back to Hogwarts. Even though it was good as new, she couldn’t help but think about what transpired. Before today, Imelda had only fought giant spiders and statues varying from large to humongous. Then there was that troll, but she had help in fighting that. She knew how to fight the spiders and statues because they were redundant in their combat. They were easy to read, but she had never fought other wizards until now…

And she was not the best at duelling. That had to change.

Imelda shook her head at herself. She knew who she should see about improving her duelling skills, and she knew she was going to once again risk some rule-breaking. Not to mention she would have to deal with a matter of pride on her part…

~~~

Sebastian was reading in the common room with his feet propped on the table. The fireplace was still lit with a peacefully crackling fire, and he was comfortable on the sofa.

He was scanning the information of the book he swiped from the restricted section, but then the tip of someone’s wand tapped the top of the book. He sighed, about to come up with something to say to reassure Ominis, but then he looked up. He nearly panicked at seeing it was Imelda, expecting her to lecture him for the umpteenth time.

Instead, she just asked, “You’re the so-called reigning champion of that unsanctioned duelling club, right?”

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow and closed his book, setting it on his lap. He even sat up, pulling his feet off the table. “I am the champion of Crossed Wands, yes,” he corrected.

“Good,” she bluntly replied.

“Why?” He asked, warily eyeing her. Surely she wouldn’t snitch on him and the other members to a professor, right? It wasn’t that illegal of a club.

Imelda then said something he never expected her to say:

“I need you to help me refine my duelling skills.”

Chapter Text

Imelda yelled as she was forced back, crashing into and rolling across the floor. She managed to stop herself, and she panted as she pushed herself off the floor. Her ponytail was almost completely loose, and her robes were messy from dirt and dust of the Clock Tower.

She grunted as she felt her arms ache from exertion while she forced herself to stand back up. She sighed and tried in vain to brush dust off her robes. The multiple times she was scuffled made her become more acquainted with ground than she ever did when she first learned how to fly on the broomstick.

“And this is why I told you to bring that extra set of clothes.”

Imelda glared across the room to see Sebastian nonchalantly standing there with his arms crossed, his appearance completely intact. His hair wasn’t even mussed, and they had been at this for what felt like hours. While he had a confident grin on his face, his eyes didn’t hold any amusement. Instead, there looked to be tentative worry.

“I heeded your advice, did I not?” She impatiently asked as she quickly held her wand in her teeth and fixed her ponytail.

Sebastian shrugged, silently agreeing with her. “But you didn’t heed my advice about using more than control spells,” he said back.

Imelda glared at him and held her wand in her hand again. “What about you? You keep using Confringo like a mental arsonist!”

“Because you keep using control spells!” Sebastian exasperatedly said back. He sighed and put a hand to his head. “You’d think someone that deals with a bunch of strategies in Quidditch plays would know to not be so predictable.”

Imelda’s grip tightened on her wand as she kept glaring at him. “You’d think a son of professors would be better at teaching.”

He frowned and pointed at her with a finger. “I have helped plenty of students with all kinds of subjects, including Defence Against the Dark Arts and duelling, mind you,” he firmly said. “Have you considered that maybe I’m not the one making this hard for you?”

“You think I’m doing this to myself?” Imelda incredulously asked. “That doesn’t make sense!”

“Oh, really?” Sebastian lifted an eyebrow. “You aren’t listening to me when I tell you to try Depulso when I use Confringo, or to use Expelliarmus when I’m using Glacius.”

“Because with the way I have been duelling, I’ve been fine!”

“But you came to me to ‘refine’ your duelling skills!”

“I was thinking you would just spar with me! I didn’t think you’d turn it into lessons!”

Sebastian walked up to her, looking affronted. “Refining means to improve your skills, and frankly, your duelling could use more help.”

“I don’t need a lecture, Sebastian,” she bit out. “I’ve managed to survive a lot of—” She suddenly yelped at feeling a pinching pain on the lobe of her ear. “OW!”

Sebastian grinned, looking far too smug, but he did let go. “I’ve been waiting for years to do that.”

Imelda glared daggers at him as she rubbed her ear. “You’re going to regret that,” she growled.

“I’d like to see you try,” he snidely replied with a hardened gaze.

Imelda gritted her teeth and yelled, “Depulso!”

Sebastian had casted a Shield Charm in time, so he merely slid back and away from her. He then waved his wand. “Levioso!”

Imelda yelped as she was forced to levitate in the air, and then Sebastian sent shots of Basic Casts at her, making her fall onto her back.

“You didn’t even try to dodge!” Sebastian cried out as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Shut it!” She yelled, feeling more irritation rise up in her as she rolled to stand up. She waved her wand. “Diffindo!”

Sebastian quickly side-stepped and then retaliated. “Flipendo!”

Imelda’s instincts finally kicked in, and she tucked and rolled away. The stream of purple light blazed right over where she once stood. She racked her mind, trying to come up with something in return. She went back to her tried-and-true method. “Glacius!”

“Confringo!” Sebastian’s fire ran into Imelda’s ice, and the collision burst into smoky mist.

Imelda quickly got up and tried to use the smokescreen to get an advantage. She felt an erratic pulsing in her arm, and she looked down to see the tip of her wand was glowing the same, menacing pale blue.

I’m not going to smite my housemate, she stubbornly thought to her wand, but it still dangerously glowed, making her start to fear her fight instincts were going to get the better of her and—

She shrieked when she was suddenly pulled forward, and she stumbled on the tip of her toes, falling onto her hands and knees. She sighed, annoyed at herself for being so distracted.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her. “Despite you not doing well in the duels beforehand, I’d mark that one as just Poor. You managed to hold your own until you started to just stare at your wand for no good reason.”

Imelda huffed and got up again, glaring at her wand, which was now back to normal and not glowing with her ancient magic. “You didn’t see it, did you?”

“See what?” He asked, his “instructor” voice now gone to be replaced with one of curiosity.

“Nothing,” she said. Imelda sighed and rubbed her arm, feeling sore from all the vigorous waving she did. “I cannot believe how much exertion is in this,” she muttered.

“Well, it takes a lot to think on your feet, and think effectively for a fight,” Sebastian casually said, but he still sounded suspicious of her.

“It wasn’t like this before with—” Imelda suddenly bit her tongue to keep from spilling information.

But Sebastian was never one to just drop something that was left hanging. His eyebrows furrowed, and he shifted on his feet to face her. “With what?” He frowned. “Imelda, does this have to do with Rookwood and Ranrok?”

“Don’t forget Harlow,” she mumbled under her breath. “And, no… Not exactly.”

“You know you give Slytherins a bad name when you’re a terrible liar, right?”

Imelda rolled her eyes and went over to their bags, picking hers up. She was always upfront and spoke her mind, so she didn’t see a need to lie. Until she apparently had to keep this secret of hers from others like Sebastian and Garreth.

“Alright, this doesn’t make sense, but I’ll ask anyway,” Sebastian said as he came up beside her to grab his own bag. “Does this have to do with Garreth?”

Imelda instantly turned to him, bewildered as her cheeks started to heat up. “What? No! Why would you think that?” She knew she was not helping her case when she responded in such a defensive manner, but she did not like what Sebastian was insinuating.

Sebastian hardly tamped down his teasing grin as he explained, “There’s been talk about yesterday, where you and Garreth were seen walking all over the castle together.” He was now clearly messing with her as he wiggled his eyebrows. “Could it be that there’s a forbidden roma–ah, ah, ow!”

Imelda grabbed his nose with her knuckles this time, keeping her hold tight and making him crouch to be at her height.

“For your information, Sebastian,” she said in a quiet tone so their voices didn’t echo too much in the Clock Tower, “nothing like that is going on. And if you must know, he’s merely helping me with a certain task. Just. Like. You. Are.” She then let go of his nose, and he sighed heavily, reaching up to lightly rub it. She put her hands on her hips and scowled at him. Her face was still red from the teasing, nonetheless. “And you of all people in our house should know better than to assume such a thing.”

Sebastian snorted, but then he winced when the action made his tender nose hurt a little more. He kept rubbing it as he met her eyes. “I thought you were over—”

Imelda hissed loudly to quiet him, blushing even more with a fast beating heart. “Of course not,” she whispered. She looked around to make sure no one was overhearing this.

Sebastian didn’t say anything for a long time, but when Imelda started to leave the Clock Tower, he followed her. He sighed. “Teasing aside, your duelling is decent,” he said.

“You’re grading me now?” She wryly asked as they crossed through the Faculty Tower to get to the Grand Staircase Tower.

“Yes, I am, because Perfectionist-Imelda would want to know how she did.”

Imelda didn’t dignify that with a response, but he was right. She was willing to hear his assessment, even if he didn’t know just how much experience she really had.

Sebastian took her silence as a meaning to continue. “Overall, I’d say you got Poor.”

Imelda felt cold disappointment settle in her stomach. She knew she wasn’t actually graded, and there was no way this would get to her parents, but she had never gotten anything less than an Exceeds Expectations. Maybe an Acceptable every now and then…

“You’ll be fine,” Sebastian commented, and Imelda looked at him with incredulity. He seemed casual about the idea of her not doing well. “It’s not like you’ll really need to rely on your duelling skills outside of class.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Right?”

Imelda flushed, knowing he was trying to get her to slip-up. Even worse, she was awful at lying, so denying anything would confirm his suspicions. She was in a lose-lose situation. “Why does it matter to you?”

“If you’re caught up in more trouble than you should, you don’t have to be,” he said back. “Especially if it involves dark wizards like Rookwood and Harlow.” He glared straight ahead with his jaw clenching as they took the descending stairs to the dungeons. “Not to mention Ranrok…”

Imelda gave him a strange look. “Do you have a problem with goblins?” She asked.

His fury subsided as he looked back at her. “Why does it matter to you?” He asked back, his voice changing to sound more uptight like hers.

She rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. She swallowed and felt out of her element when she muttered, “Thank you, by the way.”

“I’m always happy to duel,” he said, his voice back to being carefree. “Especially if it means I get to beat you and make sure you don’t get too arrogant.”

“Ha, ha,” she dryly said, and he chuckled. “Well, good thing my ‘arrogance’ will be back to normal with Flying Class tomorrow.” She couldn’t deny the excitement in her voice. Flying Class was of course one of her favorite classes in Hogwarts, and she loved learning from Madam Kogawa.

Sebastian shook his head. “Still on about Quidditch and flying, I see,” he muttered.

“I’m merely excited for this class like you are about Defence Against the Dark Arts,” she defensively said. She then looked away, feeling embarrassed. “I…am starting to think that it’s time I cared about more than Quidditch and the like…”

Sebastian stared at her for a while, and soon they were nearing the Slytherin entrance. She jolted when she felt a pat on her back. She looked up at him, and he grinned at her. “It’s about bloody time,” he said.

Imelda huffed, but she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed this camaraderie with Sebastian. He was like a brother she never had. She fought a smile as she added, “I’m not always an Ice Queen, you know.”

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “Does that mean you’ll finally tell me what happened at Hogs—?”

“No.”

Sebastian sighed. “You’re still no fun…”

“Look,” she said, turning to him. He had a childish pout, and she hesitated before patting his shoulder. He now looked confused, and she felt even weirder because she was not used to giving any kind of physical affection. She cleared her throat. “I…might tell you and Ominis, but it’s a lot, and I’m not used to confiding in anyone. I’m used to being alone.”

“You never had to be alone,” he pointed out.

Imelda looked away and pulled away her hand. “It was easier that way…”

“Easier for whom?”

Imelda hesitated, feeling like she already knew that answer. “You saw how I was with Nerida.”

“That was years ago,” he sighed. “We’ve all grown up.”

“Some of us more than others.” Imelda rubbed her arm. “That’s how it is, though, Sebastian. I’ve always been on my own, and the thought of that changing…” She didn’t dare admit how terrifying it was to her. She still believed Garreth must think less of her when she foolishly revealed her fear of spiders. Then how he took pity on her…

Sebastian shook his head. “I could never understand,” he muttered.

“I know. You have Ominis.”

His eyes flashed with hurt and anger. “And Anne,” he firmly added.

She swallowed, feeling her heart painfully tighten at forgetting for a second about his sister. She forgot because Anne wasn’t here at Hogwarts. “You’re right. And Anne,” she amended.

He huffed, now upset. “Everyone already seems to be thinking she’s—” He stopped and scrunched his eyes closed with furrowed eyebrows and a deep frown.

Imelda was starting to comprehend how much Anne’s condition was weighing on him. Not only that, but…it sounded far more concerning than she assumed.

Imelda couldn’t believe she was saying this, but… “Could I visit her someday?”

Sebastian looked at her, perplexed.

“What? I know I haven’t been close to her, but surely she’d like some company, right?” She asked, feeling downright annoyed about people thinking she couldn’t possibly ever care about anything other than brooms and Quidditch.

“She would like that,” he said thoughtfully. He then grinned and playfully added, “Even if it’s just you.”

“I’m not afraid to grab your ear again.”

“I’ll write to her and see what she says,” he said, cautiously walking away from her to say the password for the entrance. “Also, we’re going to have to find somewhere else to practice more duelling. Crossed Wands will be doing matches throughout the week.” He smirked. “Unless…”

“It’s unsanctioned, I’m not going to participate,” she instantly said.

“I have a feeling some professors know about the club, but if you don’t want to really break rules and be a no-fun person, then so be it.”

Imelda stifled a laugh at his jest. If only you knew, she thought as she knew Garreth was still working on the first step to brewing the Polyjuice. Which reminded her…during Flying Class tomorrow, she should check with him.

~~~

“I appreciate your concern about how it’s going, but I assure you, this is one of the simplest tasks in potion brewing,” Garreth told her with a grin.

Imelda eyed him turning his Wild Fire broom in his hand, seeing how casually he was treating it. They were outside, waiting for Madam Kogawa to start the lesson. She could sense the curious looks from Sebastian and even Larson, who were both practically on the other side of the lines of students. She had a feeling Larson was the one that talked to Sebastian about her and Garreth, considering the three were comrades throughout the years. So she could only imagine what they were talking about at the moment.

“It’s also only been a day,” Garreth pointed out as he kept his voice low enough for her to hear. “If I somehow messed up stewing lacewing flies after just a day, I wouldn’t be the potioneer you know today.”

“And…where you’re brewing it…” She tentatively said out of the corner of her mouth. “No one will find it?”

Garreth chuckled and gave her an amused and confident look. “I doubt even my aunt could find it, if she had ever caught wind of what we’re doing.”

Imelda nodded, feeling a little more relieved. Their secret could remain as that, and none would be the wiser. The chances of them being caught and being suspended or even expelled were slim. Her record would still be perfect, and she would still look appealing for any professional Quidditch teams.

She stopped that line of thought, and she cleared her throat. “Good.”

“I’m surprised you’re not trying to ask where this place is,” Garreth said.

“You have your secrets, I have mine,” she reasoned, ignoring the part of her that was screaming for answers. “We don’t have to share them if we don’t want to.”

“Right, like whatever you got yourself into with Rookwood and the others,” he muttered.

Imelda frowned at hearing his bitter tone, and she glanced at him to see he was glaring at the ground. He was nearly acting the same as Sebastian, but Sebastian seemed to have spoken with more hatred. “Is this personal to you?” She curiously asked.

Garreth blinked, and his glare was gone, but he looked at her with sincerity before looking away again. “I just didn’t like how keen he was on you,” he muttered. “If you’re in trouble with them…”

“I can handle myself,” she replied, offended that he thought she was helpless.

“Don’t misunderstand, Imelda,” he said back, now turning to face her. “You might be able to handle things on your own, but you don’t always have to.”

Imelda supposed that was true, and she had thought about that. But like she told Sebastian, she wasn’t used to relying on others. This year was different, though. Even she could tell she was acting differently, like how she agreed to help Onai and asked to visit Anne. She hardly cared about others around her in the past, and it was about “bloody time” (as Sebastian put it) that changed.

She met Garreth’s earnest gaze, and she wondered… Would it be that awful if she did open up to someone? Especially since it seemed she had more on her plate than mere trials?

Imelda couldn’t think of what to say, and it was for the best, as Kogawa blew her whistle to quiet everyone. Everyone fiddling with their brooms (Garreth included) put them back on the ground.

“Welcome back to another year,” she proclaimed. She started to walk down the aisle between the two rows of students. Imelda stood at attention when Kogawa walked closer with the instructor’s cape billowing behind her. Imelda could see the barely restrained look of ire in Kogawa’s eyes. “While…Headmaster Black has cancelled Quidditch season,” she managed to say without too much anger, “you all should keep up with your skills on your brooms. Even a school year is a long enough time to drastically ruin progress you have made for the past four years.” She kept walking, going past Imelda and others. “Now, considering this is the first class after summer, we shall have a refresher course. I trust you all should be able to have your broom come to your hand after saying ‘up’ once.”

She went to the other end, and gestured for them. “Go ahead and do so. Mount your broom and wait on my count.”

Imelda held her hand over her Night Dancer, and merely muttered, “Up.” She heard a few of her classmates have to speak loudly in order for their brooms to fly to their hands.

Her broom instantly flew up, and she caught it before deftly swinging her leg over it. She let out a deep breath, feeling so much better like she always did when she was on her broom. It was like she was at home, and she felt the stress from the past few days just fall off her shoulders.

“Up,” Garreth said, a little louder than when she said it, but not by much. His Wild Fire broom came to him, and he mounted it with a sigh. “Seems like Kogawa is just as upset as you about no Quidditch,” he added as they waited for everyone else to mount their brooms.

“She always appreciates students that are as passionate about Quidditch as her,” Imelda pointed out with nonchalance. But she felt proud that Kogawa could always recognize her talent and prowess with the broom and the sport.

“Like you and Cooper,” he said, and Imelda was confused as she heard that same hollow tone he had when he mentioned Isaac the last time.

“Yes,” she confirmed anyway.

“Now that everyone is on their brooms,” Kogawa called out as she walked down the aisle again, “wait until I blow the whistle, and you can practice flying around the grounds on this side of the castle.” She stood beside her broom, and simply had her hand over her Yew Weaver, and it flew straight up a second after. She mounted it and bowed her head as thanks in respect to her broom. She then took out the whistle and blew it, a high-pitched trill sounding.

Imelda instantly took off, ascending high in the sky to where she was at the same height as the tops of the Bell Tower. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply the crisp, fresh air. Leisure Flying Classes were usually too boring for her as she liked to practice maneuvers and try new moves. After the week she had, though, she was fine with having a relaxing session.

Imelda smiled to herself and veered down, suddenly diving. She blazed past a few of her classmates with the wind whistling in her ears and through her hair. The ground kept getting closer, but Imelda wasn’t afraid in the slightest. At the last possible second, she pulled up while leaning close to her broom. She felt the swoop in her stomach as she kept sharply ascending, exhilarated from the sensation.

When her momentum started to decelerate, she leveled off around the same elevation that she started at. She sighed, feeling far better after such a rush. She looked down to check on her other classmates. Oggspire was easily standing on her broom as if she were surfing on it, having quite the audience around her to watch and even clap. Clopton was doing loop-the-loops, but his reckless stunts had Kogawa fly over and lecture him.

Sebastian seemed to be hovering low to the ground near Ominis, who was sitting on the lawn and snacking on an apple. Imelda remembered that not long after their first year started, Professor Black had given Kogawa special orders to not have Ominis fly as the “young Mr. Gaunt could be harmed from his own hindrance”. It might have sounded altruistic if Ominis didn’t darkly mutter that he wasn’t completely helpless. That told Imelda that Black did this without Ominis’s request, probably to make himself look good to Ominis’s parents. Even so, Ominis seemed to not mind putting himself at risk with riding a broom.

She saw that Garreth was flying up to her, and when he was a little higher and in front of her, he spun to hold onto his broom while upside-down. The Sloth Grip Roll. Imelda was impressed, but she was wondering why he was even here.

“Did you come up here to just show that maneuver?” Imelda asked with a raised eyebrow.

He grinned at her, his wavy hair falling and showing more of his freckled face. “I also like seeing your reaction,” he answered.

Her eyebrow went higher. “Because I’m me?” She dryly asked.

“Precisely,” he said as if it were obvious. “But also…” He spun to sit right-side up, his hair back to normal and resting on the right side of his face. “I realized something.”

She frowned, a bit confused. “What?” What could Garreth have realized in the short amount of time since they talked? Was it something to do with Isaac, who Garreth seemed to act differently about?

“I was thinking that maybe no Quidditch this year is a good thing.” Imelda frowned even more, and Garreth started to hold up a hand. “Hear me out.”

“This is just like when you said there was more to life than school and Quidditch in our third year,” she bitterly pointed out.

Garreth rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze. “Ah, so you do remember that…” He cleared his throat. “But you’re also right that it was the same with me about my potion work.” He made eye contact with her this time, and he had a solemn expression on his face. “I was thinking that this year will help us see more than our main passions.”

Imelda didn’t miss the fact he said “us” instead of “you”. Did he also wonder if his obsession with his potions caused him to block out other things that could matter? But he had other friends; she had seen him with his fellow Gryffindors and other students in their year. How could he be similar to her when he was so unlike her?

And yet…she thought she recognized something in his sea green eyes. Perhaps she could see it because it took one to know one. All this time of brief conversations with him in the past, and it was only now that she considered that maybe they were more similar than she had first thought. Sure, they were both good Quidditch players, but…there was more to both of them than that.

“Maybe you’re onto something,” she merely said, having not looked away from his gaze just yet.

A smile started to slowly spread on his face. “Perhaps we can find out together?” He offered.

Imelda now saw what he was proposing. He was offering something akin to a partnership, but it was probably more of a friendship. Even though she still felt an instinctive fear, it was not as noticeable as it had happened before. Maybe because she was starting to warm up to being friends with Sebastian and Ominis, or maybe because something in the way Garreth regarded her made her feel…secure.

Why did that terrify her more?

Kogawa’s trilling whistle burst her thoughtful bubble, and she blinked before looking down to see their classmates already descending. She flushed and looked back at Garreth, who was still patiently and expectantly waiting for an answer.

“I won’t say no,” she eventually said before steering her broom away to easily dive down. Imelda didn’t think she minded the idea of having some sort of…friendship with Garreth. Especially when she felt curious about what she saw at that moment. Was it possible that he, too, hid behind walls of some sort even though he was approachable?

Imelda landed near the front of the class and dismounted in one fell swoop. She looked behind to see Garreth landed next to his friends, Prewett, Onai, and Oggspire. He met her eyes again and gave her a quick smile. She turned back to the front as Kogawa gave her final remarks about keeping up with practice on their own time.

Once Kogawa dismissed them, Sebastian and Ominis came up to her.

“I wrote to Anne this morning,” Sebastian told her while casually crossing his arms. “If she wants, you can come with me to visit her this weekend.”

“Good,” Imelda said. She felt a bout of jitters in her stomach. She had not talked to many girls her age, least of all Anne. She knew she wanted to see her and give her company, but…how could she give Anne company?

“I was curious when Sebastian told me you wanted to see Anne,” Ominis piped up. He tilted his head in Imelda’s direction, his pale blue eyes full of astonishment.

“I figured it was about time to…try to talk to more of my housemates,” Imelda admitted in a mutter.

Sebastian chuckled and nudged Ominis with his elbow. “I told you so,” he playfully told his surprised friend.

Imelda rolled her eyes. “It’s not the end of the world for me to try to reach out, is it?” She demanded the two.

“No, but it is a welcome surprise,” Ominis mused. “Anne would appreciate more people visiting her, I’m sure.” He then cracked a smile. “Even if the visitor was the same girl that pulled her hair when Anne tried to ride your broom.”

Imelda instinctively held her broom closer to herself. “Well, she should have known better than to try such a thing,” she defensively mumbled, flushing when Ominis and Sebastian chuckled. “Does she hold that against me?”

“No,” Sebastian laughed. “We were kids, then. And that was when we all learned the valuable lesson to not mess with Imelda and her broom.”

“You’re right about that,” she muttered, looking at her prized possession in her hand.

“She likes fudge flies and Gobstones,” Ominis added.

Imelda looked up and saw the understanding look in his eyes. She was relieved to have some idea of Anne’s interests. Now she could figure out something to get her before she went to Feldcroft.

“Thank you, I’ll certainly use that information,” she said. Sebastian grinned, looking pleased to see Imelda trying to be more considerate about his sister. “Ominis, you’re not coming?”

Ominis shook his head. “I unfortunately have to stay.” He frowned, and a shadow came upon his face. “Professor Black and I have mandatory tea once every month.”

“Why?” Imelda asked.

“Because he has to keep fawning over me to gain appeal for my parents,” he explained. He clicked his tongue, obviously irked to the bone. “As if what I say matters to my parents… I hadn’t even been in the same room as them since—” A pained expression came on his face for a second before it was smoothed away to a blank mask. “...Black doesn’t seem to care, though. I am guessing he merely wants to claim he is close to an ‘Heir of Slytherin’.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Does he think you’ll add him to your will or something when you die?” He asked.

“I think it has something to do with him believing I’m easier to deceive because I’m blind,” Ominis bluntly theorized. “Therefore, he believes he can get away with lying through his teeth. Or so he thinks.”

Sebastian shook his head. He was used to this asinine schedule Black put Ominis in for the last year or so, but he was still dumbfounded by it.

“I’ll be sure to tell Anne you said ‘hi’,” he reassured him with a pat on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said with a nod. “Hopefully, I can visit next time.”

“Ms. Reyes,” Kogawa called, and Imelda turned to see her there with—her stomach flipped with excited nerves—Isaac. Kogawa beckoned her over, and Imelda waved to Sebastian and Ominis before walking over to the two of them. Kogawa still had her usual nonchalant expression, but she had a fond gleam in her eyes.

“Mr. Cooper told me about the idea you two came up with about time trials,” she explained.

Imelda nodded, and she felt her stomach be full of Snitches as Isaac smiled at her. “That’s correct,” she replied. “I already talked to Albie Weekes, and he would be delighted to work with us for broom modifications.”

“Considering our headmaster only cancelled Quidditch, I see this as a temporary loophole for extracurricular flying practice,” Kogawa mused.

“Temporary?” Imelda echoed.

Kogawa nodded, a look of fierce determination now showing. “I intend to see Professor Black and try to change his mind. With any luck, we can have Quidditch back before the first term is over.”

“If anyone can do it, you can, Madam Kogawa,” Isaac confidently told her.

“We shall see. In the meantime, Mr. Cooper and I will prepare the time trials.” Kogawa gestured to Imelda. “I believe you have a class to get to, as well.”

“Right,” Imelda said, but she wished she had as much free time as a seventh-year like Isaac.

“As do I, but after classes, I look forward to seeing you on the Pitch.” Kogawa gave her a small smile, and Imelda’s heart swelled with pride. She always savored the respect she earned from the Flying Instructor. It was an honor, considering Kogawa nearly became a player for the Toyohashi Tengu.

Kogawa left Isaac and Imelda alone to check on the school brooms. Imelda tightened her grip on her broom, feeling more nervous now.

Isaac broke the silence. “So, I heard you had some excitement at Hogsmeade,” he mused.

Imelda shrugged, blushing at the inquisitive look in his green eyes. “Er, just a troll that seemed to have wandered into Hogsmeade to wreak havoc.”

“Well, I had never thought you would be so capable of taking down a fully-grown troll!” Isaac said, and he smiled more, making Imelda blush more. “You still amaze me, Imelda,” he added with fondness.

Imelda felt like her heart stopped beating when he gently patted her head like he had before. “E-er…” She wondered how catastrophic it would be if she just told Isaac about her fancying him, but she feared she would mess it up.

“Anyway, I look forward to doing those time trials with you!” Isaac said with a grin. “Purus seems to have recovered from his wounded ego, so he will probably join us! I’ll see if we can get more participants.”

“Oh, good,” she numbly said. She had kind of hoped this time trial would just be something for the two of them…

Isaac then pulled her into a one-armed hug. Imelda felt so warm head-to-toe as she took in the spicy scent of cinnamon. She knew Isaac was affectionate with her like this before, but…could it mean that he did feel the same as her? “Just think: we could be back to Quidditch soon enough!”

“That’s the hope,” she replied, but she felt odd at the idea. Maybe it was because of everything going on, or…maybe the talk she and Garreth had made her consider how much she really wanted Quidditch to come back.

On the spur of the moment, she looked around and saw Garreth hadn’t left the Flying Class Lawn yet. He was near Larson and Prewett, and he had a blank expression on his face before he looked down at his feet. He seemed almost troubled, but why would he be?

“Ah, I would be a horrible upperclassman to make you late for your next class,” Isaac said as he removed his arm from around her and stepped away. She swallowed hard, still feeling greatly flustered. He still had on his bright grin. “Have a good day, Imelda! I shall let you know right away when Kogawa and I have the time trials ready.”

“You better,” she said, smiling a bit as he laughed merrily. “I’ll see you around.” He waved, and she started walking through the Flying Class Lawn, heading for her next class, which was Beasts.

Up ahead, she saw Larson, Prewett, and Garreth walking in front of her, with Garreth in between the two other boys. Larson said something, and Garreth turned to him with a remark, his ears redder than just because of the cold. Prewett then added something, and Garreth shoved his shoulder hard, making Prewett stumble to regain his footing. Larson sighed and shook his head, but didn’t say anything, finding it better to stay quiet.

Imelda was puzzled by the sight, but she moved on, continuing to follow them to their shared Beasts class.

Boys were something she would never understand.

Chapter Text

Imelda wasn’t that fond of animals. She had grown up with labrador retrievers in her home, sure, but Beasts class focused on magical creatures. Still, when it was third year, she had to choose two electives. She didn’t care for Divination as she didn’t believe in the craft of it. Was she also biased because she knew Rackham was a Seer and she wasn’t a fan of him? Perhaps.

Regardless, she chose Beasts class and Ancient Runes. Ancient Runes was something she took as she wondered if she would find ancient magic in runes or something else that only she could see. So far, she hadn’t come across anything like that, but she didn’t mind the class. She was no Ravenclaw, but she was still decent at it. As long as she had Exceeds Expectations at the end of the year, that was fine with her.

Imelda looked around for a spare spot to sit at. There were two rows of tables, and the three in the back were already paired up. At the front, Garreth and Larson had a table on the left and Dale and Oakes had a table on the right. However, at the middle table was Sweeting, holding a Puffskein in her hands. Imelda shrugged and walked over to sit at the stool to the left of Sweeting.

Sweeting instantly noticed her and looked at her. “Reyes?” She asked with surprise as she watched Imelda set down her broom and take off her school bag.

“Sweeting,” she politely greeted back as she rested her chin on her hand. She looked at the Hufflepuff in the corner of her eye. “I hope you don’t mind me taking this spot.”

“Er, no, of course not,” Sweeting replied. She settled on her stool, idly petting the top of the Puffskein. “I was just not expecting you to pair up with me.”

Imelda’s eyebrows twitched as she thought she heard a self-deprecating tone from Sweeting. She had never really interacted with Sweeting before. They might have paired up in Beasts class or other ones before, but it was just them being cordial with each other and getting the work done. Imelda had heard whispers in the school calling her “Peculiar Poppy”, but she never called her that herself. She was personally familiar with the sting that came from mocking monikers. She also never thought Sweeting was “peculiar”. There was a rumor that Sweeting already befriended Hippogriffs that were spotted in the Forbidden Forest, but Imelda didn’t put much merit in it. Students weren’t supposed to be in the Forbidden Forest. She was choosing to exclude herself out of the general title of “students”, as she was a…special case.

“Good morning, class,” Professor Howin called out, wearing her usual gear of apron, gloves, and woven, lopsided hat. “Today, we will have our first class of the year begin with a review of Puffskeins.” She held up a finger, giving them a stern look. “No magic required; just a brush and beast feed.”

Imelda wanted to roll her eyes at hearing some groans behind her. She was attached to her wand like any witch or wizard of course, but she could stand to not have it for a while.

“Well, would you like to feed or brush Gerald?” Sweeting asked.

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed, and she looked at the Puffskein and then at Sweeting. “Gerald?” She echoed in more of an incredulous tone than she intended.

Sweeting lifted her chin and looked rather defiant despite the sheepish blush on her cheeks. “That’s right. His name is Gerald,” she affirmed.

Imelda should have known Sweeting would name the creatures. She had heard that Sweeting was an unofficial assistant of Professor Howin since their third year. Imelda cleared her throat and reached into her bag.

“I’ll brush Gerald,” she simply said. She took out her beast brush, and she saw Sweeting staring at her again. Imelda tried to not be annoyed. She was starting to recognize the look of complete shock from something she did. “What?”

Sweeting looked at her with a hint of guilt. “I…well, I didn’t expect you to quickly adapt and call Gerald by his name,” she quietly explained.

Imelda rolled her eyes this time. “You named an animal like he’s your pet,” she bluntly reasoned as she started to carefully brush the Puffskein. “It would be like suddenly calling my family’s retrievers ‘dogs’ even though I know their names are Réalta and Luna.”

“I didn’t know you had dogs,” Sweeting mused as she watched closely how Imelda was brushing Gerald. Was she checking to make sure Imelda didn’t mess up? How could she mess up brushing an animal?

“They’re technically my father’s,” Imelda said. She felt fond nostalgia as she remembered spending summers gallivanting the Reyes estate on her broom while the dogs followed her from below. “I don’t really play with them or anything, but they’re loyal and protective if need be.”

“Animals treated well by people usually are,” Sweeting confidently replied. She tilted her head at Imelda, her eyes still on Imelda’s hand that was doing the brushing.

Imelda felt an irritation spike in the back of her mind, almost as if it were a headache. She put down her brush and looked at Sweeting. “What?”

Sweeting winced at her impatient tone. “Sorry,” she sheepishly said. “I’m just…” She let out a long breath. “I wanted to make sure Gerald was alright.”

“Why wouldn’t he be? I’m just brushing,” Imelda stiffly replied.

The Hufflepuff gave her a knowing look. “Puffskeins have sensitive skin under their thick fur. If you don’t brush well, you can cause them discomfort.”

Imelda blinked, surprised by her reasoning. She averted her gaze back to the Puffskein and slowly brushed him some more. She was now being self-conscious about how gently she was brushing him.

“You seem to know the animals well,” Imelda muttered.

“Thank you,” Sweeting said, and Imelda glanced at her. She looked proud in what she took as a compliment instead of an observant. “Though, I will disagree on your analogy from earlier.”

Imelda was sure she brushed every part as best she could, and she put her brush down for good this time. “What do you mean?”

Sweeting got her container of beast feed and took a few pellets out. She tossed them into the air, and the pellets magically floated in the air. Gerald’s long tongue quickly wrapped around each pellet and brought it to his mouth to munch on it. Then he would go to the next pellet.

Sweeting watched him with a fond smile before facing Imelda. “I don’t see them as my pets. I see them as my friends.” She then reached out and patted the top of Geralda’s head, and he nuzzled closer to her. “They’ve been trustworthy enough for me to call them my friends. Not to mention they have innocent, gentle souls. Which I cannot say most humans have.”

Imelda caught the despondent tone from the last sentence. She was now understanding why she never saw Sweeting in the same premises as her. Sure, they shared classes and worked with each other, but once it was done, they’d go their separate ways. Sweeting was never on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, so Imelda thought she didn’t care for the sport. Sebastian never mentioned Sweeting in the unsanctioned Crossed Wands club either. In hindsight, Imelda was certain she had barely seen Sweeting in Hogsmeade, even. Definitely not in the Three Broomsticks.

Before Imelda could delve further into this insight, Howin called for everyone’s attention.

“All of your Puffskeins seem to be taken care of very well, good job to all of you,” she commended. “For the rest of class, you are welcome to visit the Diricawl and Kneazle pens and get to know them better as well.”

Imelda thought she heard scoffing behind her, but she was more focused on the thoughtful gleam she caught in Garreth’s eyes. She took her brush and put it back in her bag and held her broom in one hand before curiously following Garreth and Andrew to the Diricawl pen.

“I do not think Professor Howin would tolerate freelance resource gathering,” Larson remarked.

“I just need a feather,” Garreth implored. “I know you’re better with animals than I am.” He turned to his mate and looked at him with big, mooncalf eyes. “Please, Andrew?”

Imelda nearly snorted as she saw how conflicted Larson was. Was Garreth really that convincing to do what he requests?

Larson sighed, conceding. “Alright, fine,” he mumbled. He knelt down and took out beast feed, reaching through the fence. One of the white birds curiously came over, eagerly eating out of his hand. Garreth bounced on the heels of his feet as he leaned his hands on the top of the fence. He was clearly waiting for the right time to swipe a feather from the bird.

Imelda slowly crept closer and crossed her arms, watching the two with an arched eyebrow. Garreth started to bend over the fence, reaching down for the bird.

“I thought you already had a feather,” she stated.

Garreth yelled and jumped a foot in the air, scrambling to regain balance from being startled. His loud reaction made Andrew jolt and bump his head against the pen’s fence, and the Diricawls were equally startled, a few instantly turning invisible.

Garreth groaned and hung his head in defeat before turning to Imelda with a frown. Larson got onto his feet, rubbing his head.

Imelda frowned back at Garreth. “Why do you need a Diricawl feather now?” Was her effort to get a Fwooper feather for him not enough? Did he not even need it, and he just wanted to see her go through hoops for him?

He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets, looking like a scolded child. “I was running low on my safekeep of potion ingredients,” he admitted in a mumble.

Imelda’s eyebrow went higher, still feeling wary. She was coming around to possibly trusting him more, but if he didn’t appreciate the Fwooper feather she got for— Why did she care so much for him to appreciate it?

“What about the Fwooper feather?” She tentatively asked. “Did you even need that, or—?”

Garreth instantly lifted his head at that, his eyes flashing with worry. “No, no, I did! Truly!” He hurriedly reassured with his hands up as if to placate her. “I haven’t used it yet, but I intend to. I can promise you that.”

Imelda stared at him for a moment, seeing how earnest he looked. He seemed to really want to make sure she didn’t get the wrong idea. She admittedly was, but now…a strange warmth of comfort went through her. Was she really that relieved?

She forced away her confusing thoughts and focused back on the Diricawls. “Still…were you planning to just pluck some feathers off its tail?” Maybe Sweeting’s compassion and love for animals got to her, because she then added, “There has to be a gentle way to retrieve such a resource.”

Garreth tilted his head at her, now very curiously looking her up and down. She faintly blushed from his gaze, but she tried to keep a straight face to show nonchalance. “I suppose you’re right,” he eventually said. He rubbed the back of his head. “I certainly don’t want to harm any creatures. I’m not some poaching pr—”

He stopped as he saw something over Imelda’s shoulder. He started to scowl, and then they heard Sweeting exclaim:

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

Imelda whirled around and saw Poppy at the Kneazle pen with two students, a Slytherin and Ravenclaw, already there. A quick glance at a disgruntled Kneazle and knowing Sweeting’s care for animals told Imelda what must have happened.

The freckled Slytherin scoffed. “Tsk, tsk, Peculiar Poppy,” he snided. “Worried about a worthless little rodent?”

Imelda gritted her teeth as she saw Sweetings’s ears turn red from the name, but the Hufflepuff stood her ground. “Her name is Persephone!” She reprimanded while putting her hands on her hips.

The Slytherin laughed sardonically, and Imelda had enough. She went right over there as he mockingly said, “‘Her name is Persephon—eee! Ah, ow!”

Imelda dug her fingernails into the boy’s ear as she pinched it, glaring at him. “You’re one to talk for names, aren’t you, Hamish?” She scathingly asked. He hissed as she forced him to crouch when she pulled his ear down. “Bulstrode on top of that too.”

She lessened her grip a smidge, no longer using her fingernails, but still keeping a hold on his ear. “Stop the mocking,” she grumbled, not needing to threaten further.

Imelda then let go, and he instantly moved away, covering his ear with hand. He glared daggers at Imelda, and she glared back. He took a step closer to her, but she wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. She had dealt with worse than an arrogant prick.

Hamish then looked to his right, and he reluctantly backed off. “Let’s go,” he muttered to his Ravenclaw friend, and they walked away.

Imelda saw what made him leave: Professor Howin. She felt unnerved by the reprimanding look in Howin’s eyes, and even worried that her act of “justice” would land her in detention.

Instead, Howin merely looked away. Imelda let out a small sigh of relief. She slowly turned around and noticed that Garreth and Larson had gotten closer, probably to help. Larson owlishly blinked, completely flabbergasted. Garreth, however, looked…enthralled by her? His mouth was agape with an astonished smile, and the look in his eyes made Imelda feel gratified in a way.

She didn’t know why, and she averted her gaze from the two as Sweeting got up from kneeling on the ground.

“Persephone is fine,” she said with a sigh. She frowned in the direction of Hamish and his friend. “Those two don’t belong anywhere near this class. Poachers-in-training. Persephone was onto them.” She looked up at Imelda and gave her a tiny smile. “Thank you, by the way, for stepping in so I didn’t have to.”

Imelda shrugged. “I might not care for animals as much as you do, but I do not tolerate such behavior.” She huffed and crossed her arms. “Especially when it’s someone in my own house.”

Sweeting stared at her with an indiscernible look in her brown eyes. “I must say, Imelda”—the mentioned Slytherin’s eyebrows rose at being addressed as such—“you are certainly not who I perceived you to be.”

“A one-track-minded-Quidditch-fanatic?” Imelda dryly asked, feeling hollow at the truth in the label.

Poppy chuckled. “Something like that,” she admitted.

“At least you’re honest,” Imelda replied as she leaned on one leg.

“And you’re an Augurey at noon in the desert,” Poppy easily said back.

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to process what she heard. She really should pay more attention in Beasts class. If she did, she might have remembered the significance of an Augury in a desert. “Come again?”

Poppy merely smiled. “It’s something my gran and I say. It means something or someone is a welcome surprise.”

“Oh.” Imelda lightly scoffed. “That seems to be what people have been thinking of me recently.” She looked down at the ground. “At least it’s better than what people have thought of me in the past,” she added under her breath.

Whether or not Poppy heard that, she still looked at Imelda with Hufflepuff sympathy. “I suppose we might be more similar to each other than we thought,” she mused.

Imelda looked back at Poppy. “Maybe,” she said. They both were used to peers talking behind their backs in an unsavory tone, with tasteful nicknames at that.

Poppy tilted her head, considering something. “You know, I’d like you to meet someone,” she thoughtfully said. She didn’t elaborate more and started walking on a path that snaked around the Beasts class and went up the nearby hill.

Imelda stared at the wandering Hufflepuff, and then sighed at the curiosity tingling in the back of her mind. She started to follow after Poppy at a quickened pace to catch up to her.

Garreth watched her leave with a half-smile on his face. Andrew looked back and forth between Imelda and Garreth.

“Are you…that impressed with what she did?” Andrew asked. He knew about Imelda reprimanding people with a pinch in the ear, but he was thankfully never a recipient of such behavior. The way Garreth reacted, though, it seemed like he enjoyed it when Imelda put someone in their place.

Garreth nodded, his eyes alight with great interest for a specific Slytherin. “She’s certainly beguiling, wouldn’t you say?” He asked back as he looked at his friend.

“Beguiling in…which way?” They started to head back to their table to grab their school bags. “As a friend or…?”

“Of course I mean it as a friend,” Garreth replied like there was no other possible answer.

Andrew paused from shouldering his bag, trying to understand his friend. “Wait…” He turned to him, and Leander was even coming up to regroup with the two. “You’re telling me that you’re so fascinated with Reyes—even upset about Isaac Cooper—as a friend?”

Garreth gave him a weird look. “Of course,” he answered. “Just something about her…” He trailed off with a thoughtful expression. “If I could be her friend, a confidant, I would be happy.” He grinned at his friends. “I think we would make a good team.”

He walked between the two stunned peers and started to head back to the castle. Andrew stared at his retreating form, and he looked at Leander. “Please tell me that he could not possibly be this thick.” One did not look at a friend like how Garreth would look at Reyes.

Leander sighed heavily as they started to trail after Garreth. “I’ve been his best mate for the past five years,” he muttered. “I know he can be oblivious to things.”

“Surely—”

“He still doesn’t know that Pinch-Smedly fancied him since fourth year.”

Andrew’s jaw dropped. That Slytherin girl drove him mad when he saw how obvious she was being with her interest in his Gryffindor friend. Everyone could see, even Gaunt, that she had quite the crush on Garreth. How in the world did Garreth not know?! He couldn’t fathom being that oblivious…

“How can one not be perceptive about his own feelings?” Andrew mumbled.

“Once Garreth figures it out, ask him,” Leander said.

Garreth didn’t hear any of this, and his eyes narrowed at seeing that Slytherin prat, Bulstrode, further up ahead. Bulstrode was still with his Ravenclaw friend, but he looked in the direction Poppy and Imelda went off to.

He frowned, having a bad feeling that Bulstrode wasn’t going to simply let go of what Imelda did to him…

~~~

Imelda was starting to wonder what kind of friend Poppy had to require them to be pretty far from the Beasts class. She jogged as they went down a gradual slope, with the Hogwarts castle to their left across part of the Black Lake. They had even crossed a little bridge that went over a stream that broke off from the Black Lake.

Knowing Poppy, Imelda could guess that her friend was an animal of some kind. They were close to the Forbidden Forest that was all outside the southern and western perimeters of the Hogwarts terrain. Imelda felt cold dread as she thought about what kinds of creatures prowled the Forbidden Forest: dugbogs, mongrels…giant spiders… Poppy certainly wouldn’t—

“Poppy, what kind of animal friend is this?” Imelda asked, on edge.

“You’ll like her,” Poppy reassured. “She’s very noble and just.”

Imelda only felt a little reassured by that. Even Poppy wouldn’t call a giant spider “noble and just”, right?

Poppy slowed down as they got to a clearing that had long grass and a few dandelions and flowers growing there. In the distance, Imelda could see the precariously-built bridge that led to the southern exit of Hogwarts.

“Stand back,” Poppy quietly requested with a hand out to stop Imelda from going further. She then whistled a short tune and waited.

A couple seconds passed, and Imelda strained her ears to hear something bound its way to them. Then suddenly, there was a bird squawk, and Imelda whirled around to gape at a white Hippogriff flying in a wide circle toward them. The Hippogriff flapped its wings as it descended to the clearing in front of them. From its momentum, it even trotted on its talons and hooves before coming to a stop near Poppy. The Hippogriff ducked its head, and Poppy softly laughed as she leaned her forehead against the animal’s.

She looked at Imelda with a bright smile. “Please meet Highwing,” she said. “Isn’t she just magnificent?”

Imelda was just relieved it was just a Hippogriff and not a giant spider or any other dangerous animal. Well, Hippogriffs were still fearsome, but at least they were a better sight for sore eyes.

“Yes,” Imelda admitted, looking at the Hippogriff with mild intrigue. She barely remembered the lessons on Hippogriffs in Beasts class. Howin certainly never brought a live Hippogriff to class, though, so Imelda was entranced by seeing it right in front of her. They were certainly beautiful creatures, she would give them that.

Poppy stepped back and waved to Highwing. “Go on. Introduce yourself to her,” she encouraged. She then gave Imelda a warning look. “But be careful; you must always show Hippogriffs the proper courtesy before you approach them.”

Now the lessons came back to Imelda. Howin had warned them that Hippogriffs were prideful animals, and they would make one pay with their talons. Imelda winced. She warded people away with her personality. How could a Hippogriff take a liking to her?

Highwing let out a small squawk, with her horse tail flicking behind her in impatience.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” Imelda muttered, keeping her eyes on the Hippogriff. Even the magic in her blood was pulsing with wariness.

“It’s okay,” Poppy insisted. “She’s an excellent judge of character, as am I. If I did not think Highwing would like you, I wouldn’t have brought you to her.” She gave Imelda a look of strong conviction and added, “I wouldn’t have trusted you with her.”

Imelda realized what she meant by that. Out of a strange set of circumstances, Imelda had managed to prove herself trustworthy to Poppy. Imelda could very possibly be the first human Poppy trusted in Hogwarts, aside from maybe Professor Howin…

Imelda took a deep breath, finding that realization as encouragement as she looked back at Highwing. She slowly approached the Hippogriff to stand in front of her, tightly holding onto her broom. Highwing cocked her head, and Imelda could have sworn she saw an expectant look in her dark eyes.

“Remember to treat her with respect,” Poppy whispered.

Imelda swallowed and bowed at the waist. Her heart nearly leapt into her throat when she saw Highwing lift a talon, but she merely brought the talon back onto the ground to paw it. Imelda knew she wasn’t intimidated by many things, but she was also plenty aware how long those claws were. Not to mention, she was just as proudful as a Hippogriff. If Poppy was right about Highwing being an excellent judge of character, Highwing could probably sense that similarity between them. Imelda bowed deeper, going a perfect ninety-degrees.

Highwing clacked her beak, but Imelda stayed still, not flinching from the noise. A moment later, Imelda’s back was starting to feel sore from not moving from her bowing position. She could have passed time by counting all blades of grass in her sight of the ground, but she was still focused on listening carefully to the Hippogriff.

Finally, she noticed Highwing lift her talon and then lower her head. Imelda looked up, gobsmacked at seeing the Hippogriff bow back to her. The feeling of relief was there of course, but she also felt…pleased to have gained the respect of such a creature. Imelda slowly straightened, and Highwing moved a little closer to her. Imelda raised her free hand and hesitantly reached up, lightly stroking Highwing’s head. Highwing leaned into her hand, and Imelda faintly gasped as she continued to pet the soft feathers.

“I knew she would warm up to you!” Poppy chirped, coming up to stand beside Imelda with a proud smile.

Imelda let out a small sigh of disbelief, a tiny smile forming on her lips. “I…somehow feel honored that she does,” she said.

“That’s the influence of a Hippogriff’s respect, I’d say,” Poppy readily replied. She started to pet down the side of Highwing’s neck. “I come and check on her every once in a while. I bring her pasties, tell her what’s going on in the castle.” She chuckled and playfully added, “You wouldn’t know from looking at her, but she’s a dreadful busybody.”

Highwing then let out a small call and shook her head, opening her wings. Imelda followed Poppy’s lead, and they stepped aside. Highwing trotted and then took off, flying toward the Hogwarts bridge at the south exit.

“She doesn’t like staying in one place too long,” Poppy explained with a fond smile. “But, she does like this secondary home of the Forbidden Forest when I’m at school.”

Imelda frowned in thought and turned to her. “She’s been with you since first year?”

Poppy nodded. “Yes, er, it has been…five years since I rescued her from poachers,” she hesitantly explained. She then sighed and crossed her arms. “But now I fear for her safety again.”

“Why is that?” Imelda asked.

“There have been recent reports of poachers nearby,” Poppy bitterly said. Her eyebrows furrowed up in worry. “I fear that they could get Highwing again, and I might not be there the next time…”

Imelda remembered Onai telling her about Harlow planning a poaching operation of some kind. Was it possible the poachers were affiliated with Harlow and therefore Rookwood? Thinking of the Gryffindor’s endeavor of justice made Imelda eye Poppy. “You’re thinking of doing something about it, aren’t you?” She bluntly asked.

“The poachers’ influence is growing,” Poppy replied rather defensively. “I see them every day in the village: lingering, talking to people—”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Imelda said back with an arched eyebrow.

“They’re up to something!” Poppy insisted. She looked away in defeat. “I’m just not sure what.”

Imelda sighed and put a hand to her head. She knew it sounded like these poachers were planning something. If she voiced her thoughts, Poppy would most likely want to do something. If she didn’t say something, there was a chance Poppy was going to do something anyway. She could understand Gryffindors wanting to tackle issues despite being just students, but she didn’t think a Hufflepuff would have that daring-do attitude. Then again, Poppy cared for any and all animals, and poachers would be the biggest problem for them. Not to mention…these poachers could be working for Rookwood. Imelda wondered…if they stopped poachers, would that also cripple Rookwood’s operations? Would he get off her back and give her less to worry about?

“I think I’m going to look into it,” Poppy said, bringing Imelda out of her thoughts. “Find out what’s going on, what they’re doing.”

“Well, I can’t stop you,” Imelda said. What was with her peers wanting to take matters into their own hands? Did they all think they couldn’t count on adults or other people? Well, look who was thinking that; Imelda had dealt with those Keepers, but if she knew them in real life, she wouldn’t trust them.

“The more I know, the better I can keep Highwing safe,” Poppy quietly added, wringing her hands.

Imelda wondered what that must be like: worrying so much for the safety of a dear and close friend. She was used to being on her own, and only having to worry about her own life. Now…her heart flipped at the thought of people she knew being in danger. Professor Fig and his wife, Isaac, Sebastian, Ominis, even Onai and Poppy. Even…Garreth. People she was slowly trusting and caring more about than she ever had before. People she could see as friends…

Icy fear crept into her heart. What if these problems got to them? She believed Miriam and Fig could handle themselves as they’re adults and knew what to expect. But her peers did not know the whole picture like she did. They could be finding themselves in more trouble than they bargained for. If she was there, though…

“Let me know when you find something,” Imelda suggested.

Poppy stared at her, taken aback. “Really?” She then looked at her warily. “Are you going to try to change my mind? Because that won’t happen.”

Imelda shook her head. “Like I said: I can’t stop you. That doesn’t mean I’ll leave you to deal with this alone.”

Poppy slowly smiled at her. “If someone had told me I’d find someone to trust in you, I wouldn’t know what to think.”

“Believe me, I understand that feeling all throughout the start of this term,” Imelda remarked, and she fought a smile at hearing Poppy chuckle.

They started to head back to Professor Howin’s hut.

“So, how fast is Highwing?” Imelda asked.

Poppy seemed surprised by the question. “Er, I’m not sure,” she answered. “I never timed her.”

“I wouldn’t mind racing against her on my Night Dancer, and see whether a Hippogriff or a broom is faster.” Imelda lifted her broom a bit as she mentioned it.

Poppy chuckled again, shaking her head. “Even though you’re known to be fanatic of flying and Quidditch, you still managed to surprise me, Imelda.”

“I tend to keep people on their toes,” she offhandedly said, smiling a little more as Poppy laughed.

Imelda was starting to feel like she could get along with this Hufflepuff. They had both been isolated from their peers in different ways: Imelda with her flying and Quidditch, and Poppy with her animal friends. They were both recipients of back-talk, but they weren’t deterred by it. Imelda could not believe that she would be two birds of a feather with someone, but…perhaps Poppy wasn’t the only one like that. She still remembered her curious thoughts about Garreth, wondering if he really was a lot more like her than she assumed. Either way, Imelda found herself wanting to find out eventually.

The Ice Queen really was starting to thaw…

Chapter Text

The rest of the week passed quickly without any strange circumstances. Imelda had a feeling that was going to change eventually, and she didn’t like this tension. It was like she knew something was coming, but she didn’t know when, so she was on guard at all times.

Imelda took a deep breath and fiddled with the bag of Fudge Flies in her hands to distract her mind from worries. A couple days ago, Anne had finally gotten back to Sebastian. Sebastian told Imelda that Anne didn’t mind if she visited, so Imelda had promptly followed Ominis’s advice and bought Fudge Flies.

Even so…Imelda wasn’t sure what to do when she saw Anne. They had barely talked to each other in the past couple years. How could she suddenly strike up a conversation as if they were old friends? What would she say, “hey, I didn’t realize how much I isolated myself from everyone until Quidditch was canceled”? Her pride would never let her utter anything of the sort, least of all to someone she hardly knew…

Imelda looked around from her spot, where she was waiting for her “Feldcroft escort” to come out. She was sitting on one end of the half-circle of window benches, where the tall radius windows showed the Black Lake. There were tall stalks of kelp swaying from the water, but there were still no merpeople making their presences known.

Her heart numbly ached, remembering how she hadn’t sat here since the end of her first year. She felt the resurfaced guilt she had tried to forget for the past couple years, but how could she move on? She and Nerida hadn’t spoken to each other since their row, but they were still sharing a dorm.

She heard someone come from the boys’ side of the dorms, and she was relieved for a distraction. Sebastian and Ominis were walking, and the former noticed her. They quickly made their way to her through the vacant common room. As it was the afternoon on a Saturday, most students are spending their leisure time either outside or even at Hogsmeade.

“Ready to go?” Sebastian asked, having changed out of the school uniform and instead wearing a simple green jumper and black trousers under his Hogwarts robe. He still showed his Slytherin loyalty with his house scarf to keep him warm along with his black cotton gloves.

Ominis was still wearing his school uniform, but Imelda wondered if that was intentional since he had to have tea with the insufferable Headmaster. Perhaps Ominis didn’t want to put more than bare minimum effort for it, and she wouldn’t blame him one bit.

Imelda nodded and quadruple checked how she looked. She was used to wearing either the school uniform or the Quidditch uniform. Normally, her weekends were spent playing Quidditch or at least practicing her flying. She didn’t want to wear her Quidditch uniform when she visited Anne, though, as she felt like it might give the message of not wanting to stay long so she can go back to playing Quidditch. Instead, she wore a cream-colored knitted jumper with dark brown trousers and brown sheepskin gloves, also under her Hogwarts robe.

“Are we flying there or going by Floo?” Imelda asked.

“Floo, so I hope you won’t be too sooty for the visit,” Sebastian remarked with some amusement.

Imelda rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine. I know I don’t usually care about appearances—”

“—that muddy season of Quidditch in our third year comes to mind.”

“—but I am considerate enough to not look worse than normal for company,” she irately finished as Sebastian smiled innocently.

“Well, you two have fun,” Ominis bade. He sighed with resignation. “I have to have tea with a brown-nosing lying snake.” His expression was as bitter as his voice, obviously wanting to do anything but meet with Black.

“I’ll be sure to bring back some mincemeat pies,” Sebastian offered with a grin. “Anne told me she was making them in her last letter, and I know they’ll cheer you up.”

Ominis did perk up at the mention of the food, already looking a lot better than he did a second ago. “Very well,” he quietly said. “The promise of mincemeat pies shall help me overcome this insufferable tea time.” He then added, “Say hi to Anne for me.”

Sebastian chuckled and patted his friend’s back. “Of course, Ominis.” He turned to Imelda. “Let’s go.”

Imelda followed his lead to the Floo Flames in the Slytherin Common Room. Sebastian grabbed some of the powder first and instantly threw it into the green fire, yelling, “Feldcroft!” Once he disappeared into the fire and smoke, Imelda did the same thing.

She was transported to the small town, and once she got over the slight dizzy spell from Flooing, she coughed as some ash got into her nose and mouth. Sebastian roughly hit her back, and she gave him an indignant look.

“What? That didn’t help?” He sheepishly asked.

Imelda sighed and coughed one more time, getting the last of it out of her system. She straightened and started to pat her head, soot falling off her hair. She took out her wand and started to cast Scourgify on herself, cleaning up her even-more-black robes and face. Sebastian did the same, but at the end, his hair was further mussed than usual. He didn’t bother fixing it, though.

“Come on, our home is right over here,” he eagerly said. He didn’t even wait for her response, already walking on the dirt trodden path on the left. Imelda hastened to follow him and noticed he had a spring in his step. In fact…he looked far more lively now than he had ever been at Hogwarts. Imelda double-checked she still had the Fudge Flies in her hand on the way. They were still held tightly in her left hand, good.

Sebastian wasn’t kidding when he said the Sallow home was “right over here”. It was the first home along the path on the left, and Imelda looked at the rather…shabby house. She was used to an estate and a small manor, a splendorous life thanks to her grandfather playing professional Quidditch. She tried to not judge people’s class and status, but she couldn’t help wondering if she would have been different if she lived in a humble home like this.

The house looked like it had two levels, the roof was constructed with hay, and the walls were put together with cobbled stone. It wasn’t until they were nearing the doorstep that Imelda realized something. She slowed down and looked around. A hamlet that should be full of life…wasn’t. There was hardly anyone around, as if this place were desolate.

“Why is it so quiet?” She asked.

“With Ranrok’s lot wandering about all the time, everyone stays out of sight,” Sebastian answered, but Imelda caught the reluctant tone. As if he understood the concerning matter but didn’t like it one bit. No one would.

She was forced out of her thinking when Sebastian patted her arm. She turned back to him, and he nodded to the door. He had slipped on an easy grin, his eyes shining with anticipation.

“Anne should be just inside,” he said. He grabbed the doorknob and held a finger up to his lips, signalling Imelda to stay quiet. She gave a tiny nod, and he mischievously grinned before silently opening the door.

Imelda merely walked in with a raised eyebrow as Sebastian slunk into the house. Wasn’t Anne expecting them, anyway? She kept her footsteps light nonetheless, and she looked around the inside of the house.

It was pretty bare, with only necessary furniture. There was the dining room ahead of them, with another room to their left but most of it obscured from sight with curtains, and the kitchen was to their right. Up ahead, Anne sat in one chair of four at a round table with her back to them. She had her brown hair up in the tight bun Imelda remembered she always wore in school. Instead of the Slytherin school uniform, though, she was wearing a dress shirt with a forest green vest over it, as well as a checkered burgundy scarf wrapped around her shoulders and neck.

Sebastian smirked and stealthily approached her. He went right up to her and quickly stuck his fingers into her sides, making her jolt as he laughed triumphantly.

“Sebastian!” Anne called out with shock and admonishment with a big grin on her face. She got out of the chair and enthusiastically hugged him, which he returned just as happily. “I didn’t know you were coming so soon today!”

“Well, I wanted to surprise you,” Sebastian cheerfully said, grinning as well. Imelda could see just how twin-like they were, as they had the exact grin on both of their faces. “That’s not all, though!” He reached into his robes and proudly showed a Shrivelfig. “Ta-da!”

Anne looked at it with curiosity. “Is that what I think it is?” She asked, her brown eyes full of wonder.

Before Sebastian could answer, Imelda saw someone come from the curtained room. The man had a head full of dark hair and a beard with patches of gray. He wore a striped button-up shirt under a dark vest with dark trousers. He had a surly expression on his face and snatched the Shrivelfig out of Sebastian’s hand.

“We’ve been over this, boy,” he gruffly said.

“Hey!” Sebastian protested, turning to him with an affronted expression. He tried to reach for the plant, but the man moved it out of his reach.

“Shrivelfigs cannot reverse a curse,” he firmly insisted. He looked at Anne and quietly added, “Nothing can.”

Cheery chap, Imelda irately thought. She stepped closer to the family. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do as she shouldn’t be involved with a family matter…

“The sooner you accept that reality, the better,” the man told Sebastian as he used his wand to— Imelda’s mouth dropped open in shock at seeing the Shrivelfig be destroyed into nothing more than dust in the air.

Sebastian stared at where the Shrivelfig was, and his face started to flush with distress and anger. He closed his hands into fists as he watched the man turn around and walk away. “But we haven’t tried everything!” He shouted at the man’s back.

The man whirled around. “There is no cure!” He yelled, full of ire. Anne looked between the two, her hands half-raised as if to try to placate them. “When will you accept that?” The man asked Sebastian, with exasperation and resignation.

“Never!” Sebastian defiantly said with a determined glare. Anne’s expression suddenly fell, and she held her midsection. Neither members of her family noticed. “I can never accept it!”

Anne let out a pained cry, and Imelda looked away from the spectacle to focus on Anne. Any liveliness and excitement was gone like the flame of a candle blown out. She panted and turned to lean her hands on the table, still grunting in agony.

“Now look what you’ve done,” the man darkly muttered before going to Anne and gently comforting her with a hand on her shoulder.

Sebastian wilted, and he turned to his sister, who was still grimacing and hissing in pain. “Anne, I’m so sorry!” He said with clear worry.

“Leave!” The man barked, glaring at Sebastian. He then helped Anne sit back in the chair, and Sebastian staggered back a step as if he was losing heart to even stand.

Sebastian stared at his sister for a long moment before turning on his heel and striding out of the house. He didn’t even meet Imelda’s eyes as he passed her, slamming the door on the way out. Imelda stared at the closed door and then looked back at Anne. What just happened? She didn’t know what she expected, but this was nothing at all like what she could have possibly fathomed about the family. She started to rack her mind, trying to place who this man was. He couldn’t possibly be their father…right? Then she remembered sometime in the past four years, one of the twins mentioning an “Uncle Solomon”. This was their uncle? Imelda scowled, thinking that no respectful member of the family should treat his own nephew like that. She knew Sebastian and Anne and Ominis were a handful, but only sometimes. She was taken by surprise that she was already starting to feel protective…

She internally promised herself to talk to Anne when she wasn’t being watched over by their uncle, and then went outside.

She sighed deeply, feeling a little better once she was outside. She started to look for Sebastian and saw him angrily pace like an agitated animal not too far away. Imelda had never seen him this infuriated, and her gut feeling told her to be wary and wait for him to calm down at least a little. After all, that was how people acted around her once they saw her look as angry as Sebastian looked now.

Imelda heard the door open, and then heard Solomon mutter, “That boy will fray my last nerve.”

As much as that comment rubbed Imelda the wrong way, she still turned to him. Maybe she could find out more about how Anne got cursed or just any important information about the twins. Something useful to pass the time, anyway. “Hi,” she greeted in a tight voice.

He faced her, completely surprised as if he had forgotten she was even there. “Ah, you must have been the friend Sebastian wrote about bringing,” he said, his tone now much nicer. Imelda’s eyebrows twitched at that switch in his behavior. He cleared his throat. “I apologize on behalf of my nephew.” He frowned a bit. “He doesn’t know when to stop.”

Imelda bit back a snark response, her Slytherin part of her reminding her she needed to know more first.

Solomon sighed. “He thinks he can help Anne, but…” His expression shifted to resignation. “Nothing can be done for her.”

Imelda frowned, despising quitters, but maybe she could give leeway… “I guess you’ve exhausted other options? Madam Blainey and St. Mungo’s?” She asked.

“Of course,” Solomon answered. A tiny scoff escaped him. “My nephew thinks he knows better than the healers.” The fact he didn’t even address Sebastian by his name made indignation boil in her blood.

“Well, perhaps the healers don’t know everything,” Imelda blurted out, the bad mood now sinking in. Solomon frowned, and she continued, “The field of medicine is plenty unexplored, after all. At least Sebastian is still devoted to finding something for Anne. He’s willing to try everything, even something as small as a Shrivelfig.” The back of her mind even pointed out that the Shrivelfig must have been what Sebastian bought when they went to Hogsmeade. And that made her feel even more sympathetic toward him.

Solomon shook his head. “Your faith in Sebastian is misplaced,” he stubbornly said. “Some sort of Dark Magic cursed Anne, and the goblins aren’t likely to explain themselves any time soon.”

Imelda blinked, catching the detail she hadn’t heard before. “She was cursed by goblins?”

Solomon’s eyebrows furrowed. “You didn’t know? I thought you were a friend of Sebastian’s.” Imelda gritted her teeth at seeing the judging look on his face as if wondering what kind of friend she was that didn’t know that sort of thing. Guilt was writhing in her heart, and her defensiveness habitually resurfaced.

“I’d say you don’t have a right to judge me on my friendships,” she snapped. “I’m trying to be there for your niece and nephew, as you clearly aren’t.”

“How dare you?” He angrily asked, now offended. “Who do you think looks after Anne as she’s now home all the time?”

“While pushing away her only brother?” She demanded, not backing down and digging her heels in. She stared hard up at him and let her frustration run her mouth. “No wonder Sebastian hardly ever mentions you! You think it’s better to just roll over and accept Anne’s fate and put him down. If you knew your nephew, you’d know he would never give up, especially on his sister.”

Solomon glared back at her, obviously seething, but he didn’t get baited by her provoking. He took a deep breath and with restrained anger quietly said, “Giving her hope is cruel. The only thing to do now is keep Anne comfortable and stay out of the Loyalists’ way. I know what’s best for them. If you really want to ‘be there’ for them, make sure Sebastian does what he should do. Not what he wants to do.”

Imelda couldn’t believe the nerve of this man! She knew how stubborn Sebastian could be. Even met with resistance, he was determined to stick to what he wanted. Sure, she admonished him and pinched his ear, but that was after he did what he did. She had tried in vain to get him to stop something as menial as sneaking out after hours. How could she possibly stop Sebastian from looking for a cure for his sister?

“Yeah, like that would go well,” she sarcastically and bitterly said before stalking back to the house. In the corner of her eye, she saw Solomon shake his head in disappointment, but she didn’t even feel bad for disappointing an adult for once.

Imelda went to the door and grabbed the doorknob. She stopped and took a deep breath, trying to dispel all of her anger. She did not want to lash out at Anne and agitate the poor girl. Once she was sure most of her ire was gone, she calmly turned the knob and entered the house again.

“Anne?” She quietly called out as she closed the door behind her.

Anne looked over her shoulder at her and gave her an apologetic wan smile. “I’m sorry about earlier. These bouts of pain are difficult to bear,” she wearily said.

“Don’t apologize for that,” Imelda refuted. She stepped closer and winced as she realized how biting her tone was. She sighed and gently asked, “Are you…alright? Well, I know you’re not alright, but are you feeling a little better?”

Anne’s dull brown eyes had some light in them from amusement. “Yes, thank you, Imelda,” she answered.

There was a lull, and Imelda looked down, unsure what to say. It was easier for her to scold someone instead of being nice. She saw she was still holding the bag from Honeydukes. “Oh, er…here,” she awkwardly said as she came up and held out the bag.

“Fudge Flies?” Anne excitedly asked as she accepted the gift. “Thank you!” She smiled brightly at the sight of her favorite sweets. “How did you–?”

“Ominis told me.” Imelda flushed more, feeling even more awkward. “He says hi, by the way.” She glanced at the kitchen. “And…he was hoping for a mincemeat pie.”

Anne chuckled, looking to be in a far better mood now. “He can have as many as he wants! They’re stored in that biscuit tin.” She pointed to the tin sitting on the kitchen counter. Anne sighed, her hand still on her midsection. “In fact, just take the whole tin. I’m sure he and Sebastian will eat them all before sunset.”

“Probably,” Imelda muttered. She picked up the metal, round tin and turned to Anne. Her grip tightened on the biscuit tin as silence filled the room again. How could she bring up the curse to Anne? Should she bring it up?

“It’s not Sebastian’s fault,” Anne finally said. “The bouts of pain? They come and go out of nowhere.”

“Then why did your uncle blame him?” Imelda bitterly asked, walking closer to her.

Anne shook her head, dismayed. “The two of them always have rows. I try to get them to stop but—” she winced “—I seem to only stop them when I am in pain. I suppose Uncle Solomon thinks arguments and tension cause them.”

Imelda clicked her tongue, feeling more and more annoyed about Solomon. But she tried to not focus on that. “…Sebastian and Ominis miss you,” she offered.

Anne bittersweetly smiled. “And I miss them. As well as Hogwarts.” She wistfully looked at Imelda’s Slytherin robe. “I heard that there’s no Quidditch this year.”

Imelda scoffed and sat down next to Anne. “Because Purus took a Bludger to the head last year. But he’s fine now. Still, Black decided he knew best and took away the livelihood of many witches and wizards.”

“You must be going mental,” Anne lightly teased with a playful grin as Imelda gave her an unamused look. She chuckled. “I remember playing an awful trick on you and nicking your broom late at night in our third year.” Anne stifled a laugh. “Your angry shriek woke up the entire House.”

Imelda rolled her eyes, blushing at the memory. “Well, you learned your lesson to never steal from me, especially when it’s a prized possession like my Night Dancer.”

Anne laughed and reached up, gently rubbing her ear. “I certainly did.” She snickered. “Sebastian looked like he was going to wet his pants when we saw how ticked you were.”

Imelda started to crack a smile, remembering that. Sebastian and Ominis were both pale in the face as Imelda tackled Anne and screamed obscenities in Spanish. “One of many moments that made people wisely stay away from me,” she muttered, lowering her gaze.

Anne looked at her sympathetically. “When Sebastian wrote to me that you would come visit, I thought he was pulling my leg,” she quietly said. “But he mentioned that you were…different.” She smiled more. “I see what he means.”

Imelda blushed at the implication she was becoming different in a better way. Was she that insufferable in the past? She gripped tightly onto the biscuit tin and studied the tabletop. “People change, and I’m no exception, I guess,” she mumbled. She cleared her throat and looked back at Anne. “So…your uncle mentioned you were cursed by goblins.”

Anne’s expression shifted to be more guarded. “Yes?” She replied. She started to grimace and even gasped in pain. “I-I’m sorry, but I’d rather not talk about—” She let out a small cry of pain, and Imelda could only helplessly watch.

“Er,” Imelda fumbled, trying to think of something else to talk about while also berating herself for tactlessly bringing up a sore subject. “W-what does your uncle do? O-occupation wise.” Really? You ask about their uncle? Imelda internally yelled.

It seemed to have done the trick, as Anne eventually calmed down. “He was an Auror,” she answered in a winded voice. Imelda couldn’t believe how much energy and light was taken out of her so quickly… What in Merlin’s name is this curse? Imelda worriedly thought. “H-he’s not an Auror anymore, though.”

Imelda considered that. Such a resigned man was an Auror? Professor Sharp was an Auror too, but she didn’t think he would give up like Solomon did. After all, she had heard rumors that Sharp primarily became a potions professor to use the Hogwarts library to further study a cure for his limp leg.

“And about all of this…” Anne sighed. “Uncle Solomon is just frustrated. By what happened to me and by Sebastian for thinking he can fix it.” She had a crestfallen expression on her face as she added, “They both mean well” —Imelda had to swallow the disbelieving scoff in her throat as she thought about their uncle— “I know they do, but…my uncle is right. This curse cannot be undone. I can feel it.”

Imelda was astonished by the change of Anne’s demeanor. She had always known Anne as a spitfire, one to cause chaos and have a downright mischievous side. To suddenly see her as a quiet, even meek, teenager just made Imelda feel more distraught. She should have done something a lot sooner. Especially with Anne being alone all fourth year…

Anne seemed to have given up too. Imelda thought about the several times she saw Sebastian read books of all kinds, books she knew were from the restricted section. She even remembered what Sebastian said when they were walking back from their duelling practice…

“Everyone already seems to be thinking she’s—” He had stopped and scrunched his eyes closed with furrowed eyebrows and a deep frown.

He could not accept the reality Anne and Solomon already did. Imelda…couldn’t blame him. She was never one to easily accept things, the Keepers could attest to that. So, she hesitantly put a hand on Anne’s shoulder.

“I’m not one to just take things as they are,” she firmly told her.

Anne caught onto her attitude and shook her head. “No, Imelda. Sebastian—and you—cannot take my pain away.” She gave Imelda an imploring look. “Please, get that through to him. It’s for the best.”

Everything inside Imelda was screaming that she didn’t want to accept such a thing for Anne. What did she know, though? Anne was the one in pain, and like she said: they couldn’t take away her—

A thought came to Imelda like lightning, and she tried to keep from reacting to it for Anne to notice. Isidora had taken away her father’s pain. Sure, that was emotional pain, not physical pain, but it worked. Could…could Imelda do that for Anne? …Should she do that? She remembered that Rackham had told Isidora that “human emotion is a potent force unto itself”. But what about bodily pain? Was that less of a potent force or more?

Imelda had to come to terms that the only people that could possibly answer that for her were the Keepers. Guess I’m seeing them sooner than a month from now, she thought.

Imelda sighed and looked back at Anne. “You know him better than I do, Anne,” she said. “When his mind is made up, he hardly changes it.”

“I know,” Anne said with sorrow for her brother. “But I hope he’ll realize sooner the futility of his search for a cure.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping even more. “I’ve expended so much energy already…I should rest.”

“Right,” Imelda muttered as she stood up. She slowly pulled away her hand from Anne’s shoulder. “Get plenty of rest. And…if you don’t mind, I could…try to visit you again soon?”

Anne looked up at her, her eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. She slowly gave her a tired smile. “I’d like that. Thank you, Imelda.”

“Not a problem,” Imelda muttered, still getting used to trying to reach out to people. “I’ll see you around.”

“See you around.”

Imelda walked out of the house, nearly running into Solomon. She didn’t dignify his presence, walking right past him to where she saw Sebastian. He had stopped pacing, now just staring at the ground with crossed arms.

“Your uncle is certainly something,” she muttered with some annoyance.

Sebastian turned to her, looking surprised but also…relieved. “Now you know what I have to deal with.” He glared at the house, no doubt having seen his uncle go in.

“I do,” Imelda said. “I don’t agree with his line of thinking, but…what else is there?”

“There has to be something,” Sebastian insisted. “Where there’s a curse, there’s a cure, right?”

Imelda nodded as she couldn’t disagree with that logic. She thought about her idea, but she couldn’t bring that up to Sebastian. He didn’t even know she had ancient magic. She sighed and pointed at Sebastian with her hand that wasn’t holding the biscuit tin. “I will try to help you, Sebastian, but” —She saw his hopeful expression— “I will not sneak into the restricted section, nor do anything that could mean us getting in trouble if we’re caught.”

“Well, any sanctioned options have already been exhausted,” he pointed out.

“Maybe not,” Imelda said. Sebastian obviously looked curious at the way she said that. She didn’t want him pressing and being able to catch her in a lie. So, she tried to change the subject. “I didn’t know Anne was cursed by goblins.”

Sebastian moved to stand up straight with a grim expression on his freckled face. “Come with me. I’ll show you where it happened,” he said in a low voice.

He started to walk east of the hamlet and she followed after him. They jogged along the path, and Imelda noticed some strange rubble of stone on the way.

“That’s debris from whatever is going on at that abandoned estate,” Sebastian explained on her right. He looked ahead. “They’ve been digging for something.”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed. “For an entire year and some months?”

“Apparently,” he muttered. “The folks here try to stay out of it, thinking Ranrok’s Loyalists won’t pay them mind if they do.” He started to glare into the open space as they kept jogging. “Everyone seems to underestimate them. They shouldn’t.”

Imelda caught the same bitter tone Sebastian had spoken in about goblins. Now she was understanding why he seemed to have a vendetta against goblins: they cursed his sister. Anne, who seemed to be a shell of her former self. Anne…who was probably the only family Sebastian had left, as he clearly didn’t care that much for his uncle. Imelda’s mind was whirling. She had known him for five years, and yet she didn’t know what he was going through. How many other classmates of hers were there that had hard times like this? How many felt alone because no one else knew? …Was that her? Was it really that bad to rely on others? She was already wanting to help Sebastian because she couldn’t stand to see him, Anne, and Ominis with such a sad fate. They were her housemates, sure, but…she knew she wouldn’t care this much for mere housemates… Would they call her a friend, though? Her stomach started to flip as she came to the conclusion that no, they wouldn’t.

“Up there, on that plateau,” Sebastian said, pointing up ahead. Imelda looked up to see the cliffside. “That’s where they cursed Anne.” He glanced at her, his expression guarded for once. “This way.”

Imelda went with him, and they were going up the sloped path when her ears picked up disgruntled talk between goblins. She instantly grabbed Sebastian’s arm. “Wait, we can’t take on a full camp of goblins,” she hissed. She then internally facepalmed. Sebastian had just said that goblins were digging around up there. What did she think they were going to walk into? A peaceful landscape?

“We could.” Sebastian then smirked. “If they don’t see us coming.”

Imelda caught on what his plan was, and she sighed in begrudgement. He was going to do this, and she had to make sure he didn’t get himself killed. She forced the biscuit tin into her inner robe pocket, thankful that Professor Fig enchanted it to have an Extensive Charm just in case it was needed while she did trials. Then she and Sebastian casted Disillusionment Charms on themselves and snuck closer toward the voices…

It was arduous, but Imelda and Sebastian had managed to petrify the last goblin fighter with Petrificus Totalus. She dropped her charm and rolled her neck as she saw Sebastian across the area stand up and drop his too.

“See? Not a problem,” he said as he walked around the goblin he last petrified. He frowned down at it before making his way to the center. “Now—”

They both stiffened at hearing sharp cracks like a variation of Apparition. They whirled around and saw three goblins in red glowing armor. One with a knight helmet of some kind, plume and all, sneered at them while hefting a hammer that menacingly glowed the same as his armor.

“You’ve made your last mistake,” he growled before he and his two companions charged at them.

Imelda felt her fight-or-flight instinct takeover, and she instantly said “Glacius” just as Sebastian yelled out “Confringo!”

Her icy blast latched onto one of the goblins while his fire blasted another. She casted Depulso on the one wearing the knight helmet, sending him back so they could take care of the other two.

Imelda had her back to Sebastian and casted Descendo on the goblin that patted his burning clothes. She thought she heard the slicing of Diffindo, but she wasn’t going to check.

The ground below her suddenly burst with black and red energy, and her blood thrummed at sensing the sinister magic of it. Her instincts forced her body to tuck and roll away, and she saw a spike of black and red rise from where she just stood. A chill went through as she hurried back onto her feet. This wasn’t like fighting mindless spiders or mongrels or enchanted statues. Not even the Ashwinders, sentient dark wizards, were aiming to kill her. But these goblins? They wanted her dead.

That realization made something turn on in her mind. Kill or be killed was what she felt like she was being told. Imelda hurriedly casted Protego on the goblin that took Sebastian’s Confringo. His axe bounced off her shield, and he bared his pointy teeth at her.

“Descendo!” She barked, and he was magically forced flat on the ground. That wasn’t enough to knock him out. “Glacius!” Ice spread onto his back and reached the grass around him, but her mind instantly thought Diffindo would stop him completely. She looked at the goblin, and her stomach sank. She didn’t think she could do it…

Instead, she casted Stupefy, and he went limp, but she knew he was breathing. That was good enough—

She turned and saw with horror that the goblin with a knight helmet had snuck up behind Sebastian. He raised his hammer, about to shatter Sebastian’s spine.

No! She thought and instantly pointed her wand at him, seeing the tip glowing bright blue-white. Her magic pulsed intensely, and she felt a burst of energy go from her arm down her hand to her wand, and it went right to the goblin. The goblin staggered back and let out a choked noise before he burst into dust. Just like the troll.

Sebastian looked to his right at Imelda, who was still pointing her wand at where the goblin was with a fierce and desperate look in her eyes. He slowly turned around and saw the bits of dust falling onto the ground. He instantly recognized it as the same kind of dust that happened to the troll.

Imelda was still full of adrenaline from the fight, not yet dwelling on what she just did. She went up to Sebastian. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

Imelda let out a small breath of relief, and then her anger came out. She smacked him upside the head.

“Ah! What the—?!” He yelled, bewildered and angry too.

“How does the best duellist in Hogwarts let a goblin come up from behind?” She yelled in a shrill voice. “If I didn’t see him, you could have died!” She even choked up at the last word, looking away to not show just how emotional this had gotten for her.

Sebastian’s anger simmered away as he realized what the fuss was about. “Lesson learned,” he muttered.

She looked back and saw him rubbing his head. Now she was starting to feel guilty for doing that to him. “…How’s your head?”

“Fine.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He rolled his shoulders back. “As much as I’d like to press for answers about the second time you did what you did… We’re not too far from where it happened.”

He led her to further up the plateau, and Imelda started to calm down from the fight. She looked around and saw rubble, strange statues of people, and wagons of all kinds. Sebastian said this was an abandoned estate, but…Imelda felt like she had seen something like this before.

Sebastian took her to the center, by a couple wagons. “This is where it happened,” he said in a hollow tone. He stared blankly at the ground, and Imelda stayed quiet. “We smelled smoke in the middle of the night. When we looked outside, flames were shooting from the estate. Before my uncle and I could stop her, Anne rushed out, racing towards the fire. Worried someone’d be hurt. She came face to face with a horde of goblins frantically trying to stamp out the flames.” He scowled, and a shadow fell on his face. “Suddenly, an icy voice drifted out from somewhere in the smoke: ‘Children should be seen and not heard.’ A blinding blast followed.” He closed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed. “They didn’t even give her a chance to run.”

Imelda mulled it over. The goblins were that quick to attack Anne just for her coming across them? Sure, these goblins attacked them when they were intruding, but…why didn’t they just kill Anne? Why leave her alive? To make her suffer? Make those she cared about suffer as well?

“Anne told you all of this?” Imelda eventually asked.

Sebastian nodded. “We managed to find her on the way, and she was bent over in pain.” He opened his eyes, and Imelda could see that his gaze was distant as if he was back in the past for a moment. Then he blinked, and it was gone. He turned to Imelda. “I feel like there might be something here that could lead me to whoever cursed Anne.”

Imelda looked around the area. It was full of wooden ruins of sorts. What kind of clue could be left to direct them to the one that cursed Anne? Not to mention it had been a year. The chances were slim, but Imelda could still at least follow his logic.

“You think knowing who they were could lead to what magic they used?” Imelda asked.

“Which could then help me find a cure,” he earnestly added.

Imelda sighed and shrugged. “We’re here, and without any trouble for the next ten minutes or so. Might as well make the most of it,” she replied. She knew those unconscious goblins would wake up eventually, so they would have to move fast. This was not at all what she expected for her first visit to Feldcroft.

“Then let’s get started,” he said with determination.

The first spots nearby didn’t look promising. Imelda saw a dig site, but that was in line with what Sebastian said earlier about the goblins digging for a while. She wasn’t sure what they could possibly be digging for; there weren’t rare gems in this area, right? There were also weapons, but was also to be expected as goblins were preparing for a rebellion.

What caught her eye was a furnace left standing. Imelda stepped closer and investigated it. “What about this?”

“Rumor was a Hogwarts professor lived here once, centuries ago,” Sebastian said to her from his spot of peering at the statues.

Imelda hummed in thought and kept perusing the area until her eyes landed on a rundown well. She frowned and approached it. The back of her mind was tingling. She had seen this exact well before, but…where?

Then it hit her: it was the same well from that memory she got from the Keepers. When they saved the hamlet from a drought. Where it was revealed the little girl was Isidora—

Imelda’s eyes widened as she remembered the other memories. When Isidora was a professor.

“No way,” she muttered.

“Imelda?” Sebastian walked up to her and looked at the well with perplexity. “Is there…something special about the well?”

Imelda stared at the well and then tried to remember from the memories. If that was the well, then…she turned around and slowly followed the remains of a cobbled path. She walked as if in a trance, barely hearing Sebastian call her name. Imelda felt like something else was calling her like wisps of ancient magic did during trials. She looked at the ground. No, there were no wisps, but she sensed something.

She saw the ruins of an old home right where she remembered Isidora’s childhood home being. Closest to the well, like in the memory. She slowly walked in and saw the place was mostly bare, with some overturned furniture and a fireplace with a cauldron. Leaning in the corner to the far right was a portrait, and Imelda went over to it. She blinked at seeing the portrait was…burned, with singed marks and everything.

Sebastian came over and saw the portrait too. He frowned as he inspected the singed marks. “It looks like it came from magic of some kind,” he mused.

“Could it be where the fire started?” Imelda asked, still staring at the portrait. She was trying to make out who it was. She had an idea who it was, but she would like some confirmation.

“Perhaps. I think this was intentional. If so, then maybe the fire spell got out of hand and spread faster than they expected.” He sighed. “Still doesn’t tell us much…” He turned to Imelda with furrowed eyebrows. “You know something, though. I can tell.”

Imelda didn’t say anything as she looked around the house. She still felt a pull of some kind. There had to be more. She noticed a part of the wall across from the portrait looked haphazardly structured. “Wait…that looks like it was taken down and rebuilt,” she said. She went to it and casted Depulso on the part of the cobbled wall. The rocks were instantly blown away, and Imelda didn’t hesitate to go further. Sebastian followed her to the other side of the wall, and they both saw a descending stairwell.

“Why bother blocking a stairwell?” Sebastian asked.

“Who bloody knows at this point?” Imelda muttered before going down the stairs with her wand out. She didn’t like how dark it was, nor the strange mist settling along the bottom of the floor. “Lumos.” The tip of her wand glowed as a light, making vines of Devil’s Snare shrivel back to the walls it clung to. “Lovely.” She only hoped there were no spiders…

She noticed a note and picked it up. It was a torn page of a journal entry…from Isidora. Imelda stuffed it into her robe’s pocket and kept moving. At the end of the basement, she saw her wand’s light reflecting something to her left. She turned and saw the stone wall look like a window. Imelda gaped, remembering when she, Professor Fig, and Miriam all those years ago went to the ruins of Rackham’s castle. When she had found a glowing symbol on a stone wall, and then it shifted to look like glass, and she saw Gringotts on the other side.

This time, though… She slowly stepped closer. “Imelda?” Sebastian asked. He sighed and threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know why I bother asking any—”

“I see Ominis.”

Sebastian stopped. He leaned over to look at her expression, trying to see if she’s lying. “Come again?”

Imelda kept staring at the glassy surface, thoroughly confused. “I don’t understand…that’s not the Slytherin common room. There are…stone pillars and hanging candelabras. And so much clutter of junk.”

Sebastian stared at her for a long time and then at the stone wall. “Imelda…did you bump your head when we fought those goblins?”

Imelda groaned with frustration and looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m not crazy,” she stubbornly said.

“Why would I think that?” He dryly asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’re just staring at a stone wall while prattling on about seeing Ominis in a place.”

Imelda hesitated. She knew only she could see things with ancient magic, but she wasn’t sure if she could find any other way to explain it. Except saying she was, in fact, barmy. She looked at the area again, her mind prickling with worry at seeing Ominis there, sitting against a pillar. It wasn’t anywhere she recognized in Hogwarts, nor did it look like the Headmaster’s office. Panic started to come as she wondered if Ominis was taken by Rookwood. Or Harlow. Or his own family?

Imelda’s protective side was coming up again, and she roughly grabbed Sebastian’s arm. “Follow me,” she instructed.

“Follow you where?” He exclaimed, looking at her as if she had grown two heads.

Imelda ignored him and dragged him with her as she reached out with her other hand. The moment she touched it, both of them were transported through in the blink of an eye.

Sebastian gawked at where they were standing, and Imelda instantly walked over to Ominis. Ominis, hearing footsteps all of a sudden, shot up onto his feet, pointing his wand at them. His pale blue eyes were wide with fear. “Who are—?” He paused as he listened carefully to the footsteps. He had a look of complete disbelief on his face. “Imelda?”

“Ominis, are you alright? Are you kidnapped?” She bluntly asked.

“Of course I’m not kidnapped,” Ominis answered, still floored by the fact Imelda was here. “How did you—?”

“I honestly can’t answer that either,” Sebastian spoke up and walked over to the two of them, staring at Imelda with shock. “How are we here, Imelda?”

Imelda looked between them, grasping onto the fact Ominis said he wasn’t kidnapped. He wasn’t in danger. That left one danger for her:

There was no way she could keep her secret from Ominis and Sebastian now.

Chapter Text

Ominis and Sebastian had their eyebrows lifted, waiting for an answer. Imelda felt trapped and unsure. She didn’t know what to do or even say. If only Professor Fig were here…at the very least, he could do the explaining. As she was still going through her internal turmoil, she noticed a swirl of ancient magic embedded into the wall behind Sebastian and Ominis.

“Wait,” she said, walking past them.

“For Merlin’s sake, Imelda!” Sebastian impatiently exclaimed. He turned to her with a glare and pointed at her. “You need to stop dancing around this! Something has been going on since Hogsmeade, and you—”

He stopped when he saw the wall be pushed in to make an alcove. Right against the wall was some sort of large, wooden object. Imelda walked up to it and slowly grabbed the edges in the center and opened it. It was a triptych, and the door on the left had a landscape painting of sorts with a short stone wall, a trodden path, and hills in the background. The door on the right had nothing, but the middle… Imelda stared at the fragment of a note and took it off, inspecting it. It had runes, the ones she had seen before on her way to the Map Chamber where there were all those blasted spi—

Her grip tightened on the paper at the memory, and she forced herself out of it. She slowly turned around and saw Sebastian gaping at the triptych, befuddled. Ominis was close by with furrowed eyebrows. He obviously couldn’t see what was going on, but his reliable sense of hearing wasn’t picking up anything new.

“Imelda? Care to explain?” Ominis asked, his wand pointed in her direction as the tip blinked the red light.

Imelda hesitated. Isidora led her (and Sebastian) here. She didn’t know why, but she knew that since Sebastian and Ominis know this place, they won’t drop the matter. She knew she had been playing around with the idea of confiding in others about her secret, but she was upset that this would happen sooner than she wanted. She didn’t have time to prepare and plan on how to tell them. That made her bitter that this wasn’t on her terms.

Even so…

She took a deep breath. “What I am about to say…it’s barmy,” she carefully started. She threateningly pointed at them with her finger. “You do not breathe a word of this to anyone else, you hear me?”

“Imelda, it’s us,” Sebastian replied. “I mean, look where we’re—” Ominis interrupted him with a poke in the ribs with his wand. Sebastian yelped and gave him an exasperated look. “What? She’s already here, Ominis! We can’t keep it a secret from her now!”

“Just like I can’t keep my things secret from you two,” Imelda added with a frown. She looked around the place. It was strange how…cozy a cluttered place looked. “What is this place, anyway?”

“You first in secret sharing,” Ominis stubbornly insisted. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot. “How did you get in here?”

“Do you want the short answer, or the entire story?” Imelda dryly asked with a hand on her hip.

“Just give us the short answer,” Sebastian answered for them.

“Very well. I…sensed magic and followed it to the basement of that house, and saw you, Ominis, through a glassy wall.”

Both of them looked even more confused. “What do you mean by ‘you sensed magic’?” Ominis asked.

“You wanted the short answer,” she said.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine, tell us the whole bloody story.”

“You both promise to keep this between us?” She firmly asked. She wasn’t taking any chances. She was terrified of confiding in someone, but…she was also really hoping for this to work out.

“Yes,” Ominis said with a hint of impatience.

“You have my word,” Sebastian solemnly replied, but he looked just as impatient as Ominis.

Imelda rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t dispel the nerves churning in her stomach. She wasn’t used to this: being vulnerable. If she couldn’t even bring herself to talk to her housemates that are closest to her, then did she really trust them? With Isidora still fresh on her mind, she remembered how Isidora didn’t seem to have anyone in her life. Was Imelda as isolated as Isidora? A chill went down her spine at that. She didn’t want that.

Then get over yourself, the voice in her head hissed.

Imelda took a deep breath and fought her initial fear of being vulnerable. Her heart was still hammering against her chest, and she tried to calm it down by crossing her arms.

“Do you two remember when in our first year, Professor Fig mentioned pale blue glows of magic in Magic Theory?”

Ominis’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recollect, but Sebastian shifted his weight onto his other leg as it came to him first.

“Didn’t he say that only a few people had seen it centuries ago?” Sebastian asked.

Imelda nodded. “He did,” she affirmed. “The glowing droplets are known as ancient magic.” She sighed. “And…for some reason, I’m one of those people that can see these magic droplets. But I don’t just see it, I can also wield it.”

She turned to Sebastian, who looked perplexed. “That’s what I used to get rid of that troll and…” She thought about the fight she and Sebastian had just dealt with. “That goblin,” she quietly finished, lowering her gaze. With all the panic and adrenaline, Imelda didn’t stop to think about what she had done. Vaporizing a mindless troll was one thing, but doing that to a goblin…it wasn’t like the countless statues and spiders she had done it to. An icy realization ensnared her churning stomach. She killed that goblin… While he wasn’t a human, he was still as sentient as one. That was her first ever kill, then.

“Imelda?” Sebastian asked, trying to regain her attention.

“What goblin?” Ominis added, sounding confused and concerned.

“We had a run in with them at Feldcroft,” Sebastian quickly explained. He stared at Imelda, seeing a blank expression come onto her face. “Imelda?”

The second time he called her name made her blink and snap out of it. She forced away her personal matters the best she could and focused back on them. “I know it’s a lot to grasp, but…back to when Fig taught us that in the first year,” she said. “That was when this entire bloody mess started.”

Ominis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think we should get some chairs, then, before you continue.”

“I concur,” Sebastian replied before walking over to a pile of chairs jumbled together. He started to pull one after another out until he had three.

“Why is there so much clutter in the first place?” Imelda asked with a wrinkled nose. She couldn’t imagine a place of her own having junk strewn about.

“It’s…been in my family for generations; I assume they’ve stored plenty here over the years. It’s a room hidden here in Hogwarts, so that’s probably where some of the clutter came from,” Ominis softly admitted. Imelda looked back at him, nonplussed. He shrugged as he sensed her gaze. “You’ve already started telling us your secret; I…thought it best to return the favor.”

Imelda nodded. If there was one thing she had in common with Ominis, it was that neither of them liked the feeling of having to owe someone. Even if it were something as mundane as a secret. She looked around the place. This was hidden somewhere in Hogwarts? She might not have explored as much as she could have, but she still wondered how Ominis and the twins had managed to keep it from being discovered by others before her.

“Alright, three chairs,” Sebastian announced as he used Wingardium Leviosa to bring the chairs floating over to the middle of the place. They lowered into a triangle, with two facing the remaining chair. Imelda sat in the one, and the boys sat across from her.

“As you were saying,” Sebastian prompted as he leaned forward with interlocked hands while his elbows rested on his knees. His brown eyes glinted with anticipation, finally getting answers that Imelda kept from giving him before.

Ominis merely crossed his leg over his other and crossed his arms with an expectant raise of his eyebrow.

Imelda put her hands on her knees and straightened, already feeling a bit braver in talking about this after the tidbit she gave them. “So, I met with Professor Fig after that class and told him I could see the magic. That led to him contacting his wife, Miriam, who was looking into this ancient magic. Near the end of our first year, she found a container made of goblin metal and inside was a key from Gringotts. The key, though, was also a Portkey…”

As Imelda continued telling them everything that had happened since then, going in length about the trials, the Pensieves, the Restricted Section, and everything else. Imelda surprised herself in how much she talked, but it was like the floodgates opened. She was laying it all out to them, yes, but…she couldn’t think of any other classmates she would confide in more than these two. Garreth popped into her mind, though, and she did admit she considered maybe telling him something. After all, he would want to know why she needed Polyjuice to impersonate the headmaster once they got to that point. However, she knew Sebastian and Ominis longer. They understood each other pretty well, even if they weren’t close before.

She soon finished and sat against the backrest of the chair. She felt so…relieved to have finally told someone all of this. Her shoulders had even felt lighter.

“So there you go. That’s how I found this place.” She impatiently waved to the area around them. “Whatever this place is.”

Sebastian nodded, looking pleased with the explanation. He was like a sponge and absorbed all of the information she gave them. Ominis, on the other hand, had a blank expression while his pale blue eyes showed how mystified he was.

“So, these non-Quidditch Keepers are having you do another trial?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes,” she said, crossing her arms. “I won’t go into too many details about it, but I'm working on it.” She had kept Garreth from being mentioned. She didn’t know why, but…she didn’t like the idea of sharing moments involving him with Sebastian and Ominis.

“All this time, and you’ve been a rule-breaker all along,” Ominis said with a shake of his head, but she could see the slight amusement in his eyes. He even started to slyly smile. “I believe there’s a word for this, Sebastian.”

Sebastian grinned mischievously. “Oh, yes, which one is it again?”

“I believe it is ‘hypocrite’.”

She rolled her eyes. Of course that was the detail they focused on. “Oh, shove off you two,” Imelda grumbled while indignantly flushing. “I normally try to not break rules when I can help it. I’m certain I’ve still broken less rules than you lot!”

Sebastian and Ominis snicker. “All the same, it’s fascinating to know you’ve had this side to you since we’ve known you,” Sebastian reasoned. His teasing went away as he looked at her with a thoughtful expression. “I was wondering, though. If those goblins were snooping around that estate owned by an ancient-magic wielding Hogwarts professor… Is it possible Anne’s curse has something to do with ancient magic?”

Imelda shrugged. “I don’t know,” she honestly answered. “I didn’t see any traces of ancient magic around her.”

Ominis tilted his head. “But you said that you saw a memory where this woman Isidora took away her father’s pain, correct?”

“Yes, you did!” Sebastian instantly added, lighting up at the idea. “Maybe you could take away Anne’s pain!”

Imelda held up a finger. “I don’t know the whole story, though, Sebastian,” she warned. “It could have gone horribly.” Sebastian deflated, and she hesitated. “But…I have already planned on seeing them. I can at least try to ask if they would know if taking away physical pain would be different.”

Sebastian perked up again. He gave Imelda a smile, something that weirded Imelda out because she wasn’t used to a sincere one from him. It was usually a teasing or mischievous one from him. “Thank you, Imelda.”

“Where is this place, the…Map Chamber?” Ominis curiously asked.

“Underneath us,” Imelda answered. “I don’t want to tell you exactly where because I should let those Keepers know beforehand that you two are in on the secret. Otherwise, I don’t want to have to explain why two babbling baboons bumbled into the place.”

Sebastian leaned closer to Ominis and muttered, “Try saying that five times fast.”

“For Merlin’s sake,” she exasperatedly said. She stood up from the chair and crossed her arms again. “You both now know what’s going on. You won’t tell anyone, right?” While she was relieved to have confided in someone, she still felt uncertain.

“Of course!” Sebastian earnestly answered as he rose from his chair. He even put a hand over his heart. “You have my word, your secret is safe.”

“And you have my word as well,” Ominis added, moving to stand up as well. He nodded toward Imelda. “It’s not like we would have anyone else to tell either.”

“Well, what about—?”

“I’d prefer you keep this from your sister from now,” Imelda cut in. “Just…keep this between us.”

“Understood,” Sebastian replied, even if he was a bit disappointed he couldn’t tell Anne. Imelda didn’t think it would go well if he did tell Anne. Anne could try to stop Sebastian from looking into a cure. Or worse, Solomon would know about it and do something about Imelda. She didn’t like that possibility at all.

“I am curious about something myself,” Ominis said. His eyebrows furrowed. “How could Isidora know about this place? This place is known only to the Gaunt family.”

“It is?” Imelda asked, looking around the place. For a family directly descended from a founder of Hogwarts, she had expected a secret place of theirs to be more…lavish.

Ominis nodded. “It is known as the Undercroft, and no one outside of my family would know about it. Sebastian and Anne were the only non-Gaunts that knew about it before you.”

“I don’t know how she could have known,” Imelda said with a shrug. “Unless she was somehow friends with a Gaunt back then. But she was Muggle-born. I doubt that would go well.”

Ominis frowned with a tinge of sadness in his eyes. “Yes, most of my family was horrid in that regard,” he quietly said.

Imelda knew he was different from his family, but she wondered if there was more to it than what she knew at face value. A strange instinct of hers to want to make Ominis feel better came, and she suddenly remembered something.

“Oh,” she mumbled. She reached into the inner pocket of her robe and struggled for a moment. She managed to pull out the biscuit tin, and she held it out to Sebastian. He curiously took it off her hands. “Those are the mincemeat pies Anne made.”

That seemed to have brightened Ominis’s mood, and he turned to Sebastian as he heard his friend open the tin. “Thank you, Imelda,” Ominis said.

Imelda wasn’t used to both of them ever thanking her. She wasn’t used to a lot of things from these two, but…maybe she could grow to get used to it. She felt a nice warmth as she considered that maybe one day, they would regard each other as friends. …That sounded far more sappy than she thought, and she put away her musings that were in her mind.

“I’ve had enough excitement and new things in one day,” she remarked. “I’ll take my leave. You have fun with the pies.”

“Oh, we will,” Sebastian said with a grin before eating one whole. “You sure you don’t want one?”

She grimaced at him asking with his mouth full, and she shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m good.”

Ominis nibbled on a pie, trying to savor it and make it last. “Just leave out that gated door at the end.” He stilled. “Wait, would you rather we escort you out?”

“Why?” Imelda asked with an arched eyebrow. “Is it a treacherous way back to the school?”

Sebastian snorted, but Ominis rolled his eyes. “No, actually. The Undercroft is here in the school.” Imelda blinked in surprise at that, but he didn’t allow her to mull that over as he continued: “After I came back from my dreadful tea time with the Headmaster—who might actually shed hair like a bloody cat—I was in our common room for a moment. I overheard Bulstrode complain about the ‘Ice Queen’.” His sightless eyes looked in her direction as he thoughtfully rotated his mincemeat pie in his fingers. “Did you do something to warrant him to want to retaliate in some boorish way?”

Imelda scoffed. “He was making fun of Poppy in Beasts class, so I stopped him in my usual way.” The two boys sympathetically reached up for their ears at the same time. She threw her hands up in mild annoyance. “Look, I can handle him. If he decides to be an idiot, I can make him regret it.”

“Why, because you’ve handled mongrels, trolls, statues, and spi—?” Sebastian started to list off.

Imelda held up a hand to stop him. “Yes,” she hurriedly said. The memory of that dreadful time of finding the Map Chamber was freshest on her mind after she told them everything. She shivered, and she looked away to not let them (well, Sebastian) know how affected she was by a certain large creature…

Ominis hummed. “Very well. Just be careful,” he said.

She gave him a weirded out look. “Why are you two acting like this?”

“Acting like what?” Sebastian asked as he grabbed another pie.

“Why are you two being genuine and not as teasing as before?” Imelda wrinkled her nose and eyed them warily. “This isn’t normal.”

Ominis laughed through his nose. “A lot of things haven’t been normal lately, Imelda. The troll in Hogsmeade—”

“The goblins,” Sebastian added in between bites.

“Rookwood.”

“Harlow.”

“Oh, and poachers too.”

“Not to mention you and Garreth walking around the halls.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Ominis said with an intrigued gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah, Imelda’s been holding back information about the Potion-Eccentric-Gryffindor.”

Imelda put a hand to her head, annoyance making her cheeks burn. These two being so fixated on such a thing… “I don’t remember you two being like this when I was doing school work with Garreth last year,” she grumbled.

“You had study dates?” Sebastian needled with a grin.

“You want a piercing instead of a pinching?” She asked back, holding her thumb and pointer finger out threateningly toward his ear. Sebastian instantly put his free hand up to cover and protect his ear. She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “Garreth is helping me with something involving these trials.”

“That’s it?” Ominis asked with a small lift at the corner of his mouth as if he were holding back a smile.

“That’s it,” she firmly said. “Honestly! Why would there be anything else?”

Sebastian shrugged. “You’re still hung up on Isaac?”

Imelda instantly blushed more at that and looked away with her jaw clenching tightly. She hoped her fancy wasn’t as obvious to everyone else as it apparently was to Sebastian and Ominis. “Of course I am,” she answered with a little waver in her voice. She reproachfully glared at him. “Is that a problem?”

“No, but you’ve been vying for him since, what, second year?” Sebastian asked.

Imelda waved him off, not wanting to even correct him that she was certain she started fancying him since third year. “Whatever. I’m going now.”

“You’ll find yourself in a nook right next to the stairs leading up to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom,” Ominis offered to help.

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to envision the location. Was that why she always saw the three of them around the DADA Tower? That…actually made sense.

“Understood,” she replied. “Have fun with your mincemeat pies.”

“See you back at the common room,” Sebastian piped up as she started walking away. She waved over her shoulder to acknowledge his farewell.

She was impressed that they had a secret place. She technically had a couple, but there was one that was personal for her. One that felt like a sanctuary for her. She suddenly remembered something: she made a garden at her sanctuary as she decided to grow her own potions ingredients there where she believed had more fertile soil than potting soil. She was certain that she had some Shrivelfigs growing there…

She started to plan it out in her head as the gated door slid up upon her approach. She stepped in the small corridor between the gated door and the other door, and the moment the gated door slid back down, the door in front of her opened. It was far thicker and looked heavy, almost like it was a door to a vault in Gringotts. She stepped out, and when it closed, she looked back to see the couple clocks on it had their hands spin around with clicking noises.

Wouldn’t the sounds attract people? How did no one hear it before? She shook her head, mystified how she never noticed before now.

She walked out of the area, and she now saw what Ominis meant. The horned animal skeleton was right there, and next to her were the stairs to the classroom. It wouldn’t be hard to find the Undercroft again as it was in a very memorable spot, all things considered.

Imelda made her way back to the Slytherin common room. She wanted to get her Night Dancer to fly out to her sanctuary, as well as put in some flying practice for the day. The day was still young, with it being late afternoon, and people were still out to enjoy the nice weather on a weekend. The common room had a few more Housemates this time, but they didn’t pay any mind to her. She didn’t see Bulstrode either, so she figured he wasn’t going to be a problem. At least Ominis gave her a heads-up anyway.

When she got to her dorm, she saw an eagle owl standing on the little perch by her bed. Her eyebrows furrowed as she saw a note tied to its leg. She opened her trunk and rummaged around before finding and taking out the owl treats. She gave one to it, and it happily nibbled on the treat while she got the note off. It made a small screech noise before flying out of the dorm.

Imelda curiously opened the folded note. She didn’t know who could be writing to her. If it were Garreth she was certain he would have just found her and talked to her face-to-face. Maybe Onai and Poppy? But they surely hadn’t found anything this soon, right?

Imelda’s eyebrows shot up to see it was neither of them, and her stomach flipped with nervous excitement as she saw it was from Isaac. The note said:

I hope your weekend is going well! I was informed that you would be out for a bit, but I wanted to let you know that Kogawa and I finally got the first time trial ready! When you are able to this weekend, come meet us on the Quidditch Pitch. I’ll probably be there all day today, overseeing other participants. I look forward to how you’ll fare!

Issac

Imelda had a tiny smile on her face with a blush. Isaac had written to her! Granted, it was only about the time trial, but still. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought, and she hurriedly grabbed her Quidditch uniform. She could do this time trial and then do her other things afterward. She had time.

Kitted out in her Quidditch uniform and with her trusty broom in her hand, she proudly strode out of the common room and made her way through the castle to the Bell Tower. Once she walked out onto the Hogwarts Grounds, she speed-walked around the fountain and about to walk through the Entrance Gates at the North Exit.

A flicker of movement, however, made her curiously slow down. She looked over to where she saw it in the corner of her eye. It was something in the shadows of the bailey, behind the large gated doors. She knew that was where they stored the horseless carriages, but she could have sworn something was moving inside.

She moved her broom to her left hand and took out her wand, warily approaching it. The tip of her wand was at the ready, glowing blue-white with ancient magic. This time, it might be needed, if some hooligans of Rookwood managed to get this close. Her mind drifted to the time she killed the goblin with her ancient magic, and she wondered if she could do that to another being. Even a human…

She shook her head as she was strengthened by her resolve. If they were intent on killing her or worse, she was warranted to self-defense. That at least made the pit in her stomach lessen.

Imelda got closer, but she didn’t see any looming figure. Did she imagine it?

Until she saw something move again. She looked further in through the gated door, and she froze at the sight. Thin, black, skeletal horse-like creatures she only knew from drawings from Beasts class, having never been able to see them in person.

Until now.

She could now see Thestrals in the stables…

Chapter Text

Imelda was numbly walking to the Quidditch Pitch with her mind still whirling. She could see Thestrals. She knew the requirements for that, and she now knew for certain that she killed a goblin. She didn’t know why that fact stayed with her. She knew that there was no other way; the goblin was going to kill Sebastian if she didn’t stop him. She knew that. So, why did her stomach feel heavy? This was impacting her far more than she expected.

Her mind stopped going into a spiral when she stepped onto the pitch. She inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh scent of grass. At least one thing was constant in her life and could always reassure her: Quidditch.

“Hey, you made it!”

Imelda’s stomach excitedly flipped when she heard Isaac’s voice. She looked up from the ground, her heart beating really fast at seeing Isaac jog up to her. He was wearing his Quidditch uniform as well, with the arm guards on and the classic cape lined with silver thread. He grinned at her with pearly whites and ran his gloved hand through his ink black, messy hair.

“I didn’t know how long you’d be away,” he said. “Did you have a good time?”

Well, I witnessed family drama and fought goblins, she thought. “More or less,” was all she said to answer.

Isaac chuckled and gave her a one-armed hug around her shoulders, making her tense up and have the Snitches in her stomach fly in more of a frenzy. She was thankful she hadn’t eaten much or she would have thrown up. She felt a little less nervous when she took in Isaac’s scent of cinnamon.

“Let’s see how you do, then!” Isaac cheerfully said, guiding her to the small wooden platform on the pitch. “Purus already did the trial. He got an adequate time of three minutes. Better than Clopton’s of three and a half minutes.”

Imelda made a small noise of contempt. Of course Clopton would try, even though he was still not respectful of brooms or flying in general. She noticed the board next to the little stage. She lifted an eyebrow as she recognized Prewett’s on the list of recorded times, with the time of four minutes. This was only the first time trial, so she wasn’t that impressed with her classmates’ times.

“And what is your time?” Imelda asked as she got up onto the stage. She forced her mind to drop all other thoughts except doing well in the time trial. This was what she wanted: something to do with flying if she couldn’t do Quidditch. This was her livelihood, her escape. She would do well like she had always before.

She swung her leg over her broom and rolled her shoulders back. She felt in tune with her broom like always before, and she took a deep breath, trying to rid herself of any more tension.

“Two minutes and a half,” Isaac said with a confident grin that made her heart beat irregularly. “Think you can beat that?”

“I know I can,” she confidently replied. Hearing Isaac chuckle made her feel a little better, even if her stomach was still full of Snitches. She finally looked up and saw the first hoop far ahead of her and close to the center of the pitch. Then there was another on the end of a small ledge just past the pitch. She could see the next one after that, and it seemed like the trail would have her go out of the Hogwarts Grounds.

“If there’s anyone I’d like to have beat my record it would be you,” Isaac replied with his usual warm sincerity. Imelda couldn’t help but blush, her stomach flipping now with anticipating nerves. If she got to impress Isaac as well as win the time trials, that would be a nice bonus, she supposed.

Isaac took out his pocket watch and then had his alder wand tap it while he muttered something. He looked up at Imelda, his jade green eyes lit with excitement. “There are twenty-two hoops to fly through. Well, the last one is technically more of a wooden arch made of posts, but that’s to show that is the end of the trial.” He picked up his Night Dancer that was by the stage and mounted it. “I’ll be riding with you while I time you.” He gave her a playful grin, which made her stomach feel like it was now doing somersaults. She really needed to get her feelings under control… “Don’t worry about me, just go as fast as you can handle.”

“Got it,” she replied, her voice sounding strained as she tried to hide her flustered state. She looked straight ahead again, adjusting the grip on her broom as she did so. Riding on her determination to excel, she added, “I certainly hope you’ll be able to time me when I’m out of sight.”

Isaac chuckled again. “We’ll see. Are you ready?”

She nodded and prepared to take off, ready to go when he was.

“And…go!”

Imelda instantly pushed herself off the stage and flew to the first hoop, easily going through it. She smiled to herself, feeling more at ease the longer she was in the air. She was back in her element, everything was fine. Everything made sense, like the wind whistling her ears and blowing into her face and hair.

She made it through the first thirteen hoops without a problem, and she even enjoyed the view of Hogsmeade and Hogsmeade Station. She dove down by the bridge of Hogsmeade Station, still maintaining her high speed as she went through the next set of hoops. She wanted to check to see how far back Isaac was, but she didn’t want to accidentally distract herself.

With how at ease she was, and with her riding like it’s in her blood, her mind started to drift. Unfortunately, her mind was still revolving around seeing Thestrals, which led her to envision again the moment of her killing that goblin. Why couldn’t she let it go? She had to kill him! She didn’t have time to utter the casting of a spell, right? There was no other way to save Sebastian from harm, right? Imelda felt like ice was creeping into her blood as she considered that maybe she did have enough time to say Accio to pull Sebastian out of the way or even Depulso to get the goblin away. It was only a couple seconds before she saw Sebastian in danger and then used her ancient magic. Her magic was always at the ready and could be used faster than other spells. She knew that from barely surviving several encounters. She would have to just accept the fact she did what she thought was best and killed that goblin. She needed to accept that—

“Imelda!”

Imelda jolted as it sounded like Isaac had caught up to her and was close behind. Her heart plunged as she realized she was so lost in thought that she slowed down. She hissed a Spanish curse under her breath and readjusted her hold on her broom, leaning forward. She sped up again, and she tried to make up for severely lost time for the last few hoops, but she knew it was in vain.

Imelda felt her face burn in shame as she slowed to a stop after flying through the wooden arch. She swiftly landed and held her broom tightly in her hand. “How bad was it?” She asked, not even looking at Isaac.

“It wasn’t bad,” he gently told her.

She huffed. “It was awful! I went slow!” If her family saw her perform like that, she knew they would have been immensely disappointed in her.

Isaac winced sympathetically. Imelda wasn’t sure whether to feel babied or honored that he looked at her with a sincere and kind gaze. “I know that’s not how you normally fly.”

Imelda felt more heat in her cheeks as she sighed deeply. “What was the time?”

“Two minutes and thirty-five seconds.”

Imelda growled under her throat and turned around to have her back at Isaac. Now she felt even more embarrassed. If she wasn’t such a moonmind, she would have gone faster than Isaac; she knew she was faster than him!

“You can go again,” Isaac offered.

“Are you giving me a second chance?” Imelda incredulously demanded, whirling around to look at him. Her pride made her forget about her little fancy as she processed the fact Isaac was offering to let her win.

Isaac patiently nodded. “You weren’t thinking clearly, obviously,” he calmly explained. “I know that if you were in your right mind, you would have performed brilliantly.”

Imelda looked away, gritting her teeth in agitation. He was right, of course, but… “No, I don’t want a second chance.”

Isaac didn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence felt tense between them. “Are you sure?”

“I am not going to be pandered,” she insisted, finally mustering up some dignity to look at him. “Just…let that be my official time,” she muttered. She wasn’t sure if she was swallowing her pride to have such an awful personal time or if she was being prideful in not trying again. “It will make me even more determined to do better in the next trial.” Even if it kills me that it wasn’t my best, she bitterly thought.

Isaac shrugged. “If you’re sure,” he said. “But I hope that whatever was on your mind doesn’t stay there. It seemed to really take you out of it.” He tilted his head, looking at her with curiosity. “What was it?”

Imelda opened her mouth, but she couldn’t fathom what to say. What could she say? She would tell Isaac, her fellow and favorite Quidditch teammate, that she killed a goblin and could now see Thestrals? Which would then lead to her explaining everything else, like she had just told Sebastian and Ominis?

Her heart sank as she realized she couldn’t do that. She didn’t want to. Isaac had always been someone she could just play Quidditch with. Quidditch was always her escape from the insanity that was her life involving her blasted ancient magic. Not only that, but…she didn’t want Isaac to look at her differently because of it.

So she closed her mouth and looked away. “I’ll figure it out,” she mumbled.

Isaac merely shrugged again. “If you’re sure,” he repeated, sounding rather nonchalant. “I’ll let you know when the next trial is.” He reached out and gently ruffled her hair like he usually did. He grinned at her. “Take care, okay?”

“You too,” she managed to say while being red in the face for another reason.

“I’m going to see Weekes about us getting upgrades for our brooms.” His grin stayed bright like sunlight and it made Imelda’s heart skip beats. “We are still the two best fliers, after all.”

Imelda smiled a bit, reassured by that fact. It was true, even if she was supposed to be the best, she didn’t mind that Isaac was the contender for the spot. She nodded to him. “See you in the common room?” She asked, trying to not sound too hopeful.

“Yeah, probably!” He cheerfully answered as he mounted his broom. “I’ll see you there.” With that, he took off, heading for Hogsmeade.

Imelda watched him leave her sight and then she looked at her broom. Now that she was alone, she felt all of her bitterness come back. She scowled, peeved that she let herself get distracted and did horribly at the time trial as a result. In front of Isaac as well! She felt humiliated, and she knew it would worsen once people saw the times on the board. She could easily imagine the jeering that would happen, and she felt even more upset because it would be false claims! She was the best player and flier, she knew it!

Imelda raised her hand, about to throw her broom at the ground in anger, but she stopped herself. She sighed heavily as she remembered her grandfather, when he taught her how to fly, telling her to never take her anger out on her companion. It was disrespectful to the broom, and dishonorable to herself. She could be mad at herself all she wanted, but never at the broom. It wasn’t the broom’s fault for heeding her control. She got distracted, and she had to swallow her pride and accept her loss.

It was bloody painful to do.

Imelda mounted her broom and took off, heading for the Forbidden Forest. She had a means to go there, after all, to her sanctuary. As she flew there, she thought about Sebastian and Ominis’s reactions when she told them she went to such a place. They looked so shocked with mouths agape and raised eyebrows at the idea of Imelda being in the Forbidden Forest, where students theoretically shouldn’t be, but some go anyway. It was amusing to see their faces, but Imelda wondered if she would have gone in the Forest if she never had to find those pages and find the Map Chamber.

Imelda soon came upon her spot, and she slowly descended to land on the bank of the large pond. Behind her was the entrance to the passage to the Map Chamber, but she was more focused on the serene, glassy surface of water reflecting the dozens of fireflies and lacewing flies hovering over it. She felt like her rattled thoughts about goblins and Thestrals were finally going away along with her sourness from earlier. She walked along the bank, and saw across the pond was a stag lapping up water. She always saw such regal creatures here, and it was a beautiful, peaceful sight to see.

She came to the conclusion that even if she didn’t have to look for pages or some hidden chamber, she thought she would have traversed here. If it meant she would have a place to have as her own safe haven away from people and responsibilities, she would have broken a rule and gone into the Forest.

Imelda scoffed to herself with a tiny smile forming. Maybe she really was more of a rule-breaker than she thought.

She went along the bank some more until she found a small plot of tilled soil. It took a lot of time, but she had spent her third year growing her own potion ingredients. She got the idea after Garreth, still new in experimenting, accidentally ruined Onai’s mandrake leaves from another failed potion innovation. Onai had scolded him about how she had just pruned her mandrake from Herbology, and Imelda realized how much faith they were putting into their Herbology plants to survive and thrive for Potions class. So, she had managed the best she could to prepare a garden and grow the essential potion ingredients: fluxweed, dittany, mandrake, knotgrass, and even…

Imelda squatted next to a plant that had four of the purple fruit, fresh and ripe, over and under a few leaves. She grabbed a Shrivelfig and plucked it off the bunch, and then she shrugged and grabbed the others. She wouldn’t mind a surplus of Shrivelfigs at her disposal. Or…maybe Garreth would like some…

She frowned, wondering why he kept coming to mind, but she quickly dismissed that. It was only because she knew him as a passionate potion brewer. Shrivelfigs were used in potions, so of course he was who she thought of first.

She stuffed the Shrivelfigs into the inner pockets of her Quidditch robes, and then she got on her broom to fly out of there. She was certain Sebastian and Ominis would be done by now in the Undercroft, and then she could see about giving Sebastian one.

She looked back at the pond and took a deep breath. She felt soothed by the scent of fresh air and fresh water, as well as the earthy scents of soil and trees around her. This place was just what she needed today. Even if she was leaving soon, this brief moment was enough to dispel all of her inner turmoil.

Feeling much better, Imelda mounted her broom and flew off again, now returning to Hogwarts. She half-heartedly noticed that she was indeed flying far faster than she did in the last half of her time trial. She just hoped that she could put to rest her thinking and be able to focus like she had always been able to before. At the very least, she still felt relaxed and at peace while flying like usual.

Imelda soared right over the Hogwarts Grounds, then between the Bell Tower and West Tower, over the Transfiguration Courtyard, past the Central Hall and Ravenclaw Tower. She flew over the Viaduct Bridge, and she was certain she saw Garreth at his usual spot as she slowed down to descend in the Viaduct Courtyard. There might have been someone with him, but she didn’t get a good look.

She landed and thought of maybe just walking to him to give him some extra Shrivelfigs, but she told herself it was better to go to Sebastian first as he was the reason she even went to harvest her garden. She would have to catch Garreth later, or even during their first class of the week.

Imelda took the strap of her broom and shouldered it, walking into the Entrance Hall where the doors were left open for students coming and going. She went through the hall and went into the Reception Hall, partly taking notice that the Slytherin hourglass was not as full of emeralds as the Hufflepuff one was full of diamonds. She kept her brisk pace as she went to the Grand Staircase Tower. She felt that same crawling feeling in her spine that made her think someone was watching her. She tried to dismiss it, though, as this was Hogwarts where there were plenty of students just standing around and watching people walk this way and that. She was probably still paranoid from all the fighting she did earlier.

She frowned to herself, thinking that feeling was still there, but not as apparent. As she kept walking, she tried to discreetly look over her shoulder to see if she really was paranoid or if she was vigilant.

All that time and thinking about who was behind her didn’t have her notice someone at the bottom of the stairs.

Imelda barely let out a small yell of shock when someone grabbed her shoulder and forced her into an alcove nearby. She grunted when her back collided against the stone wall, and she glared at her attacker.

Hamish Bulstrode glared back at her. “Did you really think I would forget what happened in Beasts class?” He asked.

“Shove off, Hamish,” Imelda snapped. She moved to push herself off the wall and move past him, but he grabbed her shoulder again and forced her back to where she was. She felt irritation rise in her, not ever liking being cornered, especially by a classmate of hers. She was even more annoyed that he was naturally stronger than her.

She was about to whip out her wand, but then she was paralyzed with fear as Hamish conjured a black spider on his palm. Her heart plunged, and she instinctively tried to back away, but the wall was immobile. It was only a little one, too, until—

“Engorgio,” Hamish said, and her breathing became ragged as the spider grew to be the size of Hamish’s palm. It wasn’t even close in size to the dreadful ones she had fought and killed and even tried to run away from.

(*****)

Imelda started to hyperventilate, trying to look anywhere but at the spider, but Hamish was relentless, keeping it close to her face. Merlin, she could see all eight beady eyes…

“The Ice Queen is afraid of a bug,” Hamish mused in a delightful, sadistic tone. “I don’t see the problem. They just have many legs and many eyes, oh, and mandibles too. Not to mention they are skillful in web-making. What’s not to like about them?”

Imelda was quivering with fear, and she tried to keep back a whimper as the spider walked to the tips of Hamish’s fingers. “Stop it,” she whispered, pure terror in her voice. Her vision was blurring, and her throat felt tight, and a flood of unpleasant memories came to her.

Hamish didn’t notice the last part, but he snickered at how frightened she was. “If you’re only about to cry now, I wonder if you will bawl like a child if he got just a little…closer…”

Imelda couldn’t move, she felt helpless, and she flashbacked to that awful, horrible passage she went through to find Jackdaw’s skeleton. All those Scurriers and Shooters and Ambushers… All of them scurrying to her and rearing up to sink their horrible fangs into her. The time she took the extremely wrong turn and she was surrounded by all kinds of giant spiders, some even coming down from a webbed line.

Not to mention the Matriarches… She still remembered clearly when one of the Matriarchs managed to get her on her back, and it towered over her, staring her down with all of those creepy eyes. Then it made its wicked screech and went down to bite her, and she desperately held up her arm to shield herself…

(*****)

The spider suddenly shrank in size, and Hamish frowned, obviously not knowing how that happened. He looked gobsmacked as the spider flew out of his hand and it went behind him. Hamish whirled around and froze when he saw Garreth was standing there with his wand out. Garreth glared daggers at Hamish as he kept using the Summoning Charm to bring the spider to him. Then he forced the spider on the floor before he stomped on it, digging his heel in to ensure its death.

“W-Weasley, what are you doing here?” Hamish asked with his back now to Imelda, who was still out of it and trembling like a leaf.

“I should ask you the same,” Garreth harshly said back. “Terrorizing your housemate? How much of a wanker can you be?”

Hamish scowled as his ears turned pink. “This is none of your business, Weasley!” He aimed his wand at Garreth and threatened, “Now go or regret it.”

Garreth rolled his eyes. “We’re not duelling,” he said.

“And why not?”

“Because I don’t care to have formalities with a prick.” In an instant, he pointed his wand at Hamish and uttered a casting incantation.

Hamish yelled in shock as his tongue was turned into a horn. His hand flew up to his mouth, trying to cover the abomination but then Garreth sent another hex at him, making him sneeze. Sardines came out of his mouth from the sneeze, and he yelped when a third hex hit him. His face was starting to look like a dozen bees stung him.

“Word of advice,” Garreth drawled, twirling his wand. “Don’t mess with someone that is proficient in humiliation. You’ll only look like the bigger fool.”

Bulstrode didn’t stick around, running to presumably the Slytherin House entrance, and Garreth stuck his foot out, tripping him as one last attack to him. Bulstrode fell onto the floor, and then he let out another sneeze, more sardines coming out of his mouth. Garreth scowled as he watched the pathetic peer crawl before running again with his tail between his legs.

Garreth’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh…I should have added a tail,” he muttered to himself. He shook his head, dropping the matter. He did plenty already, and what mattered most was…

He hurried to Imelda, seeing she was still shaken and pale. “Imelda?” He quietly asked, lowering his head to meet her eyes. They were glazed over, and he saw a few tears had even fallen down. He felt something come to life in him, like a dragon roaring for more vengeance. He was starting to think he didn’t overdo it with that bully.

Imelda was still lost in her tumult, feeling like the webs that a Shooter hit her with entrapped her just like before. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t flee in terror.

Then…she felt something grab her arms, and she thought it was those disgusting webs, but…there was warmth and comfort in the sturdy hold. Nothing like silky and uneasy wetness. Imelda blinked, and through the haze of the past and her blurry vision, she still saw eyes. But there were only two, not eight. Sea-green full of concern instead of beady black. The rest of the person came into focus, and she saw herself face-to-face with Garreth. His countless freckles stood out from his hardly flushed face, and his wavy red hair almost looked orange from the lit torches nearby.

“Imelda?” He softly asked, his gaze still full of concern.

She couldn’t even bring herself to feel embarrassed or angry to be in such a state of weakness. Those memories were still seared into her mind, and she couldn’t ignore them, feeling like she still saw those monstrous fiends whenever she closed her eyes. She let out a strangled sound, and that she didn’t think before launching herself into Garreth, holding onto him. Her shoulders started to shake from pitiful crying as she kept trembling head-to-toe. She was just so desperate for comfort of any kind, that she didn’t care for once how this looked.

Garreth’s hands retracted from her arms when she hugged him tightly, completely surprised by her action. Then he slowly put his hands on her back, rubbing it as she kept sobbing into his robes. She still had her broom strapped on her shoulder, so it made his attempt at comfort awkward, but he still tried.

He looked around, and frowned to see that some students walking by were curious about the spectacle. He glared threateningly at them, feeling protective of Imelda as he knew she would hate for plenty of others to see her like this.

He searched the area and found a door close by. He somewhat carried and dragged Imelda with his arms around her as he walked them to it. He quickly grabbed the doorknob and silently thanked Merlin that it was unlocked. It was an empty broom closet that had enough room for them, and he moved them in, closing the door behind them. He cast the Sticking Charm on the closet door as well, to keep anyone from opening it from the outside. He knew the counterspell to it, so he wasn’t concerned about them being locked in.

He felt Imelda slump into him, and he gently lowered them to the floor with his back against the wall. Her Night Dancer broom was mostly standing on its end, and he slipped it off and leaned it against the wall across from them.

Imelda was still curled up close to him, clutching onto the robes on his back, her face buried into his shoulder. He held her for as long as she needed, ignoring how warm it felt in the closet. All that mattered to him was for Imelda to be okay.

She didn’t know how long it was, but her small cries dwindled to sniffles, and then finally, it was just staggered breathing. Imelda didn’t move just yet, slowly processing how Garreth loosely held her in his arms. She was still close to him as if he was giving her the freedom to move away if she wanted. Or if she wanted to stay here, that was fine too.

She didn’t leave his arms, wrapping her mind around such a concept that was foreign to her. She never had anything like this, growing up. Maybe her mother would have come to her if she cried from nightmares, but she wasn’t seven anymore. When she was terrorized by nightmares when she was thirteen, she tried to stay quiet to not disturb her dormmates. Other times, she would have just left the dorm and curled up next to the dying fire in the common room, somewhat falling asleep there.

She never had someone to really turn to for comfort. Professor Fig helped her, yes, but she didn’t want to dump everything on him. He was still a professor that had to do plenty for every other student in the school. He had been concerned for her when she told him what happened when she looked for the pages, but the damage was already done at that point. She didn’t think his fatherly care would have helped her.

And yet…when her terrified scar was reopened, there was something so selfishly nice to have someone here with her. She didn’t know what Garreth did to her, but she somehow always felt safe in his arms. Just like she did when he had his arm around her to help her into the Three Broomsticks. Or when he held her ears to protect her a bit from the cold weather.

Her heart rate had slowed down for the most part, but it still felt slightly irregular despite being calm. She forced her hands to open and let go of the bunched-up fabric she held on his back. His hand that was running up and down her back made her breathe deeply in time with it. Her face felt like it was drying from tears she knew she shed, and even though there was so much warmth in this spot, it wasn’t sweltering to her. The final grounding reassurance to her was the mint smell that filled the area, the fresh spring-like scent reminding her of her safe haven in a way.

“You didn’t have to—” She tried to protest with a tight voice.

“None of that,” he dismissed, his deep voice somehow calming her as well. “What that prat did was despicable. I would never let anyone suffer like that, especially you.”

“Because I’m me?” She wryly asked.

“Well, that, and because you’re a friend of mine,” he answered. “And I always look after my friends.”

Her eyebrows furrowed at the term. Friends… The fact it was a term she wasn’t sure Sebastian and Ominis would use to refer to her, but the way Garreth easily said it was if it were common knowledge.

“We’re friends?” She quietly asked. In the future, she would probably look back on this and hate how small she sounded, but at the moment, she didn’t care.

She moved her head back and looked up at him. Garreth looked at her with sincerity that floored her. She was used to seeing him with a boyish grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. But now, he looked entirely solemn and serious, as if he had removed a mask to show something under his usual act.

“Of course,” he murmured as if it were obvious.

Imelda felt like a war was going on in her mind and heart. On the one hand, it…delighted her that she really did have someone to call as a friend. Maybe Poppy would call her a friend too, but they were more like acquaintances at the moment. Again, Sebastian and Ominis could be her friends too, but she wasn’t entirely sure. Garreth had been the first and only one to bravely call them friends.

However, on the other hand, it terrified her. What if she drove him away? She was frankly surprised that he wasn’t already deterred after she cried into him and held him like a scared child. He did kind of comfort her before, when she was briefly terrified by that awful picture in that Restricted Section book. This was a hundred times worse, though, but…he didn’t pull away or keep away from her.

She didn’t know why.

Well, if she were to be completely cynical or think Garreth was more of a Slytherin, she would think he would use this as blackmail against her. The way he looked at her obliterated that suspicion, though.

She was starting to feel uncomfortable from acting this vulnerable for so long, and she moved away. There was a half-second of resistance from Garreth before he let her go. She looked up and saw they were in a broom closet, but there was thankfully enough room for her to wrap her arms around her knees and lean against the wall across from Garreth. He moved his legs in to sit criss-cross.

Imelda didn’t meet his eyes, feeling her face burn with embarrassment now. She stiffened when she saw an orange-colored handkerchief come into her view. She slowly looked up at the hand holding it, then his arm, and then up at his eyes.

“I figured you might need it,” he said while still offering it to her.

Imelda wanted to refuse, but the other option was to use her sleeves, where parts of it had her arm guards. She sighed and begrudgingly took it and used it to dry her eyes and then clean her face. She could even smell mint coming from the handkerchief.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied.

There was a moment of tense silence as Imelda held onto the cloth and Garreth drummed his fingers on his knees.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” He suggested.

Imelda glared at the ground. “What’s there to talk about? I acted like a crybaby,” she snapped.

“There’s nothing wrong with your reaction,” he firmly told her. She looked at him incredulously, but he merely stared back at her with stubborn conviction. “Your dolt of a housemate knew your fear and used it against you. It was cruel, and if someone did the same to me, trapping me close to my fear, I wouldn’t be able to handle it either.”

Imelda didn’t say anything and hugged her knees closer to herself. She leaned her cheek against her knee, staring at the wooden closet door. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I doing what?”

She impatiently huffed and looked back at him, feeling irritated that he looked so confused about why she would ask such a thing. Why did he act like it was a common occurrence to comfort someone like this?

“Why are you…” She tried to find a word, and she helplessly gestured to all of him. “Nice?” She finished.

Garreth frowned, now looking offended. “What, do you expect me to ignore something that utterly wracked you with fear and caused you to break down? Or even use it somehow as an advantage against you?”

Imelda froze as the last accusation was accurate to what she partly suspected. That was the wrong reaction, as she saw his green eyes flicker with hurt. She felt a strange ache in her chest in response.

“Merlin’s pants, you really do expect that,” he whispered in shock, shaking his head.

“I, not exactly,” she protested pathetically. She felt fear tighten the sensation in her chest, as if it was hard for her to breathe or even hard for her heart to beat normally.

Garreth sighed and got up to stand. “If that’s really what you think of me—” He started.

“Wait, stop,” she desperately said, shooting onto her feet so quickly, she jostled her broom. She hastily caught her broom and then sighed. She looked up at him, at least grateful he didn’t leave. “I…I did think that at first, but…you’re not like that.”

“Of course I’m not,” he indignantly said.

“I know that,” she irately replied. “But give me a break. I’ve never…” She trailed off and looked away. Even though she literally was at her most vulnerable with him a few moments ago, she still didn’t like admitting such things.

She felt him curiously stare at her, and then she felt his hand on her shoulder. That strange warmth exuded from his hand, and she looked back up at him. He looked at her solemnly again with his sea green eyes looking darker than normal from how serious his gaze was.

“Your secret is safe with me, Imelda,” he quietly said. “I know you have plenty of them, but you can trust me. Haven’t I gained your trust already? What with us making a specific potion?”

Imelda felt ashamed as she realized he was right. She had to have already trusted him to an extent with asking for his potion-brewing services. She really was a fool. Her cheeks burned at her self-admonishment.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper, meeting his eyes. She couldn’t believe it, but she was hoping he would believe her. She also couldn’t believe that it was easier for her to apologize, but maybe that was because she was already afraid to lose a friend so soon.

He searched her expression, and even though she felt nervous from how piercing his gaze was, that warmth was still there as a reassurance. “I believe you,” he softly replied. He gave her a tiny smile. “And I forgive you.”

That at least made her feel a little better. Her fear was put to rest; she didn’t muck this friendship up yet.

Imelda lowered her gaze, biting her lip. She didn’t know why, but the relief she felt made her compelled to say more.

“I…hate spiders. That’s obvious,” she bitterly said. Her fear stayed with her, but she focused on the reassurance that she could trust Garreth. She trusted Sebastian and Ominis with far more, this didn’t have to be a big deal. Nonetheless, it was. “I…never liked them growing up, but the reason why I acted like…” She choked on her words, remembering the blur of terror and desperation that swirled within like a storm. “That,” she lamely continued, “was because…I dealt with worse and bigger spiders when I was thirteen.”

“Thirteen?” He echoed, aghast. “But, where could you have possibly encountered them?”

“The Forbidden Forest,” she answered. She finally looked back at him to see his eyebrows shot up with his eyes wide with shock.

“What in Merlin’s name were you doing—?” Garreth stopped and sighed, withdrawing his hand to put it to his head. She frowned a bit from the action. “Nevermind. At this point, I’ve come to accept that you are dealing with far more than the rest of us, whatever it is.”

There was a moment of silence again, but it felt more comfortable this time. She leaned back against the wall and put her hands in front of herself, still holding onto the orange handkerchief. She waited for Garreth to say something, but he seemed to be mulling something over.

Imelda wondered if she should tell him more, but what good would that do? She already told Sebastian and Ominis, but that was because she was mostly forced to. She was trapped, and she couldn’t lie—

Her eyes widened as well as she realized why this felt like a big deal. She had control on what to say to Garreth, what to trust him with. Sure, he saw her at a horrible time of her flashing back to one of the most traumatizing moments of her life. But she didn’t have to explain herself. She didn’t have to admit her encounter to him. Then she did, and she trusted him with it.

“Deep water,” he said out of the blue.

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed, and she stared hard at him. “What?”

“That’s my biggest fear,” he explained in a small voice for once. He looked at her with a grimace, and then he shifted on his feet, suddenly interested in the floor. “I…don’t like large bodies of water, because I don’t know what could be lurking in there. I don’t dare go near them, and I would much rather do anything other than take a dip in the Black Lake.” He shuddered, and Imelda was seeing that he wasn’t putting up an act for her. He really was this vulnerable and open to her at this moment.

“Do you know how to swim?” Imelda awkwardly asked. If he didn’t know how to swim, she could understand why he wouldn’t like the lake.

“Yes, I do,” he said with some exasperation as if he had this conversation with someone before. Before she could even feel strangely bitter about such a thing, he continued. “My siblings think I’m barmy for knowing how to swim but having a problem with swimming in lakes and such.” He sighed and shrugged. “But I’ve read plenty, and I know about Grindylows and merpeople and kelpies. Not to mention the nonmagical water demons out there.” He shivered at the thought.

Imelda wasn’t sure what to make of this. She now felt it was ironic that the color of his eyes made her think of the sea when he probably wouldn’t approach the shore even if someone promised him all of the possible rare potion ingredients in return. She supposed even Gryffindors had limits to their bravery.

“Why…tell me this?”

Garreth blinked, the disturbed look on his face gone as he turned to her. Then he gave her a sly smile, something she wasn’t expecting from him after admitting what he did. “Leverage,” he lightly said. “Now you have something about me that I never told my other friends. You’re so worried about ‘blackmail’”—he made air-quotes with the last word—“and I thought you would appreciate something in return as assurance.”

Imelda gaped at him. He…freely told her his worst fear because of her concern of what he would do with her arachnophobia?

“Trust goes both ways, Imelda,” he added in a soft voice. His smile turned more kind as he put his hand over his heart. “I trust you as much as you trust me.”

She didn’t think she could ever understand how someone could act like this. He didn’t keep an advantage like a Slytherin would. He instead leveled the playing field, so to speak. It was astounding to her.

Garreth took out his wand and waved it while uttering an incantation. “I think we’ve been in here long enough,” he quietly announced. “I’ll let you know if complications arise in the stewing, but I doubt that would ever happen. So, I guess I’ll just see you in class.”

Imelda suddenly grabbed his sleeve, and he stopped from grabbing the doorknob. He looked at her curiously, and she took a deep breath, trying to keep her courage for one more thing.

“Thank you, Garreth,” she whispered. “F-for everything.”

He smiled at her again, and she thought warmth came over her once more like a wave beating against the shore. “Of course, Imelda,” he replied. “That’s what friends are for.”

Imelda looked down, feeling rather flustered from him saying such a thing so openly and genuinely. She realized she was still holding his handkerchief. She held it out to him, but he raised his hand in refusal.

“Keep it, just in case,” he said. “Take care.”

“You too,” she replied.

He nodded to her and then left the closet, closing the door behind him. She took a deep breath, needing a moment to collect herself. She stowed away the handkerchief, already thinking of how to clean it so she can properly return it. As she put it in her pocket, she felt the Shrivelfigs in there. She missed the chance to give Garreth some of the fruit as well… She would just do it when she returned the handkerchief to him.

After a few minutes, she was ready to get out there. Imelda made sure her hair was alright, then she smoothed down her uniform. She grabbed her broom and put the strap on. She hesitated before taking out her wand, arming herself this time just in case.

She walked out of the closet and with as much dignity as she could, she headed for the Slytherin entrance. She muttered, “Smaragdus anguis.”

The snake lifted up and made its usual arch, revealing the entrance. She walked through the tunnel, and she heard a strange commotion.

She frowned and walked further in. She saw Ominis leaning against the wall with his arms crossed next to the tall radius windows. She looked at the lake through the windows, thinking how it was a good thing Garreth wasn’t a Slytherin. He would hate this entire location, actually.

She heard a yelp, and she saw Hamish rolled to a stop by her feet. His robes were full of soot and singed marks, and there were even a few slashes. Her eyebrows furrowed as she even saw a bruise across his nose. He looked up and his eyes were full of terror.

“Imelda!” He called out, sounding both relieved and desperate. “I-I’m so sorry! I promise to never do what I did again!”

Imelda was so confused by what was going on, until she saw someone strut over to regroup with them. Sebastian stared hard at Hamish, ignoring the spectators of their Housemates around them. He pointed his wand at Hamish. “Really mean it, Hamish,” he warned.

“I do mean it,” he urgently said. “I mean it!”

“Ominis?” Sebastian asked as if he needed a second opinion.

“I personally don’t think he’s begging enough,” Ominis said in a bored tone as he picked his nails.

Imelda looked between the two of them and then down at Hamish. She personally knew Sebastian’s aptitude with duelling. Not to mention his favorite spell… So that was why Hamish’s robes looked darker than black in a way.

“Alright, that’s enough, Sebastian,” she told him.

Sebastian looked up at her as if to make sure, and then he spun his wand in his hand and stepped back. Hamish lowered his head, nearly collapsing from relief. Sebastian walked around him to stand close to Ominis and Imelda. He pointed his wand at the crowd, and a few backed away.

“If anyone messes with the Ice Queen, you mess with us,” he boldly said. “Understand?”

Imelda for once was shocked by the use of her title. For once, it wasn’t said in mockery. There were actually some murmurs of agreement from the crowd.

“Alright, show’s over,” Ominis called out. “Go on about your lives.”

The crowd started to disperse, muttering as they were no longer given entertainment. Hamish bolted away from them the second he knew he was safe from Sebastian’s fury.

Imelda rounded on Sebastian. “What was that all about?” She demanded with her hands on her hips. If Sebastian made Hamish regret and even apologize for what he did, he had to have known something. Ominis knew it too, and possibly all these people!

“Garreth told us” —Her heart started to sink at his betrayal. She was supposed to trust him!—“that Hamish did something to you that left you in great distress. We found him near the entrance, actually, and he intercepted us on the way in.”

Imelda’s shoulders dropped as she realized Garreth, in fact, kept her secret safe. “Oh,” she simply said.

“He wouldn’t go into details,” Ominis added, leaving the wall to stand closer to Sebastian and Imelda. He frowned. “But I do not like cowards doing heinous things to have power over someone,” he darkly said.

Imelda looked between them, surprised by their attitudes. “You two…did that…because of what he did to me?”

“She sounds so confused,” Ominis said with jest and a half-smile.

Sebastian chuckled and shrugged at her. “You’re one of us now. We look out for each other.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Ominis gestured to her. “Though, that concept might still be lost on you.” He playfully added.

Imelda rolled her eyes as she blushed at their words. “Shut it,” she muttered, even though she was touched by the fact they acknowledged her as a friend…

“I believe you meant to say ‘thank you’. And, you’re welcome,” Sebastian brightly replied with a grin.

Imelda rolled her eyes again. Then she remembered what she wanted to do, and she reached into her pocket, producing a Shrivelfig. She helped it out to Sebastian, who stared at it in disbelief. “Here,” she said. “In case…you wanted to try it for Anne again.”

Sebastian lifted his gaze to her, blinking from shock. “I…wasn’t expecting this,” he slowly said as he accepted the fruit.

“And I wasn’t expecting you two to defend my honor,” she dryly said, fighting a smile as Ominis and Sebastian chuckled.

He smiled at her. “Thank you, Imelda.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s what friends are for.”

Chapter Text

The three Keepers stared at her, completely flabbergasted.

“You…wish to take away someone’s pain?” Rackham asked.

Imelda had her arms crossed as she regarded the three portraits with a frown. “It isn’t emotional pain, but just physical pain. Surely that wouldn’t be as bad as what Isidora did?”

Rookwood shook his head. “The memories you have seen so far were supposed to give you a warning, not encouragement.”

Imelda scowled, feeling more irritation rise in her. “It’s not the same! A girl has been cursed to be in agony for the past year, and you’re dismissing the possibility of helping me help her because you think I’m going to be like Isidora?” She loudly demanded, her voice echoing in the Map Chamber.

She despised the patronizing looks they were giving her. She didn’t think it was that big of a deal! What was wrong with looking into taking away physical pain? She remembered Isidora took away her father’s pain, and…he looked grateful, didn’t he? Surely physical pain would merit better solutions?

“I believe that you should understand why we’re worried about you going down the same path as Isidora,” Niamh said. She had a thoughtful expression with her forehead creased with mild worry. “You must continue to see our memories so you can know the entire story.”

Imelda sighed loudly. She was tired of being strung along to only be given bits and pieces. The only good thing about this whole goblin and Ashwinder problem was that it’s finally giving the Keepers a good kick in the rear to quicken their pace of sharing.

“Fine,” she grumbled. She was still upset for Anne and Sebastian that she couldn’t get any possible answers for them for the time being, but she hoped she still had time before things got worse for Anne. “I’m working on how to get into the Headmaster’s Office, but it won’t be for another few weeks until I can.”

Niamh nodded. “I’m certain you will prevail when the time comes. Until then.”

Imelda waved in a partly peeved manner and turned to leave. She walked up the stairs to the grand doors when she remembered something.

“Oh, by the way,” she began, looking back at the three portraits, “I confided in a couple of my friends about all of this.” She gestured to the entire Map Chamber, and she felt pleased at seeing their shocked expressions. “Oh, don’t give me that. You have your little club of secrets. I can have my own too. It’s not like you can stop me from trusting in people.”

She heard Rackham about to probably admonish her, and she simply opened the door before slipping out. She smirked to herself, satisfied with the payback for them withholding their “help” from her.

~~~

When Sebastian had come back from a quick visit with his sister, Imelda felt bad to add onto his disappointment in the Shrivelfig not working as a possible cure. She had ushered them into the Undercroft and told them about her own disappointment.

Ominis merely frowned, but Sebastian looked outraged. He had his hands closed into tight fists as he glared at Imelda, but she knew his anger was not directed at her.

“They’re just choosing to not tell you anything?” He incredulously asked.

“Not until I do more of their ridiculous trials,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

Sebastian huffed. “Well, what do you have to do? How can we get you to this next trial?”

Imelda frowned. “I told you, Garreth is helping me with it.” She adjusted the strap of her school bag. She still had those Shrivelfigs, and she was intent on getting rid of them. Well, “giving them to Garreth” sounded better than “getting rid of them”.

Ominis lifted an eyebrow at that. “How could potion brewing help you?”

She rubbed her eyes, not even sure how to explain it to them. Then she perked up with an idea. “Wait, Ominis, where do you have tea with Black?”

Ominis looked utterly confused. “In a room off to the side of the Great Hall. Why?”

Imelda cursed under her breath. “I was hoping it was the Headmaster’s Office.”

Sebastian instantly picked up on what she meant. “You need to access his office for your next trial?”

“Unfortunately,” Imelda darkly muttered. She threw her hands up in annoyance. “Because one of these Keepers was a Headmistress, apparently, so she thought it was a good idea to have her trial be in that office. A bit narcissistic, if you ask me.”

“Not to mention that if anyone knew she was affiliated with some massive secret, wouldn’t that be one of the first places one would check?” Ominis curiously asked.

“Thank you,” Imelda intensely said. Finally someone else understood how convoluted and absurd these Keepers were. She sighed. “I need to get in there, but it seems no one but Black and Scrope know the password.”

Sebastian and Ominis were silent for a moment before they connected the dots. Sebastian got there first and said, “You and Garreth are brewing Polyjuice, aren’t you?”

Imelda blushed at being figured out so quickly, but she wasn’t that upset since she trusted them with everything else already. She nodded. “I will need Black’s hair, and figure out how to keep him away in enough time for me to get the password out of Scrope just so I can get into the bloody office.”

Ominis and Sebastian owlishly blinked at her. “Do you…know how complicated that sounds?” The latter carefully asked.

Imelda glared at them, feeling her face get warmer from embarrassment. “Yes, I’m aware!” She defensively snapped and they flinched. “But unless you two can figure out a way to get that bloody password out of Black without any of us getting into trouble, I’m all ears!”

“What if someone catches on that you and Garreth are brewing this?” Ominis pointed out. “Polyjuice isn’t a common potion to brew.”

“We know,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. She had worried about Scribner suspecting something since they got that book, but Professor Fig would cover for her if need be. “I know it’s a risk, but the hope is that no one would notice.”

Sebastian suddenly snorted, and he sheepishly chuckled when he saw Imelda lift her eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry. I just realized…you would be impersonating a man.”

Imelda didn’t know what he was getting at, and she saw Ominis cover his mouth as if to cover a smile or muffle a laugh. She flushed as she considered what Sebastian could mean. “Oh, shut it,” she scolded. “I’d quickly get that password before I’d have to worry about anything else.”

“Still, have you been observing his behavior? The way he acts and talks?” Sebastian asked, dropping his amusement.

Imelda opened and closed her mouth. Well, now she felt like an idiot that she didn’t consider such a thing first.

“I’m guessing from your silence, that’s a ‘no’,” Ominis remarked.

Imelda felt her face burn so much more. “Okay, no, I didn’t think of that,” she brusquely replied. She was severely tempted to leave now to have some dignity left.

“Hey, we can help you,” Sebastian gently reminded her. He gave her a small smile. “You tried to look into a possible solution for Anne, and I appreciate that. Now, let me return the favor so you can get another trial done.”

Ominis merely shrugged. “I can at least tell you how Black talks. I’ve been around him enough to know his mannerisms.”

“And when he struts around like a peacock around the school, I’m sure his gait is easy to pick up,” Sebastian added.

At least Imelda felt a little better now that she had their help. Her brief worry of messing up was assuaged. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she eventually said.

“How far along are you in the process? Doesn’t it take a month?” Sebastian asked.

Imelda shrugged. “I think we still have two weeks to go. I’ll have to ask Garreth.”

“Where is he even brewing it?” Ominis inquired with a tilt of his head.

“I don’t know,” Imelda admitted.

“Huh, I thought he would tell you, considering you two have been getting close,” Sebastian mused.

Imelda blushed as she remembered just yesterday when she had been curled up into Garreth as he held her close to comfort her. It should have been stifling and hot in that broom closet, but it wasn’t. At least, not in that moment between them. She could clearly remember the faint but welcoming scent of mint too.

She still had the handkerchief he gave her clean, folded, and kept in the inner pocket of her robes. She knew he said she could keep it, but she should probably return it…

“What’s this?” Imelda was taken out of her thinking, and she saw Sebastian look at her with excitement. Excitement to tease, if she knew him, and she did. “Did you two get…closer?”

Imelda glared at him. “No.”

“Are you lying?” Ominis asked.

“Oh, she definitely is,” Sebastian told him. “She’s blushing so much.”

She narrowed her eyes at the two nitwits that had similar teasing and amused looks on their faces. “Do you like getting on my nerves?” She dryly asked.

Sebastian snickered and habitually reached up to gingerly hold his ear. “Your peeved expression is both intimidating and amusing.”

“As someone that grew up stiff, having us around helps you keep from being too rigid,” Ominis reasoned.

Imelda scoffed and crossed her arms. She supposed it had to mean something if Sebastian and Ominis were both protective of her and lighthearted with her. Like how they were with each other and with Anne.

“I suppose you have a point,” she muttered.

“Would you rather we teased you about Isaac?” Sebastian jokingly offered. Ominis coughed into his fist to cover his laugh.

Imelda’s stomach flipped and she sighed. “No, but maybe you don’t have to tease me about something like my love life.” She then added in a surprisingly despondent tone, “Or lack thereof.”

She wondered if maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say as they dropped their amused looks with ones of…sympathy. She cleared her throat and forced away any indignation that started to form.

“Anyway, that’s what I have to do for my next trial,” she merely said. She looked at Ominis. “I don’t suppose…you could procure Black’s hair?”

Ominis snorted. “I might have already. I told you: he sheds like a bloody cat.”

“How? Is he secretly going bald?” Sebastian playfully asked, and Imelda cracked a smile at the thought.

“He could be a werewolf shedding his summer coat for all I know,” Ominis replied with his own amusement. He turned to Imelda. “I have my robes from yesterday stuffed into my trunk. Sebastian and I can check it out.”

“And you’re certain it’s not cat hair?” Imelda pressed. She shivered from the memory of that horrid picture in the book. She didn’t want to mess up and become some freakish cat hybrid.

“He’s allergic,” Ominis easily answered. “Last year, I once napped outside where some of the cats liked to lounge. They were curled up against me, but I didn’t care and I went right to where we met for tea time afterward. He kept sneezing up a storm, making me keep from even trying a sip of my tea.”

Sebastian chortled at the mental image, and Imelda started to chuckle as well. The idea of the pompous man constantly sneezing and not keeping his usual stiff posture cheered her up far more than she expected.

“Alright, so definitely not cat hair,” Sebastian said with a grin. “We can check it out later today.” His eyebrows shot up as he remembered something. “Oh, I was going to tell you yesterday, but then the whole…” he vaguely waved “Bulstrode thing. But!” He gestured to the triptych with the sole painting of a landscape. “I might have an idea where that is! I’ll have to check some things, but once I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

Imelda looked at the triptych. Considering her recent conversation with the Keepers, looking further into something Isidora left behind might get her answers sooner than them. She wouldn’t have to wait for approval or permission. Not to mention, such answers would help Sebastian too.

“Alright and…thank you,” she told him.

Sebastian smiled more, pleased with himself. “I’ve discovered something else in my last endeavor into the Restricted Section.” Ominis knew where this was going, and he shook his head. “I found something known as the Scriptorium. It’s apparently made by Salazar Slytherin, and it’s somewhere here in Hogwarts! Perhaps that also has some magic for us to look into for Anne’s cure!”

Imelda at this point didn’t mind the idea, but her gut was telling her something wasn’t right. If she had Ominis’s reaction to go by.

“Well, as long as it doesn’t get us detention,” Imelda said. “I’m trying to keep a perfect record.”

“Says the girl that’s trying to impersonate the Headmaster so she can break into his office,” Sebastian remarked with a chuckle.

“The point would be that I’d make sure no one else knew about this, so my record would still be perfect,” she firmly said.

“You have a good point. You’re only in trouble if you get caught.” Sebastian looked at her as if he were impressed or even…proud.

Ominis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t think it was possible that Imelda might be more troublemaking than me.”

“Please, you were in more trouble than I was a few years ago,” Imelda pointed out. She turned to leave the Undercroft, and Sebastian and Ominis followed her.

“You were also doing— Ah, you weren’t caught so you technically weren’t in trouble.”

“That’s right,” she said with a smirk. “Not to mention that I was doing most of the trials and other things with Professor Fig.”

The Undercroft door opened, and the three slipped out. Sebastian went ahead to make sure no one was lurking about. Once he waved them over, Imelda and Ominis followed him out and down the stairs of the place.

Since they were back in the public areas of the school, all of their talk about trials ceased. Imelda felt grateful that Sebastian and Ominis were helping out. She had worried about how she was going to procure Black’s hair for the Polyjuice, and she hadn’t even considered trying to mimic him to the best of her abilities. Now, those problems were solved, and she felt more confident in the plan.

They were going through the Grand Staircase Tower, and Imelda spotted someone heading toward the Faculty Tower from the stairs. She quickly changed direction and went after the person, not waiting for Ominis and Sebastian. They were both perplexed on what just happened, but they followed after her anyway.

“Garreth!” She called out.

He turned to her with a curious expression and he smiled when she got closer. “Hey,” he greeted. He noticed Ominis and Sebastian approaching them. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Imelda felt a strange sense of deja vu as she knew he said that before in the Quad Courtyard. It felt like a century ago when they had that conversation, and he held her ears to keep her warm.

…Why was she focused on that detail? She forced away her confusing thoughts and opened her school bag. “I have something to give you.”

“If it’s about my handkerchief, I told you that you could keep it,” Garreth protested.

“No, it’s not about that. Something else,” she dismissed.

Behind Imelda, Sebastian and Ominis had the same expression of bewilderment. Neither Imelda nor Garreth noticed the bystanders’ reactions.

“Look, you don’t have to give me anything because of what happened,” Garreth said with a shrug. “I didn’t do what I did to expect some reward.”

“I know that,” she replied. She was still honestly surprised he was that altruistic, but she didn’t want to doubt his intentions. She didn’t want to admit how scared she was that she ruined another friendship… “This was something I meant to give to you before, well, what happened.”

That piqued his interest, and he stayed quiet as Imelda reached into her school bag and took out the five Shrivelfigs. Garreth instantly gasped and looked like a kid on Christmas with his eyes shining with excitement. For some reason, Imelda had to fight a smile at the…adorable sight?

“I needed to harvest mine, and since I only needed one, I figured you could probably use the rest,” she reasoned as she held them out to him.

“Wow, thank you!” He enthusiastically said. He was about to grab them, but he stopped and met her eyes. “Are you sure?”

Imelda arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re the potion brewer between us, I think you’re more likely to put these to use better than me.” She was practically shoving them into his larger hands. “In other words, take them.”

Garreth chuckled as he complied and accepted the Shrivelfigs. He stowed them away into his own bag, and he looked back at Imelda. He still had the big, boyish grin on his freckled face, and Imelda thought she saw a glimmer in his eyes. That was probably just a trick in the light or something—

He suddenly stepped forward and pulled her to him, giving her a big hug. Imelda’s eyes doubled in size as she was overwhelmed by his warmth and the heat rising in her face. Her heart palpitated as she was completely stiff from this unexpected turn of events.

“Thank you,” he quietly said close to her ear, and that made herself feel even hotter all over.

“Er, you’re welcome,” she managed to say despite her mind being severely blank.

Garreth let go of her soon after, grinning at her. “I’m very physically affectionate, in case that wasn’t obvious,” he lightly said.

“I got the idea now,” she muttered as she smoothed down her robes, still hot in the face.

“This truly does mean a lot to me.” His grin turned more sincere, and she felt a strange sense of pride for making him this happy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, far more gracefully this time. She was starting to cool back down too, so her face was only rosy instead of burgundy.

He patted his bag that was now full of Shrivelfigs. “I already have some ideas on what to do with these. I can’t wait to get started. Oh!” He leaned forward, and Imelda’s blush resurfaced. “By the way, our project is going smoothly. Just a couple more weeks,” he added as a low whisper near her ear.

Imelda swallowed and nodded to convey she understood. Garreth leaned back and gave her a short nod with a smile. “I’ll see you in class,” he bade. He finally acknowledged Sebastian and Ominis were there, and he waved to them. “See you two then as well!”

Ominis silently waved as Sebastian said, “See you.”

Garreth turned and kept walking toward the Faculty Tower, presumably going to where the Gryffindor Tower was.

Imelda stood there, watching his retreating form as her mind caught up to what just happened. Sebastian and Ominis slowly turned to her, wearing curious and inquisitive expressions on their faces.

She frowned, only blushing a little this time. “Not. A word,” she gritted out.

They both raised their hands to show they’re harmless. Imelda huffed and started heading back to the Grand Staircase Tower. The two boys slowly followed her lead.

“Is she as flustered as she sounds?” Ominis quietly asked. “I’d say so, yes,” Sebastian answered in a mutter.

Imelda was still lost in her mind and she didn’t pick up what they said. She felt like she could still feel Garreth’s arms around her, with all the warmth he provided from them and his bright smile. She could have even sworn that the same mint smell lingered on her robes, a faint—and maybe even comforting—scent. The same one that was on the handkerchief…

~~~

After Ominis and Sebastian went to their dorm and came back with a phial full of black hair. Sebastian confirmed that it was indeed human hair, and it had to be Black’s; no one else in their dorms had the same shade of hair. Seriously, how did Black shed so much? Was he actually balding? Imelda thanked them and carefully stashed the phial away in a corner of her school trunk, intent on giving it to Garreth for safekeeping with the potion later.

That night, Imelda stayed up later than usual, and since she didn’t want to disturb her dormmates, she went into the common room. She sat on the bench that was along the tall windows of the lake. She leans back against the glass, wrapping an arm around her folded knees as her other hand holds the orange handkerchief. She thumbed the soft linen fabric, a habit she picked up from the short time she had acquired it.

She knew she should have tried returning the handkerchief like she originally planned, but when the time came…she couldn’t do it. Maybe it was because it reminded her of the time Garreth was there for her like a true friend. Something she had never had the privilege of experiencing ever before. Not only that, but… She lifted the handkerchief and lightly sniffed. The mint was still there, as if it were magically preserved into the cloth. She always liked mint, as mint chocolate cake is her favorite dessert, but she was now liking how comforting the scent was to her too.

She heard bare feet padding from the boys’ dorm side. She looked up and inhaled sharply at seeing Isaac. She hurriedly stuffed the handkerchief underneath herself and let go of her knees to sit on the bench normally.

“Hey, you can’t sleep?” Isaac asked once he was closer and noticed her. He was wearing the Quidditch pants that were partly covered from his white, flowing night shirt.

Imelda blushed hard as her heart flipped at seeing him dressed for the night. She watched him idly scratch the back of his head, ruffling his thick black hair even more.

Remain calm, she internally reminded herself. She took a deep breath and tried to not be self conscious of her own attire. She was only wearing a simple, white nightgown like all the other girls here, what was there to worry about? She subconsciously smoothed down her hair that was down and loose.

“I’m just not tired just yet,” she explained. Her stomach was still full of Snitches fluttering around, and she hoped she wouldn’t make a fool of herself in front of Isaac. She better not vomit right at his feet.

“I hope it’s not because of Bulstrode,” Isaac gravely said. “I heard what he did. Or, well, what Sallow did to him after he picked on you.” His green eyes flashed with pride for Sebastian. “I’m glad you have him and Gaunt to look after you.”

Imelda lightly scoffed. “I didn’t expect them to, they just…did,” she mumbled. She fiddled with her hands and rested them on her lap. She looked up to her left at the windows that only showed tall kelp swaying from the water. “But no. I just wanted some alone time.”

“Oh. I can leave you—”

“No!” She sighed at her far-too-quick response. “I’m sorry,” she calmly said. “I don’t mind your company, truly.”

Isaac blinked before smiling at her, making her heart skip a beat. “Well, knowing how small your circle of friends is, I’m honored! Thank you, Imelda.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Imelda wondered why he didn’t sit down. “Er…why are you still awake?”

Isaac shrugged and looked out at the lake. “I couldn’t sleep. I had a little study session with my friends for NEWT practice.” He chuckled. “We had some tea while we worked, and it’s now catching up to me.”

He finally moved to sit close to her on the bench, sighing deeply. “You know, I hope you’re not hard on yourself about that time trial,” he said, turning to her with a mildly concerned look in his forest green eyes.

Imelda shook her head even though she still felt a tiny pang of bitter shame. Overall, considering everything else going on, not doing as well as she normally would didn’t bother her too much. “I’m fine, but I am intent on being better at the next one.”

Isaac stared at her for a moment before quietly laughing. “You seem different, Imelda,” he mused.

Her stomach churned nervously. “Is that…bad?” She asked.

“Of course not.” Isaac reached up and ruffled her hair with a grin. Her face warmed even more from the affection. “I’m happy that you’re growing more into your own person. And now you have more friends. That’s wonderful.” Imelda felt pleased that he was happy for her, but she wasn’t sure how to take it. Did he mean he was happy she was more mature? More calm? More rational? All three? None of the above? Did he…like that about her that she was different?

Isaac then yawned into his hand. “I guess the tea is finally out of my system,” he mumbled. He gave Imelda another smile before getting up. “Have a good night, Imelda.”

“You too,” she mumbled.

She watched Isaac go back to the boys’ dorm side, and once he was out of sight, Imelda pulled out the handkerchief from under her leg. A tiny worry came to her, and she sniffed it again. The mint smell remained, but it was now slightly mixed with her rose perfume smell that came from her nightgown. It…didn’t smell horrible together, at least.

Imelda carefully held the handkerchief with both of her hands, staring at the sunset orange square. She frowned as she realized something: all this time being alone and close to Isaac, she got warm.

But she wasn’t even close to how warm she was when she was with Garreth…

Chapter Text

A week had gone by, and Imelda kept her strange observation to herself. Why did it matter how “warm” she felt depending on who she was with? She tried to not put merit into it. Garreth literally hugged her, that was why she was warmer. Isaac didn’t hug her, although the idea made her blush to herself, but that was why there was a difference.

…right?

Imelda wasn’t sure she wanted to know if she was wrong. What good would it do to know? It could make things weird between her and Garreth, and her insides felt like they were tied into a knot at the possibility. After being so frighteningly vulnerable with him, and after he affirmed that they were in fact friends, she didn’t want to lose that. Maybe she was selfish, but she was determined to make her new friendships work.

So, she continued on through school like usual. She did her morning flying practice, attended classes, and even worked with Sebastian and Ominis on homework. Part of that homework was the three of them meeting in the Undercroft and going through a plan for when the Polyjuice was done. Ominis coached her through the pompous speaking Black did, and Sebastian would come up with scenarios or even questions to test Imelda on if she could respond like Black would.

Then Sebastian would help her with more duelling, which also took place in the Undercroft. She at least held her ground better than last time, but she still had to improve. Her perfectionist side loathed how much she was falling short of her high expectations, but she would have to make do. He would jokingly offer that she could get more practice at Crossed Wands, but she was still adamant against unsanctioned clubs. She didn’t care if it was hypocritical; she was going to break rules only when it was necessary, like having to get to this ridiculous Keeper trial.

Saturday afternoon, Imelda was busy polishing her broomstick. She was sitting outside on the fountain in the Hogwarts Grounds, enjoying the sunlight and crisp, autumn air. She felt herself relax with her mind clearing up as she kept working on her broom. These times still managed to make her forget about all that she was forced into. For just a moment, she could think that all she needed to do was focus on her Quidditch career.

A soft hoot made her frown. She looked to her right to see a barn owl of some kind, but the darker brown in the feathers seemed foreign.

“What?” She asked with an impatient tone.

The owl simply stuck its leg out, and Imelda saw a note tied to it. Her eyebrows furrowed. It wasn’t her family’s owl, nor her grandfather’s. Who else would write to her?

She carefully set down the broom next to her homemade polish. Then she reached down to untie the note from the owl’s leg.

“I don’t have treats,” she muttered.

The owl hooted almost like it huffed in annoyance. Imelda squinted at it, and it gave an affronted look in return. Then it flapped its wings and flew in the direction of the owlery.

She unfolded the note, still confused who would write to her. Isaac recently wrote to her, so it wasn’t him. Sebastian and Ominis couldn’t possibly write to her, they could just find her. Garreth… Why would he write to her? Maybe it was Anne, but Imelda wasn’t sure they were close enough for Anne to reach out.

Imelda’s confusion ceased when she saw who signed at the end of the note: Onai. She remembered her deal with Onai, and she rubbed her forehead as she read about Onai wanting to meet at the Falbarton Castle. She knew Onai was probably going to eventually find a lead for getting evidence. She just didn’t think Onai would have found it so soon. Then again, Gryffindors didn’t waste time when they put their mind to something.

She sighed and headed back into the castle, hoping this excursion wouldn’t be more than gathering information…

~~~

Per Onai’s request, Imelda came to the Falbarton Castle at dusk. Imelda got there by riding her broom, and she internally debated on whether it was better to fly low or high. In the end, she chose to go high. The top of her head brushed against clouds and droplets stuck to her hair.

It took some map reading beforehand, but Imelda soon found the keep and carefully landed near local foliage for cover.

Imelda’s heart thudded in her ears as she realized how dangerous this was going to be. She was participating with a peer of hers to look into Victor Rookwood’s right hand man, who undoubtedly was at least involved in poaching.

Imelda blinked and then facepalmed in anger at herself. She should have talked to Poppy; she was already looking into poachers and could have had something useful for this. She was going to make sure to do that next time if there was even a next time.

“Psst.”

Imelda jolted and turned to see Onai crouched by a tree. Onai waved her over, and Imelda checked the castle for any guard before staying low and striding to her. Onai had changed out of her school uniform like Imelda did. Imelda was wearing a simple outfit of black robes over a dark gray jumper that covered her neck and arms, along with black trousers and the shoes she wears for Quidditch and flying. Onai, on the other hand, was also wearing black robes but over an ink black jumper and equally dark trousers.

“I’m glad you received my letter,” Onai quietly said with a faint smile. “I am relieved you made it here safely too.”

Imelda eyed Onai and noticed she didn’t have a broom, nor was there any ash on her robes. How did she get here? Imelda forced that thought away and put her broom’s strap diagonally across her back.

“Well, I figured you were going to do this with or without me,” Imelda muttered. She looked up at the foreboding castle, feeling her stomach churn with dread. She had only gone into abandoned towers for Keepers’ Trials. She had no idea what they were going to face there, and she was certainly no Gryffindor…

“It is nice to have help all the same.”

Imelda couldn’t deny that. She was used to mainly helping herself with those blasted trials in the past. Now…she had others helping her, and the weight on her shoulders wasn’t as unbearable as it used to be. She looked back at Onai.

“So, we’re here at the castle, and you didn’t say much about what you found,” she prompted.

“As promised, I did some investigating to find out what Harlow was up to. I followed him into Hog’s Head.”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed. Hog’s Head wasn’t as easy for a Hogwarts student to blend into like the Three Broomsticks. How did Onai pull that off?

Onai continued: “I noticed him reading a letter. All I could see was that it was signed by and bore the seal of Victor Rookwood.” Imelda thought back to when she went to Rookwood’s Castle for her second trial. She roughly remembered a red crest with a golden “R” showing every now and then in there, but she was more focused on following wisps of ancient magic to get to the trial.

“One other thing,” Onai added. She regarded Imelda with wariness and concern. “Harlow mentioned you to his colleagues. Not your name, but he vividly described you.” Imelda clenched her jaw, feeling more dread crawl up from her stomach. She should have known Harlow (and probably Rookwood too) would remember how she looked at Hogsmeade. Onai watched her carefully. “They specifically want you for something, don’t they?”

Imelda hesitated. She didn’t know if she could tell Onai everything like she did with Sebastian and Ominis. She wasn’t relatively close with Onai, aside from this one situation. Even so, she was still a terrible liar.

She sighed and tightened her hold on the strap of her broom. “They do,” she muttered. She checked on the keep again, not liking how quiet it had been. “I can’t go into details, but—”

“I shall not push,” Onai gently interjected with a raised hand. “But I worry what would happen if we’re caught. Or more specifically, if you are caught.”

“Frankly, you should be more worried about your own safety,” Imelda said with a frown. “They want me alive, but you…” Her stomach churned at the thought of one of her peers being in mortal danger because of her. “They’d see you as a ‘spare’ and kill you.”

“That’s if they even catch us,” Onai boldly said. “And they won’t.”

Imelda knew Gryffindor bravado when she heard it, and she gave Onai an unamused look. “I’m serious, Onai. This is not like Crossed Wands.”

“I’m aware of the risks,” she stubbornly replied.

“I don’t think you are.”

“We’re already here, and I’m not leaving without getting that evidence. That letter is tangible proof Officer Singer needs.” Onai looked up at the castle this time. “Rookwood and Harlow are a threat to all of us, and we can help take them down. For good.”

“By only getting evidence,” Imelda insisted in a hushed tone. She gestured to the looming structure. “Not storming a bloody castle that is most likely full of poachers!”

“They won’t find us, we’ll be careful.” Onai stayed low as she headed toward the bridge to the castle. “Come on.”

Imelda stood there for a couple seconds, her mouth open to yell at Onai to come back here so she could scold her. But she knew she shouldn’t as that would alert people of their presence. She growled under her breath and crouched as she followed after Onai. At the very least, she was not going to let Onai endanger herself by herself.

“Bloody Gryffindors and their reckless daring sides,” she angrily muttered. She wanted to pinch Onai’s ear and tell her off, but they were losing their advantage of being undetected.

They casted the Disillusionment Charms on themselves and neared the portcullis of the castle. The eerie silence bothered Imelda. It was too quiet, and she didn’t like it one bit. Something had to be going on.

She flinched at feeling Onai nudge her. “Maybe we can find another way in,” Onai whispered.

Imelda noticed a broken part of the bridge that led down a grassy slope to a valley below the bridge.

Imelda carefully trod down there, and she heard Onai follow her. She looked up at the stone structure, and she frowned at not even seeing watchmen wandering on top of the curtain walls. Maybe there was some sort of evil convention further inside the castle. She checked to make sure with a cast of Revelio. Sure enough, she couldn’t sense anyone nearby.

She was about to slip the strap of her broom off. “I don’t know how you’ll get in, but I can fly right over this wall.”

“And if there are no-flying wards?” Onai asked.

Imelda stiffened and sighed. That was possible, and she loathed it. “Fine,” she grumbled. “If it turns out there aren’t any wards, I’ll be ticked.”

Onai stifled a laugh and nudged her again. “Come on, I think I see a lower wall we can use to climb higher.”

Imelda grimaced. She wasn’t completely helpless in physical strength, but the only upper body strength she had was purely for Quidditch and flying. None of the trials beforehand needed her to pull herself up.

Even so, she followed Onai’s lead, and they went to a low wall next to wrecked crates and wagons. Onai went up first, and Imelda grabbed the edge of the wall and gritted her teeth as she managed to pull herself up. She panted after getting on the ledge, and her arms shook from using her strength. Merlin, she should probably fix that. She couldn’t afford to be this weak, not with this much danger in her life.

She inwardly groaned at seeing they had to do it again to get onto the curtain wall. The same process happened, but Imelda managed to help herself by running a little up the wall and using the momentum to pull herself to get on top. Onai was there and gently helped her up.

Imelda breathed hard and rolled her shoulders, trying to make her arms less sore from the strenuous work. “This letter better be worth the trouble.”

“I’m sure it will be, once Harlow is behind bars in Azkaban,” Onai confidently said.

They inched closer to the tower that was just up ahead, and Imelda saw the ledge to grab was far higher. Imelda immediately thought there was no way they could get up there by themselves, and they were now inside the property of the castle…

“Screw it,” Imelda muttered, taking the strap off her shoulder. “We’re going to get up there on my broom.”

Onai instantly dropped her Disillusionment, and Imelda jolted. Onai gave her a slightly amused look before Imelda said anything.

“A floating broom would look pretty inconspicuous, even if we blended into the shadows.”

Imelda thought it over. She remembered in Rookwood’s trial where some of the statues would be invisible except for their weapons, which floated in the air. It made sense, but they would still stand out as riding on her broom.

It will be for just a moment, she internally reasoned. She waved her wand and dropped her own Disillusionment. Then she mounted her broom, sitting further up then normal. “Come on, get on,” she quietly instructed.

Onai walked over and Imelda felt the broom shift as the Gryffindor sat behind her. Imelda never rode her Night Dancer with another person, but she merely readjusted her grip on the wood as Onai held onto her shoulders. Imelda kicked off and the broom wavered slightly in the air to get used to the additional weight, but Imelda’s determined will kept it stabilized.

They easily floated up to the opening, and Imelda quickly landed. Onai jumped off, and Imelda dismounted. Imelda shouldered her broom again and followed Onai as they crept further into the tower. They passed the device that would slide up the portcullis, and Onai got to the locked door across the room.

“Alohomora,” she whispered, and Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed as she didn’t see Onai use her wand. Onai could wandlessly cast magic? Since when?

Imelda merely shook her head in disbelief as the lock clattered onto the floor, and they went through the now-open door. Imelda felt her nerves rattle her core. Every part of her was frightened at the idea of being in peril. Imelda knew she had her ancient magic, but she barely kept herself alive with it. She narrowly saved Sebastian, and she swallowed thickly at the idea of having to kill even more to survive. She would probably still do it to save her own skin, but…would she be able to do the same for Onai? What if a split second was enough for her to fail to cover Onai’s back? Imelda’s mind whirled at the possibility of such a thing, and what would transpire at Hogwarts. Onai’s mother would scorn her, no doubt about that. The Gryffindors would probably blame her for their friend’s unfortunate end.

…She felt worse at the mental image of Garreth looking at her with such disappointment and contempt. She wouldn’t blame him, but it was like any warmth was extracted from her…as if Isidora took away her warmth instead of pain.

As they kept walking while crouched toward the main keep, Imelda slipped her hand into her robe’s inner pocket and took out the orange handkerchief. She habitually thumbed the fabric and felt her nerves calm down with warmth slowly seeping back into her. She let out a long breath, the last of her worries being assuaged. She was not going to let anything like her fears happen. She would make sure of it.

She felt someone’s eyes on her, and she looked to her right. Onai stared at the handkerchief curiously before lifting her gaze to meet Imelda’s.

“That’s Garreth’s, isn’t it?” She quietly asked.

Imelda blushed at the perfectly innocent question and just nodded while stashing it away again. “He gave it to me,” she replied.

“I certainly hope so, otherwise that would raise more questions,” Onai lightly said with a faint, amused smile.

Imelda frowned and looked away as they took a moment to hide behind a cluster of crates on the walkway. They stayed down, going on a knee and peering past the pile at the main gate doors. How were they going to get in?

“Reyes,” Onai whispered.

“What?” Imelda asked, a bit annoyed that Onai was pulling her attention away from the doors that were their latest obstacle.

Onai gave her a solemn expression, but Imelda saw the same protective glint in her hickory brown eyes that she had seen in Sebastian’s eyes for his sister. “Garreth’s a good young man. Don’t break his heart.”

Imelda gave her the most confused and weirded out expression possible. “What are you talking about?” She asked, completely forgetting their goal at the moment. Where on earth did Onai get such an idea?

“Well, your reputation precedes you,” Onai pointed out with a shrug.

“Right, Ice Queen,” Imelda mumbled before looking back at the doors.

“I just know that he wouldn’t—”

Whatever Onai was about to say—not that Imelda cared to know the end of the sentence—was interrupted by the castle’s massive doors suddenly bursting open. There were three men and…a purely white Hippogriff. The Hippogriff had its wings flared and screeched as the three men sent Basic Casts at it. Imelda instantly recognized the man in the center as Theophilus Harlow with his vest and green bowler hat. But, more importantly, her heart actually plunged when the Hippogriff was forced to lay down after being pelted by Basic Casts. She recognized—

“Highwing?” Imelda quietly said out loud. She remembered Poppy earlier voicing her worries about Highwing being taken by poachers again when she couldn’t save her. She now really wished she had Poppy here as this was her friend. Not her pet, her friend; Poppy made that clear.

“You know that Hippogriff?” Onai inquired.

Imelda looked over her shoulder at her. “More or less,” she muttered before watching Harlow stalk closer to Highwing. She glared daggers at his back, which had an embroidered design of a snake. Probably referring to Ashwinders, but seriously, that was so obvious and tacky.

“Get this thing back to the roof, now!” Harlow ordered as they ushered Highwing back into the castle.

Imelda frowned. Why the roof? What purpose was there for poachers to have Hippogriffs on the roof?

“Very well,” Onai decisively said. “New plan: I’ll get the letter and you free the Hippogriff. We’ll meet on the roof.”

Imelda was about to tell her that splitting up in a clearly-heavily occupied keep was a horrible idea and she couldn’t look out for Onai if they were separate. Then she saw the doors start to swing closed.

“Now’s our chance, let’s go!” Onai said and bolted straight for the doors.

“Onai!” Imelda hissed before leaping onto her feet and running after her. Her stomach flipped at seeing their shot become narrower and narrower. She tried to pick up the pace as Onai managed to slip in, but she was too late. Imelda had to hold up her hands to brace herself as the doors closed right in front of her. Imelda stared at the wooden, reinforced doors before grunting and turning away and muttering dozens of Spanish curses to herself.

She backed up to stare up at the castle with her hands on her hips. The roof seemed to be a straight shot up from here. She critically eyed the area, looking for a less lit spot to safely ascend with her broom.

She spotted to her right a simple wooden structure like the one she and Onai used to climb up. Imelda took a deep breath and dashed toward it, once again using her momentum to run up and grab the edge. She grunted as she slowly but surely pulled herself up. She stayed crouched as she looked in the little spot she was in. The lanterns weren’t casting a glow this far from the doors. She tilted her head up, and she saw the top of the castle. Just a straight shot up. This should work.

Imelda carefully slipped the strap off her shoulder again, and deftly mounted it in one fell motion. She instantly kicked off and flew in a tight spiral around the tower, staying close to the unlit walls. She did see poachers stationed below on ledges to keep guard, and she made sure to go either above or below any windows in case any looked outside. It was a tedious task, but she knew it was mostly easier to quickly ascend in a spiral than ascend in a straight line.

She finally got to the top and steadily landed, seeing two Hippogriffs there: Highwing and a brown one. Imelda held her broom in one hand and took a step toward them before the brown Hippogriff squawked and reared up, flapping its wings in an intimidating way. Imelda staggered back, carefully watching the talons.

You must always show Hippogriffs the proper courtesy before you approach them, Poppy’s advice echoed in her mind.

She swallowed and forced away her fear, slowly bending at the waist. She stared at the cobblestone floor and heard the wing flapping stop. She stayed low for a long minute before taking a chance and looking up.

Highwing had already bowed her head, and the brown one seemed to have bowed out of reluctance. Imelda let out a shuddering breath of relief before coming closer to them. She went up to Highwing and gently patted the side of her neck. The soft feathers almost made her forget the danger of being found and captured. Almost.

She looked down at the talons, frowning at the shackles on Highwing and the other Hippogriff. “Hold on,” she said, taking her wand out with her free hand. She pointed it at Highwing’s chains, uttering, “Alohomora.” The locks instantly opened and fell. Highwing squawked and rubbed her beak against Imelda’s head for a second while she lifted her talons to test their freedom. She did the same with her hooves.

Imelda turned to the brown Hippogriff that seemed indignant and expecting the same treatment. She lightly rolled her eyes at how similar she was to it. She in fact casted the spell again at its chains. The Hippogriff clacked its beak and vigorously shook its head while flapping its wings. The moment the shackles were off, it ran off the roof and flew into the night.

Imelda huffed, thinking the Hippogriff could have helped them get away, but she couldn’t blame it for not wanting to stick around.

“Don’t leave just yet,” Imelda implored Highwing, petting her neck again. “We need your help.” Imelda blinked and inwardly sighed. She couldn’t believe she was talking to a Hippogriff.

She jumped at hearing rapid footsteps, and she turned to the doorway, pointing her wand at it. Her heart was hammering hard in her ribs, petrified about possible tactics she could use against Harlow or poachers. Her last combat with those goblins came back into her mind, and her stomach churned once again at remembering how that went. Would there be a repeat of events? Was she going to have to call down lightning?

Thankfully, it was just Onai running out, and Imelda lowered her wand. “There you are!” The Gryffindor exclaimed, sounding as relieved as Imelda was.

Highwing squawked, and Imelda patted her back this time. “She’s a friend,” she told the Hippogriff. “You need to help her.” But she could see Highwing somewhat believed her. She turned to Onai. “Bow.”

“What?” Onai asked, staring at Highwing with wonder and caution.

“You need to treat her with respect so she can trust you, so she can get you off this tower,” Imelda hurriedly explained with a wild gesturing of her hand. “So, bow.”

Onai didn’t protest and quickly bowed at a thirty-degree angle. Highwing clacked her beak and stood up, impatiently opening and closing her wings. Onai stayed where she was, and then they all stiffened at hearing raised voices of outrage. And…they were getting louder as if they were coming closer.

“What did you do?” Imelda frantically asked.

“I summoned the letter right out of Harlow’s hands,” Onai dismissively answered, still staying in her bowing position.

Imelda gaped at her and bit her tongue from telling her off or panic-cursing in Spanish. She looked at Highwing still peering at Onai. Just bow in return, bow in return, bow in return, she pleaded in her mind.

Highwing must have considered the urgency in the matter and finally bowed her head to Onai.

“Thank Merlin,” Imelda said and went over to grab Onai’s robes. Onai straightened in surprise. Imelda hastily shoved her toward Highwing, only thinking We need to get out of here. “Get on her and go.”

Onai turned to her as if to question what Imelda’s plan was, but then they heard people getting closer. Imelda panicked and pointed her wand at the floor of the doorway and yelled, “Glacius!” Ice formed there, crackling and solidifying just in time for the first poacher to slip on it and yell as he fell right onto his back. Imelda winced at the cracking sound, but she whirled around to focus on leaving.

Onai thankfully got onto Highwing’s back while Imelda was busy, and Highwing squawked before trotting to the edge. Onai made a surprised noise and tightly hugged Highwing’s neck to stay on.

Imelda ran right behind Highwing and jumped off while mounting her broom. She barely flew away from the keep when she heard the poachers manage to get past her slippery trap.

“Stop them!” Harlow barked, and Imelda felt the hair on the back of her neck rise.

She saw over her shoulder three poachers and Harlow standing on the top with their wands lit with blazing fire. Highwing squawked at looking behind at the danger and dove. Imelda saw the blasts of Confringo coming and dodged them with her Quidditch instincts of dodging Bludgers.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Her heart stopped as she saw the streak of lime green light in the corner of her eye. She hastily steered away to where Highwing was far ahead and safe from any spells. She leaned forward to accelerate and catch up to the Hippogriff.

Onai seemed to have gotten over the terrifying escape they just went through, laughing as she enjoyed the view on Highwing’s back. Imelda shook her head, still feeling goosebumps under her robe sleeves.

Wind whipped through her ponytail, and she felt the adrenaline ebb away for her to have a peace of mind. Imelda took a deep breath, inhaling the wonderful scents of pine trees and fresh mist of the nearby mountains. She started to relax like she always did while flying, the goosebumps finally dwindling away.

Imelda saw the night sky with the half-full moon and constellations serenely shine down over the Highlands. She…never really flew this late out during the school year. She had never seen the world like this before now.

“What a view!” Onai called out with a laugh.

“It is something,” Imelda said back, actually smiling a bit as she replied.

She looked down to notice the Hogwarts Express running late at night, chugging a trail of smoke along the way. She curiously flew closer to it, wondering who or what was being transported at this time. It wasn’t anywhere close to Christmas, where students could go home for the winter break, so what was it doing?

When they flew over Hogsmeade Station, Imelda saw Highwing dive down toward the Black Lake. She curiously followed suit, flying alongside the Hippogriff. She felt a sense of deja vu as this was a similar route to Isaac Cooper’s time trial. She smiled to herself. She wondered what he would think if he saw her now.

“This is amazing!” Onai cried out, a smile evident in her voice. Imelda looked over at her again, seeing how thrilled she was. Imelda wasn’t sure she could be that excited after what they just got away from, but she did always feel better flying. And the sights were certainly ones to remember.

Imelda noticed Highwing dip her talons into the water, and she couldn’t help but fly lower and reach out with a hand to do the same. Imelda let out a shocked breath at feeling how cold the lake was but she still smiled at the sensation. How come she never tried to experience this in the past four years?

She ruefully smiled as she knew: she never cared to do more than what she needed or wanted, which was to be the best flier and Quidditch player. What else had she missed out on because of her narrow-minded passion and goals? What else would she get to experience? What else would she like to experience?

Imelda eyed the Hippogriff and noticed Highwing was creating more distance between them. She put her hand back on her broom and concentrated, catching up to Highwing. Even so, the flying creature seemed to get ahead of her just by a little bit.

Well, what do you know? Imelda thought with amusement and a lifted eyebrow. Highwing could fly faster than her at a leisure pace. She wondered if that would change if they were both flying as fast as they could.

Eventually, Highwing veered to a ledge near the outskirts of Hogsmeade that overlooked the Black Lake and Hogwarts further ahead. She must have been wanting to rest, and Imelda didn’t blame her one bit.

She landed right next to Highwing and patted her neck again. “We’ll get you back to Poppy, don’t worry,” she said. Highwing trilled, obviously happy to reunite with her best friend.

“Poppy?” Onai echoed as she slid off Highwing’s back. “That’s how you know this Hippogriff?”

Imelda turned to her and nodded. “Poppy introduced me to her after Beasts class.”

Onai’s eyebrows shot up before she chuckled. She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m not that surprised about Poppy being friends with a Hippogriff, but I am surprised she would trust you so closely.”

Imelda shrugged. “I’m surprised too, but she must see something even I don’t see,” she reasoned before turning back to the Hippogriff.

Onai hummed thoughtfully as she regarded Imelda. “Maybe,” she mused mostly to herself.

Imelda considered telling Onai that she wasn’t the same person as she was for the past four years, but she believed Onai was already seeing it for herself.

“Garreth had mentioned you were different before,” Onai said, looking at Imelda with an indiscernible expression. Then she smiled. “It’s still nice to see it, though.”

Imelda frowned. “What did he say?” She didn’t think Garreth disliked how she was in the past, as their brief moments over the years were amicable. Especially last year. …Why did she care what he thought?

“Just that you’ve started to consider more than just Quidditch.” Onai shrugged. “He also said he was happy to see that, and he was hoping to be your friend.”

Imelda snorted at the last part. They already established they were friends, ever since he was there for her when she had a breakdown. Her cheeks warmed as she figured that Garreth’s conversation with Onai about her was old.

“He always wanted to be my friend since first year,” she muttered, thinking back to that first Potions class. Then later when he proudly told her he figured out her first name. She felt a strange warm ache in her chest. How different things were back then…

She wondered what would have changed if she had simply reached back when he reached out to her with friendship.

“I didn’t know that,” Onai said.

Imelda stiffened as she remembered once again with an embarrassed blush that Onai didn’t come to Hogwarts until last year. Of course she didn’t know all that happened between her and Garreth. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I hope you still have that evidence we just risked our necks for?”

“I did,” Onai answered before reaching into her robes and showing the letter to Imelda with a proud grin.

Imelda grimaced at seeing how nonchalant Onai was being. “We nearly died back there,” she bluntly said.

“I had it all under control,” she said with a confidence that made irritation rise within Imelda.

“You had it all under control,” she dryly echoed as she walked up to Onai. She reached up and—

Onai yelped at her ear being pinched, and she moved away. “What was that for?” She exclaimed as she rubbed her ear.

Imelda frowned at her as she put her hand on her hip while her other hand tightened on her broom. “So it was ‘under your control’ when Harlow sent the bloody Killing Curse at us?”

Onai averted her gaze and hesitantly said, “I did not expect him to—”

“That’s what will keep happening if you keep getting involved!” She snapped back. Onai started to scowl, and Imelda sighed, trying to calm down. “You can’t keep recklessly charging into these things, noble reasons or not.” I already have Sebastian doing that, she grumbled in her mind.

Onai looked away, obviously disappointed in Imelda’s words. “I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself.”

Imelda sighed and shook her head. There was that Gryffindor bravado again… At least Garreth wouldn’t be that reckless, right? She thought. She started to reach for the handkerchief out of habit.

“But, you need to be on your guard too,” Onai added. She gave her a sympathetic expression. “He won’t forget this.”

“I can handle myself,” she repeated back, and Onai actually laughed. But Imelda knew that her statement probably rang more true than Onai’s. She watched Onai safely store the letter back into her robes. “What was in the letter, by the way?”

“That Rookwood’s looking for a phoenix,” she answered. She chuckled. “I’m not sure where he would find one. But, it also included Harlow’s orders to inspect the castle for the poachers. Enough to connect Harlow to the crimes. I shall deliver the letter to Officer Singer. She’ll have to do something when she sees it.”

Imelda merely made a short humming noise. She was disappointed that was all the letter said. Victor went through all that trouble of sending a letter with his seal over a phoenix and poachers? She wished that the letter was more incriminating, but there had been cases of people going to Azkaban for far less…

Onai started to leave. “I must go. My mother will be worried. Thank you for coming to help all the same.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied in a mutter.

Highwing clacked her beak and lowered herself. She must have figured giving Onai a ride to Hogwarts would also lead her to Poppy. Onai smiled and mounted the Hippogriff.

“Why, thank you, Highwing,” Onai said, patting the feathers on her neck. Highwing happily squawked, and Onai smiled at Imelda. “I shall let you know if there is any new development. I’ll see you around!”

Imelda waved and watched Highwing get a running start before taking off toward the Hogwarts castle. She sighed and mounted her broom to head back to the castle. She realized that she would have to sneak back into the Slytherin House as she left before curfew.

She sighed with a groan before flying back, trying to come up with a plan. Going out for late night adventures better not become a norm…

Chapter Text

Imelda woke up and loathed the fact she actually slept in. She wasn’t used to staying up as late as she did last night when she helped Onai. She would like to say it was worth it, but that thought would have to wait until she was more awake for the day.

She was rubbing her eyes so much that she almost missed the barn owl perched on her trunk. She noticed it and gasped as her heart jolted.

“For Merlin’s sake,” she muttered as she saw the amicable owl simply wait for her to approach it. “Whose owl are you?”

The barn owl stayed quiet and just stayed still. She sighed and unrolled the note. The second she did, the owl hovered by the door. Imelda rolled her eyes and opened it for the owl, and it instantly flew out.

She shook her head before reading the note.

Ms. Reyes, come see me in my classroom.

Professor Sharp

Imelda’s stomach plummeted. “Oh, Merlin,” she whispered. What did that mean? It was foreboding and vague, and it could mean a million things! Did he find out she and Garreth were brewing Polyjuice? Did Madam Sribner ask Sharp about the “special assignment” she claimed to have to get that blasted Restricted Section book? She felt even more sick with fear as she realized that Sharp wasn’t an idiot and probably knew what recipes were in that book.

She was going to be in deep caca.

It took a while to get dressed into her school uniform (despite it being a Sunday) as her hands were shaking. She slipped on her house robes as if it were a suit of armor to protect her, and she walked out the dorm with her head held somewhat high.

Sebastian and Ominis were lounging by the fireplace, and Sebastian seemed to be trying to ask Ominis something in a low voice.

Ominis perked up at hearing Imelda approach them. “Imelda!” He called out and got onto his feet. He sounded relieved she was here. “Please, come sit.”

Imelda was a bit confused by Ominis’s invitation. Even though they were getting closer and were friends, she knew Ominis wasn’t offering with the goodness of his heart. “I can’t. I have to see Sharp.”

That got Sebastian onto his feet as well. He looked as puzzled as Ominis. “What for?”

“I don’t know,” she answered with a wavering voice. “But probably not anything good!”

“You don’t think he knows about the—”

“He might.” Imelda sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I’m just gonna go. If I get suspended, just bury me six feet under. I’d rather you two did it instead of my own father or grandfather.”

Ominis grimaced. “What kind of family life do you have over there?”

“It sounds very dog-eat-dog,” Sebastian mused, perturbed.

“You think that’s just a phrase. But my grandfather did have dogs that-”

“I want to eat later today, thank you!” Ominis loudly said over her.

Imelda waved it off. “I’ll see you two around. Hopefully,” she added under her breath. She took a deep breath to try to quell the bile rising in her throat as she left the Slytherin House. It didn’t take long for her as she just went up the stairs that directly led to the Potions classroom.

She hesitated at the door, worried about what kind of consequences she had. What if she got detention or suspension? Her heart stopped beating at how her family would react. Maybe her mother would be fine, but what if her grandfather acted icily toward her?

She let out a long breath, trying to dispel her fears. She wouldn’t know until she faced the problem, she supposed. Even though she preferred there not being any problem in the first place.

Imelda quickly opened the door before she chickened out, and she walked in. She was surprised to see that there was one other person with Professor Sharp at his working desk. The pale girl was her age, and had stark white hair done in a crown braid. She curiously regarded Imelda approaching them with eyes as green as her Slytherin robes.

“Ms. Reyes,” Sharp greeted, interlocking his hands on the desktop. “I’m sure you recognize your housemate Ms. Loreley?”

Imelda looked at her, but she was relieved to see that Ms. Loreley was slightly confused on who she was too. Well, this girl wasn’t in her dorms, nor was she on the Quidditch team in the past years. So…it was very possible they never crossed paths nor did Imelda ever…really care to know any classmates before.

“I’m Artemis,” she introduced herself with an extended hand out of politeness.

“Imelda,” she said back, shaking her hand.

“Right, you played Quidditch before, yes?” Artemis shrugged slightly. “I’m Madam Blainey’s assistant in the Hospital Wing, and I often worked the medical tent during Quidditch games.”

“Oh,” Imelda said. She was never severely injured, so she never had to go to the infirmary. That must also be why they never talked to each other before. “Does that mean you helped Malfoy last year?”

“Best I could.” She ruefully smiled as she added, “but there was only so much magic until he succumbed into that coma. I’m glad he’s alright now.”

“Yes, he’s just grumbling about not playing Quidditch like most of us,” she remarked.

Sharp cleared his throat to have the two girls focus back on him. He got out of his chair and faltered in his stance. Artemis, with her Healer instincts undoubtedly, moved to help him, but he kindly refused with a raise of his hand.

“You two are the most responsible students I know of your year, as well as in my house,” he started. He held his hands in front of himself as he continued, “I trust you two to do a rather…unorthodox task for me.”

Artemis straightened while Imelda slumped. She was just relieved she wasn’t in trouble. Her rapid heartbeat was finally calming down.

“I have two wards that are Muggles,” Sharp explained. “They’re your age and have been wanting to see parts of the magical world I’ve told them about. Of course, with the wards up at Hogwarts—and with our current Headmaster—they wouldn’t be able to come into the school.” He held up a finger. “However, Hogsmeade is available for them to enter and walk around. I want them to have a nice tour with reliable people their age.”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you…wanting us to…escort them?” They were assigned to be tour guides?

Sharp nodded. “Precisely. I would, but I do have assignments to work on as well as students’ potions to assess and grade today.”

Imelda felt conflicted. She didn’t want to play tour with teenagers she didn’t know. She didn’t even know Sharp had wards. He was a guardian? His gnarled scar, limp, and neutral expression had most people assume he wasn’t father material. Imelda just assumed so only because Sharp never mentioned them before or even had family pictures. Then again, they were just students; Sharp didn’t need to tell them about his personal life.

She forced herself out of that derailing thinking and merely made up her mind. She wasn’t going to refuse a teacher’s request. Especially since she didn’t want to get on Sharp’s less-than-neutral side when she worried earlier about being in trouble.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm,” Sharp replied. Imelda blinked. Was that…humor?

He looked expectantly at Artemis. The girl nodded. “So will I.”

“Excellent.” Sharp limped toward the door to see them out. Artemis and Imelda made eye contact before following him to the door. “They stayed overnight at the Hogsmeade Station inn.” Imelda remembered the Hogwarts Express running last night when she flew with Highwing and Natty. So Sharp’s wards were the ones riding the train… “I arranged for them to ride a thestral-drawn carriage to the south entrance of Hogsmeade, and that is where you will meet them. I’m certain they’ll be there soon, so you should probably head over-”

He opened the door, and Ominis and Sebastian yelled as they fell down in front of them. Imelda gaped at them as they sprawled on the floor, groaning from the impact. Were they eavesdropping? Why would they do that?

“Professor Sharp!” Sebastian said with a grin Imelda knew he used to try to talk his way out of trouble. “What are the odds that—?”

“Save it, Mr. Sallow,” Sharp exasperatedly said. “I don’t need to hear one of your worn-out excuses.” He glanced at Artemis and Imelda, and thoughtfully hummed. “You know what? Take them with you as well. Keep an eye on them.”

Imelda held back a groaning sigh at that, and she glared at the two boys. Sebastian winced, and Ominis must have sensed her glare as he started to wince too. They looked like her father’s dogs when they were caught red-pawed for causing trouble.

Now she was going to have to babysit four teenagers…

~~~

“Hey, at least we didn’t get detention!” Sebastian reasoned as the four Slytherins walked out of the castle.

Imelda rolled her eyes. “What were you two even doing?” She irately asked.

“We wanted to know why Sharp wanted to see you!” Sebastian defensively explained. “We were worried about you being in trouble, and we—”

“You,” Ominis corrected, “were going to step in if Imelda was in trouble. I was trying to keep him from doing anything rash.”

“Please, you were also worried for her!” Sebastian insisted with a frown. “You even mentioned using your family ties to appeal to Black if need be!”

Imelda sighed and rubbed her forehead. She was…at least touched in a way that they cared about whether or not she was in trouble.

She glanced at Artemis shaking her head at their antics, but she caught the shimmer of amusement in her eyes. Apparently, Ominis and Sebastian knew of Artemis. They recognized her in classes and even talked with her at the Hospital Wing before, but it was only a couple times in the span of four years. Imelda supposed it made sense as they didn’t have her tunnel vision. But now she wondered who else she unknowingly ignored over the years.

She felt like she was going to go dizzy from constantly circling back to the same musings. She got it, she wasn’t like who she was before. She’s moving on.

“Either way,” she said with mild irritation, “I now have to look after you two, along with these strangers.”

“I still can’t believe Sharp is a guardian,” Sebastian added.

Artemis shrugged. “He has a life outside of Hogwarts, just like the rest of us,” she pointed out. “It is admittedly a surprise, but I think it’s wonderful that he has a family of some sort.”

Ominis nodded. “Maybe not one of blood, but probably means more to him than he will admit.”

“And they’re Muggles.” Sebastian’s eyes shone with curiosity. “I wonder what they’re like.”

“They’re the same flesh and blood as us, Sebastian,” Artemis remarked.

“I know, but I mean about the different lifestyles! I mean, I cannot fathom how it would be to live without magic. Though if they’ve been taken under Sharp’s wing, maybe they’ve grown up with magic.”

“Aw, and you won’t be able to have a true Muggle to talk to,” Ominis teased.

Sebastian glared at him as Imelda snorted. Artemis had the tiniest of smiles with that shimmer in her eyes shining brighter.

The rest of the walk was mostly quiet, and Imelda was fine with that. She was only trying to figure out what to do with these wards of Sharp’s. She only somewhat knew how to act around her friends, but strangers that were also Muggles? It sounded like a recipe for disaster crafted by Sharp. Was this somehow a punishment for her and he just didn’t say so?

Imelda looked forward, and her heart leapt into her throat. Ahead of them by the entrance was a thestral-drawn carriage, and Imelda was still unnerved by the skeletal…horse…things. She checked her classmates and noticed how unsurprised they were by the thestrals. Ominis…might have been given leeway as he was blind, but Sebastian looked nonchalant as they got closer to the creatures. Artemis, however, seemed to have an amicable expression on her face when regarding them. She even went over to the thestrals and started to gently pet them! Imelda was absolutely confounded by her peer, well, all of them. How were they fine with such creatures that were associated with death? Maybe it’s because she was still new to seeing them.

Just get over it, she told herself with a deep sigh.

Sharp’s wards must have been told who to expect because once they were close enough, the carriage door opened. Imelda crossed her arms while Artemis tilted her head a little past the thestrals. Sebastian had a curious expression on his face while Ominis merely lifted an eyebrow.

A boy their age came out first, jumping down from the carriage. The first thing Imelda noticed was that he wasn’t wearing robes like they were. To protect himself from the cold, he was instead wearing a gray long coat that had a cape-like attachment that went to his elbows. Where the coat couldn’t cover, there was the thick neckline of a woolen blue jumper and brown trousers that reached his well-worn brown shoes. His diamond-shaped face was warm-ivory with a few birthmarks dotting his skin like Ominis’s did. He had thick dark brown hair that was somewhat long with his bangs swept to the right and tucked behind his ear. His russet brown eyes were full of wariness, and Imelda could have sworn his expression reminded her of someone.

“Hello,” he greeted with a tenor voice. He looked at Sebastian, Ominis, and Imelda before frowning. “I thought there were—”

“Are they here?” A bright, feminine voice called out from inside the carriage. The source of the voice moved to step out of the door.

Imelda wondered if she was seeing it wrong, but she thought Sebastian stood up straighter. She checked, and he seemed transfixed, staring at the girl with hints of wonder and curiosity. Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed before she looked back at the girl that the boy helped step down. The girl also wore well-worn brown shoes, but they didn’t help her be taller. The boy towered over her, probably a couple inches taller than Sebastian and Ominis, and Imelda believed even she was taller than the girl. The girl had the same brown hair and brown eyes as the boy, and…even the same face shape. She wore a lavender purple dress, though, under a light brown cape that draped all over the top half of her torso. Her hair was about shoulder-blade length, with a tiny part of it tied back into a little ponytail while the rest was loose. She regarded them with excitement and flashed a kind smile on her lightly freckled face.

“Hi,” she said with a tiny wave before holding her hands in front of her. Then she tilted her head at them. “Er, aren’t there supposed to be four of you?”

“Artemis is over there,” Imelda explained, pointing a thumb over at the thestrals.

The mentioned girl finished her quick meeting of the creatures and came over. She gave them a placid smile. “Hi, yes, I’m Artemis. It’s a pleasure to meet you two.”

The girl kept her smile, but the boy’s eyes widened a margin as he saw Artemis. There was even a faint blush on his cheeks, but Imelda chalked it off as a result of the brisk air around them.

“I’m Estelle.” She lightly rolled her eyes and nudged the boy with her elbow. The boy jolted and he gave her a scolding glare. That also looked familiar to Imelda. “And this is my twin brother Cael.”

“Sebastian’s a twin too,” Ominis said as Sebastian perked up, very intrigued.

“Really?” Estelle asked with a fascinated smile.

He nodded with a small smile. “Yes, I have a twin sister, Anne. She’s loads of fun, and plenty mischievous.” He sounded like he was lost in his thoughts, and everyone could sense something was off. Estelle looked a little concerned while Cael’s eyebrows furrowed.

But then Sebastian shook his head and moved past it. He gave them a grin. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Cael and Estelle.”

Imelda felt weirded out by how…boyish that grin of his now was. Then she thought it was even odder when Estelle’s smile turned shy and…was that a blush on her cheeks?

Sebastian held out a hand. “I’m Sebastian Sallow.”

“Oh, giving your last name too?” Ominis remarked. His clouded blue eyes gleamed mischievously. “These two must be significant to you.”

“Ominis,” Sebastian hissed with a glare at his best friend.

“Yes, that’s my name.” He waved in the direction of the siblings. “I’m Ominis Gaunt, and as Sebastian’s friend, I assure you that he isn’t always like this.” He smirked a little as if he saw Sebastian’s indignantly flushed face.

“I’m just trying to give these two a good first impression of wizardkind!”

“Technically, we already got first impression of wizardkind,” Cael pointed out, but he still shook Sebastian’s hand. From the slight falter of Sebastian’s friendly expression, Imelda could only guess Cael had a stronger grip than Sebastian thought.

“He’s right,” Estelle added and gave Sebastian an apologetic smile before shaking his hand herself. “Though, this is our first time meeting people our age with magic, so it’s still something new!”

“Well, then I’ll be certain to make sure you two have a grand time,” Sebastian said, and Imelda rolled her eyes at how thick he was laying it on.

Estelle stifled a laugh, and she looked up at Sebastian with amusement. “I’ll hold you to it,” she playfully said back.

His eyebrows went up, but he grinned more. Even though…they were still holding hands. Cael scowled and forcibly separated them. Ominis coughed into his fist, obviously sensing what occurred and he was trying not to laugh to save Sebastian’s dignity. Imelda simply didn’t know who was pinker in the face, but she simply shook her head at Sebastian. What was up with him?

“And I’m Imelda, if you wanted to know,” she said.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you all,” Estelle cheerfully said, her blush slightly fading away. Her eyes shone brighter. “I’m especially looking forward to seeing this village Aesop told us about!”

“‘Aesop’?” Imelda echoed. “You call him by his first name?”

“He insisted on it,” Cael reasoned with a shrug. “He didn’t like us constantly calling him ‘Mr. Sharp’.” Estelle agreed with a nod. Cael looked at the four of them. “And…you’re all in the Slytherin House?”

“Professor Sharp has been telling you plenty about Hogwarts?” Artemis curiously asked with another tilt of her head.

Cael turned to her and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “A little bit here and there,” he answered. “Though he has taught us how to make some potions too.”

“Oh, which ones?”

“Artemis is probably one of the best in Potions class in our year,” Ominis explained.

“Except for maybe Garreth,” Imelda chimed in.

Sebastian snorted and turned to her with a teasing grin. She was actually grateful to see a grin she actually recognized on his face. “When he’s not experimenting, that is.”

“He hasn’t during Sharp’s class this year, has he?” Imelda snapped back, quite defensive. She blinked with surprise at herself. Why was she so spun up about Sebastian making light fun of Garreth? Sebastian teased practically everyone, and Garreth was good natured to laugh off such things. So why did it bother Imelda to hear such a thing about the Gryffindor.

Sebastian merely hummed. “I suppose you’re right.” He turned to the siblings. “So, shall we head in?”

“Hey, I’m supposed to—” Imelda started to admonish, but then she thought about it. While she wasn’t exactly anti-social, Sebastian was far better with talking to people. He got along pretty well with most of their peers. Besides, Artemis could probably help as well. “You know what? Lead the way.”

Sebastian perked up before grinning at her. He seemed to be thankful about this opportunity. Imelda was just pleased to have someone else probably more capable of being a tour guide do this task instead. He turned to Artemis. “We can co-tour, if you’d like.”

“You can start, and I can add more if need be,” she offered.

He nodded and waved toward the entrance. “Right this way!”

The twins followed Sebastian, and Artemis went after while Ominis and Imelda were at the end.

“I’m not the only one noticing something between Sebastian and that girl Estelle, right?” Ominis quietly asked.

Imelda grimaced. “I think you’re lucky to be blind in this case.”

~~~

The tour took far longer than Imelda expected. While the twins have been told about the magical world, they were still amazed by everything Hogsmeade had to offer. Cael, Estelle, Artemis, and Sebastian spent what felt like an eternity in Tomes and Scrolls because the former two mainly read Muggle books growing up, and the latter two would talk to them about other books. Imelda and Ominis merely waited for them to be done, and Imelda was close to just ditching them for Spintwitches. But she stayed because she was supposed to look after everyone here but technically Artemis.

When they finally got done there with Sebastian buying the twins a copy of Hogwarts: A History and Tales of Beedle the Bard, they showed them Ollivander’s wand shop. Imelda remembered talking to Ollivander about his family heirloom wand that Richard Jackdaw nicked a few decades ago. Even though she could only bring him splintered remains of the wand, Ollivander didn’t seem to hold it against her. He gave her a small nod and a smile when they came into the store, and she remembered that he said he was indebted to her for doing such a tall favor for him. She still had that favor…

Imelda kept that in mind just in case her future went insane, and she merely followed the group through the rest of Hogsmeade. Estelle was fascinated by the clothing options at Gladrags while Cael was more of a sweet-tooth than any of them expected and he enjoyed Honeydukes. They both liked checking out the Magic Neep and J Pippin’s Potion shop, even buying more ingredients for their at-home potion brewing.

The whole time, Imelda saw how…utterly shy Cael acted whenever Artemis talked to him. And Estelle was the same with Sebastian. Imelda didn’t know Artemis well enough to tell, but she knew Sebastian looked at Estelle with a curiosity that was more than just wanting to know about Muggle life. Imelda felt strangely bitter at how well the twins were getting along, but she didn’t think it was like how she felt about seeing friendships.

She tamped down those feelings as they were wrapping up the tour by going back to the square and then The Three Broomsticks.

“You guys missed some excitement about a month ago,” Sebastian said as they leisurely walked through the area. “Two trolls had come through here and wreaked havoc!”

“Really?” Estelle asked with shock. Imelda didn’t miss the fact the girl was closer to Sebastian than before.

“That doesn’t normally happen, though, right?” Cael asked before eyeing the paths around them as if he expected a troll to come tramping in.

“No, that was a one time thing,” Sebastian waved off. “Imelda and I were there when it happened and-” Imelda gave him a warning look, and he closed his mouth. She still wanted to keep what really happened to themselves as much as possible if they could manage it. Sebastian cleared his throat. “The point is the trolls were taken care of, so there shouldn’t be anything to worry about.”

“Oh, hey, Imelda!”

Poppy jogged from the post office to Imelda with a bright smile. Imelda noticed Ominis suddenly straighten. What was up with him now?

“Natty told me that you helped save Highwing from poachers.” She put her hands behind her back and nodded to her. “So, thank you.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let her get killed if I could help,” Imelda said with a shrug.

“Either way, thank you again.” Poppy then saw the rest of the group, and her ears turned red from all of the attention that was on her. “Er, hello,” she quietly added.

They all chorused a “hello”, but Ominis spoke in a softer tone as he said, “Hi, Poppy.”

Her eyebrows went up as if she were surprised. “Oh, hello, Ominis.” Her shoulders moved a bit as her hands stayed behind her back.

He cleared his throat, actually fiddling with his wand. Imelda and Sebastian stared at him doing so. Why was he acting nervous? “Er, well…” Poppy tilted her head, waiting for him to say more, but it looked like the words died in his throat. Imelda couldn’t stop her mouth from falling agape at seeing Ominis’s cheek pinken. What was she seeing?

“Poppy,” Sebastian piped up. The Hufflepuff turned her attention to him. He gave her a grin that wasn’t like the ones he gave Estelle. Imelda could tell the difference, and she glanced at the Muggle girl. So she was significant to Sebastian. She looked back at Sebastian as he continued, “We’re all going to The Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer. Would you like to join us?”

“Oh,” she simply said, again looking surprised. Was this her first time being offered such a thing by her peers? Imelda didn’t blame her for being shocked if that were so… Poppy hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You aren’t,” Artemis said with a kind smile.

“The more the merrier,” Imelda offered, but maybe her tone was too dry as Ominis frowned in her direction. She frowned back at him. “What? I mean it!” She crossed her arms and focused on Poppy. “I’ll even buy your butterbeer.”

“You don’t have to,” Poppy protested, holding her hands up to placate Imelda. “I can pay for my own.”

“Well, let’s get going and find a big enough table for all of us!” Sebastian happily said. “Some of us might need to sit at the bar counter.”

“I don’t mind sitting there,” Cael volunteered as they all started walking to The Three Broomsticks. He rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced at the white-haired Slytherin. “Artemis, would you…like to sit with me?”

She blinked twice before smiling with a gentle brightness of candlelight. “I would like that,” she replied.

Imelda wondered if she was assuming things, but then she saw Estelle roll her eyes with a smile at her brother’s antics. That confirmed it and Imelda internally sighed. She wished she could have something stronger than butterbeer.

When they walked into the establishment, there were only a couple seats available at the bar counter, some tables that seated two or four, and one that seated a bigger group. Cael, standing close to Artemis, gestured to the counter seats, and she nodded before they went over there and sat beside each other. Imelda refrained from sighing or reacting too much as Artemis was technically doing what Sharp requested about them looking after his wards. She took the lead and had them all sit at the big table. They all sat around the table that seats six, and to Imelda’s immediate right was the empty chair. To her left was Estelle, and then it was Sebastian, Ominis, and Poppy.

They eventually got their butterbeers, and Imelda simply leaned her cheek against her hand as she nursed hers. She watched her friends talk to the girls and she felt nauseated at the clear attraction Sebastian and Estelle have for each other. Imelda barely remembered seeing Sebastian chase after past girls, and her stomach churned as she was thankful she was never on the receiving end of that charismatic grin. He was like an annoying brother to her. Imelda would think his head took more of a hit if he was a fraction of endearing as he was now. Estelle seemed pleased, at least, giggling and talking to him with a smile and tiny blush.

Then she was exasperated from how utterly shy Ominis was. Who was this boy that fumbled over his words? Imelda only knew Ominis with dry humor, snarkiness, cordiality, and attitude. He always had a good response or remark slip easily off his tongue. Until now, apparently. Poppy was timid and talked with him while cradling the butterbeer mug with both hands. While she told Imelda she wasn’t around many people, she seemed to manage fine with Ominis. She talked with a small smile on her face, seeming to enjoy Ominis’s company. Imelda knew there had to be something else between them, but she was too bored and…bitter. Again.

Imelda drank the rest of her butterbeer, feeling irritated at seeing these pairings in front of her. Sebastian being rather besotted and Ominis being flustered threw her off. They were acting so unlike how they usually were.

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” she muttered to herself.

“Ouch. I hope I’m not included in that classification.”

Imelda jumped and looked over her right shoulder. Garreth smiled down at her, and she was utterly baffled. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hey, Weasley,” Sebastian greeted with a grin.

“Hey, Sallow, Gaunt, and Poppy,” he replied with a nod to each of them. Imelda noticed he referred to Poppy by her first name, and she felt something truly unpleasant writhe in her stomach. Then Garreth noticed Estelle and curiously tilted his head. “Oh, you’re new.” He gave her a nice grin and held out his hand. “I’m Garreth Weasley.”

She shook his hand with a smile of her own. “Estelle Sharp.”

He blinked, and then his eyebrows furrowed as they let go. “Sharp has kids?”

“Technically,” Estelle said. “He’s our guardian, and we figured we would just take his name.”

“Oh, and you’re not in school with us so…” His eyebrows shot up. “You’re a Muggle?”

Estelle nodded and her smile turned nervous. “Is…something wrong with that?”

“No, no! I actually find that fascinating! I didn’t know Hogsmeade was able to have Muggles here, but welcome!” He smiled brightly at her, and Imelda was starting to feel more than bitter.

She was irate, not liking how Garreth was being so friendly with Estelle after just meeting her. What, did he fancy her too? The idea made her blood boil and her mouth feel like sand. It also…made her chest ache in a strange way, as if she were melancholic. That didn’t make sense, and she forced that confusing observation away. She wanted to drink more of her butterbeer, and she huffed at it being all gone.

She roughly stood up. “I’m getting another one,” she grumbled.

“Actually, before you do, mind if I steal you for a moment?” Garreth asked.

“You’re talking to me now?” She snippily asked back.

He blinked, perplexed, but he slowly answered, “Yes? Who else would I be talking to?”

She sighed and set down her mug, ignoring the curious looks of the others at the table. “Fine, let’s go.”

She refused to say she stomped. She simply walked a brisk pace right out of the place. As she treaded by, she noticed Cael and Artemis getting along swimmingly. They were leaning close to each other and talking in low tones, with them actually flirting with their fingertips lightly brushing against each other on the counter. Imelda rolled her eyes as all those bitter and angry feelings resurfaced. It was like a serpent wound itself around her stomach, squeezing it smaller and smaller while an indignant fire flared and something heavy weighed inside her chest. All of the sensations confused her and it made her more irritated.

Garreth led her to an alley behind The Three Broomsticks. He thoughtfully frowned at her. “What’s got your wand in a twist?”

Imelda scowled as she looked away. “In case you didn’t notice, I was in the middle of watching two couples be not couples even though it’s obvious,” she angrily explained, waving toward the establishment. She sighed deeply, feeling a little better now that she was outside and breathing fresh air. “I’m at least thankful I didn’t have to watch anymore.”

Garreth stared at her for a moment. “Well, either way, I happened to see you walk in as I was about to head in myself.” He grinned with a gleam in his eyes. “I wanted to get more butterbeer for my experiments.”

She surprised herself by blurting out, “Still haven’t used the Fwooper feather?”

He gave her a playful smile with amusement in his gaze, again strangely making her feel warm inside. “No, not yet. I intend to make the one feather you got me count.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No, I’m serious. I want to make sure I don’t waste it.”

“Oh,” she dumbly said, feeling the last of the irritated fire in her be extinguished. She felt her face burn, and she cleared her throat. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Garreth looked around them to make sure no one was close by and still leaned in closer. Imelda blinked at the proximity, and even though she was nearly against the wall, she didn’t feel cornered. Probably because this was Garreth, not anyone dangerous.

“The lacewing flies are done being stewed, and they will be fine staying stored until the full moon,” he quietly explained. “As you know, that’s next week, and I thought I would prepare beforehand how we would get that fluxweed.” He scratched the back of his head. “I first thought just sneaking into the greenhouses at night would work, so I did a…trial run. But Garlick must have some sort of a protective spell set up as I couldn’t even get through the doors to the greenhouse, not even with Alohomora.”

They couldn’t afford hiccups in this plan, not now. “So where does that leave us?” Imelda asked while crossing her arms.

“Well, I went to The Magic Neep, thinking we could just buy fluxweed he picked on a full moon, but…” He vaguely gestured with a hand before he sighed. “All of his goods are already harvested, and I asked him if he would restock anytime soon, but he said no.”

Imelda tapped her foot, trying to think of what to do. “So, we can’t use our own school-grown fluxweed nor buy it.”

“Unless you want to buy Teasdale’s entire stock of fluxweed now and hope he picks more when it’s full moon,” Garreth offered.

“And we have to sneak around to get it,” she muttered with a huff. She was already pressing her luck to not get caught, but if they were going with Polyjuice to do this, then she had to risk it. She just wished there was a security net of some kind.

“I could sneak around.” He gave her a grin and put his hands behind his head. “I know you want to keep being Ms. Perfect Record, even though you’ve implied your fair share of rule breaking. We just need to find fluxweed, and if need be, I can get it myself.”

“Have you tried looking around the school area to see if any was growing naturally?” She offered.

Garreth stiffened and he lowered his hands. “I…might have already, but…”

Imelda eyed him and noticed the guilty expression. “You picked them for yourself?” She incredulously demanded, now putting her hands on her hips.

“I needed some right away!” He defensively explained. “My fluxweed in the greenhouse wasn’t ready for my innovation, so I had to look somewhere!” He scratched the back of his head and lowered his gaze as he added, “I just didn’t know that would be the only naturally growing fluxweed in the Hogwarts premises…”

“Unbelievable,” she grumbled. She poked his chest and glared up at him. He immediately frowned, but she was more focused on berating him. “You knew we needed fluxweed, and you decided to be selfish—”

“Hey, I’m not selfish! I just incorrectly assumed how much fluxweed was growing nearby!” He stared at her finger that was still digging into his chest. “And put your finger down.”

“Or what?” She challenged, not budging a centimeter.

He glared at her. “Don’t test me,” he warned.

Maybe it was because she was in a bad mood. Maybe it was because he drove her mad when he kept doing his experimenting. Maybe she was just curious. She didn’t know, but she stubbornly just poked his chest again, still full of irritation.

Scoldings were on the tip of her tongue, but they went away when Garreth suddenly grabbed her hand and forced her back. Imelda made a small noise as she was against the wall and Garreth stared her down. His sea green eyes were dark like a storm, glistening with restrained anger. Even though this could be seen as dangerous with him towering over her, she didn’t feel threatened. She was just shocked and…impressed.

He still had a hold on her hand with his own, while his other hand moved to lean on the wall, right next to her head. “I respect you, Imelda,” he quietly said with his voice huskier than normal. “But I expect you to respect me too. So, let’s get one thing straight here: I’m not a pushover. If you keep snapping at me and poking me, thinking you can do that without any problem from me, think again.”

Imelda could see he was serious about this, but something about this thrilled her. She was attuned to his much larger hand completely wrapped around hers and sharing heat with her. Despite her pushing him to his limit, he still had a gentle hold on her hand and didn’t squish their hands between their chests. Another warmth from within similar to when he hugged her overwhelmed her. This felt hotter, though, like a fire was flaring and spreading to every inch of herself. It made her breathless, and her mind blanked while she felt an instinct to be closer to Garreth. As if he could make all of this warmth bearable or maybe he would increase the warmth and make it unquenchable. Either sounded fine to her, actually, since she would be enveloped in his smell of mint like she was now. Her heart was beating so fast, but not out of the adrenaline of a game or out of fear. Her legs even felt heavy, and that fire was settling in her core. What was this feeling? Why did she want more of it?

She forced herself to focus back on Garreth, and she merely nodded. “Okay,” she quietly said.

Garreth searched her expression before stepping back and letting go of her hand. She pushed herself off the wall, but her legs apparently didn’t know how to function. She fell forward, but was suddenly caught by Garreth. She held onto his forearms as his own hands carefully held her triceps. Why could she feel the heat of his touch through her robes and uniform?

“Are you alright?” He asked, gentle and concerned as he helped her stand.

Imelda’s face felt like she was sitting right in front of a fireplace, and she cleared her throat. “I’m fine,” she uttered, but she sounded nearly breathless. She sighed and retracted her hands from him, and he slowly did the same. She was able to stay standing this time, and she sighed as she rubbed her forehead. The fire within was slowly going away, and her breathing was normalizing. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Garreth shrugged. “Could be the butterbeer,” he suggested.

She frowned at him. “You of all people should know that there’s hardly anything in there that could affect someone like that.”

He gave her a teasing grin that seemed to still stoke that dwindling fire in her. “Maybe you’re more of a lightweight than you thought.”

“Shut it,” she grumbled, looking away as she heard him chuckle. At least he was in a happier mood, but she was confused by the sensation that still lingered. She took a deep breath to dispel it, and she crossed her arms.

There was a brief moment of silence before Garreth said, “We still need to figure out where to get that fluxweed.”

Imelda remembered a place, and she straightened. She looked back up at Garreth, who was curiously watching her.

“Oh, you have an idea, I can tell.”

“I know somewhere,” she started. She gave him a solemn look. “But it’s significant to me and no one else knows about it.”

“Well, now you got me all curious.” He smiled reassuringly to her like he did before about keeping her secrets. She knew she could always trust him like she had before. After all, trust goes both ways.

“It’s in the Forbidden Forest.”

He gaped at her. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” He ran a hand down his freckled face before sighing heavily.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been in the Forbidden Forest?”

“You forget my aunt is the deputy headmistress,” he said with a small frown. “She’s told me plenty about the dangers of the forest to steer me away.”

“A Gryffindor not rushing into a dangerous place just for the thrill?” She lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t believe it.”

“Well, I found resourceful ways to get what I want without ever needing to go to the forest,” he reasoned. “So I didn’t see a need to go in there.” He grinned as he added, “And I didn’t need to prove my bravery. I’m very secure in my bravery.”

“Right,” she replied. She moved to lean on one leg. “So, we’ll go there.”

“Are we flying?”

“No,” she answered with a begrudging tone. “While that would be faster and easier, we still have to worry about sneaking out and sneaking back in.”

“Ah, and Disillusionment would make our floating brooms just a little suspicious.”

She fought a smile at his remark. “Yes, it would.”

“So, next week after curfew, we’ll get that Fluxweed?”

“It’s a date,” she dryly blurted out, and he heartily chuckled. Why did she say that? She knew it was a common phrase, but it just made her blush for some reason.

“Alright,” he replied. He gave her another smile and gestured to the direction to go back to The Three Broomsticks. He was not helping her with the stirring feeling in her stomach or the strange skipping of her heartbeat. “In the meantime, would you mind if I had a butterbeer with you and your friends?”

“The more the merrier,” she simply replied, and they walked back inside.

Imelda saw that Cael and Artemis were still chatting at the bar counter, exchanging pleasant words and smiles. It still made Imelda feel bitter, but now, it was becoming clear to her on why that is. She was jealous. Not of any specific person, but just the fact it seemed like they were pursuing romantic relationships. Quite easily at that. While she was still vying for a certain person’s affection…

Garreth tapped her shoulder, and she looked up at him. “I’ll get us both butterbeers and come over,” he let her know before going to the bar counter. She saw him recognize Artemis, and then any feelings within turned sour. That same writhing feeling came back. Well, why would she be jealous now? Garreth was just…making friendly conversation with Artemis. Who…smiled kindly with a hint of amusement as they went back and forth.

Imelda looked away before she felt worse, and she went to the table. The four were talking with each other and seemed to have a good time. She wouldn’t ruin it, right?

Sebastian saw her, though, and smiled. “Imelda! We were just talking about Quidditch.”

She perked up. Finally, a conversation she was confident joining in for. She easily sat down and rested her crossed arms on the table. “Were you talking about professional teams or the ones we had at school?”

“Had?” Estelle echoed.

Imelda frowned as she remembered the Great Feast. “Headmaster Black cancelled Quidditch for the year.”

“What?” She asked, gobsmacked. “He can’t do that! I may be nonmagical, but even I know how important that sport is to wizardkind.”

“Thank you,” Imelda emphasized. She was starting to like this girl more now that she was actually talking to her. She saw Sebastian and Ominis share knowing smiles while Poppy smiled with some amusement. “Kogawa, our flying instructor, is trying to talk him into bringing back Quidditch. Hopefully he gets some reason smacked into him.”

“What do you do instead of Quidditch now?” Poppy curiously asked.

“Isaac Cooper is doing some time trials,” Imelda explained. “It might not be the game, but it’s still good and challenging flying practice.”

Sebastian and Ominis stood up. “We’re going to get some more butterbeers,” Sebastian said. “Do you need one too, Imelda?”

“Garreth is getting mine.”

“Is that so?” Ominis asked with some of his mischief back as he smirked.

Imelda rolled her eyes. She should have known he and Sebastian would think a certain way about it. “Yes, now go get the butterbeers.”

The boys chuckled and left them alone. Imelda watched them reconvene with Garreth, Artemis, and Cael over there. Garreth looked back at her and gave her a small smile before making a request to Sirona.

Imelda slightly blushed as she kept remembering what happened in the alley. The warmth, the closeness, the sensations. Even his scent…

She reached into her robes and took out the orange handkerchief again. She kept it neatly folded, and she still whiffed mint from it.

“Oh, that’s a nice handkerchief,” Estelle complimented while resting her chin on her hand. “Who’s your boyfriend?”

The blatant question made Imelda drop the handkerchief onto the table before she hastily recovered it. “What?” She asked. Where did that come from?

Estelle gestured to the fabric. “That’s a young man’s handkerchief. I’d know; Cael has one of a similar style. So…” She cupped her face with a sly grin. “There’s only one reason why a girl would have a boy’s handkerchief: you’re courting! So who is he? Garreth?”

Imelda blushed hard. “No!” She cried out. “I mean, this is his, but—”

“You’re courting Garreth?” Poppy asked.

“No,” Imelda hissed and stuffed the handkerchief back into her robes. “What kind of crazy idea is that, though, with having a boy’s handkerchief means courtship?”

“No, it’s an actual custom! Or at least, in the Muggle world. Giving a token like your own handkerchief to your intended partner is very common for a courtship.”

“Well, that’s just for Muggles—”

Poppy piped in, “No, my gran got a handkerchief from the man that would eventually be her husband.”

Imelda looked between them two and sighed heavily with a blush lingering on her cheeks. “Look, he gave me the handkerchief and told me to keep it just because. I’m not courting anyone. Least of all Garreth.”

“Why not?” Estelle curiously asked. “From what I saw, Garreth seemed like a nice guy. Why say ‘least of all’?” She tilted her head. “Is there someone else?”

Isaac popped into her head, and Imelda lowered her gaze, not saying anything. She was saved from any more questions as Garreth, Sebastian, and Ominis came back with the butterbeers.

Imelda straightened in her seat and muttered a “thanks” as Garreth gave her a mug. She could still smell that mint cologne from how close he was, and she couldn’t get rid of that blasted blush. She just took a long sip of her butterbeer, hoping the chilled drink would cool her down.

“So, do you play Quidditch too, Garreth?” Estelle asked.

Garreth chuckled after putting down his butterbeer. “I did play as a Chaser.” He grinned at Imelda. “But I couldn’t compare to Imelda here.” He nudged her with his elbow, and she was internally cursing at herself for being so flustered. “She’s the best player Hogwarts had ever seen!”

“I think my own grandfather and father would have that title instead of me.”

“Oh, come off it.” Garreth waved off. “Give yourself more credit!” He now had a teasing gleam in his eyes. “Not to mention all the other surprises that you’re full of.”

Imelda scoffed and drank more. “If you’re trying to get to know what they are, I won’t tell you,” She dryly said, smiling the faintest when Garreth and even Sebastian and Ominis chuckled. This…was nice, being with everyone and sharing butterbeers.

Someone cleared their throat behind Imelda, and she couldn’t help but think, I can’t even have a break for a moment? She looked over her shoulder, and her eyebrows went up.

“Miriam?” She asked as she got out of the chair. She could sense the curious and probably confused looks of everyone at the table.

Miriam smiled at her with her gray eyes shining like they always did. She was wearing her usual attire of silver robes with intricate embroidery along with her satin, gray scarf with fancy designs like the one Professor Fig wore. “Hi, Imelda.”

She moved closer to Mrs. Fig, and lowered her voice, “What are you doing here?”

“I was asking Sirona where Lodgok could be found when I noticed you with your friends!”

Imelda felt her stomach flip with worry. “You’re going to see Lodgok? By yourself?”

Miriam gave her an understanding look. “I can take care of myself, Imelda,” she gently said.

“I know, but…” Imelda realized what talking to Lodgok could do for her; maybe she could ask him about goblin curses. Then she would find out a clue to what kind of curse Anne had. “Can I come too? I wouldn’t mind asking him something.”

Miriam was at first surprised before blinking and smiling again. “That would be kind of you, Imelda,” she said. She gave her an apologetic look. “I am sorry that I would be intruding on your time with your friends.”

Imelda turned to look back at her friends. They were all trying to lean in and hear what they were saying, and they quickly sat back in their chairs and tried to act like they weren’t eavesdropping. She shook her head and told Miriam, “It will only be for a little bit. They can survive without me.”

“Alright, I’ll be at Hog’s Head. I’ll see you there.”

Imelda nodded and watched Miriam leave. She went back to the table and finished the last of her sweet drink. “I gotta go. I’ll see you guys later. Artemis is in charge of you,” she said while pointing mostly at Sebastian and Ominis.

“Wait, where are you going?” Garreth asked while Sebastian made a protesting noise with his mouth dropped open.

“Miriam is meeting a—” She stopped as she remembered Sebastian’s animosity toward goblins. “She’s meeting someone important, and I want to talk to him too. So, I need to go.” She didn’t hesitate before adding, “I’ll explain later.”

Garreth didn’t look satisfied, but he nodded. “Alright. But if you’re in trouble.”

“This is Imelda,” Poppy said with confidence. “She won’t get in trouble.”

“Thanks for the support,” Imelda replied. “So, bye.”

She didn’t say more before leaving, walking right out of the door. Imelda took a deep breath and headed toward Hog’s Head. She had never been because she heard it was where more skeptical people went. Or where people did business without having to worry about too many witnesses like they would at The Three Broomsticks.

Here she was, though, going in there with Miriam to talk to a goblin. On her way there, she noticed Amit watching the street musician Eddie Lark play floating instruments. Right, he mentioned knowing Gobbledegook… Would they need a translator? Maybe Miriam already knew the language.

Imelda brushed that aside as she hurried to the Hog’s Head. Miriam wasn’t waiting by the door, so she must be inside already? She just took a chance and went inside, closing the door behind her.

Imelda felt goosebumps as she entered the Hog’s Head. The place was…dark and cold. So different from The Three Broomsticks with the warmth of a fireplace and the cozy feeling in the air. And the people were standoffish, sneering and leering at Imelda. She clearly stood out in her school uniform, and she focused on searching for Miriam.

She spotted her at a table, engrossed in a conversation with a goblin. Imelda approached them and noticed the goblin had gray hair, dark eyes with dark brown irises, a pale blue work shirt with brown smithing overalls over it, and a red tie slung under the shirt.

Miriam noticed Imelda and stood up, giving her a welcoming smile. “There you are, Imelda! We were just talking about you!”

Imelda knew that had to mean Miriam already made sure this goblin was trustworthy. At least, she hoped so. She met the goblin’s eyes and nodded to him. He merely looked at her warily as she felt about him. At least there was a mutual feeling between them.

“Hello,” she greeted in a tight, cordial voice. She held out her hand, hoping this wasn’t giving off a bad impression. “I’m Imelda.”

“Yes, nice to meet you,” Lodgok replied, but he didn’t shake her hand. Imelda forced herself to not scowl. Maybe goblins just didn’t shake hands.

She awkwardly retracted her hand, and Miriam guided her to sit in her former spot. “Lodgok was just telling me that he was willing to help us,” Miriam brightly said.

Imelda perked up. “Really?” She turned back to Lodgok. Did he really want to help?

“I understand you do not believe me,” Lodgok mused. “When Miriam told me about you, I have my own disbeliefs about you.”

“Well, glad to know that I don’t have to pretend to be your friend.”

“Imelda,” Miriam quietly admonished.

Lodgok, however, merely lifted his eyebrows, his eyes not betraying how he felt. “At least I know you’re honest,” he remarked. “I don’t see many wizardkind being so open about their thoughts. Or rather, thoughts that didn’t involve hostility toward my kind.”

Imelda frowned. “Well, I’m certainly not like that.” She rested an arm on the table and leaned into it. “I’ve had my fair share of bad experiences with goblins, though. I won’t lie and say that I’m not wary of your kind.”

Lodgok hummed. “I suppose that’s fair. It is the same for me about your kind.”

“But you now don’t agree with Ranrok?” Imelda asked to make sure.

“Ranrok is going the wrong way for wizardkind to respect goblins,” he said in a despondent tone. “While I wish for the prejudice to stop, I know the way this is going will be nothing but a tragedy for both sides.” He looked up at Miriam, and his eyes actually held friendliness. She returned it with a gentle smile. He turned back to Imelda. “Now, I did tell Miriam I could help. I know a way to appeal to Ranrok after I left. There’s this goblin-made helmet that can only be accessed by wizardkind. If I can retrieve it, I would most likely be in Ranrok’s good favors again. Enough to gain intel to assist you.”

Imelda lifted an eyebrow. “How do I know you won’t double-cross us and actually help him instead of us?”

Lodgok wryly smiled. “I suppose we will have to trust each other.”

Trust goes both ways, she thought. She knew in the end, if Lodgok was on their side, this would help them gain more advantages to stop Ranrok and prevent a great war. And again, she needed a goblin’s knowledge about curses to look into for Anne. If that meant she had to gain his trust, so be it.

“Fine,” she said, moving to sit up and be more attentive. “Where do we get this helmet?”

Chapter Text

Lodgok, after giving the details, told them he would meet them near the witch’s tomb after they got any supplies they needed.

Imelda and Miriam watched him leave, and Imelda got up, ready to follow. Miriam, however, kindly stopped her with a hand on the shoulder.

“What?” She asked.

Miriam glanced at the people peering at them before lowering her voice. “Before we go out there, perhaps you need a wardrobe change.”

Imelda looked down at her outfit that was the Slytherin uniform. “You think I need to? Rookwood and Ranrok know what I look like.”

The witch shrugged as they walked out. “That may be so, but if they told their subordinate fighters to just look for a Slytherin student, you might be able to lower chances of being recognized if you change your appearance.”

Imelda grimaced. “Does that mean I should change the color of my hair?”

Miriam tittered. “I don’t think that’s necessary; besides, a different outfit tailor-made for adventure or exploration would be useful. You never know where those trials will take you.”

Imelda could see her point. She did often worry about her uniform being ruined in a way she couldn’t excuse. When she came back to Professor Fig, covered in spider gunk, webs, and stone dust, he helped her clean it all up. It would be nice to have an outfit for if she ever needed to go anywhere outside Hogwarts or Hogsmeade or anywhere else nearby.

“Very well,” she replied. “I guess we should go to Gladrags.”

“Don’t worry about any expenses, dear,” Miriam reassured her as they walked past Ernie Lark. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You don’t have to,” Imelda protested, but trailed off when she saw Miriam smile kindly at her. It was like how her own mother smiled at her. That gave Imelda the same cozy, safe warmth she felt when she was home. “Okay.”

Miriam’s delighted expression in response made Imelda feel less guilty about her buying the outfit.

Less than half an hour later, Imelda was walking out of the Gladrags shop and readjusting the arm guards. She was wearing what Augustus Hill happily called the “Crimson Mystic Ensemble”. Imelda, naturally being a Slytherin, preferred wearing green, but she figured it was better to go with a different color to be less recognizable. She remembered seeing her mother wear red before, even in this shade, and she looked beautiful. She hoped she had a fraction of her beauty in this.

“Alright, are we ready to go see Lodgok?” Imelda asked, turning to Miriam.

Miriam nodded with a smile. “We can head over there now. If we’re fortunate, you should have time to reunite with your friends.”

Imelda thought about going back to that group. It…excited her that she had more people to interact with. Even if it was clear there were some romantic interests between some of them. At least Garreth wasn’t tied into that mess.

“If they’re not too busy,” she modestly said, though she hoped to try to be more involved this time. Maybe she would try talking to Estelle again, since she seemed friendly, but also Poppy would be good to talk to especially after her “fun” with Onai and Harlow. She wouldn’t mind talking to Artemis either, as knowing a student proficient in healing spells might be useful for her.

Imelda walked beside Miriam as they headed back toward the west side of Hogsmeade. They were passing the Three Broomsticks, and her heart suddenly flipped from seeing someone she knew from anywhere.

“Isaac?” She called out.

He turned at the sound of his name, and his two friends also curiously stopped from going in too. Isaac smiled as he saw her, and he even waved in response. “Hey, Imelda!” His eyebrows went up before he let out a small laugh. “Wow, that’s a neat outfit.”

Imelda felt heat rise in her cheeks as her stomach was full of nerves again. She forgot she was wearing something else other than her school uniform and the Quidditch uniform. She felt a need to cross her arms, but she only fiddled with her hands. “Really?” She asked.

“It’s from Gladrags, right?”

“It is,” she answered with a shy smile and pounding heart. Was it normal to feel her heartbeat in her ears?

Charles Macmillan chuckled. “You almost look like a Gryffindor,” he playfully said as he tilted his head, his golden blond hair falling more to the left side of his face.

William Dale’s dark eyebrows shot up to his black, side-swept bangs. “Oh yeah, you’re right. That is close to Gryffindor red.”

Isaac laughed and turned to William. “You’re supposed to be perceptive as a Ravenclaw,” he teased, shoving his shoulder. He looked back at Imelda, his smile still making her stomach flip. “Oh, I thought you would like to know that I talked to Albie Weekes, and he’d be happy to upgrade our brooms.”

Imelda perked up. “I would like that,” she said. A faster broom would be useful, especially if she was involved in more insane adventures like at the Falbarton Castle. “I don’t have my broom now, but I can try to see him as soon as I can.”

“Brilliant,” Isaac replied. “And I think you’ll like the next location for the second time trial.” He chuckled. “I’ll write to you when it’s done, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied, trying and failing to keep from smiling more.

The three seventh-years opened the door and kept it open for… Imelda couldn’t believe her luck as she saw her group of friends come out. They thanked the older students for keeping the door open for them, and then they noticed Imelda’s change of attire.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Sebastian asked, completely confused.

Imelda rolled her eyes and tried to not focus on Estelle curiously staring at her reddened face. Estelle did ask if there was someone else… And she was probably putting it together.

“I have to go with Mir— Mrs. Fig,” she corrected herself. She looked over her shoulder to see Miriam patiently waiting with a smile. Was that…amusement shining in her gray eyes? Imelda turned back to her friends. “I have to help her with something, but it shouldn’t take long.”

“But it required a wardrobe change,” Cael remarked with furrowed eyebrows, obviously trying to figure it out.

Imelda put her hand on her hip, feeling the Celtic-patterned light blue sash tightly wrapped around her waist. “I’m not going into details about it right now, but yes.”

Cael merely shook his head, obviously not really wanting to know that badly. Sebastian and Ominis seemed deadly curious, but hopefully they understood these were matters she would discuss with them later. Probably when they’re meeting up in the Undercroft. Poppy and Artemis seemed mildly curious and maybe confused, but they probably wouldn’t push if Imelda didn’t say anything.

“I think it looks nice!” Estelle complimented with a smile. Imelda wondered if she was always this kind and cheerful; what was her secret?

“Thank you,” Imelda said, and she turned her attention to Garreth. She expected him to say something or even crack a remark. He merely owlishly blinked at her appearance. Imelda frowned and crossed her arms. “What, does it look bad?”

Garreth finally registered her question and then laughed while scratching the back of his head. “Sorry, it took a second to accept the fact you were wearing something not in green for once.” He gave her a supportive grin. “You look terrific, Imelda. Red looks good on you.”

Now it was her turn to owlishly blink. The nerves she had before seemed to have calmed down. Pleasant surprise washed over her, and a feeling of satisfaction settled deep within, making her feel warmer again.

“Oh,” she dumbly said. “Thank you. I guess.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I better go.”

“Wait,” Garreth said, stepping forward. “Would you like help?” He looked at her with determination and concern. “It sounds like you’re going to be involved in something dangerous.”

Imelda almost flat out told him she’d faced plenty of terrors and dangers before, but that would be in front of everyone else, and in public. She merely shook her head. “I’m fine. Besides, you’re still in your uniform,” she pointed out. “That’s not very protective gear.”

He frowned, but he didn’t insist. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” she affirmed with a nod.

“Well, be careful,” Ominis bade. “We might still be here.”

Estelle and Cael shrugged. “Aesop might be getting us soon,” she explained. “I don’t know if this was supposed to be a full-day affair.”

Cael shook his head. “Probably not, and he’ll probably pick us up in an hour.”

Imelda glanced at the twins and then at Artemis, but her peer gave her an assuring smile. “I’ll explain the situation to Professor Sharp. I’m sure he will understand why you had to leave.”

“Thank you,” Imelda said. She nodded to the twins. “It was nice to meet you, even if it was brief.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you too,” Estelle brightly said. “If you want, I could write to you sometime?”

“You have an owl?” Imelda asked. She should have figured, as Sharp was their guardian, they would have a post owl.

“No, a bat. His name is Dusk.”

Imelda blinked and looked at Sebastian, who seemed completely unbothered. His taste in ladies was interesting to say the least.

“Before you ask, Dusk was at the Diagon Alley store Eeylops Owl Emporium,” Cael explained. He gave his sister a teasing smile. “A vast selection of owls, and she chose the outcast bat.”

“Dusk is adorable, how could I not get him?” She defensively asked with crossed arms. Sebastian behind her put a fist against his growing smile, and Imelda caught the fond gleam in his eyes. Merlin, he really was taken by this Muggle girl. Not that there was anything wrong with Estelle being a Muggle, but Imelda was just surprised that it didn’t take long for Sebastian to like her. Then again, she didn’t know what they talked about for hours together.

“Yes, well, you don’t have to write to me,” Imelda said. “Sebastian would cherish every letter you give him, though.”

Sebastian stiffened and then glared at Imelda with a blush. She merely smirked back, pleased to finally return the favor of all the past teasing she got from him. “See you guys later, probably back at Hogwarts,” she said before finally leaving with Miriam again.

“Your friends seem sweet,” Miriam mused.

“They are for the most part,” Imelda said. “Sebastian and Ominis like to tease me from time to time, but it’s nothing malicious.”

“And that Weasley boy?” Miriam asked with a sly smile.

Imelda felt her face warm at the memory of how he looked at her. It was like he was mystified, and she didn’t know why, but…that made her feel pleased. Maybe as pleased as Isaac’s compliment to her. Or…more than? She shook the confusing thoughts out of her mind.

“He’s just being a nice friend,” she dismissed. “We should hurry and see Lodgok.”

Miriam curiously watched Imelda walk faster, but she refrained from saying more as she followed her.

~~~

Lodgok led them out of Hogsmeade and along a trail that led to the foreboding entrance of the witch’s tomb. Miriam was considerate and led the way in. Imelda felt a lot better having someone here with her. She was so used to doing tasks and trials on her own that she forgot how secure she felt when she was working with a grown-up experienced with magic. She didn’t mind working with Sebastian or Onai earlier she supposed, but they were the same age as her, and they were more endangered with their shared lack of experience.

Miriam was fascinated with the intricate doors they had to open by luring moths with Lumos to the doors like they were keys. Imelda merely wondered why everything looked desolate and crumbling to pieces while the doors looked to be in pristine shape.

They eventually had to drop down into a lower level, jumping into murky water before going to another large room where there was one of those spinning contraptions to put a moth on it. Miriam first did a drying spell on both of them, and Imelda thanked her. She had to admit that wearing this mystic ensemble made moving around easier without risking a cloak or robe catching on something or weighing her down.

“This tomb is far more elaborate than it needs to be,” Imelda commented as they walked further into the place, and she sighed at seeing the next door was on a higher level.

“The witch probably wanted to secure her resting place and keep any raiders from stealing her loot,” Miriam reasoned.

“I think she went a little far and beyond.” Imelda frowned and then wrinkled her nose at an awful stench in the room. She made a small noise of disgust, smelling something like rotten meat, maybe decay, and just the worst kind of mold. “What’s that—?”

She froze, and her heart stopped beating as she watched about three or four skeletal beings rise from the ground with gray flesh hanging onto the bones. Beady white eyes malevolently focused on her and Miriam before they staggered toward them with their elongated arms hanging at their sides.

“What in Salazar’s name?” Imelda whispered in a small, petrified voice. She had never come across anything like this before. She was starting to really like the sight of Thestrals.

“Confringo!” Miriam yelled and a powerful fireball burst into the chest cavity of the first one that started to raise a rotting fist.

The thing stumbled backward, instantly catching on fire and flailing its arms. What was most disturbing was the thing only breathed out a strange hiss, hardly making any other noise when it was lit on fire.

“Inferi are vulnerable to fire. Use any fire spells you know,” Miriam quickly told Imelda.

Imelda looked down at her wand. It was dim, not yet glowing with her ancient magic. She would have to wait to use her lightning, then. She fought back her primal fear and pointed the wand at one of the Inferi. “Incendio!”

The fire shot out of the tip and exploded into the midsection. Imelda recoiled, putting her arm up to her nose to protect herself from the smell of burnt flesh. She ignored it the best she could as she kept using Confringo and Incendio on any Inferi she could see.

Then she heard Miriam yell “Expulso” at a group of the burning Inferi. The immense explosion made the four burning Inferi shatter into several pieces.

Imelda did the same kind of technique on another couple Inferi by burning them, and then slicing them with Diffindo. She huffed and saw her wand was lit again. Finally, she thought with relief.

She saw the last three Inferi rise and head for them, and Imelda lifted her wand skyward. Dark clouds manifested above the Inferi with the thunder echoing loudly in the closed room. She harshly lowered her wand, and a bolt of lightning crashed onto the three. The streak of blue light burned the Inferi’s flesh right away with their bones dissolved from the immense heat of the lightning as well.

After waiting for a couple minutes, they decided that there were no more Inferi and it was safe to lower their wands. Imelda panted from the use of her magic, and she turned to Miriam. The woman simply sighed and dusted her robes. Imelda looked at her, incredulous. Was this kind of encounter like a Tuesday to her?

“Are you alright, dear?” Miriam asked with not even a strand of hair out of place.

Imelda swallowed and nodded. “Yes,” she answered. She looked at where the Inferi were standing and saw something remaining on the floor. She warily walked closer with her wand at the ready. “What are these?”

Miriam thoughtfully hummed as she looked closer. They looked like miniature skulls, and they gave off that same wretched smell. “Oh, those are Stench of the Dead,” she answered. “It’s the essence of Inferi. I’m sure Professor Sharp shared with you about using it for potions?”

Now it came to mind. Imelda did remember Sharp mentioning it and telling them that they shouldn’t go Inferi hunting to get Stench of the Dead, and only buy it from a merchant. For safety reasons, of course. She shrugged and started to gather them, managing to get used to the horrible smell just enough to not gag or retch. They were potion ingredients, and she probably saved herself from having to buy more in the future.

Or…she could again give them to Garreth, but… She blushed hard as she remembered the last time she gave him Shrivelfigs, and he in turn gave her a hug along with a strange sensation of warmth. She wasn’t sure she wanted a repeat of that circumstance.

“Do you by any chance have anything I can store these in?” Imelda asked.

Miriam nodded and took a large stone, transfiguring it into a decent-sized jar with a cork. “Here,” she said.

Imelda thanked her before putting the small skulls in there and putting the cork back on. Miriam then went to the black leather flap of Imelda’s outfit. It was like a compact bag on her side, and the woman easily charmed it with an Extension Charm.

“There, now you can store it on your person, as well as other things if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Imelda mumbled. She put the jar into the pocket, and it magically stayed in there without making her feel the weight or see it stick out in there. She sighed with content before returning to looking at the room. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know how I would have fared alone.”

“For these kinds of tasks and missions, Imelda, you never have to be alone,” Miriam reminded her with a smile. “Those ancient magic trials might have to be, but you’re free to rely on anyone if you wish it.”

Imelda nodded. “I have already.”

“Is that so?” Miriam then gasped. “Oh, that’s right. Eleazar told me you recruited that Weasley to help you make Polyjuice. How is that going?”

“Fine,” Imelda answered as they worked on luring moths to where they needed to go for the puzzle in the room. “We’re getting close to having it done, I think.”

“That’s good. He seems like a smart and talented young man.”

Imelda smiled a bit. She could easily admit that Garreth was in fact smart and talented. He was able to brew more potions than anyone else in their year. That was a remarkable feat. She also remembered Garreth mentioning playing wizard’s chess with Sebastian and Andrew, two other peers that were intelligent. Even if Sebastian was impulsive and irrational.

“He is,” she quietly said. Then she gave Miriam an unamused look. “When he doesn’t go too far with his experimenting.”

Miriam chuckled as she had the contraption spin with Depulso. They stood on a platform that lifted them up to the higher level close to the door. “Oh, you remind me of when I was younger.”

Imelda frowned as she went to the spare moth and lured it to take its place at the door. “What do you mean by that?”

Miriam looked at her with that same amused shimmer in her eyes. “Oh, just how you act and think about some boys,” she said with a dismissive wave. She went over to make the contraption spin again to make the last moth rise up to them.

“Like that’s not vague at all,” she muttered under her breath.

“And what about that other boy you were talking to?” Miriam curiously asked as she moved her moth to the spot on the door. The dial on the door turned in a circle before the door opened for them.

Imelda blushed on instinct. “Isaac?” Miriam confirmed it with a hum. She tried to look nonchalant as they continued through this dingy labyrinth. “He’s, well—”

“Ah, you fancy him.”

Imelda stiffened before she made herself keep walking through the hallway. “Is that a problem?” She asked, half defensively and half nervously. She rubbed her arm and warily looked around what had to be the witch’s resting place. It was a rigid, straight room with lots of broken pottery, disrupted shelves, and even propped open stone coffins. Imelda expected Inferi to just pop out like they did before, but she couldn’t detect that strong smell associated with them.

“No,” Miriam answered as she walked past Imelda to take the lead. She gave Imelda a reassuring smile. “But do you actually fancy him?”

Imelda frowned, thoroughly confused. Of course she did. She had since Isaac supported her in Quidditch, even back in her first year when he stood up for her. He praised her flying, and he was a perfect partner in Quidditch in that he was talented himself and could work well with her. He was the only person she knew that cared about Quidditch as much as she did.

As fast as her lightning attack, something Garreth said popped into her head:

“There’s more to life than school and Quidditch.”

Imelda’s stomach swooped as if she did a steep dive. She realized everything she liked about Isaac came back to involving Quidditch. Was her fancy shallow this entire time?

“Oh dear,” Miriam softly said.

“You’re telling me,” Imelda replied, shocked by her discovery. What was she supposed to do with this information? If she didn’t really fancy Isaac, then why did she feel strange sensations around him? And then what were the sensations she felt when she was around Garreth? Because those were different too.

“I meant this.”

Imelda blinked and saw Miriam inspecting…a dead body leaning against the large sarcophagus. A fresh dead body at that. Imelda joined Miriam and stayed away from the curled up dead form of an Inferi. So there were Inferi, but… She looked at the dark mask covering the man’s bottom half of his face. She saw the snake fang design, and she glared at the body as she stood straight up again. Her blood started to boil.

“That son of a—”

“Imelda,” Miriam gently cut in.

“Ashwinders,” she darkly said. “They must have gotten here before us!” Imelda realized something and groaned loudly. “And Victor must be wanting that helmet to give to Ranrok himself to appeal to him!”

Miriam’s expression turned grim. She went down on a knee, searching the dead Ashwinder. “Organized groups often have their members have something to prove their affiliation,” she explained. Her eyes lit up and grabbed a ring, slipping it off the man’s finger. “Like this: a signet ring.”

Imelda saw the square cut ring with a textured shape of a…tree with some sort of banner underneath that had the Latin words Ad Radicem inscribed on it. She expected snakes or fangs, so seeing this design was a surprise.

“We need to show this Lodgok,” Miriam said. She casted Revelio and she perked up. “There’s a way out from here!”

“That’s a relief,” Imelda said. She didn’t want to go back through that entire mess of a maze and possibly run into more Inferi.

Miriam went to the wall directly behind the sarcophagus and felt around the small brazier resting on the low wall. She inspected it carefully before pressing the side of it. There was a loud sound of a mechanism before the low wall slid to the side, revealing a crawl space.

“After you,” Miriam invited.

Imelda complied and went in first. Whatever she was thinking about before was out the window. All that mattered to her now was to get that helmet back. If not, then they couldn’t gain Lodgok’s trust, and they couldn’t get insider information about Ranrok, and she couldn’t get answers about Anne’s curse.

Feelings about boys paled in comparison to this far higher priority.

Miriam and Imelda returned to Lodgok and explained what they found, and Miriam showed him the signet ring.

Lodgok cursed in both English and Gobbledegook. “We’ll have to act fast, before Rookwood uses it to further ingratiate himself to Ranrok,” he insisted. He waved a long-clawed hand toward the northwest direction. “I saw a camp of theirs not far from here. Hopefully they have it for you to take back.”

“Don’t worry, Lodgok, we’ll get it back for you,” Miriam said with a confident smile.

“I have faith in you two,” he replied with a faint smile.

“Thank you, Lodgok. I know how significant that is for you have faith in us.” Miriam turned to Imelda. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”

Miriam started to head for the winding trail nearby, and Imelda blinked, forgetting how spry the older witch was. Imelda sighed and followed after her, wanting to at least cover her back for this endeavor.

Imelda was wishing they rode brooms, though, as they had to jog quite a far way for this camp Lodgok said he found. Miriam was able to find it by using a tracking spell on the signet ring. They followed the trail made by the magic up a small hill. They spotted wooden barricades and posts ahead of them, and they both casted Disillusionment on themselves.

Miriam tapped Imelda’s shoulder before Imelda heard her move to the right. Imelda followed her, and they walked past the wooden barricades to hide behind a couple massive rocks and a tree.

Imelda’s heart hammered in her chest as she saw about five Ashwinders idly patrolling the large, open, flat area that was their camp. It was like a small, stone hill was carved out to make this clearing as the natural walls were of rock looking like it once made a peak. A fire was in the center, and a big tent was set up just straight ahead of them.

Imelda sank closer to the ground, not taking any chances to be caught. “What do we do?” She whispered. “They’d notice us if we sneak in there.” Imelda also didn’t like the idea where they just fight all of these Ashwinders. She couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t kill them, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with that conundrum right now.

Miriam was about to say something when they heard a crash sound in the far distance. All of the Ashwinders flinched and turned in the direction of the noise. Not much longer, and the ground around them started to rumble. An enormous troll ran into the camp and started rampaging it, swinging its club at the Ashwinders. The Ashwinders in turn were yelling for help as they tried to take down the troll. Imelda winced when she saw one Ashwinder get struck by the club and was thrown against the stone walls with a CRACK.

Reinforcements came from the right, and Imelda saw strange animal skull masks on some of them. Were they poachers? Imelda saw where they came from, spotting another tent and camp just across the wooden bridge. So they had two places to check…and that many more people to avoid.

Miriam nudged Imelda and said with clear slyness, “If they’re all distracted, they won’t notice us.” The troll was still wreaking havoc, even against about eight wizards, chucking boulders at them. Imelda did notice that the troll was preoccupying them at the far end of the camp, nowhere near the first tent…

“Let’s get a move on, then,” Imelda whispered before getting up to walk while crouching. Her entire body was buzzing with her ancient magic, spurred on by her fear and need to survive. She heard Miriam follow closely behind, and they hurried to the first tent.

There were only a few cots with animal hides as blankets and stacks of crates, but there was also a chest. Imelda quickly opened it and then huffed in disappointment as it wasn’t the helmet. She pulled out a strange armor outfit made of black leather, wondering if maybe the helmet was underneath it. She only saw boots for the outfit at the bottom of the chest.

Imelda didn’t think before she just stuffed the armor and even the boots into her magically-extended pocket. She closed the chest and saw in the faint candle light Miriam was moving back outside. She went after her, and they saw the troll was looking a bit sluggish from being relentlessly pelted by spells. They were running out of time.

They hastened across the wooden bridge to the other camp. It was thankfully unoccupied because the dark wizards went to help put down the troll, and Imelda spotted a large, flat-lid chest on a wooden landing of an open-faced tent. She ran to it and opened it, relieved and gratified to find what had to be the Helmet of Urtkot. It looked to be crafted by goblin silver and gold, with intricate designs of the visor, and was certainly made in mind for a goblin to wear. Why that witch stole it in the first place was beyond Imelda, but she was just glad they finally had it.

They thought they heard people running toward them, and Imelda realized with a racing heart that the chest must have been charmed to alert them if it was opened. Imelda didn’t have much time to panic or reprimand herself when Miriam grabbed her forearm, and Imelda felt a swooping and churning sensation deep in her gut.

Imelda stumbled as they were back at the spot in front of the witch’s tomb. Miriam Apparated them back here.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Imelda whispered, breathing hard as if she held her breath the entire time they were there. She might have, actually. Her heart was still thudding from the suspense and adrenaline, and she held onto the helmet like it was grounding her.

Lodgok had perked up from hearing them arrive, and he came over as Miriam dropped her Disillusionment, as well as Imelda’s for her. Imelda was still dazed from the fact she was deep in an Ashwinder camp and somehow made it out.

“You got it back!” Lodgok said with a grin full of pointy teeth.

Miriam looked at Imelda with a proud smile. “Thanks to Imelda. She was the one that found it.”

Imelda swallowed. “I just opened chests,” she mumbled, feeling like she didn’t deserve praise. It wasn’t like the task was harrowing… Even if she was terrified they would be caught or worse.

“In the midst of dangerous wizards. Not every student would have been able to do that,” Miriam kindly reminded her.

“Well, it’s thanks to you we made it out,” Imelda insisted. “If we didn’t Disapparate in time…”

“It’s quite alright. We needn’t worry about what ifs.” Miriam moved closer to take the helmet. Imelda forced her tense fingers to let go. “Speaking of which…best make sure there are no more charmed secrets…”

Miriam muttered incantations under her breath as her wand lightly tapped the helmet. The tip of her wand glowed in different colors for different spells and charms. Soon enough, she nodded and gave it to Lodgok’s waiting hands.

“It should be completely free of wizard magic now, Lodgok,” Miriam brightly said.

“Thank you, my friend,” Lodgok replied, his dark eyes shining with delight as he held the helmet. Imelda wondered what it must be like to have something of her kind stolen and lost for centuries and to finally have it back. Whatever she fathomed, Lodgok’s reaction exceeded it. He gingerly held it close to himself. “This is sure to impress Ranrok.” He turned the helmet, admiring it more. “The etchings, the contours of the profile. Remarkable…” He looked up at the two witches. “It’s good that you recovered it and returned it to me. Many goblins would have killed for it.”

“Lovely. I’m glad to be rid of it, then,” Imelda dryly said. She was nearly killed looking for it in the first place, with the Inferi, and then having to sneak to avoid Ashwinders and a troll.

Lodgok actually chuckled at her remark, and Imelda started to wonder if he was warming up to her. She hoped so; she didn’t know many goblins, but this one wasn’t so bad.

He lifted the helmet before hugging it with one arm. “This should earn Ranrok’s trust. I will take it to him immediately. It may distract him from his search.”

Imelda furrowed her eyebrows. “His search?” She glanced at Miriam, but she looked only a little curious and mostly grim.

“It’s an inkling,” Lodgok tentatively said. “But I am glad to have trusted both of you.” He nodded to Miriam with a small smile before looking up at Imelda. “Thank you both.”

With that, the goblin headed back toward Hogsmeade. Imelda frowned at the fact Lodgok didn’t share everything he suspected, but she supposed it was too early to expect that much trust from him. This was at least a step in the right direction.

She turned back to Miriam. “Do you think for certain Ranrok’s search is about the repositories?”

Miriam was deep in thought about it before she nodded. “I believe so. It makes too much sense considering it seems like he went to one of the places you’d gone for a trial.”

Imelda did remember Miriam mentioning she visited Rookwood’s castle, and Lodgok was there. Even though the two were amicable with each other, Imelda was still worried about something. “You think Lodgok will truly help us?”

“I do,” Miriam said with an assuring smile. “He was more than willing to trust us two, even calling us friends.” Imelda seemed hesitant to take that as evidence to believe in him, but then Miriam added, “If we keep feeling wary around those we are supposed to trust, we will never fully trust anyone.”

Imelda supposed that was true, and she took a deep breath. She had to trust Lodgok to not double-cross them. After all, if she wanted to not fall into the same pattern of wizards not trusting goblins and vice versa, she had to let down her guard at least a little.

“Er, Miriam?” Imelda pulled out the black outfit and the boots. “Could you please make sure no charms are on these too?”

“Of course, dear.” Miriam did the same process and announced with a smile that they were safe. “Although…” She said as Imelda put it back into her pocket, “while it is a nice outfit, it does look far too big for you.”

Imelda hummed in thought. “I guess I’ll just wait for an opportune time to give it to someone else, then. Probably for the same reason as why I had a wardrobe change.”

Miriam didn’t say anything, but Imelda caught her fighting a smile while having that same amused gleam in her eyes. Something told Imelda that Miriam already had an idea who she would give the outfit to.

Which reminded Imelda of her earlier epiphany. As she walked back to Hogsmeade, her mind was whirling around the fact that maybe she didn’t know her heart as well as she thought she did…

Chapter Text

As she suspected, her errand to get the goblin helmet made her miss the rest of the Hogsmeade trip with her friends. It surprised her how disappointed she was about it, but it wasn’t like she couldn’t try to do something with them.

It was just a lot of socializing, and she wanted a break from it for a moment. Not to mention she had to process so much excitement and new developments.

She spent most of the night staring up at the canopy of her dorm bed, thinking through everything. She could have been thinking about the fact she was working with Onai and Poppy to take down Harlow and poachers. She could see if they would like to work together as their people of interest seemed to be affiliated with each other. She could be thinking about that triptych and wonder if Sebastian did know where it was or if he had a lead on it. She could be thinking about the Polyjuice potion and go through the plan best she can about what to do.

But no. Instead, her mind kept going back to what she realized while being in a forsaken tomb. She didn’t know if she truly fancied Isaac. She always felt a little warm and her stomach was full of flying Snitches whenever she was near him. Was that supposed to be romantic? The feeling of being so nervous to the point of nausea? Was being so flustered and shy and even tongue-tied normal? Ominis acted like that around Poppy, but she also noticed Sebastian was calm around Estelle.

Imelda sighed and ran her hands down her face. She was still thinking about the fact everything involving Isaac had to do with Quidditch. All of their conversations were about Quidditch. They bonded over Quidditch. Their entire friendship and relationship revolved around Quidditch. She fancied him because of their shared passion for Quidditch. She racked her mind, trying to think of any other shared interests they had, but she…didn’t know Isaac that well. She had always admired him from afar, only ever being close to him when they played or practiced Quidditch. She knew he was kind and sweet, and of course handsome, and she did like that he was caring to his friends.

Great, now I sound like I’m trying to convince myself I fancy him, she internally grumbled. She didn’t feel satisfied with her thoughts, and after a moment of looking at her canopy, she moved out of her bed.

She quietly went to her trunk and opened it, finding her new outfit right on top. She slipped her hand under the belt and sash, finding the item she stored close to her person. She pulled out the orange handkerchief, staring at the simple design of the soft fabric.

Imelda kept thinking about what Estelle said about courtship tokens, and she remembered Onai recognizing it as Garreth’s. Did that mean Onai thought they were courting? Imelda blushed at the implications, but she knew they weren’t true. They were friends.

But…she was also friends with Sebastian and Ominis and she had never felt anything around them like how she felt with Garreth. She felt comfortable in a way with all three, but she never felt warm like how Garreth made her feel. She thought back to when he guided her into The Three Broomsticks with his arm around her shoulders. Then he protectively stood in front of her when Victor Rookwood tried to get to her. Or the time when he gave her his scarf while they were outside, and even covered her ears with his hands. Then…there was the time he was there to help her recover and he held her in the broom closet. That was when she felt the most safe with him, and while she trusted him with little things, it was then that she didn’t feel scared of being vulnerable in front of him. There was that time too when he hugged her, and he gave her so much warmth.

Merlin, she felt warmth spread in her chest at the mere memories of these moments. One more memory popped up, and her face burned from thinking about it. When she pushed him a little too far, he returned the favor and pushed her against the wall. He gave her so many curious sensations, and she felt so…drawn to him.

She sighed and put her hand against her forehead, picking up his faint scent again from the handkerchief. Her heart rate quickened as she instantly thought of Garreth from just the smell of mint. She was certain all of these were not feelings one had for just a friend. That made her more concerned. Did she fancy Garreth, then? What was she supposed to do about that?

A part of her considered writing to her mother for some advice; if there was anyone that knew Imelda well and for years, it was of course her own mother. But she imagined how that conversation would go. Her mother would be excited and invested as she never talked about this kind of thing before. Imelda grimaced as she could easily picture her mother telling her father about it, and she would rather not have him involved. He would probably act just as protective as his wife, and Imelda didn’t want to burden both of them and distract her father from his work.

So, she was on her own. Imelda tried to figure out what to do, even though fatigue was affecting her thinking. She felt out of her depth about all of this confusion. It angered her. She hated feeling helpless or stupid, and she thought she was both of those at the moment.

Displeased, she tossed the handkerchief back into her trunk and closed it, returning to her bed. She refused to dwell on any straggling thoughts about a certain Gryffindor, and she ignored the smell of mint that stayed on her hand. She definitely did not indulge her wonder about what he meant when he said “red looked good on her”.

She would never tell a living soul her dreams that night involved him.

The first day of school was painstakingly boring with typical classwork, but she was willing to take it as it would hopefully distract her from her whirlwind of emotions. Not to mention it would distract her from those dreams too.

Garreth was not helping things when if her gaze wandered to him for even a second, he somehow always caught her, and he’d smile or wave or both. Imelda grew irritated from how much she blushed, and it probably didn’t help that just looking at him reminded her of her infernal dreams. Which…might have been in line of romance and other things, but that was not the point! So she just looked away and tried to ignore him.

After the last class of the day, which was Defence Against the Dark Arts, she felt someone tap her shoulder. Her fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and she whipped out her wand as she whirled around.

Garreth yelped and bent backward to avoid being in line of her wand. He fell onto his bum, holding himself up with his hands. He looked up at her with bewilderment before getting back onto his feet.

Imelda’s face burned with embarrassment, and she slowly put her wand away. “Er, sorry,” she mumbled.

“Jumpy, eh?” He muttered, brushing dust off his robes. He quizzically looked at her with a hint of concern. “Did something happen yesterday? Otherwise, why did you react like that?”

“I…it’s nothing,” she denied, looking away. She didn’t know how to explain it to Garreth without having to explain everything.

“It’s not nothing,” he firmly said with a frown. He looked at her a little hurt, and her heart strangely ached with guilt. “Imelda, what’s going on? I feel like there’s a lot happening, and you’re not telling me.”

Imelda sensed the unspoken though. “I trust you, Garreth, but I just…”

“Oi, Imelda, is he bothering you?” Sebastian playfully asked while resting his elbow on her shoulder. She frowned at him as Ominis walked over to her other side.

“You know Garreth, Sebastian,” Imelda grumbled, shoving his arm off of her. “Of course he’s not bothering me.”

Garreth chuckled. “You’ve got quite the valiant, protective knights,” he teased. He raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll leave you be.”

He gave Imelda an imploring look, obviously wishing they could talk more. Her insides writhed as he walked away and down the stairs. Her confusing turmoil made her hesitant to want to confide in Garreth, but something about him made her feel comfortable and compelled to trust in him about everything. Again, that fear of opening up so much squeezed her heart with a vice grip. She knew the gravity of being vulnerable with Garreth was more than telling Sebastian and Ominis the entire truth. Being plagued by those blasted dreams made her want to wall up around Garreth for just a little while as well. At least until she could handle these tiresome feelings.

“Now, what did you two want?” She asked, her irritation from her turmoil coming out as she turned to the two boys with hands on her hips.

“You were going to tell us about what happened after you left Hogsmeade, right?” Sebastian asked with his gaze burning with curiosity.

She rolled her eyes. “Were you just waiting all day for this?”

“Yes,” he eagerly answered.

Ominis snorted. “I will say that I am also curious about where you went off to, with Professor Fig’s wife at that.”

Imelda rubbed her forehead. She did plan to tell them, so it was better to do it sooner than later. She was still wary about how Sebastian would respond when she told them about Lodgok, but she knew holding it off would worsen it.

“No time like the present,” she said.

The boys lit up before they all headed for the Undercroft…

Imelda filled them in on all that happened, and like she predicted, Sebastian’s expression turned from eager curiosity to hardened anger.

“You helped and trusted a goblin?” He cried out, rising from his chair with closed fists. He glared at her, looking betrayed. “Did you forget what they did to Anne?”

Imelda frowned, defensive anger boiling in her blood. She stood up too. “Did you miss the part where I said I am trying to gain his trust so he can give me answers about Anne’s curse?”

Sebastian derisively laughed. “And goblins are trustworthy, right? It’s not like they’re starting a rebellion and on the brink of war with wizardkind!”

“And all wizards are bloody jolly, right?” She yelled back.

“Sebastian, Imelda-” Ominis started while still sitting, awkwardly holding his wand with both of his hands.

“Goblins are selfish and cruel, and you—” Sebastian angrily pointed at her, fury clear in his eyes, “—are helping one! After everything, you betrayed Anne and me!”

“That’s a little-”

“I didn’t betray either of you!” Imelda shouted in a shrill, offended voice over Ominis’s protest. “I’m going along with this for both the sake of stopping Ranrok and for you two, you prick!”

Sebastian gritted his teeth and stalked up to her as they glared at each other. “What did you call me?” He demanded in a tight voice. “I couldn’t hear with you having your head up your ar—”

“Enough!” Ominis cried out as he forced himself between the two, pushing them away. He faced his best mate. “Sebastian, you need to understand that Imelda is looking for any possible lead since we don’t know who exactly cursed Anne. Getting information from a goblin, especially a defecting one, could be useful for us.” Sebastian clenched his jaw and looked away. Imelda was about to lift her chin, pleased Ominis sided with her, but then he turned to her. His scowl was still there with his frosted eyes full of defiance. “Imelda, returning Sebastian’s rash and hot headed responses with your own will only fan the flames and create more animosity between you two. Don’t insult the one you’re trying to help.”

Imelda was infuriated by Ominis, feeling betrayed in a small way. She was in the right! Why was she reprimanded in a part of this? Sebastian and Imelda simultaneously crossed their arms, neither of them looking at the other.

“Both of you apologize,” Ominis sternly said with his hands on his hips.

“Her first.”

“Him first.”

They glared at each other at their synchronized responses, obviously not wanting to budge in their pride. Neither of them wanted to admit defeat.

“Sebastian, didn’t you have information you wanted to share with Imelda?” Ominis prompted with a lifted, blond eyebrow.

“Well, I’m not telling her now,” he bitterly muttered.

“Oh, that’s really mature,” Imelda remarked.

“Like you’re a peach,” Sebastian snarked back.

“Fine, be that way,” she snapped before turning and leaving. She was too fired up and enraged to think clearly or even have patience.

“Imelda-” Ominis sighed.

She merely made a rude gesture over her shoulder on her way out of the Undercroft. She was sure Sebastian saw and Ominis sensed it.

~~~

For the rest of the school week, everyone could tell something was off between Imelda and Sebastian and Ominis. Sebastian pointedly sat on the other end of the table of the Great Hall, far away from Imelda. They would sit on opposite sides of classrooms too, and any look exchanged between them was cold as ice.

Imelda would be lying if she said she didn’t feel lonelier that week than she ever did before in her life. Never having friends was one thing but to have them and then not… It hurt deep within, feeling like something heavy sat in her gut.

This was worse than when she and Nerida had their big fight. At least then, she could excuse it as being a child and not knowing better. But she didn’t have that luxury. She did know better, and she knew she made things worse. Sebastian wasn’t right to accuse her like he did, but she wasn’t mature or calm when she should have been. Now, she was glum to believe she severely mucked up two friendships this time.

Maybe Ominis was trying to talk Sebastian into making up with her, but Imelda didn’t believe it would happen. After that awful fight, Imelda didn’t think Sebastian would want to be friends with her again.

Her loneliness hit harder when she avoided Garreth too. She was tired from her own personal problems involving her confusing feelings about him, and then this silence between her and Sebastian. Garreth didn’t try to see or talk to her either, as if giving her distance, but she wasn’t going to resent him about it. Maybe he wised up and realized he deserved a better friend than her. That thought made her feel cold inside, but she was too proud to hold his handkerchief for comfort. She didn’t want to keep going to it as consolation like some lovesick fool, even if it used to make her relaxed…

Saturday was coming and going, and Imelda couldn’t stand it. The lost connection between her and Sebastian was stifling. She didn’t want to lose another friendship, not after everything she’d gone through and trusted him with.

She finally, finally, swallowed her pride, and found Sebastian in the Clock Tower Courtyard, practicing his duelling on a dummy.

To say he was surprised to see her was an understatement. But he didn’t say anything and went back to the singed dummy.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she muttered, walking closer to him with crossed arms. Her heart was hammering nervously against her chest.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice even and exempt from his warm tone.

She gathered her courage before she lost it. “I…wanted to apologize,” she said.

Sebastian, having been in a readied position to send a flurry of spells, stopped and turned to her in shock. His expression was full of incredulity. “Come again.”

Her face was starting to burn with embarrassment, but she powered through and repeated. “I wanted to apologize. Ominis was right, I shouldn’t have retaliated like I did.” She wet her lips that went dry from her nervous state. “I am trying to help you save Anne.” Her typical defensive anger came up again as she saw Sebastian clench his jaw. “Sebastian, please trust me, like how I’ve trusted you.”

He stared at her for a long moment before he turned away. “Thank you,” was all he said.

Imelda was at least glad he accepted her apology, and while she was disheartened that he didn’t say more, she supposed it was still something. She headed back the way she came.

“Imelda.”

She stopped and turned to him. He was twisting his wand in his hands before meeting her gaze, his expression completely solemn.

“I’m sorry too,” he quietly said. “I…shouldn’t have reacted as rashly and thrown careless accusations.” He took a deep breath. “I do loathe goblins, but…I do trust you.” He gave her a reluctantly accepting look. “If you think this will help Anne, I’ll go along with it.”

Imelda felt weight come off her shoulders. Sebastian forgave her, right? And he apologized to her too. Were they still friends, then? She didn’t know, and she just nodded. “Thank you.”

There was an awkward silence between them, and then Imelda cleared her throat.

“Okay, well, see you later.”

“See you.”

As stilted as that was, Imelda was at least relieved that things were resolved in a way. She just hoped that she got her friend back…

Sunday morning, Imelda was eating a small breakfast of porridge when she saw two people sit across from her. She dropped her spoon when she saw Sebastian and Ominis were back.

“Hey,” Sebastian greeted with a faint smile.

“Hey,” she warily replied.

“I’m glad you two finally made up,” Ominis said, leaning his cheek against his hand. “Sebastian would not listen to me.”

Sebastian sighed, his ears turning red. He glanced at Imelda. “I…hope it’s okay that we’re—well, I’m back to sitting here.”

Imelda blinked. She wasn’t expecting things to go back to normal, if she were honest. Then again, maybe this was normal of an actual friendship? She never fought with Isaac, and she only had one fight with Nerida and they’re obviously not friends anymore. Maybe this was how most friendships worked?

“Er, yeah, I guess,” she said before going back to her porridge.“So, it’s Sunday. No post.” She looked up at Sebastian with a lifted eyebrow. “Did you get anything from your belle in the past week?”

Sebastian blushed as Ominis chuckled and said, “You missed it; A few days ago, Sebastian did get a letter.”

“Dusk was a good messenger,” Sebastian commented. “He is a bit…off-putting like he stares into your soul, but he does have a tendency to stick his tongue out like cats do. It’s kind of cute.”

Ominis snickered. “But then Dusk came back the next day, and Sebastian thought it was for him again.”

Sebastian’s face reddened. “Er, it was actually for Artemis,” he mumbled, busying himself with moving his fruit assortment around to make more room for eggs and meat.

Imelda stifled a laugh. “You intercepted Cael’s love letter to Artemis?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know he was going to have Dusk send his letters too,” Sebastian insisted, gesturing a little with his fork. “But Artemis and I came to a conclusion that if there was a letter with a flower attached to it, then it’s hers.”

“And if the letter smells like lavender, then it’s Sebastian’s,” Ominis smugly added, grinning like a cat playing with a mouse.

Imelda chuckled as Sebastian’s face was starting to rival the tomatoes in Ominis’s breakfast.

It was a relief to not feel lonely anymore.

Now that things were resolved, Imelda could peacefully polish her broomstick as usual. She was back outside, this time sitting in the Quidditch Pitch. She enjoyed the smell of grass as the autumn leaves fluttered around the field. It was a shame this nice pitch was going mostly unused this year.

She heard approaching footsteps, and she curiously looked up. Garreth was making his way to her, and she felt at least relieved he didn’t look mad. After he told her he wanted her to respect him, she worried her temporary distancing of him would send the wrong message. She didn’t want to worry about losing his friendship, and that was without bringing her feelings into the mix.

“Nice to see you again,” she offered as she ran a cloth along her broom.

“I thought it would be safe, so to speak, now that things are patched up between you and Sebastian,” he reasoned.

“So you’re not mad?” She asked.

Garreth tilted his head at her as he dug his hands into his Gryffindor robe pockets. “Should I be?”

“I just…avoided you,” she pointed out.

“Oh.” He shrugged. “Again, I figured it was having to do with you two Slytherins. I didn’t want to ask you what was wrong in case I just annoyed you and caused you to snap at me.” He gave her a small smile. “But things are good now?”

Imelda shrugged this time and looked back down at her broom. Her broom didn’t give her weird feelings of warmth, so it was easier to handle at the moment. “I think so. You’re still good for getting that Fluxweed tonight?”

“Counting down the minutes, eh?” He jokingly asked. She gave him an unamused look as she rested her arms over her newly-polished broom. He raised his hands. “Yes, I’m still up for our little adventure. I’m rather excited about it, since you’ll be showing me a secret place where all the Fluxweed is thriving.”

Oh, yeah, she thought. She forgot that she intended to take him to her little haven. Now her stomach was full of nerves akin to the dozens of Snitches flying in there. This was going to be something Sebastian and Ominis didn’t know. Sure, they knew it was the entrance to where Richard Jackdaw died, but they didn’t know she made it her own sanctuary. Garreth was going to be let in about that secret, and she was now worried how he would take it.

He’ll keep the secret safe, she tried to reassure herself.

She moved past her worry and added, “You’ll need a new outfit for it.”

Garreth laughed at first, but he stopped shortly after. “Wait, you’re serious.”

“I am,” she firmly replied. She leaned back to loosely hold her broom. She held it up to peer closely to make sure she got every spot. “I found at least one Ashwinder camp in the Forbidden Forest recently. I know we’re still young anyway, but maybe if someone just gives a passing glance, they wouldn’t first think of Hogwarts students.”

He looked skyward and nodded to the left and right as if he were weighing out the arguments in his head. He eventually sighed and looked back at her. “Alright. I’ll commit to a wardrobe change like you did with that red number you had on before.” Imelda dropped her broom and it clattered onto the ground as her face grew aflame. Her mind did not help as Garreth’s words of “Red looks good on you” came back to her.

“You alright?” Garreth asked as he stooped down to pick up her broom for her.

“I’m fine,” she hurriedly answered, trying to ignore the whiff of mint she caught, and her mind was reeling from feeling too warm and too drawn right now. She practically snatched the broom out of his hands and mumbled, “thank you.”

He gave her a confused look before saying, “You’re welcome.” His eyebrows furrowed as he lifted his hands. He sniffed carefully. “Why does your broom smell a bit like fish oil? And…olives and apple cider vinegar?”

“It’s my broom stick polisher,” she said as she started to put away her supplies. “They—” She stopped and stood up to be closer to his height. “Wait, how did you catch the fish oil?”

Garreth blinked. “I…could smell it?”

“I know that,” she impatiently replied. “But the key is to have a minimal amount. People are already put off by the strong smells of olive oil and apple cider vinegar. They hardly catch a hint of fish oil.”

He grinned with complete confidence. “Potions prodigy, remember? You’re talking to someone that’s experimented with all kinds of ingredients and essences. Some even blew up right in my face.” He tapped his nose. “I’d like to pride myself about being able to identify most ingredients in potions and food. Though the latter is far easier.” He started to gesture a little with his hands and Imelda couldn’t help but be enthralled, “Potions can dilute ingredients, or make them dissolve, so you don’t know which components are used until they’re consumed. But some ingredients can never make a certain color while brewing, or some can’t even make it boil, or even cause the steam to billow out differently. Then there’s the—”

He paused and he sheepishly chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “Er, sorry. I went on a little tangent there.”

Imelda blinked, registering everything he said. How did she get lost in what he was saying? Not that he sounded boring, nor the topic, but she was just…captivated by how knowledgeable he sounded. She also liked how clearly passionate he sounded. Did she notice a subtle shine in his eyes as he spoke too?

“You’re fine,” she said. She bent down to pick up her supplies and shouldered her broom. “I didn’t mind it.”

“Really?” He said, utterly dumbfounded. He chuckled again. “Natty and Leander and others’s eyes often glaze over when I talk about potions.”

“Well, I’m not them,” she blurted out.

He considered her for a moment before smiling with fondness. “No, you’re not.” He nudged her with an elbow. “I hope you know you just invited me to talk about all the potions now.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll take my chances.”

He laughed, and she felt her heart react to it. Great, just what she needed. “We’ll leave shortly before curfew, though?”

She nodded, grateful for the subject change. “Yes. I’ll be right outside the North Exit.”

“Got it,” he solemnly replied. “I’ll see you then. With a new outfit.”

“Don’t worry. I found one,” she said, her tongue having a mind of its own. “I, er, it’s too big for me, but it probably fits you.”

Garreth looked surprised, but he went along with it with another shrug. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it. See you later tonight, then!” Then he jogged out of the pitch, leaving as swiftly as he came.

“It’s a date,” she muttered, now fearing with a skipping heartbeat that her feelings were wanting that phrase to be more true than it needed to be.

~~~

Imelda had her back and a foot against the brick wall as she watched the forest ahead. The sun was already down for at least an hour when she came out in her Crimson Mystic Ensemble. She had to admit that it felt nice, and it felt more like an armor for herself than her Quidditch or school uniforms.

She fiddled with the arm guards, merely hoping they wouldn’t come across any trouble. They were just walking through the Forbidden Forest. At night. She knew spiders were a problem in the past, but she didn’t know how many camps were there now with Ranrok, Harlow, and Rookwood.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. She stared up at the full moon shining brightly in the ink-black sky full of clusters of stars. All they had to do was pick a Fluxweed. Then they would hightail out of there and sneak back into the castle. This shouldn’t be as hard when she had to do little things to find Richard Jackdaw.

…She wondered how that ghost was doing, actually.

“Imelda?”

She jumped and flailed her arms before seeing Garreth lean back, surprised by her reaction. She sighed heavily and felt her heart pound in her ears. “Stop doing that,” she exasperatedly said.

“You were the one lost in thought,” he pointed out with a hint of amusement. “I called your name a couple times, and you were just staring up at the sky.” He looked up there and smiled. “Though it’s a pretty night.”

I will not be a moonmind and stargaze with my friend, she forcibly thought to herself. They needed to get to business, not waste time sightseeing or letting her feelings betray her.

She reached into her magically-charmed pocket and pulled out the dark outfit. She tossed it to Garreth, and he caught it as if she tossed him a Quaffle.

“As promised, there’s the outfit.” She tossed him the pair of boots next. “And the boots.” She lifted an eyebrow at his attire. He at least had the foresight to wear a simple jumper and trousers out here. “I think that’s actual armor, so it should protect you better than what you have on now.”

“Noted,” he replied. He looked around before he set down the armor and boots. “Do you mind turning around?”

Imelda blinked. “You’re just going to change right here?”

“No one else is out here,” he reasoned. He looked amused again, as if he enjoyed seeing her flustered. Maybe he did, and that made her blush a little more. “I was planning on Disillusioning myself in the process too.”

She relaxed. That made more sense. “Okay.” She turned on her heel and crossed her arms, keeping her back to him and giving him privacy. “Just hurry.”

“Just because you said that, I’m going to take my sweet time,” he dryly said.

She was about to open her mouth to retaliate, but she heard him faintly chuckle. He was just messing with her. She sighed and ran a hand down her face. …She would not acknowledge that she felt a smile on her lips.

A minute or two passed, and she heard plenty of fabric and clothes moving behind her. Despite her curiosity making her want to look to see what was happening, she managed to stay firm and keep still.

“Okay, I’m done. Do you have a place for my stuff?”

Imelda turned back around and felt blindsided. She didn’t come close to expecting what was right before her. Garreth was wearing a black tunic with dark purple leather strapped onto the top half of his torso, with golden buckles and golden lining in different spots. His trousers were also black and neatly tucked into dark brown leather boots. There was even a leather holster for his wand, which he put in his English Oak wand with a teal and brown column wand handle. In the end, she didn’t know if they fit perfectly on him and the clothes just naturally hugged the wearer’s figure, or if they were for someone slightly smaller than him.

Garreth looked at her expectantly, and she realized with a blush that he was holding his bundle of clothes he changed out of.

She coughed into her fist before focusing on taking his clothes and stuffing them into her pocket. “Right, er, let’s get that Fluxweed.”

“You’re the boss,” he casually replied.

She nodded. She led the way, starting to jog down the trail to where the entrance to the Forbidden Forest was. He followed her pace, the two of them making good distance.

“Er…how’s the armor?”

“It fits pretty well,” he brightly answered. “It’s very nice, and I like it. I might keep it.”

“You’re welcome to; I can’t fit it.”

He directed a smile at her. “Thanks, Imelda.”

Imelda felt under attack from his smile while he was wearing that armor with the delighted shine in his sea green eyes all under the moonlight.

“You’re welcome,” she choked out before looking straight ahead to save her palpitating heart.

They let silence settle between them as they kept jogging right through the stone arch. They were now officially in the Forbidden Forest.

Imelda was thankful she still had endurance and wasn’t out of shape in that way. She might not have much strength to pull herself up, but she can last longer than most in running and the like. She was a little impressed Garreth wasn’t breathing hard either, but she reminded herself that he did play as a Quidditch Chaser too in the past.

They came to a fork in the road Imelda remembered from two years ago. The spot where Jackdaw stopped and told her she had to go on alone. However—

She gasped and came to a screeching halt, feeling all warmth leave her face. To the left, the path was full of large and long stretches of web, going from the tree branches down to the ground. Imelda felt petrified as she could have sworn she heard the clicking of mandibles. That path wasn’t infested with spiders two years ago… How did this happen? What else changed?

She flinched at feeling an arm around her, but then she relaxed at smelling that mint scent again. She saw over her shoulder Garreth watching their left with a hardened expression.

“Do we need to go that way?” He quietly asked.

“No,” she whispered in a wavering tone, freely portraying how scared she was.

“Okay.” He moved her over, and he stepped to be on her left, closer to the spider webs. He met her eyes with solemn sympathy in his. “Just keep going, alright? Remember, I’m here.”

Imelda breathed shakily, hanging onto his words like they were keeping her grounded. Garreth was here. He would keep her safe, just like the other times before. She slowly nodded, and she looked ahead at the path on the right.

“This way,” she said after swallowing.

They went back to jogging, and Imelda was just eager to be as far away from any blasted spiders as she could. The only solace she had was that unlike the last time she truly traveled like this instead of just flying above, she wasn’t alone. Garreth was beside her and she knew he would look out for her. Her ancient magic thrummed in her veins; she would also look for him in return.

They passed under an arch made of a large tree’s root and the trail started to go uphill and winding around out of their sight. Imelda slowed down and looked to her left. There was a small waterfall falling into a pond, and Imelda was relieved that this didn’t change.

“This is the waterfall, we’re getting close—” She noticed Garreth wasn’t by her side. She panicked and whirled around before frowning and putting her hands on her hips. “Are you serious?”

Garreth looked up from picking leaping toadstools close by. “They’re just sitting here!”

“We’re supposed to only get fluxweed!”

“We’re still going to get it, but I’m…” he held up the toadstools with a grin, “…going to make the most out of this endeavor.”

Imelda was torn between being annoyed and being amused. So she just sighed. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

Garreth hummed and kept the toadstools in his arms as he walked with her up the hill, following the trail. They got to the top of the little hill, and Imelda felt her shoulders slump with peace settling deep within. A smile easily formed on her face as she saw the familiar lake with the numerous fireflies floating around.

“Whoa,” Garreth breathed out while they walked down the slope.

Imelda smiled more at hearing how awestruck Garreth was. “This is the place,” she announced with a small wave to the lake.

He chuckled, gobsmacked. “I gotta say, Imelda. You have good taste.” His eyebrows shot up as he looked across the body of water. “Is that a stag?” He asked in a hushed tone.

She searched the area and then nodded as they saw the regal creature lower its head to lap up water with its enormous crown of antlers glinting in the moonlight.

“I was lucky to see a whole herd of them over there one time,” she said, her smile still there as she looked at Garreth. His entire face was lit up with wonder, and the two shared smiles from enjoying this serenity. Why was she ever nervous about showing this place to Garreth? He seemed to like it here. And if he appreciated it, he would surely be that more determined to keep it between them.

Imelda faintly remembered why they were here in the first place. She blinked and stepped back with a blush resurfacing. She cleared her throat. “Er, my garden is right over here,” she awkwardly said as she walked around a tree to be closer to the entrance. She warily eyed the swirled stone wall. Lot of memories and mental scars just on the other side of that, and she was intent on not going back there.

She went over to her plot of tilled soil. She felt pride flourish as she saw how amazed Garreth was at seeing her garden of several plants. She kindly took the toadstools out of his arms as he perused her small selection of Fluxweed.

“You’re full of surprises, Imelda, and I mean that as a compliment,” he says, giving her another smile before crouching and inspecting the Fluxweed.

Imelda put the toadstools also into her pocket, feeling her heart beat faster from his praise. “The things I could tell you,” she slyly remarked.

“And I would be all ears,” he playfully replied. He finally picked a Fluxweed, and carefully lifted it up from the soil in one easy motion. Imelda swallowed hard as she noticed his upper arm become more…prominent as he did so.

She pushed those thoughts away before they grew to anything more as Garreth walked up to her. He gave the Fluxweed to her, and she easily stored it away along with the other things.

They started to go back the same way they came, not wanting to stay out longer than they needed to.

“So now, we can move on to the rest of the brewing process,” he eagerly said while rubbing his hands. “The first part of Polyjuice is always painstaking with tediously stewing lacewing flies, but the rest from here on out is smooth sailing.”

“And your brewing place is still safe from unwanted company?” She asked to make sure.

He chuckled. “If you want, I could show you where.”

Imelda perked up, and she looked at him, completely distracted as they passed the dreadful fork in the road. “Truly?” He was willing to show her his own secret place.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ll probably have to eventually when the potion is all done and you need to use it.” He tilted his head at her, more of his hair falling to his right. “Speaking of…what is it you intend to do with Polyjuice?”

Imelda didn’t want to keep leading him on, but it really didn’t seem like the right time to tell him practically everything when they were about to try to sneak back into Hogwarts. She didn’t think it was a matter that could easily be discussed in such a short time.

“I will explain it to you when the Polyjuice is nearly ready,” she promised when they walked back under the stone arch at the entrance of the Forbidden Forest.

Garreth searched her expression before nodding. “Alright,” he said. “Until then…” He started to jog back to the castle, and Imelda easily caught up to run beside him. “All we have to do is get back in our common rooms, and then I can get started as soon as classes are done tomorrow.” He gave her a quick grin. “Then maybe I’ll see about showing my secret lab.”

“Something tells me it’s not as elaborate a hideout as you deem it.”

He guffawed into the open air. “Imelda, was that you actually teasing me and not a dry remark?”

She didn’t stop the smile on her face, nor did she try to ignore the nice warmth developing in her gut and heart. “You said it yourself: I’m full of surprises.”

“Indeed you are,” he agreed with fondness.

She was willing to blame the cold night for her apparent blush in the pale moonlight.

In a few minutes, the two were back on the premises of Hogwarts. They easily casted Disillusionment on themselves, and started slinking through the Bell Tower. As long as they were quiet and careful, no ghost or prefect or Peeves could spot them. Imelda stayed close to Garreth for the sake of not losing him when they were both Disillusioned. She might have caught more of that mint scent because of how close she was, but Garreth encouraged her to be in close proximity when he lightly held her wrist to have her follow him.

It wasn’t long before they easily made it through the North Hall, the Transfiguration Courtyard, the DADA Tower, and even the Suspension Bridge. Imelda was elated this was going well as they carefully trod up a few stairs of the Ravenclaw Tower to get to the Grand Staircase Tower. They were almost where they had to split up to get to their common rooms, and then they were golden.

Almost as if her thoughts jinxed them, they saw a prefect up ahead, right where they needed to go.

Imelda hissed out a Spanish curse, but then her heart leapt when the prefect sharply turned in their direction. Garreth’s hand fumbled before finding her mouth, and she made an affronted noise that was thankfully muffled by his palm. He pulled her into a nearby broom closet and carefully closed the door.

He whispered the Sticking Charm on the door before dropping the Disillusionment Charm so she could see his incredulous expression.

“Are you trying to give us away?” He admonished in a hushed tone.

“It just came out, I’m sorry,” she snapped back in a whisper, dropping her own charm.

Garreth sighed. “Prefects probably know the countercurse of my little door trick,” he muttered. He moved to press his ear against the door. Imelda’s face burned as she realized how close he was to her. Her breathing was staggering as she tried to not have her chest bump into his. The smell of mint was stronger now than anytime earlier today. It made her want to melt, but the adrenaline of the situation made her freeze up instead.

“Maybe they’ll just go away,” she hurriedly said.

Garreth hummed thoughtfully, and then she moved to hear carefully as well. She was trying to not think about this closet being so cramped her face was practically pressed into his leather-clad chest.

This was not helping matters for her rapid heartbeat or her feelings that seemed to have grown exponentially in the moment.

Her heart stopped beating as they both heard the prefect call out, “Revelio.”

“Son of a troll’s gnome,” Garreth muttered. “They’re going to find us soon enough.”

Imelda didn’t know if it was just her imagination, but she thought she heard footsteps echoing on the tiled floor, and they were getting louder. She desperately tried to think of anything to explain why they were out here, after curfew, in a broom closet. She certainly couldn’t say “oh, we snuck out to pick some Fluxweed and it had to be tonight because it’s a full moon, and that’s the bloody requirement for Polyjuice, please don’t report this to my family”.

An idea came to her, and it was probably stupid, but she was desperate for any reasonable explanation about this situation they found themselves in.

She looked up at Garreth and said, “kiss me.”

He stared at her for a long few seconds, and the tense silence was agonizing. “…what?”

Imelda didn’t know how much time they had, so she quickly explained in a low voice, “The only believable reason for why we’re in here is because we’re two teenagers in love and are trying to sneak in a snog.”

“Yes, and our leather get-ups really sell that, right?” He dryly asked, still whispering.

Imelda glared at him, her face burning even more. “Do you have a better idea?” She challenged.

Garreth looked away, and Imelda’s heart thudded when she was certain the prefect casted Revelio again.

“Well?” She demanded.

He glared at her. “It’s hard to think right now when we’re in this bloody closet! Are you mental?”

His hesitancy to kiss her started to bother her. Was she that undesirable? Did he really not even consider her in that light?

The footsteps were getting closer…

She gritted her teeth and glared at him. She shot back, “You are so infuriating!”

His eyes darkened with indignation. “I’m infuriating? You’re the one asking me to-” He hurriedly hissed.

“Just shut up and kiss me!”

“Fine!”

He grabbed her face and leaned down, crashing his lips against hers. Imelda had a quick feeling of lightning strike down her back from the shock of actually being kissed. Then she registered his hot lips and warm breath, and she melted from her rigid stance, closing her eyes and kissing back. Any anger he had or any impatience she felt was gone as they both got lost in the kiss. A thrill more gratifying than any Quidditch game she played ran through every fiber of her being.

She held his shoulder with one hand, clutching onto the hard leather while she buried her other hand into his soft, wavy hair. She shivered when she felt more than heard Garreth hum against her lips. He hungrily deepened the kiss, causing a strong warmth pool in her core, making her hot as fire. She wasn’t one to back down, though, and she tightened her grip on him, making her short fingernails lightly scratch his scalp. She was rewarded with a low, reverberating moan, and she desperately swallowed the sound as she kissed him harder.

Garreth decided to go further as he stepped closer to her. Almost like they were doing a dance, she stepped back, and she found herself pressed against the wall. The action elicited a gasp from her, and then she breathed out a sigh when he slid a hand back into her hair, his long fingers sifting right under her hair tie. She felt him smirk against her lips, obviously enjoying her reactions, but she didn’t care. It was unbelievably hot here, but it wasn’t stifling. She felt like she wanted more, and Garreth was the key to it. She could feel that there was hardly any space between them with his knees knocking into hers, and his chest was pressed against hers, further making her rely on the wall to keep her standing.

Imelda followed her desirous instinct by flicking her tongue against his lips. That was apparently the right move as Garreth completely melted and moved impossibly closer to her with another wonderful moan drawn from his lips. He opened his mouth, and she didn’t hesitate to slip her tongue in and explore it. She started to shake and make other little noises as he started to do the same to her while cradling the back of her head.

She reached up and buried both of her hands into his hair, even tugging on it to get a reaction out of him. It worked as he hummed with a slight growl in the back of his throat and she…thought she felt something else press into her thigh. All of this was just adding more fuel to the fire deep within. It felt unquenchable, and Imelda was hoping it would stay that way.

“Great golden gobstones!”

The fire within Imelda got quenched a bit as Garreth clearly didn’t say that, and the two of them instantly froze when a harsh light fell upon them. Garreth hastily pulled away while she was still holding onto him to stay standing. She slowly moved her hands out of Garreth’s now-mussed hair to clutch onto his shoulders, breathing hard with her mind completely blank. She naturally leaned closer to him when she felt his hands move to her back. She thought his touch was burning through the fabric of her outfit.

Past the bright light was Samantha Dale, holding her Lumos-lit wand and looking at them with utter abhorrence.

Oh. Right. Imelda completely forgot this was her plan of snogging to give a good excuse to the perfect. Annoyance swirled in her pounding heart, wishing that they weren’t interrupted…

Garreth cleared his throat. “Hey, Samantha,” he said in a hoarse voice. He sheepishly grinned as the wand light showed how bright red his face was. “H-how are you?”

Samantha couldn’t stop gawking, looking back and forth between Garreth and Imelda, her brown eyes widened with shock and disgust. “I…I…”

Imelda could only imagine how they looked. She glanced at Garreth, seeing his hair was still completely tousled, and his chest was rising and falling from him regaining his breath. She started to swell with pride at seeing his lips were a little bruised. She wondered if she looked like an utter mess too.

Imelda couldn’t help but wet her lips, feeling a slight tingle from doing so, and Samantha tamped down a shriek as she stepped back. The Ravenclaw clapped a hand over her eyes.

“I-I am not seeing this right now! J-just go, and I want to forget I ever saw you two shagging!”

The incorrect accusation made defiance flare in Imelda. She moved off of Garreth and stepped out of the broom closet, albeit in staggering steps. “Hey, we were not shagging! We were—”

Samantha yelled over Imelda, wildly gesturing with her wand. “I don’t want to hear it! Just go!”

She felt Garreth’s hold on her arm. If her face wasn’t already hot, it would have warmed from just the thrill he gave her from his touch.

Imelda reluctantly went with him to the Grand Staircase Tower, her legs finally working properly again. Her mind was still in a daze, but she numbly remembered they were supposed to keep sneaking. So she put the Disillusionment Charm on herself again, and she saw Garreth do the same.

At the level of stairs where she had to go down and he had to go into the Faculty Tower, Imelda blurted out quickly in one breath: “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow and give you back your stuff when we’re not Disillusioned, good night.”

“Wait, Imelda—”

Imelda didn’t stick around, dashing down the stairs to get to the dungeons and the Slytherin entrance. Her mind was still whirling from what happened, and her heart still hadn’t calmed down from the excitement.

She quickly whispered the password and went in as soon as possible. She didn’t drop her disillusionment until she was back in her dorm. She felt like she could relax and breathe now that she was here. Imelda checked her dormmates and saw both of their beds had their curtains pulled all around.

She was still breathing a little hard as she quietly went to her trunk and changed out of her outfit into her sleeping gown. Only after she changed did she realize how much the smell of mint stayed on her outfit. She blushed hard again as she thought back to that snog, and she brushed her fingertips along her lips.

That was her first kiss…

She sighed and pulled out her hair tie, feeling her hair come down loose, but she thought the area Garreth had his fingers was a little tangled. She somewhat fixed it as she went to her bed and pulled the curtains closed.

She settled in for the night, and it took forever for her to fall asleep because she couldn’t stop thinking about the Gryffindor she was supposed to bury her feelings about. The Gryffindor she had dreams about before that apparently weren’t even close to the real thing she just experienced.

So much for trying to see Garreth as just a friend…

Chapter Text

“You what?” Anne exclaimed with her mouth agape.

Imelda kept pacing, her mind still whirling about the events in the past twenty-four hours. She managed to meet up with Garreth before breakfast, in an alcove by the Great Hall. She shoved all of his belongings—his clothes, Leaping Toadstools, and the Fluxweed—into his arms before she hurriedly left. She did hear Garreth call after her, but a strong fear drove her to keep walking away. She just understood her inane feelings, and she ruined a possible normal friendship because of it, and she couldn’t bear to deal with the rejection from Garreth just yet.

She felt trapped with this fear of hers, and she knew it was better to tell someone. Which led to Imelda visiting Anne shortly after classes. Anne was surprised, to say the least, to see Imelda at her door with her face and uniform streaked with Floo ash.

Imelda would rather die than confide in Ominis and Sebastian about this as she knew they would relentlessly tease her and never let her live it down. Anne was the next person that she was close to in the past four years at Hogwarts. Not only that, but she was certain Anne would keep this between them and away from even her brother.

So, Imelda told Anne what happened, and here she was, still uncertain about it all. She went over to the table Anne was sitting at, leaning her hands onto the surface. Her face burned as she focused on the wood grains of the table.

“I…snogged Garreth,” she repeated, her voice still tight from embarrassment and a dozen other emotions mixed in her voice.

Anne was quiet, which told Imelda that she was thinking hard; that was the only time Anne wasn’t loud when they were growing up.

“Was it good?”

Imelda inhaled so sharply that she choked on her saliva. She harshly coughed and turned to her with a half-hearted glare. “Anne!”

“What? It’s a pretty important question!” Anne grinned and rested her chin on her palm. “So, was it?”

Imelda didn’t think her face could feel even more on fire than it did at this moment. She stiffly sat down across from Anne and drummed her fingers, hearing her nails clack on the table. Memories resurfaced, pulling her back to reminisce with a thudding heartbeat. His burning touch, his intoxicating mint cologne, his addicting lips, his strong hold… All of it compiled into a wondrous burning sensation that still simmered in her heart and core. As if she wanted more, like a selfish person.

She swallowed. “I think it was,” she faintly answered.

“You can’t think it was. It was either good or bad.”

“I don’t know!” She felt defensive and she huffed as she looked away, idly rubbing her finger along her lips. Merlin, she could have sworn Garreth left some sort of impression on them; she believed she could still feel his lips against hers. “I…had never been kissed before.”

Anne snorted, and Imelda glared at her again. Anne merely had a twinkle in her eye as if she knew the answers. “It’s simple to know. All you have to do is answer this question: If you could, would you want to kiss or snog him again?”

Imelda frowned at the incredibly unlikely chance of that ever happening. She didn’t think Garreth would kiss her if they weren’t in the situation they were in. That inkling made her heart frustratingly ache, but she sighed at seeing Anne’s gaze. She was still expecting an answer.

“I suppose…if that were ever possible…” Imelda drawled. “I would.”

“So it was good, then!” Anne grinned. “Do you have feelings for him?”

Imelda scoffed, but her blush was giving her away. “It’s complicated.”

“Right, and Sebastian isn’t already hearing wedding bells,” Anne dryly remarked. At Imelda’s stupefied expression, Anne merely added, “My brother tells me almost everything involving him. And the whole Hogsmeade trip and meeting a Muggle girl were certainly things he couldn’t wait to tell me about.”

She sighed. She should have known. “But you won’t tell anyone about—?”

“Of course not!” Anne sat up, looking quite honored. “You came to me in confidence, and I won’t ever betray that trust.”

Her shoulders lowered, feeling marginally better about it. “Thank you.”

Anne nodded to her, and then that mischievous grin came back. “But it’s not that complicated. If you fancy him, and you liked kissing him, why not do something about it?”

Imelda tapped a finger onto the table, wishing her guts weren’t writhing with fear and worry. “Have you…ever done anything like that with a friend before?”

Anne chuckled. “I did, actually. Near the end of our third year.” She bit her lip with a fond shine in her eyes. “He was…a sweet boy, and he certainly took me by surprise at how good that snog was.” She started to smile dreamily, utterly infatuated. “It was just the one time, but it’s unforgettable.”

Imelda grimaced at Anne’s lovey-dovey expression. She seemed to really like whomever this boy was, and Imelda just hoped she never looked like that with Isaac. Or…rather…with Garreth. But, despite how Imelda felt about seeing Anne act this way, Imelda noticed that she could hardly see any dark circles or exhaustion dulling her eyes. She looked as if she were never cursed, a vast difference from when Imelda visited her a while ago.

To keep Anne in such a good mood, she curiously asked, “Who was he?”

Anne blinked, coming out of her reverie, and then she smiled as sly as a fox. “Come on, Imelda. We’re Slytherins. Of course I’m not going to tell you.”

“You just said I confided in you—”

“Yes, so we should be talking about you,” she pointed out. She interlocked her hands as if she were discussing business. “Stop evading the question like it’s a Bludger. Why not just pursue these feelings?”

Imelda looked away. How could she explain? She remembered when Anne gave her reproachful looks after the first year. No doubt because Nerida told her what happened between them. Anne always had Sebastian and Ominis; she loved them like family and they were inseparable. They were notorious for causing mischief, but that’s it.

Then there was her, the one dubbed “Ice Queen”. Uptight, bossy, ear-pinching, and…friendless. Imelda swallowed thickly, feeling a burning sensation in the back of her throat. “I’m…not used to having friends, Anne,” she admitted. “Then, this year happens, and I’m thrown into so many friendships and being closer to people, including Sebastian and Ominis and you.” She breathed shakily as if her lungs were constricted. She huffed, feeling mad at herself for feeling this way. For feeling a lot of ways, actually. “A-and before these infernal feelings came, I didn’t mind Garreth’s company. But now, they’re ruining everything.”

She chanced a look at Anne, and the Sallow girl’s gaze simply held sympathy. “Maybe they aren’t ruining anything, Imelda,” she gently said. “How can you be so pessimistic about what your heart wants when you’ve barely tried?”

Imelda sardonically laughed. “Come on, Anne.” The twin girl frowned in response. “I’m me. How could anyone like me?” Her jaw clenched. Not even her shallow crush was returned. Why would it, though? She only mainly fancied Isaac because of their shared interest and passion for Quidditch. Her mouth tasted bitter as she swallowed back more remarks that would only put herself further down.

“Imelda…” Anne paused. “I don’t know your middle name, but!” She firmly pointed at Imelda. “Imelda Reyes, you are still quite a catch. You’re headstrong, athletic, and passionate. And now you’re becoming more compassionate and you’re opening up to people. Those are great qualities, and I assure you that a few of our peers fancied you.”

Her self-deprecating thoughts made her internally say, Probably not Garreth, though. Why would he? He was intelligent, fun, sweet, caring, confident, and passionate. She would argue that aside from him being a good person, he was too good for her. The back of her mind wanted to add that she was a Slytherin and he was a Gryffindor, but she stopped caring about house rivalry when she had bigger issues like Keeper trials and statues and spiders wanting her dead.

“Maybe I’m a coward, then,” Imelda said in a despondent tone. She met Anne’s gaze, feeling numb from seeing her friend look disappointed. “I don’t want to burn bridges with Garreth.”

She liked having him as a friend. He made her feel safe. She didn’t want her selfish feelings ruining what they had. Even if they might have already. Maybe she could apologize to him. Just anything to not lose him, not when she trusted him with so much and wanted to trust him with even more.

Anne sighed. “Imelda—”

The door opened, and Solomon came in. He looked at the two at the table as he closed the door behind him. “I didn’t know you had company over, Anne,” he said in a quiet, gruff tone.

Anne shrugged, unbothered. “I didn’t either. Imelda just came on a whim.”

He made a noise as he walked over to the section blocked by curtains. “Are you staying for supper?”

Imelda felt a tinge of annoyance that he wasn’t fully addressing her, having his back to her. She also didn’t like the less-than-friendly tone, but maybe he didn’t like it when she talked back to him.

“No,” she answered. “I was planning on leaving shortly, actually.”

“Very well.” Solomon went to the potion kit that was beside presumably Anne’s bed. “I bought more ingredients from Bernard,” he said to Anne with a nicer tone. “I can see about making more of that potion that lessens your pain.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Anne replied with a smile. Before she grimaced and winced, moving her hand to stay on her abdomen.

Worry panged Imelda’s heart as she saw the action. “You alright?” She asked, leaning forward to keep her voice low.

Anne gave her a weak smile, and it made Imelda’s stomach churn as she noticed that exhaustion instantly came back. She looked so weary in the blink of an eye… “It comes in bouts,” she reasoned, sounding like she was used to it so many times already.

Imelda closed her hand into a fist, understanding Sebastian’s desperation even more. She didn’t like seeing Anne go back and forth being between fine and then suddenly not. She couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to see your sister go through that multiple times.

She straightened at hearing small sounds. She saw Solomon’s back was hunched from working on the potion. A moment passed, and then he leaned back, and— Imelda blinked with surprise at seeing a small yellow firework burst over the kit. Her eyebrows furrowed. Was that normal for potion brewing? She only saw fireworks a couple times when Garreth experimented and it failed. Was that normal?

She glanced at Anne, who seemed unbothered about the firework show. Something didn’t feel right to Imelda, though…

“I should get going,” Imelda said, getting up from the chair.

Anne stood up and pulled Imelda into a hug. Imelda’s eyes widened, but she slowly wrapped her arms around her too. “Thank you for coming, Imelda. You’re welcome anytime!”

“Of course,” she replied.

“And don’t forget what I said,” Anne added when they stepped back and she gave Imelda a pointed look.

Imelda blushed and patted Anne’s shoulder. “Right,” she muttered before leaving.

Anne chuckled and said while waving, “See you!”

As she left, Imelda considered what Anne insisted. After she thought about more than Quidditch and the Keepers’ trials, she was retrospectively thinking how she had been. It wasn’t a pretty picture. Sure, she’d been different this year, but wasn’t the damage already done?

She fished the orange handkerchief out of her robe pocket. She knew it was losing its mint scent, and maybe that was a sign for her to give it back to its rightful owner.

Maybe if she did, she could keep her feelings under control and repair the damage she made with that wonderful but dangerous snog they had.

~~~

Garreth leaned his gloved fist against his freckled cheek as his mind drifted. It wasn’t the first time that’s happened, but he wasn’t thinking about potions or innovations for once. He kept thinking about that kiss. Well, multiple kisses—a snog. It was…brilliant.

He had never truly kissed anyone before, and this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. His blood ran hot and his heart was beating so fast that he thought it would just go out from over-excitement. He was full of feeling gratified but also unsatisfied as if he needed more from Imelda. More of what, he wasn’t sure, but he was craving it. So he kept kissing her and enjoying the feeling of her lips on his, her hands clutching onto him and his hair, her strong and enticing scent of roses, and hearing those sounds.

He at first didn’t want to kiss her because they were friends. Friends didn’t kiss; he didn’t kiss Natty or Nellie or Cressida, and certainly not Leander either. The most affection he gave them were hugs, ruffled hair, or pats on the back and playful nudges.

Did he think she was attractive? Of course, he always thought she was pretty. Had he ever thought of kissing her? …Not really, but now he was. He was certain he could still feel her fingers buried in his hair or her lips against his, making him want to have those blissful sensations again.

“It’s your turn.”

Garreth blinked and looked up to see an unimpressed Andrew sitting across from him. The Ravenclaw had his finger against his cheek in thought while the rest of his fingers were rolled into a fist. He lifted a blond eyebrow at his friend, and Garreth lowered his gaze. Right, they were playing chess.

He cleared his throat and sat up. He stared hard at the chessboard full of wooden pieces, Andrew’s own nonmagical set. He lifted the knight and moved it closer to Andrew’s side.

“…You’re not at your best today,” Andrew muttered. He deftly used his bishop to take the knight.

Garreth sighed heavily. “Yeah, you’re about to win in three moves.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t get enough sleep.”

Andrew eyed him, and Garreth could hear the gears turning in his head. Garreth had been friends with Andrew since third year, and he knew hardly anything went past him.

“You might have that appearance, but your eyes weren’t glazed over from fatigue. You were deep in thinking about something. Not to mention, exhaustion doesn’t make your cheeks grow hot.” Garreth averted his gaze, knowing he was right as he processed the blush in his face.

Andrew interlocked his hands and rested them on the table. He regarded Garreth with a serious but concerned expression. “What happened?”

Garreth hesitated. How could he say this? He looked around them in the Quad Courtyard. They were playing close to the Ravenclaw tower. Leander was lying on a stone bench nearby, reading a Transfiguration book, waiting for his turn to play Garreth. The weather was nice, but they still created a warming charm around them and had their scarves and gloves on.

He took a deep breath, aiming to just take the bandage off. “Imelda and I snogged.”

Thump

He looked back at his best mate to see Leander had dropped the book onto his face from shock. Leander scrambled to sit up, getting the book off of himself to gawk at Garreth.

Andrew merely looked back at the chessboard and started to put the pieces back in their places. “Ah, and I presume Samantha found you and Imelda?”

Garreth turned to him with furrowed eyebrows. “Yes…How did—?”

“She looked sickly pale at breakfast, and I noticed her glancing at you and Imelda with a disturbed look on her flushed face.” Andrew shrugged. “I wondered why, but now I know.”

Leander gaped at the Ravenclaw. “H-how are you so casual about this? Garreth snogged Imelda!”

“This is a warming charm, not a silencing one,” Andrew warned as Garreth winced at his friend’s volume.

Leander indignantly flushed and glared at Andrew before facing Garreth again. “This happened last night?”

“Yes, and no, I won’t go into details.” Garreth felt rather selfish in wanting to keep the details of last night to himself. He enjoyed it as something just between him and Imelda.

“Poor Samantha, from her reaction alone,” Andrew remarked.

Garreth frowned at him. “You’re not helping. Leander’s right. You’re too calm about this.”

“I was wondering when you two would kiss or snog. And I am quite frankly relieved you’ve finally done it,” Andrew reasoned..

Garreth’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

Leander groaned and went back to lying down on the bench. Andrew just stopped what he was doing, still holding a pawn in his hand.

“What do you mean ‘why’?” Andrew asked back.

“Why are you relieved?” Garreth impatiently elaborated. Leander acted like he was missing something, and it was bothering him.

Andrew stared at him for a moment before he slowly put the pawn down. “You don’t see it, do you?”

“Apparently not, so enlighten me.”

The Ravenclaw leaned his forearm onto the table as he solemnly asked, “Do you really see Imelda as a friend?”

Garreth opened his mouth, about to say, “of course”, but the words never came out. His mind—or maybe even his heart—didn’t think that word fit for Imelda anymore.

“You claim you’ve been wanting to be her friend since first year,” Leander drawled from his spot. He turned his head to look at Garreth with a similar expression as Andrew. “Why have you been so adamant all this time?”

“B-because it’s her,” Garreth answered kind of helplessly. He didn’t know how else to explain. “She always intrigued me, and…”

“You’ve never tried as hard to be ‘friends’ with anyone else but her,” Leander pointed out as he sat up.

“Well, she wasn’t easy to befriend,” Garreth said back.

His eyebrows furrowed. Did he just see her as a project, then? He saw she wasn’t like everyone else that became his friend after just one interaction? He instantly disagreed with that; he saw her in that first class together and wanted to be friends with her. They just had a rocky first meeting because of a misunderstanding of seating arrangements.

“And you being upset about Isaac?” Andrew asked with a lifted eyebrow. “Over the years, it was obvious you were bothered by him being around Imelda. Even this year, when Flying Class was done, you looked vexed.”

“You shoved me after I added to Andrew’s observation and claimed that there’s no way you’re jealous over a friend,” Leander chimed in.

Garreth frowned at the two. He was not liking being bombarded by both of them about something that was making his head spin. “What, are you saying I’ve fancied Imelda for a while, and I haven’t realized it until now?” He angrily asked.

Leander didn’t say anything, only looking at Andrew. Garreth stared expectantly at Andrew, who was puzzling out how to answer.

“We shouldn’t spell it out for you. You need to figure out how you truly feel about her,” he said in a neutral tone.

Garreth sighed into his hands, feeling the cotton fabric of his gloves against his face. “Why does this have to be so complicated?”

“You’d think after snogging her, it would be simple,” Leander remarked, and Garreth heard him move up from the bench.

Garreth lowered his hands and gave Leander a hard stare. “If I had feelings for Imelda, it wouldn’t be solely physical attraction where I would just want to snog her,” he firmly replied.

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t think Leander meant that, but more of the fact that such a circumstance might help you see things in hindsight in a new light.”

Garreth felt like he was getting a headache from all of this. His mind was whirling about this new line of thinking, having never really thought about it before.

He stood up. “I’m going to clear my head,” he muttered.

“Take all the time you need,” Andrew sympathetically said as he went back to putting away his chess pieces.

“Don’t forget the Transfiguration homework,” Leander reminded while holding up the book.

Garreth just waved to convey he knew but didn’t want to think about homework right now. He wasn’t sure he would be able to concentrate like he couldn’t during classes for the day.

He took a long walk to his spot at the Viaduct Courtyard, wondering if Andrew and Leander’s words rang true.

He thought back to the first day he met Imelda in class. He was eager to make friends, having already gotten close with Leander and Eric and even Nellie and Cressida. He wanted to branch out, though, wanting to make friends with those outside the Gryffindor house.

That Potions class, he put his school bag onto the floor next to his stool to temporarily talk to Eric and Leander about sitting away from them to make more friends. When he came back and saw a Slytherin girl in his spot, his first thought was “she’s pretty”, and he felt compelled to talk to her aside from telling her she was in his spot. She was the first peer to act grumpy and defensive to him, and it made him more curious about why she acted like that.

He thought he could impress her when he figured out her first name after connecting with Sebastian Sallow over a game of Wizard’s Chess. They managed to have a conversation, and it ended rather well with her even apologizing to him. He thought more would come from it, but it didn’t.

There were passing conversations over the next couple years, and then…he had that accident during third year. When his potion exploded onto him and Imelda. He wasn’t going to lie: her death stare made his stomach churn. Then it was like they took a step back and she would avoid him and ignore him. Until he finally got to apologize to her, and they made up, but again, it didn’t really lead to anything.

He even—admittedly—flirted with her when he saw her staring at him donning the Gryffindor Quidditch uniform. “Like what you see?” was what he asked her, but he said that as a joke, something he would say to his other friends.

He ran a hand through his hair as he thought about when he saw Isaac Cooper with Imelda. His insides did twist and writhe at the sight as if he didn’t like seeing them together. Especially when he saw Imelda blushing and acting shy—her, Imelda Reyes, was shy—around him.

Garreth made it to his courtyard spot and leaned onto the stone balustrade as he thought more about those instances. He didn’t dislike Isaac; everyone knew he was the most popular student at Hogwarts for good reason. He was kind, sweet, fun, and of course was a star player in Quidditch. But seeing him give Imelda side hugs and ruffle her hair without any telling off from her, the way he smiled at her and Imelda smiled back… It always made his stomach feel like it was full of lead and he wished that he was one receiving those smiles—

Garreth inhaled sharply, tasting the crisp, cold air around him.

“I’m an idiot,” he whispered before leaning his head against his hand with his fingers going through his hair. How did he miss something so obvious? All this time, he thought he was seeing Imelda as a friend. But like Leander said, all of his behavior toward Imelda was more than how he would be with any of his other friends. He was never jealous when Nellie was talking to someone else. He didn’t feel upset when he noticed Natty and Andrew got along as friends.

His face started to burn as he even thought of the time in Hogsmeade just a couple days ago. He thought his heart acted strangely when he admonished her and held her against the wall. The way she stared at him…oddly excited him. He felt so warm, but he excused that for close proximity with another warm body.

Then when she was dressed in that crimson outfit, he thought she looked really nice. Stunning, he believed, was the word he thought of. He just couldn’t get over how great red looked on her, and he was now realizing that he never thought anything like that about anyone else. He never felt this attracted to anyone else.

His heart started to beat rapidly as he reflected more on his interactions with Imelda. He was used to her being blunt with him, but he was mildly surprised when she first reprimanded him constantly experimenting in fourth year. He assumed she was like his aunt or his parents. Then she advised him about truly honing in on his skills as an alchemist, to know the basics like the back of his hand—which he did later. She respected him in a way, a way that enthralled him. When she asked for his help on a potions essay, and they became study partners throughout the fourth year, he enjoyed those times. She heeded his words and they worked well together.

Then this past month, he and Imelda had more interactions, and she came to him with an unorthodox request. She never ceased to surprise and amaze him with her strange magic and abilities. He knew there was more to her than met the eyes, and he was drawn in to see it all for himself. He felt more protective of her after he found her rattled thanks to that Bulstrode, and he wanted to always be there for her. He wanted to hold and comfort her. He first thought that way as they were of course friends, but now…he knew how significant that level of trust from her was. He didn’t know if she trusted Sebastian and Ominis that much, and a part of him selfishly hoped not.

All of their playful banter, he did the same with his other friends, but again, he was realizing that it felt different. He enjoyed the fact she could dish it as much as she could take it. She could push him, but he would push back, and he appreciated that she could match wits with him.

Thinking back on when he caught her small smiles and the shine in her chocolate brown eyes filled him with a warmth similar to the Gryffindor common room fireplace. He liked seeing that side of her, where she wasn’t so guarded and trusted him enough to be more expressive and open. He wanted to constantly make her react like so, and he ran his hands down his face.

So now what? He was wrapping his mind around the fact he did fancy Imelda. And he did like kissing her. He really liked it, even though he knew it was to cover up the real reason why they were out past curfew.

He grimaced, wondering if Imelda did feel the same for him. A part of him wanted to think so, but…he knew the “Ice Queen” didn’t really have friends throughout the years. What if she was only acting this way because she saw him as a friend? Was this how she was with other friends like Sebastian and Ominis? He felt his insides writhe at the idea of Imelda being very chummy with those two. He didn’t think they fancied Imelda; he saw the obvious attraction between Sebastian and that Muggle girl Estelle. Same with Ominis about Poppy. But maybe they were close and she trusted and confided in them too.

Maybe her trust in him wasn’t that significant, then…

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Garreth straightened as his heart leapt when he turned toward the voice. With his discovery of his feelings blown up in his face like one of his failed experiments, he was now noticing the way his heart beated irregularly when he saw her.

Imelda slowly approached him, holding onto his handkerchief with both of her hands in a vice grip. He saw her knuckles were white, and he knew a long time ago she did this whenever she was nervous.

His usual bravery was starting to simmer away, so he tried to stay bold. “Imelda—”

“No, let me go first,” she quickly insisted. She stared up at him with so much open vulnerability and she swallowed. “Please.”

He lightly knocked his knuckles on the stone balustrade before nodding. He only wanted Imelda to feel as comfortable as she could be, even if he feared what she was going to say.

Imelda took a deep breath and spoke as if the faster she said it, the easier it would be let out. “I’m sorry for the predicament of last night. It won’t happen again—or hopefully it won’t—and I don’t want our friendship to be ruined from it. I hope we can move past it and continue on as we have before.” She breathed shakily and added, “I…like being friends with you, Garreth.”

Garreth stared at her, feeling turmoil churn his stomach. He might be new to romance now that he was grasping onto his true feelings for her, but he was certain he just got “friendzoned”. He wanted to refute and ask her about the snog they shared, if she felt anything from it, but he wondered if that would just make him sound like he only fancied her because she was a good kisser.

So he just plastered on a smile and replied with sincerity, “Of course I like being friends with you too, Imelda.” He scratched the back of his head. “And you don’t need to apologize about last night. We both just…” he chuckled, “got carried away.”

She nodded. She searched his expression. “So we’re fine?” She asked to make sure.

He smiled reassuringly, wishing he could pull her into a hug, but maybe that was too forward too soon. He only playfully nudged her shoulder with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” he replied.

Imelda’s shoulders slumped with relief, and he saw her cheeks were pink. Probably from the cold. He saw her hands were bare like before. Seriously, when would she learn to dress more warmly for the weather? He almost took his scarf off like he did before but…no, that would send a wrong message. One she probably didn’t want.

“Good,” she said. She blinked, and that vulnerability was gone. “How’s the brewing going?”

Garreth relaxed a little, finding the topic of potions far easier than all these feelings and complications of friendships. “It’s going well. It needs to brew for twenty-four hours, and then we’re nearing it being ready.” He tilted his head with a grin. “And I’ll show you my lab.”

She snorted, fighting a smile. “Right, your top-notch secret lab,” she remarked.

He chuckled. “Yes.” He felt excitement buzz inside his heart as if he had a Whizbee in there. After she showed him her secret place, he was wanting to show her his own place. However, he now felt an immense desire to take her there. Probably because it would be something he never showed anyone else before. It would just be between the two of them…

“I look forward to it,” Imelda said with a nod. She looked down at the handkerchief in her hands. He was pleasantly surprised it looked only slightly wrinkled in her hold; she must have taken good care of it, and that made his heart swell with more fondness.

Then she held it out to him, and his heart plummeted from the gesture.

“You should have it back,” she muttered, meeting his eyes. “After all…apparently it can lead to the wrong idea.”

Wrong idea? What in Merlin’s name was she talking about—? Oh… He remembered seeing his older sister having a handkerchief from her beloved beau. His stomach flipped, now understanding what Imelda meant.

But…what if he didn’t mind that assumption? It seemed like she did, though. That was why she was returning it.

Just when he thought his heart was only bruising from this conversation. Now his chest felt tight and achy, and he wished he could just tell her how he truly felt for her.

What good would it do, though? If she didn’t feel the same, wouldn’t it just burden her and possibly make her feel worse? He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to ruin their friendship either if she rejected him and it led to awkwardness, even warding her away from him.

He slowly took the handkerchief from her, and she retracted her hands. She took another deep breath and nodded as if this was the right thing, even though he was internally screaming that it wasn’t. None of this felt right to him, and he was just now realizing how he felt for her. Only to see he was too late. If he knew sooner, maybe he could have attempted a courtship with her. Invite her for a butterbeer with romantic intentions instead of an outing between friends.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow about the potion?” She offered. “After classes?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We can meet up at the Grand Staircase Tower.”

“Understood,” she replied. She gave him a tiny smile. “See you there, then.”

“See you,” he numbly said back, and he watched her walk up the stairs to the Great Hall.

When she was out of sight, he looked back down at his handkerchief. He never thought that he would feel so downcast about something of his being returned. Curiosity compelled him to raise the handkerchief to his nose. The pleasant and sensational smell of roses came from it. The same scent he remembered when he held her in comfort as well as when he kissed her over and over with desire burning hot inside him. The scent he now associated with Imelda.

He sighed and safely stored the fabric in his inner robe pocket. He went this long thinking he was just friends with Imelda. He could make himself keep thinking that for the sake of not ruining their friendship.

…Right?

Chapter Text

Imelda stared down at her hearty breakfast of eggs, toast, bacon, and even a cup of mint tea.

The sight of it made her stomach churn like never before.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked across from her, stuffing his face with his own eggs. Imelda grimaced, feeling more grossed out.

“Manners, Sebastian,” Ominis chided beside him, sitting perfectly straight as he gingerly drank his bergamot tea while holding the saucer.

Imelda moved her plate aside, and that made the two boys pause.

Sebastian swallowed his bite and gave her a serious and concerned look. “For someone that always eats a big breakfast—even before a Quidditch game—this is worrying. What happened?”

“It’s not about what happened,” Imelda said, leaning forward as she kept her voice lowered. Her stomach flipped as she glanced at the faculty table. Most of the professors were there…including the Headmaster, eating his breakfast with a bored expression on his pompous face. The phial of his hair was sitting at the bottom of her school bag, making her stomach flip.

“If you’re looking at something, I don’t know what it is,” Ominis dryly said.

Sebastian started to explain, “She’s looking at—”

Imelda kicked his shin, and he shouted in pain before glaring at her. Ominis jumped in his seat, nearly spilling his tea. “There’s a reason why I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but you decided to call attention to us anyway by bruising my bloody shin,” Sebastian grumbled, leaning down to rub his injured leg.

Imelda flushed with some shame. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“He’s taken more than a bruised leg from Anne,” Ominis remarked before drinking more tea. His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh. Is today the day?”

Imelda swallowed even though she didn’t have a bite of food in her mouth. “Yes.”

Ominis opened his mouth, but then Sebastian straightened in his seat. His eyes lit with anticipation.

“Post’s here.”

Imelda watched the owls of all kinds fly in to deliver letters and packages to students. In the flurry of white, brown, and gray feathers, there was a black bat soaring right to the Slytherin table.

Dusk spiralled down to the three of them, deftly landing in front of Sebastian. He folded in his leathery wings and stepped back before sitting on the table.

Sebastian took an apple slice and gave it to the bat. “Thanks, Dusk.”

The bat’s large ears flicked before he accepted the slice with his feet and curled up, munching on it with a passive expression.

Imelda lifted an eyebrow at the snacking bat while Sebastian picked up the letter Dusk moved away from. “Well, there’s no flower.”

Ominis smirked. “A letter from your belle?”

Sebastian gave him a glare he knew Ominis could sense while his ears turned red. “You don’t need to tease me. Of course you know it’s from Estelle.” He opened the letter, instantly melting with a faint smile and a soft gaze as he read whatever Estelle wrote to him.

Imelda leaned her cheek against her fist, finding this better to stomach than the idea of breakfast. “Things are going well, I guess?”

“Certainly,” Sebastian said with a light in his eyes. Imelda felt like she hadn’t seen him this livened up since their visit with Anne. Until Solomon ruined the reunion. He looked back at the letter and lightly thumbed the paper. Imelda was starting to catch the faint scent of lavender from it. “She’s…delightful.”

“I certainly hope so. Otherwise, why would you still be writing to her?” Ominis teased with a smirk as he started to drink more.

“At least I write to her, unlike you who just bumbles around—”

Ominis choked on his tea before sputtering it out. Imelda yelled at the splashes getting on her food and even her sleeves. The spray also reached Dusk, who shook himself and gave the coughing wizard a blank stare in his garnet brown eyes.

“Ominis!” She harshly scolded.

“Apologies,” he raspily said. He took out a pale green handkerchief from his robes and dabbed his mouth.

It seemed like Dusk was done with his staring. He shook himself and opened his wings, preparing to take off. Sebastian slowly reached out and smoothed back the fur on his head with a finger. Dusk allowed it and nuzzled his finger in response. Then he moved away and flapped his wings, going back the same way he came.

Imelda huffed and started to magically clean her sleeves. As she did so, she checked on the faculty table again. After her talk with Garreth, she told Professor Fig that the Polyjuice was at the last stage of being ready. He told her that he would take care of Black when the time came. Fig met her eyes and gave her the slightest reassuring smile, and she hoped that meant everything would go smoothly today.

She looked back down at her breakfast. She took a deep breath and forced herself to eat and swallow down the hearty food. She needed to be at her best, which meant she had to have as much energy as she normally would. With all of the work and preparation they put into this plan, she was not going to muck it up now.

~~~

Classes were unbearable. She barely stomached breakfast and lunch, she kept fiddling with her writing quill, and she even bounced her leg.

She didn’t know if it was paranoia, but she thought Sharp lifted an eyebrow while looking up at her from writing assessments. The ex-Auror probably knew all the tell-tale signs of a troublemaker, and Merlin, she was most likely obvious to him.

She might as well have “About to Commit a Crime” written above her head.

Herbology was the last class of the day, and they were now tending to their own Chinese Chomping Cabbages. Garlick made sure that—after an incident with Prewett—everyone wore dragonhide gloves just in case.

“This is bordering insanity,” Ominis muttered, keeping his gloved hands close to his chest. “Why must we be this close to snapping savoys?”

Imelda was beside him, glaring at the offending plant that kept clashing its fangs in anticipation. “You’re technically not having to be close to them,” she grumbled.

At least Garlick was considerate enough to help out Ominis with his obvious hindrance. Imelda was designated to help Ominis prune the shallow roots. Which meant Imelda risked her fingers both for her own cabbage, and Ominis’s.

“You’re doing a great job all the same,” Sebastian tried to encourage her. He was just to their right and he was already done with his root work. “The cabbages don’t seem so bad this early anyway.”

He yelped and moved away when his cabbage opened its maw far more than before. He let out a long breath while Ominis snorted. Imelda merely rolled her eyes and concentrated. She had to keep the cabbage tilted to have it snap its teeth up at the glass ceiling while she worked down at the low roots.

“You’re going to see Fig, right?” Sebastian asked, sounding closer. Imelda had to at least give it to Sebastian for choosing discretion, since the Chinese Chomping Cabbages were creating a cacophony all around them.

“Yes,” she said. “After this.” She precariously aimed her small lopper at the tips of the snarling roots.

“Do you want to regroup as well?” Ominis offered.

Imelda didn’t answer as focused on squeezing the lopper to snip the roots. She breathed easily as she stepped back, free from danger. “Maybe,” she said.

She glanced across the greenhouse to where she saw Garreth work on his own cabbage. He had his tongue sticking out just by a little as he concentrated. When he was done, he leaned away with a triumphant grin. Then his eyes met hers, and his face suddenly pinkened.

Her eyebrows furrowed just a little. Why was he acting that way? Their talk yesterday went well, she thought. She was so relieved to still have her friendship with Garreth, even if her feelings were making her feel unhappy. She would not admit she missed that handkerchief either.

Him curiously tilting his head brought her out of her thoughts. She gave him a look she hoped he caught on her need to talk to him after class. His sea-green eyes lit with understanding and he nodded with a faint smile. Her shoulders slumped; he knew what she meant, brilliant.

The sound of the bell resounded through the greenhouse.

“Alright, everyone, you did beautifully!” Garlick chirped. She beamed at them as she clasped her hands in front of herself. “Next time, we shall check back on our dittanys. Have a great and bountiful day!”

Imelda instantly shed her dragonhide gloves and shoved them into her bag. She checked on Garreth, seeing him also be quick to pack up and leave.

“I’ll see you two at Fig’s in half an hour,” she told Sebastian and Ominis. They nodded, and she briskly walked up the greenhouse stairs and around the pink-flowered-tree growing by the entrance.

A gait of long strides came up behind her, and she caught a whiff of mint in time to not feel worried.

“You got my attention, what is it?” Garreth asked, getting right to business.

“I have the essence,” she answered, looking up at him. His eyes widened a little before his expression turned solemn again. “Would you be willing to show me your lab?”

Garreth grinned as playfulness sparked in his eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.” He looked around them, clearly planning out the route. “This way.”

He walked faster, and Imelda sighed before picking up her pace to jog. How were his legs this long?

She followed him through the Central Hall, the Transfiguration Courtyard, the DADA Tower, and even up through the Ravenclaw Tower. Imelda was mystified by how long it took to get to his secret place.

Garreth finally slowed down as they approached the Grand Staircase Tower. “Just a little bit longer,” he promised before walking across to the spiral stairs around the central pillar. They went down a flight, and then they took the path to where the Faculty Tower was.

Imelda’s stomach flipped. This was a high risk of being caught by professors, being this close, but…she trusted Garreth. He knew what he was doing, and he was even trusting her with his own secret. She took a deep breath, quelling her nerves the best she could, and then she went after the redhead.

He turned to her with an expectant smile as they hardly walked into the hallway of the tower. “Here we are,” he said.

Imelda frowned and looked around them. To their right was a statue of a one-eyed witch with a humped back and staff, but everything else looked as normal as the rest of the castle.

If she were to be completely fair, though, she would know that not all things were as they appeared. So she just looked back at Garreth while raising her eyebrows, just waiting for him to reveal it.

He chuckled and looked around them to make sure there was no one nearby. With it being the last week of September, everyone must be heading outside to enjoy the nice weather. He took out his wand and stepped closer to the witch statue. Imelda kept a look out before watching him tap the humped back with his wand.

“Dissendium,” he whispered.

Stone scraping faintly sounded, and Garreth stepped back to let Imelda inspect what just happened. Her mouth went agape to see the hump opened to show a slide in a tunnel.

She naturally blushed at feeling his shoulder press against hers, as well as picking up that mint scent again. Merlin, she needed to get a hold of herself.

“Ladies first,” he lilted with a grin in his voice.

Imelda lightly rolled her eyes before climbing into the hump. She inhaled sharply as she rode the slide, not expecting the spiral on the way. She saw the light at the end of it, showing wooden floor boards, and she prepared herself to slide to a stand. She stumbled forward from the landing, but she managed to keep her balance. She let out a small breath and turned, waiting for Garreth to arrive.

Garreth easily slid down and jumped onto the feet as if he’d done thousands of times. Maybe he had. He gave her a rakish grin, and she felt warmth rush through her at the sight.

Get a grip, she scolded herself. She was not supposed to feel anything more than friendship with him, lest she ruin it and lose another friend.

“So where’s the potion?” She asked, looking around the area. The landing was vacant and had only an ornate lift made of metal bars.

“It’s just down there,” Garreth explained, walking to the lift and opening the doors. He gestured to the inside. “Come on.”

Imelda followed him in, and he closed the doors before pulling the lever. It smoothly started going down, and neither of them said anything, just listening to the mechanical creaking of the lift. She stared up at the metal bars, trying to focus on anything but the body heat emitting from Garreth right next to her.

But when the lift got onto stone ground, Garreth opened the doors and let her get out first. “Not bad for a secret place, eh?” He asked, downright proud of it. “I know it’s nothing ethereal like that pond with the stags, but this place is more spacious than you’d think.”

Imelda couldn’t help but be impressed as they went further into the passage where the stone tunnel had the occasional wooden beam holding it up. “Does this tunnel go somewhere?”

“Yes, it goes right to Honeydukes.”

“Honeydukes?” Imelda blinked. “Wait, so you could have snuck into Honeydukes instead of taking the Floo like the first day?”

“I don’t always use the passage. I suspect my aunt knows about it, so I try to keep my use of it as rare as I can.”

“Does this mean she could walk in and find the potion?”

“Nah. I doubt she goes all the way in, if she knows I use it.” Garreth held a hand out to Imelda to placate her. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty good at covering my tracks.”

“Really?”

Garreth chuckled. “Always the tone of surprise,” he muttered, but was it her imagination or did he sound…fond?

The tunnel finally opened up to a large cavern, where there was a small ledge that seemed to lead to more of the passage up there. On the ground in front of it was a decorative flooring, with a metal square piece sticking up from the wood around it. She curiously walked toward it before a hand was placed on her shoulder. She looked at Garreth with a lifted eyebrow.

“We’re not going further in,” he said. Then he easily grinned more with mischief. “Not now, anyway.” Then his eyes trailed down to his hand still on her shoulder. He moved it away as if it burned, and his face flushed. “Er, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “I’m used to you being physically affectionate.”

“Right, yeah…with my friends.” He let out a small laugh, but Imelda tilted her head at him, wondering why it sounded off. He didn’t even meet her eyes, instead looking down at himself toeing the ground with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Garreth, are you alright?” She asked, feeling weirded out by this change of behavior. He wasn’t usually like this. Was he ill?

He cleared his throat, and whatever transpired over him was gone. He flashed her a smile that still caused warmth in her heart, but she thought the light wasn’t as strong in his eyes as usual. “Yes, of course.” He gestured to more of the area where there was a nook formed by a thin stone wall. “It’s over here.”

Imelda walked in step with him, and once around the curve, she saw a pewter cauldron with steam rising from it. At the moment, she couldn’t see what the liquid inside looked like. Next to the cauldron was a small chest, which Garreth knelt in front of and opened. Inside were jars of different ingredients safely stored in cubbies. The lid of the chest had feathers strapped to it, including the Fwooper feather she got for him. He picked up a jar that had one last scoop size of lacewing flies. He shook out the rest of the lacewing flies into the cauldron and then stirred it three times anti-clockwise with a small ladle.

Imelda warily walked closer, and she wrinkled her nose when she finally saw the liquid inside. It looked like steaming gray-green mud that slowly bubbled.

“I didn’t brew it as well as I could,” Garreth explained. “If I did it to the best of my abilities, you would be this person for about 12 hours.”

Imelda nearly gagged at the idea of being Black for that long. “So, what’s the estimated duration, then?”

“An hour or less,” he answered.

Imelda tried to calculate how long she needed. She had to find Scrope, coax the password out of him, get out of there to change back, and then sneak into the Headmaster’s Office to do the bloody trial. She rubbed her forehead. “An hour should be more than enough time…”

“You said you have the essence, right?”

“I do.”

Garreth looked expectantly up at her, and she dug through her bag to produce the phial. Her heart anxiously thudded as she looked at the pitch black strands of hair. She was aware of the risks, but her heart grew heavy as she was now hit with the reality of the risks she was dragging Garreth into. If she got caught, he could too. He would be incriminated far worse than he fathomed.

She promised him she would tell him everything, though. Hopefully that would give him enough of a warning.

She took a deep breath and handed the phial to him. Garreth lifted an eyebrow as he inspected the black hair. His eyes looked flinty with suspicion. If she knew him, he was trying to figure out whose hair it was.

He stood up, still staring at the hair. He slowly met her eyes. “Whose is this?” He asked, dead serious.

Imelda hesitated. She knew she had to tell him, but he wouldn’t deny her the potion now of all times, right? She couldn’t afford to wait any longer for that trial; she didn’t know how much of a headstart she had against Ranrok and Rookwood. Not to mention that she needed to know more about Isidora to see if her path could provide insight for taking away pain. And she’d be a step closer for those insufferable Keepers to just give her answers instead of leading her on.

“Imelda,” he sharply said. His gaze was stern, looking the grimest she had ever seen him. “Whose hair is this?”

She swallowed. Now or never. “…Black’s.”

Garreth blinked. A moment of silence passed, stifling the air around them. He searched her expression as if he were expecting her to be messing with him. He should know she wasn’t humorous enough to do that.

“Headmaster Black’s?” He asked for clarification.

She huffed and crossed her arms, indignant defensiveness easily rising in her. “No, the nitwit in Diagon Alley,” she dryly remarked. Garreth turned away from her while rolling his eyes. “Of course Headmaster Black!”

He ran a hand down his face before incredulously glaring at her. “Are you trying to get expelled?”

“Yes, Garreth,” she snapped. “I’ve been dying to be expelled after years of having a perfect record!”

“For the love of Merlin, Imelda, shut it! This is serious!”

“So am I!”

Garreth held out his arms, with a frantic expression on his face. “By all means, enlighten me, then!” He pointed the phial at her. “Why do you need to impersonate Black?”

Imelda sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It’s a long story, but if you hear me out, you’ll understand.”

He stared hard at her before he asked, “Does this have to do with the strange magic you did to that troll? As well as why you went into the Forbidden Forest at thirteen?”

She grimly nodded. She didn’t feel as nervous as she did when she told Sebastian and Ominis. Either because this wouldn’t be the first time sharing all of this, or she really did trust Garreth most out of everyone. Maybe it was both.

He sighed heavily. “Alright, fine.” He crossed his arms, his solemn expression not changing one bit, but his eyes did flicker with some concern. “What’s the story?”

Imelda took a deep breath and started to tell him everything. She didn’t omit anything involving ancient magic, the Keepers, Isidora, the trials, Ranrok, and even Harlow. The only things she kept from Garreth was mention of the Undercroft and the situation with Anne, as they weren’t her secrets to share. His expression stayed serious with his eyebrows furrowing as he took in all she told him.

At the end of it, he ran a hand through his hair. “So…let me get this straight: these ‘Keepers’ want you to do a third out of four trials, which takes place in the Headmaster’s Office. But in order for you to do that, you have to get in there by knowing the password since Black is a prat. But because he’s tight-lipped about it, you need to impersonate him and then talk to his house-elf.”

“I know it sounds mental,” she tiredly said.

“It is, but I just wanted to make sure I understood your plan.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she regarded him. “You believe me?”

He snorted and gave her an amused smile. “It’s far-fetched, but it also makes sense.” He tilted his head. “I also don’t think you’d lie to me.”

She caught a hint of uncertainty in his gaze, and she was determined to prove him wrong. “I would never,” she firmly said.

His eyes widened a little before his smile relaxed into a content one. “I’m glad.” He looked down at the phial again. “So, I guess we have to get a move on with this.”

“You’re willing to help?” She asked as she watched him open the phial and take single hair out. “A-after everything?”

He gave her an unimpressed look. “I’ve agreed to make Polyjuice potion for you before I knew who you were impersonating. I was aware of the risks and was willing to go through with it anyway. Would you rather I didn’t?”

She flushed and crossed her arms again. “I just know I’m asking a lot from you. And if we get caught—”

“We’re not going to get caught.” He grinned with utmost confidence. “You’re talking to a potions prodigy that’s already made Polyjuice once without getting in trouble.” He squatted down to delicately drop the hair into the potion. “Your ‘perfect record’ is in good hands.”

She snorted, feeling more and more tension leave her shoulders. “I should have confided in you from the get go if I had known you’d be this supportive.”

“Well, better late than never,” he said. He rummaged through his chest again and pulled out a glass flask. He dipped it into the cauldron and lifted it, even cleaning the outside with a cloth. He stood up and met her eyes again. His gaze was warm and soft, making her heart feel the same way. “Thank you for trusting me with all of this.”

He certainly wasn’t making this easy for her attempt to keep things platonic. She didn’t bring herself to break eye contact either. She swallowed and faintly replied, “Of course. Trust goes both ways.”

He softly chuckled. “It certainly does.”

Imelda panicked at feeling too warm, too drawn to him. She started to flashback to the time in the broom closet where they were desperately holding onto each other and kissing with a fiery need like never before. She feared the desperation inside her that longed to have that sensation again.

Don’t muck this up, her voice hissed full of anxiety, reeling her out of her rather pleasant memories.

She blinked and looked down at his hand where the Polyjuice potion was. It no longer looked like mud and instead gave her the impression of freshly pressed olive oil.

“I have to drink that,” she muttered. “But not here. I have to see Professor Fig.”

“Right. At the beginning of this business, you did mention he was involved.” He lifted the flask and sympathetically winced. “This looks far worse than Leander’s,” he mused.

She balked at him. “Your Polyjuice was used with Leander?”

He chuckled. “Had a rightful time with that during Christmas break.” He blinked. “Oh yeah, the flavor must be different too.”

She gave him a weird look. “What do you mean?”

He handed the flask for her to carefully stow in her bag. Then he gestured for her to follow him so they could go out the way they came. She did so without hesitation, walking right beside him.

“When I made Leander’s, the color was closer to pumpkin juice. Even tasted kind of like it.” His face lit up. “You have to tell me how yours tastes. I’m now curious about the range of flavors.”

“I will. Chances are Sebastian would be curious too.” She shook her head at the thought of her inquisitive friend.

“Right, he and Ominis know about all of this,” he muttered as they walked through the long tunnel.

She frowned at his detached tone. “I kind of had to. I revealed more about my special magic than I intended, and I can’t lie to save myself.”

“What kind of circumstance was that?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Imelda tried to figure out how to imply it was something else without spilling about the Undercroft.

“Ah.” He looked straight ahead and clenched his jaw. “So there’s more but you don’t want to tell me.”

“I shouldn’t,” she corrected. She saw how distant he looked, and irritation rose in her again. “Garreth, there are secrets that are not mine to talk about. Don’t you understand that?”

He stopped when they got to the lift, and he sighed. He scratched the back of his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Imelda nodded, at least pleased she got it through to him. “It’s fine.”

They went into the lift, and there’s a sense of awkwardness between them as they stayed quiet on the ride up. Imelda didn’t know what was going on with Garreth. Why was he acting odd and even upset about things like Sebastian and Ominis knowing about her ancient magic? It was a burden, and she was thankful they were taking it fine, but she worried for their safety.

She felt compelled to say more to reassure Garreth, though, as he opened the doors of the lift.

“I told you because I trust you, and I wanted to tell you.” When they walked out of the lift, she grabbed his robe sleeve to make him stop and turn to her. “I trust you, more than anyone else.” He was the only one that she showed her secret haven to. He was the only one who saw her completely vulnerable.

Garreth seemed to finally understand the gravity of her words, and he nodded back. “Okay.”

She made sure he was fine before she let go of his robe sleeve. “Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Come on, we need to see Professor Fig.”

“Right. I’ll go first and make sure no one sees us sneak out,” he volunteered. He gave her a smile to tell her everything was fine now before climbing up the slide they came from.

Imelda followed him, realizing that her nervousness of being caught lessened. Maybe it helped that she told Garreth everything now, or maybe it helped to trust in him with such a risky endeavor. Maybe it was both, or maybe she just felt better after being around him.

…As much as she didn’t want her yearning heart to admit it, it was most likely the last option.

These feelings are going to be the death of me, she thought.

~~~

Garreth and Imelda took a more scenic route, going through the Faculty and Clock Towers and even by the Gryffindor Tower—which Garreth pointed out on the way—before going across the Suspension Bridge and into the DADA Tower.

Imelda thought she noticed Hobhouse by the flight of stairs by the entrance, but she didn’t care as they went across the Tower to Fig’s.

As expected, Sebastian and Ominis were near the stairs, sitting on a bench against the mural wall. They were quietly conversing before they perked up at noticing the two coming. They rose from the bench.

“Imelda!” Sebastian cried out with an excited smile. He glanced at the two of them. “Fig’s waiting in his classroom.”

“Great, let’s get a move on,” she said. She led the way to the classroom just across the loos. She made a mental note that she would probably need to change in there before she drank the potion.

“And…Weasley?” Ominis asked when she opened the classroom door to all three boys.

“Hey, I’m here to help any way I can,” Garreth said with his hands up and an easy grin on his freckled face. “It is my potion, after all.”

“Ah, Ms. Reyes, I see you have your band of friends,” Professor Fig mused as he came out of his office. He had a satchel slung over his shoulder as well as an amused twinkle in his eye.

“Hello, Professor.” She gestured to the three boys that seemed unsure how to act in front of one of their teachers. “They all know about the trial. As well as everything else.”

Fig’s eyebrows rose, and he carefully regarded the boys in this new light. “Scribner’s thorn in her side, Sharp’s thorn in his side, and Black’s attempt to gain more favor.” The three blinked in surprise at how he associated them, but the professor just chuckled. “I’d say you found a great group to rely on, Imelda.”

“I thought so too,” she confidently said. She tightened her grip on her school bag’s strap. “And…about Black?”

“I’ve already arranged to meet him at The Hog’s Head. He was more than happy to have elf wine or even firewhiskey.” Fig took out his pocket watch and nodded before putting it away. “He should already be there, so I must get a move on.”

He took the bag off his shoulder and handed it to Imelda. She hastily accepted it, nonplussed by the weight being heavier than she thought. She must have gotten used to magically-extended bags.

“I already transfigured a set of clothes that are a perfect match to Black’s,” Fig explained. “Shoes included, of course.”

“Thank you, Fig.”

The nerves of this task came back in full force. Her stomach churned again and she made a little noise as bile rose up her throat.

“Not used to breaking monumental rules?” Sebastian lightly teased to lighten things up.

“She might also be dreading having to taste Black,” Garreth added. Sebastian and Ominis turned and gave him a grossed out look. Garreth sighed. “I meant the taste of Polyjuice!”

Imelda rubbed her forehead. “I need to get this over with.”

“Of course,” Fig said. He opened the door. “I’ll leave you four to it, and I shall be busy keeping Black drunk.” He chuckled. “He’s not the easiest person to handle while drunk.”

All four of the students stared at the professor while he left and closed the door, mulling over what Fig said.

Ominis let out a sardonic laugh. “What I wouldn’t give to see how ridiculous that prick is when intoxicated.”

“Well, you can’t now,” Imelda said. “We have a task.”

She went out first, and she heard them follow after her. She headed toward the loo, but then Sebastian hurried to put his arm across the door, barring her entrance.

“What are you doing?”

“You can’t change here,” he replied as if it were obvious.

“I’m not changing without any privacy!” She hissed. She waved to all three of them. “I’m certainly not going to change in front of you blokes.”

Garreth had a blank look on his face until Ominis elbowed him. The Gryffindor tamped down his yelp and rubbed his side, now full-on blushing.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and checked their surroundings. There weren’t many students in the area, thankfully. He lowered his voice and explained, “As hilarious as it would be to see Black leave the girls’ lavatory, we should probably keep any attention on the low end of things.”

Imelda understood what he meant, and she sighed before going toward the boys’ loo. She checked to make sure no one noticed, but then Garreth made a protesting noise.

“I’ll go in first and make sure there are no witnesses,” he said before slipping in.

Imelda, Sebastian, and Ominis leaned against the wall as they waited for Garreth to come back out.

“So, you told him everything?” Sebastian asked, looking at her while crossing his arms.

“Not everything.” She leaned forward to see Ominis tensing up. “Your…secret is still safe.” He relaxed as he knew what she was referring to. She looked back at Sebastian with his guarded expression. “And so is yours involving Anne.”

“I’m surprised,” he admitted as his shoulders slumped. “I thought you would tell him all of it.”

“Well, those parts aren’t mine to share. It’s up to you two on whether you want to let him in on it.”

“Would you rather we did?” Ominis dryly asked.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Why would my opinion matter?”

“Come on, something happened between you two,” Sebastian said. “I saw that look you two shared in the Greenhouses.”

“I had to elbow him,” was all Ominis said as if it were self-explanatory.

Her face flushed at the statements nonetheless. “I—”

Garreth emerged, while laughing it up with who seemed to be Head Boy and also a Gryffindor like him. “Oh, that’s good! I’ll have to take you up on that wizard’s chess in the common room, yeah?” The Head Boy merely nodded with a grin and started walking away with a wave. “See you then!” He turned back to the Slytherins. “Good chap.” He pointed at the door with his thumb. “Oh, and it’s now empty.”

“Good, thanks.” Imelda, after checking again no one was looking, rushed in. She was admittedly surprised that not much was different than the girls’ bathroom. Except there were urinals for standing. She shook her head, mystified by the idea. She really hoped she didn’t have to use the bathroom while impersonating Black.

She went to a stall and closed and closed the door. She didn’t waste time and set the two bags onto the ground. She saw the three pairs of shoes by her stall, and she wondered how inconspicuous this looked.

“Maybe you three shouldn’t be lurking around one stall?” She asked while she shed her robes and untied her shoes.

“Don’t you want us to keep a lookout?” Sebastian asked through the door.

“That would be nice, but not right outside my stall. What if someone came in and saw you all just dallying around this area?”

“She’s got a point,” Ominis said. “We can at least go by the sinks.”

“Thank you,” she said as their feet moved out of her sight. She kept working on changing, and she grimaced at the green formal suit Black always wore inside the bag. She sighed and started to slip the far-bigger clothes onto herself.

There was a bit of tense silence, but Ominis finally decided to break it.

“So, Garreth…did you know Sebastian’s got a belle?”

“Ominis!”

“I didn’t before, but now you gotta tell me,” Garreth said with an eager tone. “Oh, is it that Muggle girl? What was her name again?”

“Estelle,” Sebastian answered, sounding offended for her. “How could you forget her name?”

Imelda fought a smile, not wanting to laugh to disrupt their very amusing conversation. She had the large shoes on as well as the trousers, and she was now working on the lavish layers of the suit.

“Hey, I didn’t connect with her as well as you obviously did,” Garreth defended himself. “Has she been sending you letters in her perfume?”

“She is, but how did you know?”

“Ooh, she is definitely serious about you, that’s good!”

“…Really?”

“Yeah! My older sister did that all the time with her beau.” He chuckled. “She’s newly married to him now, actually.”

“Wow, you Weasleys don’t waste time,” Ominis remarked.

“Of course not. When we know, we know, and we don’t want to mince words or anything.”

Imelda felt a pang in her chest as Garreth trailed off. Then that meant Garreth didn’t feel the same for her, right? If he did, wouldn’t he have done something? Maybe not; they were only fifteen, after all. Her self-doubt grew stronger, though, making her believe that he truly wouldn’t think of her in that way.

All the more reason to keep things platonic, her incessant thoughts reasoned.

She tamped down a sigh as she finished putting the suit jacket on, feeling the coattails drape all over the tiled floor. “Okay, I’m ready to drink the Polyjuice.”

She crouched to stuff her own clothes and shoes into the black bag. Then she fished the phial out of her school bag. Her nose wrinkled at the sight of the disgusting shade of green-yellow.

“Any advice on drinking it, Garreth?” She asked as she took the cork off.

“Just down it in one go,” he easily answered. “Bottoms up.”

“Bottoms up,” she muttered. She forced herself to pluck up the courage, and with a deep breath beforehand, she put the phial to her lips and tipped it back.

Chapter Text

Sour grapes was the first taste on her tongue, but the more that came, it was starting to taste like burnt wood shavings that tried to pass as fruit. She wanted to retch, but she fought that instinct, swallowing it all down.

She made a noise that was between coughing and clearing her throat. “That was bloody horrid,” she hoarsely said.

“What did it taste like?” Garreth asked.

“You’re sounding too eager,” she reprimanded. “But…burnt, fruity wood…”

“That’s a strange one,” Ominis mused. “Though I suppose it makes sense as he does like wine.”

“It must be his personality that makes it taste smoky or ashy,” Sebastian suggested.

Imelda was about to retort something, but then her insides writhed like never before. She groaned and held her stomach, fearful she would actually lose her lunch this time.

“Imelda?” Garreth’s voice was now full of concern.

She didn’t respond as she was focused on her breathing. She leaned heavily against the wall of the bathroom stall as a burning sensation starting in her stomach spread to every fiber of her being. This relentless feeling scorching her blood made her wish she dealt with the other burning feeling she got from Garreth instead. That was bearable and far more enjoyable. This was torturous.

Her groaning turned into pained gasps as she looked down at her hands bubbling like a potion’s rolling boil. They started to grow right before her, turning into slender, pale fingers. She felt her hair shrivel up in a way, shortening and feeling heavy on top. Her spine was stretched out like someone was forcibly pulling it taut. The rest of her bones were given the same painful procedure, even her cheekbones and jaw. She felt like something sprouted all around her mouth too, and rested on her chin. There was a strange weight in the center of her being too.

It was finally over, and she rested her sweaty forehead against the wall, panting hard from the excruciating process.

A light knock on her stall sounded. “Imelda, are you alright?”

“You couldn’t give me a warning about the agonizing transformation?” She asked, her pain quickly turning into anger.

She was only met with still silence.

Then Sebastian slowly said, “Come…out of the stall.”

She sighed and reached for the latch, only to find it was lower to her than when she first came into the stall. Her eyebrows furrowed as she undid the latch and opened the door. Garreth gaped up at her, and she staggered out of the stall to see the same gobsmacked expressions on Sebastian’s and Ominis’s faces. They were shorter than her now too.

“I’m…guessing it worked, then?” She asked, turning to Garreth. Then she blinked at hearing herself. Or rather, hearing Black. She hurriedly moved past them and went to the sinks where mirrors were above them.

Her eyes widened, but the reflection showed Black doing that with his dark gray eyes. She reached up, lightly touching her cheeks as well as the black-and-grey hair styled on top of her head. She frowned at the mustache and beard growing on her face and felt it.

“His mustache is…waxy,” she said, disgusted at the texture.

Ominis stifled a laugh. “He puts product in his facial hair?” His shock was instantly gone as pure delight was on his face. Then he frowned. “Wait, how were you able to tell? Give me your hand.”

Imelda didn’t know why he asked but she did so, turning to him and holding Black’s hand out. He held it and tutted in a second before dropping her hand.

“Black always wears gloves. You can’t have bare hands!”

“I think Imelda just forgot to put them on,” Garreth said. He picked up the black bag and started to rifle through it. He blushed a little as he concentrated on searching. “Er, your clothes are still warm…”

She blushed as well, and she indignantly said, “Well I just changed out of them!” She went over to him in one easy stride and snatched the bag out of his hands. “I’ll get them.” As she felt for the gloves that had to be in there, she glared at Sebastian picking up her school bag. “And you better not start searching through that either! Do none of you have a sense of respect for private things?”

Sebastian laughed. “I’m sorry, but it’s hilarious to hear you scold us when you…sound like the pompous Headmaster.” Garreth and Ominis were also fighting smiles with their eyes shining with amusement.

She rolled her eyes and made a triumphant noise at taking out the gloves. She slipped them on and shoved the bag back into Garreth’s arms. “I’m going to need that back when I return to my normal self.” She sternly pointed at him. “Do not go through it, got it?”

“Got it,” he said, leaning back from her pointing.

“Good.” She sighed and ran a hand down her face, feeling the leather of the gloves. “Now, I just have to find Scrope…”

“You’ve got about an hour, that should be enough time, yeah?” Sebastian asked.

“It should.” Imelda really hoped it was. Otherwise, all of this would have been for nothing. “I might have to ask some faculty.”

“Remember, you must talk like him,” Ominis emphatically reminded her. “His mannerisms, his responses, everything. If you don’t, someone will know something’s up.”

“Best case scenario, they’ll think he’s drunk,” Garreth pointed out to relieve her of some pressure.

“I’m just going to go,” she tiredly said. “Before this gets too suspicious.”

“Where do you want us to meet you?” Sebastian asked.

She racked her mind. Where would be best? She would need to go somewhere as soon as she could when the potion wore off. But she didn’t know where Scrope would be. He could be across Hogwarts on the opposite side of her designated meeting spot.

“Let’s just go with the Grand Staircase, near the hourglasses.”

The three boys nodded. “Best of luck,” Sebastian bade with a two-fingered salute.

“I’m going to need it,” she muttered before opening the door and leaving the loo.

Three young students were walking in front of her. One look at her, though, they panicked and hurried out of the way. She was about to thank them, but she remembered Black hardly acknowledged students’ existences.

Strut like a peacock, she reminded herself as she kept her back straight and stiffly walked through the hallway. At least those quick moments of training with Sebastian and Ominis came in handy.

“Ah, do you have a moment, Professor?”

Her heart flipped as she saw Sharp limping toward her. Black doesn’t get frightened by Sharp, her internal, panicking voice hissed.

She harshly cleared her throat and racked her mind on how Ominis coached her in talking. “Yes, Professor Sharp?” She asked with an air of impatience. She gestured to the flights of stairs behind the potions professor. “I have places to be. I do not have time for careless conversation.”

Sharp gave her a hard stare, and it took everything in her to not be unnerved. Was there a personal animosity between Sharp and Black? Or was she coming on too strong and indifferent?

“I see,” he said in an even tone. Sharp interlocked his hands together as he continued, “You asked me about a particular potion, and I have it ready.”

“No need to be vague, I don’t have all day,” she replied. Not even an hour, she irately thought. “I need to find my trusted elf. You haven’t seen him around, have you?”

“I believe I last saw him in the Great Hall,” Sharp dismissively answered. He glanced at the few students in the area, and he stayed respectful as he said, “Best not to discuss here about the potion either, sir.”

Imelda was internally screaming. Out of all the professors, she did not want to spend too much time around Sharp in this form. He could easily figure out the Polyjuice and expel her and her accomplices.

“You may speak freely, Sharp. I do not have time nor care to spend longer than I need to with you.”

His brown eyes turned flinty as his jaw clenched. “Very well.” He took a deep breath and said in a louder voice, “I’ve brewed the Cure for Boils you wanted. I can drop it by your office when it’s convenient.”

Imelda heard a guffaw, and she looked over her shoulder. In the middle of the hallway, Ominis held onto a cackling Sebastian with both of them bending over from laughter. Garreth had a hand over his mouth, obviously hiding his grin. Other students nearby heard it too, and were stifling laughs and trying to fight smiles of their own.

She looked back at Sharp, who feigned an innocent expression on his grim face. Oh, this was certainly intentional. Whatever Sharp had against Black, he wasn’t afraid to embarrass the Headmaster.

She cleared her throat, trying to pretend she was attempting to save face. “Of course, of course,” she flippantly replied. She irately waved a hand, thinking Black probably didn’t want Sharp in his presence after this. “Have a student deliver it, promptly.”

Sharp’s eyebrows furrowed as he warily eyed Black. Her stomach flipped. Was that the wrong response?

“So be it,” he casually said. Imelda walked past him, and she heard Sharp mutter, “Now to determine which student gets this rather unenviable task…”

She was severely tempted to just Floo right to Great Hall, but she didn’t think Black had ever used it before. Ominis did mention how self-absorbed he was before. So, she had to go the long way to just get to the Great Hall.

She would pass several students as she went through the Transfiguration Courtyard and Central Hall. While she was exasperated by the frantic looks students gave her, she was at least pleased they know to move out of the way. Her chest felt cold and numb as she had a sense of deja vu. She remembered some students would do the same to her when she was clearly upset.

Holding her chin up high while strutting through the halls and closing her hands into fists… Merlin, she had some of the same mannerisms as the biggest prick in Hogwarts. She felt sick, thinking that she and Headmaster Black were similar.

No, I’m not, she avidly thought. I’m not pompous nor condescending. But her inner voice didn’t sound confident. She shook her head and continued through the Central Hall, and she spotted familiar black hair near the library.

Isaac Cooper was discussing something with Purus Malfoy. The blond had his arms crossed and lightly rubbed his head, the same area she remembered seeing the Bludger strike him. His silver eyes landed on Black, and he purposely made his way to him.

Oh Merlin please no, she thought as her stomach turned to lead with dread.

“Professor,” Purus said in his usual posh voice. His back was completely straight, making him nearly reach her height. “We were hoping to talk with you.”

She glanced between Purus and Isaac. What could they—? Oh. Her short nails were digging through the leather in her palms now. She was going to hate this…

“If this is about Quidditch, you can forget about it, Mr. Malfoy,” she dismissed. The words felt like sand in her mouth. She couldn’t believe she said that!

“Sir, Quidditch is rudimentary,” Isaac reasoned in a calm voice. He intently made eye contact with her, a determined shine in his dark green eyes made prominent. “It’s a part of Hogwarts. Taking it away just because Purus was injured—”

“I have never cared for the poor excuse of a sport,” she retorted. She clenched her jaw to not downright grimace at these words that went against her true thoughts. She did her best to ignore the older Slytherins simultaneously frowning. She remembered Ominis telling her about Black’s thoughts on Quidditch and even more on why he didn’t want Quidditch for this year.

“As for Mr. Malfoy here being injured, this is about more than just students being injured. That insipid game puts purebloods’ lives in danger. And more importantly, their lineage.”

“Sir, I healed fine, as you can see,” Purus stoutly pointed out.

“As far as I’m concerned, this conversation is over,” she firmly said back. “Now, good day.” She walked past them, nearly shouldering Isaac on the way.

“Maybe Kogawa can get through to him,” she caught Isaac saying.

Her heart flipped. Oh no, what if she did run into Kogawa? She would have to say even more needless things against her beloved sport.

As she stepped outside at the Viaducts Entrance, she considered the possibility of such a thing. She…was impersonating the Headmaster. Her word was the rules of the school. What she said goes, right? Did that mean she did have the power to bring back Quidditch?

She was so lost in thought as she walked on the Viaduct Bridge that she nearly ran into Professor Kogawa herself. She managed to stop herself in time before making Black look like a bumbling fool—even if that was tempting to do.

Kogawa stood right in front of him, and Imelda saw how intent she was in speaking to her.

Merlin, kill me now, she miserably thought.

“Professor Black. Again, it’s not too late to reconsider your decision regarding Quidditch.” She held her head high and devoutly reasoned, “We could still have trials and a somewhat shortened season. It would be better than none at all.”

The Quidditch playing side of Imelda was agreeing with Kogawa, immensely wanting the game back. She could finally play as a Chaser again. She could regale her father and grandfather with more thrilling games when she visited home. She could soak in any praise she received from her housemates and family. She could reprove her worth in her best skills.

But…The rest of her knew that wasn’t right. The bigger picture was about more than Quidditch, and aside from her personal wishes, they were not in line with Black. Above everything else, she needed to keep having an accurate depiction of Black. No matter how much it killed her…

Imelda internally took a deep breath as she said, “As I told Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Cooper, I am not intent on changing my mind, Professor Kogawa.” She wished she could rattle Black with her bare hands as she said the only insult she could think that would hit hard: “It is only a silly game.”

As expected, Kogawa’s eyes widened as she incredulously echoed, “A silly game?” Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed at her as she let out a sharp breath. “You’re quite impossible sometimes, sir.”

Her insides writhed at the baleful look Kogawa gave her, but she reminded herself it was not at her but at Black.

“I’ve got a good mind to write to the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry about you,” she even threatened.

Imelda perked up at that before remembering to keep a straight face. This could actually be a boon for them. If the Ministry had a problem with Black doing this, he would have to bring Quidditch back. Maybe there was a way to turn this around… How could she indirectly help Kogawa do just that?

“Good idea,” she dryly remarked. She waved a dismissive hand. “I can even provide the parchment, should you need it.”

Kogawa was nonplussed by her bluff. “Very well, I will,” she stubbornly replied. “And with pleasure!”

“Good. Now, where is my elf? Still in the Great Hall?”

She clicked her tongue and put a hand on her hip. “Yes, sir. Seems to be avoiding me.”

“Probably because you keep accosting him about this insignificant activity.” She moved around Kogawa. “Good luck with the Ministry.” Even though she said that with a bite, she was severely hoping someone would give Black a piece of their mind.

Kogawa huffed, and Imelda quickened her pace. She took three steps at a time up the stairs of Viaduct Courtyard.

“If only Black had the power to choose the other professors too. Then we could get rid of Muggle-borns like Garlick.”

Imelda stiffened at those words, and instantly searched for the source. Taking Garreth’s spot by the stone balustrade overlooking the bridge was Hobhouse, and he was talking to some other Ravenclaw. Wait, she recognized that Ravenclaw that was with Hamish Bulstrode when he picked on Poppy.

Her mouth was agape at what he heard, though. Hobhouse was prejudiced against Muggle-borns? She hardly cared about him before, but now she cared about teaching him a lesson.

Remember your appearance, she thought. Right, she couldn’t now, and she begrudgingly turned on her heel and hastened to get into the Great Hall.

Imelda wouldn’t forget what she heard, though.

With her longer legs and quick pace, she made it into the corridor between the Reception Hall and the Great Hall.

Almost there, she internally whispered.

Only for Professor Weasley to be coming out.

“Oh for the love of Salazar,” Imelda whispered to herself. Why did professors keep wanting to talk to Black?!

“Ah, Headmaster,” she respectfully greeted, walking up to her. “I was hoping to voice some concerns to you about Fig.”

She frowned. “What about him?”

Weasley had a look of concern as she explained, “He’s rarely here as it is. He constantly makes trips to the Ministry, hardly teaching students about Magic Theory.”

Probably because the rising threat of a goblin war against wizardkind is a LITTLE more important than Magic Theory, Imelda impatiently thought.

“He’s handling some business for me,” she offhandedly remarked. “I would rather you worry more about that nephew of yours than your fellow professor.”

Imelda internally facepalmed. Why did she say that? Now his aunt was going to watch him like a hawk.

Weasley blinked. “What did Garreth do this time?”

Imelda didn’t like the exasperated tone. Was this a normal occurrence? Garreth didn’t seem to cause that much trouble from what she remembered…

“He…just gave that impression. You know how teenagers are,” she hastily explained. “They’re harder to wrangle than some professor, wouldn’t you say?”

“I, erm, I suppose, sir.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall be going.” Imelda didn’t waste time and went right through the grand doors and into the Great Hall, not giving Weasley a second to talk to her.

She took a deep breath and frantically looked for the one-eared house elf. Then, straight ahead, she found Scrope hanging by the Headmaster’s podium in front of the faculty table.

“Oh thank Merlin,” she muttered before striding up to him. “Scrope!”

Scrope stood at attention, his one, unbandaged ear flicking. He stared up at her with a desire to serve. “Greetings, master.”

She was not going to beat around the bush. Black wouldn’t anyway with his own elf. “Remind me of the password to my office.”

Scrope owlishly blinked his massive ice blue eyes. “But Master made Scrope swear never to tell anyone. Even Master himself.”

Of bloody course he did, Imelda darkly thought.

She played along with her impatience and anger about Black into her voice as she said in her best affronted tone, “How dare you question me? I’ve a mind to give you a matching set of ears.”

Scrope fearfully reached up to his bandage before he bowed his head. “Er, yes, sir. Of course, sir. Scrope begs forgiveness. It is the Black family motto, Master.”

“Right, of course.” She racked her mind. Did Ominis ever mention the motto? Of all things Black talked about, did he never talk about his family motto? She internally panicked as she couldn’t recollect anything of the sort.

“Master does remember it…?”

Imelda had to think what Blacks could possibly obsess over, and she blurted out, “Along the lines of ‘everlasting purebloods’, of course.”

Scrope hesitantly said, “Close, Master. Scrope thinks Master is indeed testing Scrope. It is ‘always pure’.”

“Obviously,” she replied. That seemed too easy of a password.

“And of course, as Master knows, in French.”

There it was.

“Ah, yes, of course.” She didn’t know anything about French. She didn’t think any of her friends did either. This was going to sound stupid, but she didn’t have a choice. “I order you to pronounce it for me.”

Scrope took a deep breath. “Master knows that Scrope’s French is most pitiful. But it is Toujours Pur.”

“Yes, of course.” She finally got the password. She waved at Scrope. “Now, off with you.”

“Of course, Master.” Scrope bowed before Disapparating.

Imelda took a deep breath, severely relieved. After a month of work and waiting, she could finally get to the third trial. She went out the way she came, and then once she was near the hourglasses, she went up the stairs to the Grand Staircase. Garreth, Sebastian, and Ominis weren’t here yet, but she figured because it wasn’t quite yet an hour.

She did notice one of those Arithmancy puzzle doors, though, that Andrew and Amit were looking at before. She stared at the strange symbols, trying to figure out the puzzle. She had time, after all…

~~~

The end of the hour was approaching, and after trial and error, she finally got the symbols right and opened the door. She sighed with relief and looked inside. It was more spacious than a broom closet, but not as big as a simple room. She stepped in nonetheless and waited as she closed the door.

She winced at feeling the hair start to grow out again, as well as the facial hair retract. Her spine was shrinking back to her normal height, and some of the clothes were feeling big on her again.

“I think this is the area,” she heard Sebastian’s muffled voice.

“I hope she found Scrope,” Ominis mused.

“I’m sure she did,” Garreth confidently said. “I guess we wait—”

She quickly opened the door and poked her head out. The three of them whirled to face her, looking like they all had minor heart attacks.

“Imelda,” Garreth exclaimed, putting a hand to his chest. Then he realized. “Wait, did you open this door?” He lit up, obviously impressed.

“Yes, yes I did, I had time to kill,” she urgently explained. She held out her hand. “Can I have my clothes, please?”

He shook his head and slipped the black bag off and handed it to her. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

As suddenly as she opened the door, she slammed it shut and instantly started to change as the rest of her body returned to normal. She sighed with relief to be back to herself, and wearing her uniform. She stuffed all of Black’s clothes and shoes and gloves back into the black bag and emerged out.

She thanked Sebastian as he gave back her school bag, slinging it across her body. “I got the password. Let’s go before Black comes back after being sloshed.”

They followed her lead and jogged up the Grand Staircase stairs all the way up to the Trophy Room.

“So, what was it like being Black?” Sebastian curiously asked.

“I want to strangle him,” she darkly said. “I ran into Isaac Cooper, Purus Malfoy, and Kogawa. All of them wanting to convince Black to bring back Quidditch.”

All of the boys sympathetically winced. “That had to have been awful,” Garreth said.

“It was. Also, Garreth, I’m sorry, I might have told your aunt to keep an eye on you.”

“Wut?”

“It just came out because she was asking about Fig, and I just mentioned you,” she helplessly explained. “So…I guess you should watch your back.”

“Gee, thanks,” he dryly said.

“Ooh, lovers’ tiff,” Sebastian teased.

“Shut it, Sebastian,” Imelda bit back.

“Ah, there’s the scolding I remember.” They made it to the gated doors leading up to the Headmaster’s Office. Sebastian tried opening them, but they didn’t budge. He nonchalantly took his wand out and tapped the lock. “Alohomora.”

The doors opened, and they all slipped through, running up the flight of stairs.

“I’ll say this: Imelda, you made my month,” Ominis remarked. His eyes brilliantly gleamed as he smiled brightly. “Finding out that infernal man has boils was like Christmas came early for me.”

Imelda snorted. “You’re welcome, then.”

They kept going higher and higher until they reached a golden statue of a gryphon. This had to be it. Imelda cleared her throat.

“Toujours Pur.”

Spiral stairs manifested and rose up, and Imelda didn’t hesitate to go up them, eager to get this done and over with.

“When I go and take the trial, you need to get out as soon as you can,” she reminded them.

“You’re talking to the most mischievous students of our year,” Sebastian said with a grin. “We’ll be fine.”

Imelda nodded and they all soon filed through the archway into the office. They all marveled at the place, none of them having been in here before. She didn’t want to waste time, though, and ignored the several portraits gawking at them, heading further into the office. Even the Sorting Hat didn’t say anything in his glass display.

She saw one ornate portrait, however, that was larger than all the other ones. Niamh Fitzgerald was standing in it, and she relaxed at spotting Imelda.

“It’s good to see you,” she said. Then her eyes moved to where Sebastian, Ominis, and Garreth joined Imelda. “And…I see you brought your friends.”

“Yes, they’re the ones I told you I let in on,” Imelda said.

Niamh hesitantly nodded. “As you know, the trial is only for you.”

“Of course. Where’s the trial? The Headmaster could be returning anytime soon.”

Niamh understood the urgency and didn’t waste time either. “Approach the pedestal in the antechamber and read the book that appears.”

Imelda lifted an eyebrows. “All of this…for a book,” she dryly remarked.

“As you know better than anyone, there is more to it than just a story,” Niamh gently reminded her.

She sighed heavily. “Alright. I’ll find this book.”

“I think I already found it!” Sebastian called out.

Of course Sebastian would, as he was the most avid reader Imelda knew. She, Ominis, and Garreth went up the winding stairs to the landing above the Headmaster’s desk. Sebastian marveled at a book that was floating over the stone pedestal. Golden particles emitted from it as the book opened in Imelda’s presence.

“What do you think is written in it?” Sebastian asked, full of wonder.

“I don’t know,” Imelda said. She tilted her head, and in the corners of her eyes, she saw Ominis, Sebastian, and Garreth curiously lean closer too. She tentatively reached out to pick it up.

“Wait, get your friends away from it!” Niamh tried to warn, but it was too late.

The book suddenly floated higher, and the ink from the words came out in black strands, surrounding all four of them. Ominis hurriedly leaped back, but he was kept beside them as the magical, black strands pulled them in.

“What the—?” Garreth yelled as he saw his hand start to turn into the same brushstroke strands as the ink around them.

Imelda looked at her hands doing the same thing, as well as Sebastian’s robes and Ominis’s wand.

She tried to grab the book to stop it, but she instead screamed as the rest of her turned into the same brushstrokes and was pulled into the book.

Sebastian, Ominis, and Garreth were given the same fate, and then the book slammed shut, falling onto the pedestal as if nothing happened.

Niamh put a hand to her head.

“Imelda, you must succeed in the trial, for your friends’ sakes…” She whispered.

Chapter Text

Imelda’s hands were still outstretched from reaching for the book. Her panic went away with shock replacing it as her hands looked like they were drawn. She gasped and turned them over, seeing her robe sleeves and even down to her shoes were all the same way. As if someone illustrated her.

She turned in a slow circle. Her surroundings were full of pure white, as if she were stuck in a pale abyss. Black flecks fluttered, even mildly swirling, around her. They gave the impression of ink splotches just floating in the air.

This was nothing like her past trials. She didn’t know what to expect, and that made her dread it all the more.

Then her gaze landed on Sebastian, Ominis, and Garreth, all of them shocked and even perturbed. They looked as hand-drawn as her, completely in black and white. Ominis was petrified, truly white as a sheet. Sebastian was moving his robes, gawking at the scribbled look of them. Garreth was staring at the black “snow” as he ran a hand through his dark gray hair. It was strange to see it as something other than flaming red.

Yes, this was certainly not like her past trials. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she realized it wasn’t only her life at risk now.

Her panic came out as she exclaimed to them, “What were you thinking, being that close to the book?”

“Like you knew what would happen?” Sebastian defensively shot back.

“No!”

He wildly gestured to the deceivingly serene area around them. “So what do we do?”

“I don’t know!”

She groaned into her hands. Her petty self wanted to pinch someone’s ear, but it wasn’t their fault. She didn’t know what the book would do, but she should have known it was dangerous for anyone other than her.

“Whoa, don’t look down,” Garreth warned.

Sebastian and Imelda did, and for once, Imelda felt a dreadful swooping sensation, worse than any stunts she did on her broom. This white abyss all around them was below them too. They weren’t on actual ground, so it gave the illusion that they could fall any second.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes so she didn’t become dizzy. She never thought she’d miss those first two trials where she was traversing through boring puzzles, blue stone architecture, and statues charmed to kill her.

“I’m at least relieved we still have our wands,” Ominis softly said.

Imelda checked on him to see he was holding onto his wand with a death grip. The tip wasn’t blinking red like usual. It was now a pale gray, nearly white light at the end of a black wand.

Her heart stopped beating as she noticed something else. “Wait…” She reached out to hold Ominis’s hand, turning it just slightly to see his thumb. Her breathing staggered as she knew she didn’t see it incorrectly. His thumb, while still looking illustrated, was resembling more of a skeletal bone than his actual skin and thumbnail. “Garreth, Sebastian, check your hands.”

The two did, and she saw as well that their thumbs were going through a strange transition of showing bone.

“What the bloody hell?” Sebastian asked, abhorred at what he was seeing. “Why are we turning into skeletons?”

Imelda turned her own hands over. They were still the same. She let out a short breath. “It must be because you’re not supposed to be here.” Worry coursed through her at the impending fate that was upon them.

Garreth looked between Sebastian and Ominis, and he ran a hand down his face. “Okay, so, we might be a little on a time crunch.” He earnestly met Imelda’s eyes with worry but also determination showing in his own. For a second, she thought she could see the green she knows so well instead of the pale gray they are now. “How do we—or rather, you—start this trial?”

Sebastian nodded, following Garreth’s drive. “Yes, if we can finish the trial, things should bring everything back to normal, right?”

“Otherwise, we will all be skeletons in this strange world of a book,” Ominis remarked with a waver in his dry tone.

The image of a clock ticking away popped into her head. Tick tock, she apprehensively thought.

“That’s not going to happen,” Imelda intensely told him. She turned around, looking into the open air. “Niamh! Just give me the bloody trial!” Her magic was impatiently flaring in her blood, in tune with her resolve, and she was ready to take down those ancient magic statues or whatever else this trial gave her.

“Imelda, this trial is different from the others,” Niamh’s voice hauntingly carried through the still, pale air. “You shall be witness to a fable. Pay attention; things are not always as they seem.”

“No kidding,” Imelda muttered. She knew that before, and while she was foolish to not think about her friends’ safety, she was determined to make sure they didn’t pay for the consequences.

Right before their eyes, a stone platform was scribbled right underneath them. Then more of the area was drawn in, showing dry grass, small cobblestone walls, and wicked thorns that reached high and curled past the walls. A bridge manifested before them, and they saw in the distance a hamlet.

“So we…go to that?” Sebastian asked, pointing to the town.

“No other option,” she pointed out. She rolled her shoulders back and led the way, going down the platform and across the bridge.

“You must move swiftly and cautiously. Use the tools you encounter to find me,” Niamh’s voice came through again. When all four of them approached the realistic hamlet, the Keeper added, “In this place, as in life, Death takes many forms. Avoid each of them at all costs.”

They all stopped at hearing something, and then they looked up to see an enormous skeleton in a black, hooded robe held onto the roofs of houses in his slender, bony hands. It was obvious with a plummeting stomach to them all that this was Death. Death searched the ground before slamming his hand down, scraping his fingertips against the ground. Black dust exuded from it, and from it were human-sized versions of Death. They watched as a villager man ran away from them, only to be slashed by one of Death’s Shadows and become black mist to dissipate into the air. Death disappeared afterward, no longer lurking under the unsettling illustrated sky.

“Disillusionment, now,” Imelda whispered. She casted it onto herself, and then she crept to the stacked crates. Her heart hammered against her chest as she peeked past the boxes at Death’s Shadows hunched over and searching the town.

She faintly heard dry grass rustling, and she saw over her shoulder three tricks-in-the-light. Mint was strong on her right while she caught the smell of driftwood on her left. The faintest smell of bergamot told her that Ominis was the furthest away from her on the left.

“So, we will get killed if we’re seen, good to know,” Garreth quietly remarked.

“Can’t fight Death, that’s for sure,” Sebastian muttered.

Imelda glared at the obstacle before them. Six of those Death imitators were in the center of the town, three on one side and three on the other.

“So, it’s about stealth.”

She was never one skilled in sneaking around. She didn’t really have to until this year when she had to sneak back to her common room after her adventure with Onai. And—she glanced at Garreth beside her with a faint blush—of course that one time with him…

“We just have to time it right,” Sebastian said. Even though she couldn’t see him, Imelda was certain he was grinning with confidence. “While prefects wouldn’t kill me at being caught, I’ve learned the mastery of sneaking past them.”

“Same here,” Garreth added.

“Me too,” Ominis said.

Imelda figured it made sense for them all; Sebastian frequently snuck into the Restricted Section, Ominis had his Undercroft, and then Garreth had his secret passage. Her fear for them dwindled with the reassurance that these three knew what they were doing. At least, as best as they could in this horrible place.

“Ominis, you can see those figures, right?” Imelda asked to make sure.

“Yes,” he faintly said. “I can tell where they’re at. I won’t be falling behind because of my disability.”

“Okay.” She watched Death’s Shadows carefully, and she blinked. “Their…backs are to each other.”

“Perfect, we need to go now, then,” Garreth whispered. She heard him rise to his feet, but still crouching. “Come on.”

“He’s right, now’s the time,” Sebastian chimed in.

Imelda sighed. A part of her felt stubborn in wanting to lead the way and be in charge. They were in here because of her, and she was the most experienced in these trials. But she had to admit they were more familiar with the necessary technique at the moment.

“Go,” she urged as she got up onto her feet.

Garreth went first, staying low as he ran right down the trodden path all the way to the other side of the town. She saw the trick in the light as he bent down to walk under a fallen beam.

Imelda felt fear trying to keep her hesitant and stay where she was, but she forced it aside as she made her feet move and dash to join him. Death’s Shadows were none the wiser, focused on the walls of homes as they searched the premises. She felt a hand, and she jolted with panic that she was caught, but her heart resumed beating after catching the minty smell again. Garreth’s hand held her arm and moved her to be behind him as he kept a look out for the other two.

Sebastian and Ominis came later, with the former expertly moving quick and low as if he’d done it tons of times. Ominis, however, moved a bit more cautiously, and Imelda didn’t know if it was because his sneaking was rusty or if his wand didn’t show him much anyway.

She only breathed easier once all four of them were back together, and she whispered for them to follow her down stairs that led them further into the hamlet.

She crept closer, then she heard a whimper behind her. She froze and saw a pasty, cowering villager with his back against the wall.

“I should have run when I could,” he miserably said to himself. “I would have been free by now…”

Imelda felt sick. As much as her mind desperately tried to insist this place wasn’t real and wouldn’t affect them, she knew that wasn’t the case.

She focused back on where they needed to go, and carefully jumped down. She moved out of the way as she heard three other thumps behind her. They went down a back road that wrapped around some homes, and she peeked around the last corner, seeing further ahead more of those malicious figures.

“We can get a little closer,” Garreth muttered. “See up there? Crates, so we should be able to have a better look.”

Imelda nodded and crept onward, heading right to the crates. The three boys were definitely not falling behind, as their footsteps padded on the cobbled path with hardly any distance from her own and each other’s. They crouched behind the crates and barrels, seeing through any gaps to get an idea of when to go.

“I think Ominis and I should go first,” Sebastian volunteered in a lowered voice. “There are more of them this time, and it seems like the window to pass through is smaller.”

“I don’t have to—”

“You haven’t had to sneak around as much as me recently,” Sebastian pointed out.

Ominis’s silence made Imelda believe he was upset to accept the harsh truth. She knew the feeling of not wanting to be seen as weak or vulnerable. She wondered how deep that went into Ominis’s own mindset.

“Fine,” he finally said.

“Then you two lovebirds can go after us,” Sebastian teased.

Garreth coughed into his fist.

Imelda elbowed Sebastian’s barely-seen side. He let out a small “oof”.

“Knock it off, Sebastian,” she scolded with a blush she was thankful no one could notice. “Get going.”

After a moment of careful watching, Sebastian deemed it the right time, and he nudged Ominis. Imelda watched the two faint outlines barely make it in between the two deadly search parties.

“What, er, what’s with Sebastian?” Garreth asked as they watched and waited for their opportunity.

Her ears were burning from excessive blushing. She didn’t think Sebastian and Ominis would notice something, but they had been teasing her about Garreth ever since the start of term. Did they see something (figuratively in Ominis’s case) she didn’t at first? She couldn’t say any of that to Garreth, though. He’d get the wrong idea and think she fancied him.

Which she did, but she shouldn’t.

…right?

She hastily said, “He’s probably just teasing me because I tease him about Estelle.”

Garreth only hummed before replying: “I see.”

She frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You’re acting differently, and I caught that detached tone. Believe me, I know how that sounds.”

“How would you know that sounds?”

“Don’t change the subject,” she retorted. She glared in his direction. Even though she couldn’t clearly see him, she barely saw the faint outline of his arm as he reached up to scratch the back of his head.

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” he muttered.

“Like what?”

“We have to go.”

“Stop changing the—”

“I’m serious. Now’s our chance,” he bit back.

Imelda suddenly remembered what they were supposed to be doing, and she saw he was right. Death’s Shadows had crossed over the path, having their backs to each other again. She made up for their lost time by sprinting right across.

“About time,” Sebastian snarked from her left. “Got distracted?”

Her face burned hot again. “Something like that.”

Heavy footsteps behind her told her Garreth rejoined them. “Everyone’s here?”

“Let’s get a move on,” Ominis insisted in an unnerved voice. “I’m feeling only bone in both of my hands.”

Imelda’s blood ran cold as she heard Sebastian and Garreth do the same. Her ears could only pick up the dreadful noise of scraping. She shuddered, realizing it was the sound of bone rubbing against bone.

“Down the stairs, go go go,” she whispered as she hurriedly gestured, even if no one could see the motions.

Bergamot, then driftwood, and mint passed her as she made sure they weren’t caught from behind.

They were nearing a cluster of barrels to hide behind when Garreth whispered, “just down the path, under the watermill.”

Imelda looked past the hunched backs of black robes to see a watermill that fell down, creating cover in the dried up creek. She couldn’t help but be impressed with Garreth’s sharp eagle eyes. He would be a formidable Seeker. Then her mind started to drift off to how he looked in a Quidditch uniform, and she panicked and walled up her mind as this wasn’t the time.

They waited until all of the freakish beings moved away from the path, then Garreth led them down into the creek. Once down there, Imelda deemed it safe enough for her to lead the way again. After all, if they somehow came across a threat, she was their best chance with her magic.

Garreth quickly grabbed her, though, and pulled her close to him. His arm easily and securely wrapped around her middle, enveloping her in his warmth and mint again. Her heart instantly raced, and a hard blush resurfaced.

“Garreth, what—?” She hissed.

He shushed her, though, and solemnly whispered, “Death.”

She looked ahead and her stomach flipped as she saw that enormous skeletal figure from the beginning appeared again. His hands grasped onto a cobbled bridge in front of them, and he turned his skull head, searching with the gaps of where the eyes should be. Unsatisfied, he went away in black mist again, and the four of them let out a collective breath.

“Onward,” Sebastian choked out. This was the scaredest Imelda ever heard him speak.

They continued on, though, through the creek and up the little hill as they were in another part of the town. Imelda saw the ladder leading to the second floor of a house and pointed it out to the boys as well. They all agreed that maybe they had a better chance if they were above the search parties.

Imelda was the first one and didn’t hesitate to climb up. She got on the soft, straw landing of the house’s roof, and she waited for the others. Ominis was next, and she grabbed his hand to help him up, shivering down her spine at personally feeling every bone. Ominis had just moved away when Imelda noticed the center of the area they were in emitting black mist. Death’s Shadows rose from the ground, clawing their way out.

Imelda cursed under her breath and said, “climb, climb, climb.”

“You saying it over and over doesn’t make me go faster,” Sebastian protested as he scrambled up the ladder. Imelda distractedly pulled him up and moved him aside.

She glanced at the skeleton figures walking around and then back down at the ladder. She heard the rungs being grabbed and faint noises of Garreth climbing up.

Imelda needed Garreth to make it without either of them being caught. She held out her hand, trying to blindly find his and help him like she helped the other two.

One of the figures snapped its head in their direction, and dread dropped into the pit of her stomach as it started walking toward the ladder.

No, no, no, she thought with panic.

“Garreth,” she whispered with her voice tight and full of fright. She grabbed air until her fingertips came across bone. She instantly grabbed it with desperation and tugged hard, hearing Garreth grunt from falling onto the straw roof when she practically dragged him.

The figure was still coming their way, and Imelda tried to find an escape, but Sebastian beat her to it.

“Down here, quick.”

Imelda didn’t hesitate to follow after Sebastian’s faint outline, and Garreth was right at her side. The four of them jumped down onto crates and then onto the back road of the town. They didn’t stop as they sprinted right through the narrow chance they immediately noticed. They stayed low as they were in a part with houses’ awnings casting gray shadows onto the pale trodden roads. There were a couple sentries in the area, but it was simple enough for them to wait and go past them. They followed the winding back road all the way down an alley unoccupied by Death's Shadows.

They couldn’t be complacent, however, as they all dug their heels into the ground to stop at seeing Death up ahead. He was searching again like a wolf trying to sniff out prey. Then three plumes of black smoke crashed down at the end of the alley. Three of Death’s Shadows emerged from it, and Imelda felt her heart be squeezed. Her magic was pulsating in her blood like crazy, desperate to be used to fight and save themselves. She knew it was a battle she wouldn’t win, though. Not like this.

“Go back,” Garreth said, and she felt him turn along with her hand being tugged. She turned to walk in pace with him, and she heard Sebastian and Ominis take long strides close by.

A crawling feeling up her spine told her they might have been seen. They needed to find a different way. Fast.

The back doors of a house burst open with black smoke coming out and stopping at the other end of the alley. They were going to be cornered from both sides.

Ominis whispered, “Get in the house, no one’s on the first floor.”

Imelda would have to thank his wand later for seeing more than they could as they quickly filed in when Death’s Shadow’s back was turned. Merlin, how would she have been able to do all of this on her own?

She should have picked up on Ominis’s wording, though, when they traversed up the old, drawn stairs to the second floor. She inhaled sharply at the walls being so run down that there was a gaping hole in it. They could see into the room—which had its roof ripped off of—and three Shadows were searching the nooks and crannies of it.

Ominis slowly walked first in the line around the corner and along the low wall. The other three carefully poked their heads above the wall to check on where the Shadows were. One started to turn to look their way, and they all instantly ducked down.

“I…can sense a bridge made of wooden beams connecting this house to another across the street,” Ominis murmured in an uneasy tone. He paused for a few seconds before adding, “I don’t like this.”

“What?” Imelda asked.

“Your wand is helping us plenty,” Sebastian pointed out.

“That’s the problem,” Ominis said. “My wand had never been able to sense things from that far away.”

“Do you think it has to do with us being in here for so long?” Garreth guessed in a gentle tone.

“Possibly.”

All four of them stiffened and pressed their backs against the wall when they heard hollow footsteps. Imelda closed her hands into fists, but her left hand was—

The footsteps were retreating, and Ominis urgently said, “Now’s our chance.”

They all got up and stayed crouching as they slunk through the doorway. They stayed in single file as they walked right behind all three Shadows and carefully crossed the wooden beams to the other side. Imelda saw Death further away, still looking around as if he knew there were more souls to claim, but he couldn’t find them yet.

They hurried down the little hallway of the vacant house, and then down the stairs to the ground floor. There were no apparent threats, so Imelda warily breathed easier. Now that she had a moment—just one—to relax, she noticed that her left hand was still holding…Garreth’s hand. Despite feeling skeletal fingers and what that meant for his fate, her heart was still managing to pound less against her ribs. Despite all of her resisting, his presence and touch still calmed her down, more than just a friend would. Despite her desperation…she couldn’t keep from feeling a certain way about Garreth.

She forced herself to let go of Garreth’s hand. She couldn’t come to terms with her turmoil right now; it wouldn’t do her any good to have resolve if she loses him and Ominis and Sebastian to this wretched trial.

So she started looking around for any way out of this mess and noticed something in a courtyard just outside the house they were in.

She did a quick once over of their premises before carefully approaching the slightly-raised stone platform. There were stone pillars on each corner, and in the middle was a cloak floating in the air. It was the only thing of this trial that made her feel…reassured. When they were all within arm’s length of it, the cloak started to emit a comforting light.

Imelda reached out and grabbed a fistful of the fabric. Right before their eyes, it grew to be as large as a quilt, and a warm magic pulsed from it. Her eyebrows twitched as she sensed her own magic thrumming in response.

She followed her instincts and dropped her Disillusionment charm.

“What are you doing?” Sebastian incredulously exclaimed.

Imelda ignored him and simply threw the cloak over her shoulders. Ominis drew in a breath, and she felt like Garreth and Sebastian were gaping at her.

“An Invisibility Cloak?” Garreth uttered, and he dropped his own Disillusionment. His eyes were wide with awe as he looked her up and down.

Imelda did the same and saw that her body really was gone. There was no flicker or trick in the light like before.

Sebastian and Ominis slowly dropped their spells too, and Imelda realized what they were supposed to do. She surveyed each of the boys before turning to Garreth.

“You’re the tallest,” she said, taking the cloak off from around her and holding it out to Garreth.

He stared at it, and then at her before darting his eyes at the two Slytherins. Understanding dawned on his face, and he took the cloak and covered his entire back before bending over just a little. He held up corners of it as if they were wings of his.

“Come on,” he said mostly to Sebastian and Ominis.

Ominis lifted an eyebrow and grimaced. “You expect us all to fit under there?”

“We don’t really have time to argue,” Garreth pointed out.

Sebastian shrugged and moved in, bowing his head to stand on Garreth’s right. Ominis sighed and trudged into the mass, ducking to stand on the other side of the red head. Imelda was the last to join, moving to stand in front of all three of them.

Once she was in position, Garreth draped the rest of the cloak to fall over right in front of her. She could still see their surroundings, though, and took a deep breath, picking up the strange mixed scent of all three young men’s colognes.

Cautiously, they began to slowly walk through the small courtyard to the gated doors on the other side. They magically swung open, and they followed the path that winded around back to the same alley they were in before.

Imelda was reassured when she wasn’t the only one breathing uneasily as they neared a few Death’s Shadows. They did their best to trudge through, occasionally knocking into each other’s feet and ankles, but they managed to go through unseen.

At the end of the alley, Death was still overlooking the corner they had to round. The hairs on the back of Imelda’s neck rose as she sensed Death’s gaze roam right over them. They all seemed to have collectively held their breaths as they had to walk an agonizingly slow pace right under Death’s (figurative) nose.

Once they went around the corner, Imelda saw up ahead the same kind of stone platform with the pillars. Her heart leapt, hoping that they’d be safe once they reached it.

It took all of her willpower to stay patient and walk the same careful pace instead of bolting for what was hopefully a sanctuary.

The second all four sets of feet stepped onto that platform, the hamlet and strange environment slowly erased. They instantaneously straightened when they felt the weight of the cloak disappear from on top of their heads. Everything from the cobbled paths and the tall grass, as well as the rubbled buildings went away and they were back to standing in the eerie white void with black flakes fluttering around them.

Imelda focused on breathing more easily, feeling like they were finally no longer in danger. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and her blood was strongly pulsing like never before.

Then another platform like the other ones materialised a few yards in front of them. Something was floating in the air like the cloak did, even emitting the same, stark but comforting light.

“You have outrun Death thus far, but have yet to find me. Keep searching, but this time you will be unable to hide,” Niamh’s voice calmly said in the dead silence.

Imelda was really wishing what they managed to accomplish was the entire trial, so to say she was disappointed was an understatement. Nonetheless, she took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders back.

“Onward,” she said, like when Sebastian said it earlier.

They walked up to the new stone square, and saw the floating object was a wand with prominent knobs along the wood. Imelda flinched at seeing brushstrokes of ink swirling around their feet.

“Wield the wand you see before you,” Niahm instructed. “Do not squander its extraordinary power.”

Imelda stared at the wand for a moment before securing hers in her pocket and carefully grabbing this new one. The instant her fingers curled around the knobby wood, the magic in her blood surged through her, feeling hot as fire but as strong as a river’s current.

She turned her hand and flicked her wrist, getting used to the strange and new feeling of this wand. Their surroundings became illustrated to show them in the middle of ruins of a courtyard. The only way out was a stone arch that was blocked by rubble.

Garreth, Ominis, and Sebastian turned to her with nearly synchronized head tilts of curious expectancy.

She lifted the wand and pointed the end at the pile of rubble. “Depulso.”

With only an utter of the spell, not only was the pile blown miles away, but so was a massive chunk of the structured wall surrounding the arch. The four of them flinched at the enormous destruction, and Imelda looked down at the wand.

“What in the—?”

“Was that your ancient magic?” Garreth asked, looking at her with a gobsmacked look.

“No,” she answered with genuine confusion. Sure they were only seeing everything in black and white, but there was no glow at the tip of the wand. “My magic doesn’t do that either.”

“So how did—?” Sebastian started to ask before they saw more plumes of black smoke fly through the distant land ahead of them.

Imelda led the way this time, holding the wand as carefully as she could. She worried if she moved it just wrong, it would blow them to smithereens.

“We can’t hide this time, remember?” Ominis quietly asked.

Sebastian whipped out his own wand as they slowly traversed through the ruins of this new town. “I prefer fighting anyway.”

Imelda was still unnerved by the sight of such a desolated hamlet. Maybe it was the way they were drawn, or maybe it was the fact there was no sign of life—even the trees looked decayed and shrivelled up—that made it so foreboding.

They reached the center where the dirt path wound around a singular, ash-black, rotting tree. They looked around, staying on guard for any of those underlings of Death. Imelda stared the bone digits of their fingers holding their own wands. With them all Disillusioned and focused on being unseen, she forgot how this trial was affecting them.

Tick tock

She followed her gut and strode down the path that went toward a castle. As they neared it, more trails of black smoke wrapped around the castle, but a few came down onto the ground before them.

The four of them prepared, having their wands at the ready. Death’s Shadows emerged from the ground, but Imelda was at least reassured they weren’t instantly killed like they probably would have been if they were caught before.

Five of the Shadows approached them, and Imelda instantly casted, “Glacius!”

A bolt of ice plunged into the chest of the first Shadow, forcing it to become an ice sculpture before it exploded into piercing shrapnel. The shards of ice embedded into the other Shadows, each of them meeting the same fate as the first.

Imelda gaped at the path in front of them no longer being blocked or guarded, and she peeked over her shoulder. Ominis’s eyes were wide while his eyebrows were dug in with incredulity. Garreth’s jaw was dropped, and his gaze showed how impressed and shocked he was. Sebastian was incredibly nonplussed, and he stared at Imelda with respect.

Then he said with emphasis as he slammed the side of his hand into his palm, “You need to use other spells aside from Control Spells.”

Imelda huffed. “I just decimated five enemies, and you’re still lecturing me?”

He frowned at her. “You know Quidditch. I know duelling. Remember what the Keeper said: do not squander this wand’s power.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine.” She started marching into the castle. “Let’s get this over with.”

They jogged into the bailey of the castle, but they couldn’t do more than have a quick look around the ruins before more foes manifested around them. Death’s Shadows and their little pet mongrels that exuded black mist started to surround them.

Sebastian used his favorite spell on the mongrel in front of him.

“Confringo!”

The mongrel breathed out a raspy, unearthly growl as the pale grey flames licked its smoking fur. It was still standing, but at least it was wounded in a way.

“Imelda, any chance I could borrow that wand of yours?” Sebastian asked before he hurriedly dodged a narrow line of razor-sharp light a Shadow casted from its skeleton hand. The ground behind him burst from the impact of the attack.

She let out a sharp breath as she casted Protego, hardly hearing Sebastian with her magic thunderously ringing in her ears. The shield bubble was large enough to wrap around all four of them and successfully made the Shadow’s spells bounce off and hit their casters. They all went down, and the mongrels barked out a vengeance.

Ominis Depulso’d a charging mongrel, and although it looked to have worked, the mongrel slowly got back up onto its paws.

“I think our best move is to just slow down or wound them and let Imelda finish them off,” Garreth said before he used Diffindo. The slashed mongrel turned its head from the impact before snarling with a gashed muzzle.

“But Imelda—” “I know,” she harshly said to Sebastian’s protest as the last of the enemies went away.

She searched the premises. Where were they supposed to go or were they supposed to stay here?

Her question was answered for her when they saw the stone arch entrance of the castle be dispelled of black mist, showing the way further inside.

“This way,” she directed, riding on the confidence the wand gave her. They followed her lead, all of them just eager to get this done and over with.

They had to climb up stairs as well as pull themselves up onto the next set of stairs when part of them were gone. But as they made it to the next floor, Garreth stumbled on his feet.

“What’s with you?” Sebastian asked before he trailed off and looked at his shoes.

“What?” Imelda instantly questioned.

Ominis stiffened as well. “Our feet are bone too.”

Imeld’s heart plunged as Garreth took his shoe off, confirming her fear. No socks or skin. Just pale bones.

Tick tock.

She started wildly looking around the vast courtyard, needing to find Niamh. She gritted her teeth. If after everything, she lost them all to this bloody trial, she was going to commit arson on those portraits.

This was about combat, though. She knew who to trust to get the job done.

She held the wand out to Sebastian. “Take it. You’re the best dueller out of all of us.”

His eyes were bright as fire, obviously excited to try the new, powerful wand. He eagerly took it from her hands, but his delight instantly dwindled. The wand seemed to have darkened in his hold.

“Did you feel a difference when you held it?” Sebastian asked as he made a swishing motion.

“I did. You don’t?”

“Nothing.” He pointed the wand at the center of the courtyard. “Confringo!”

The wand didn’t even give a spark.

Sebastian was so offended he looked like he was about to snap the wand in half.

“Let me try,” Garreth offered.

The Slytherin hesitated for a moment before giving it to him. Imelda curiously watched for a difference, but the wand was still nearly black in Garreth’s skeleton hands.

Garreth cocked his head as if he were trying to figure out one of his potion innovations, and then he waved it in Imelda’s direction, “Accio.”

Imelda expected herself to be forced toward him, but there was nothing. Not even a lean in his direction.

Ominis sighed heavily as Garreth gave him the wand. He grimaced as he held it, which was still dark. “I don’t know why we’re bothering anymore.”

“Just give it a try,” Sebastian insisted with crossed arms.

Ominis rolled his eyes and boredly casted, “Lumos”.

No light, no flicker, nothing emitted from the wand’s tip.

Imelda begrudgingly accepted the wand back, and it brightened from her touch. Her magic was back to being as powerful as the first time she held the wand. She had to admit that she felt rather invincible while wielding the wand.

“That’s what I feared,” Sebastian muttered. He had a reluctant accepting look on his freckled face. “Since this is a trial for your ancient magic, it makes sense that the wand only works for you.”

Imelda figured that was it, but it was still disappointing. She knew she wasn’t as capable in fighting as Sebastian. Sure, she dealt with more enemies than him, but his techniques were versatile than hers. She remembered how many practice duels she lost to him in the past month or so.

There was a pang in her chest as she looked up at the three boys. What if she messed up and couldn’t protect them? What if she did squander this powerful magic?

They all seemed to have sensed her worries as sympathetic looks were etched on their faces.

“If need be, I can help you about which spells are best,” Sebastian offered.

Ominis nodded. “We can be part of making the enemies weaker too,” he said, but his voice wasn’t one of confidence.

“That’s right, we’re all in this trial, and we’re going to help you in any way we can,” Garreth earnestly told her with a daring grin.

She fought a smile, feeling a rush of warmth from their words and also from Garreth’s grin. Despite fear coursing through her veins about her friends’ safety, she was still glad she didn’t have to face this trial alone.

Ominis’s expression turned grim, and he held tightly onto his wand. “Something massive is coming—”

Thud. Thud.

Imelda whirled around. Death was directly across the courtyard from them, holding onto the edge of it as he towered over the floor. Despite his skull face staying like so permanently, she couldn’t help but think he was sneering at them.

Then he struck the ground with his hands, making it quake, and more black smoke came from the motions. More mongrels and Shadows came out along with…

“Of bloody course,” Imelda muttered as they saw a troll made of the same material manifest before them.

“When the troll slams its club down, use Flipendo,” Sebastian instantly told her before using Arresto Momentum to slow down a few charging mongrels.

Imelda took advantage and used Diffindo. A row of three horizontal slashes went through the air and sliced the mongrels dead.

“You want me to be close enough where it could squash me?” Imelda dubiously asked.

“You’ve got the most powerful wand in probably the entire world! You can stand to take a couple risks!”

Imelda huffed and noticed a Shadow getting too close to Ominis, who was occupied by keeping another mongrel at bay. She pointed the wand at the Shadow and shouted, “Descendo!”

The Shadow was forced harshly into the ground, the impact sending out tremors that made Ominis have to regain balance.

“Be careful where you cast!”

“You’re welcome,” she snippily replied.

“Fine, yes, thank you,” he said with an air of impatience before focusing on more of their enemies.

It felt like they dealt with hundreds when it was realistically dozens. She didn’t bother arguing when Sebastian would suddenly bark out whether to use a Control, Force, or Damage Spell. She just instantly listened and managed to effectively make Shadows helplessly float before bringing them crashing down with the combination of Levioso and Descendo.

Imelda managed to remember Sebastian’s advice when the troll charged at her and slammed its club down at her. She barely jumped and rolled away before casting Flipendo at the club. It instantly hurled up back into its face and fell backward from the powerful impact. It didn’t get back up and misted away into the air.

Death, who was pacing this entire time, slammed his hands onto the ground as if he felt cheated. She couldn’t defeat death, though, right?

She sighed when Death brought forth more trolls. This was now just becoming more of a nuisance than anything.

“Incendio when they get in range,” Sebastian instructed as three trolls started charging right at them.

Imelda stood in front of her friends and stared hard at the oncoming enemies. She held up the wand, timing it with her hand-eye coordination like she would in a Quidditch match. She knew the range of her spell and just needed to wait for the right time.

A flicker in the corner of her eye made her look away, though. Her heart stopped beating as she saw Death tried to pull one over on her. They were so focused on the ones in front of them where Death was, they didn’t pay as much mind to anything behind them.

About ten Death’s Shadows were creeping up, with one aiming a long, bony finger at Garreth.

Every fiber of her being was screaming for her to stop that Shadow from even trying to harm—

“Imelda!” Sebastian shouted as the trolls were coming closer.

In the next few crucial seconds, she didn’t know what to do. Her breathing was already quickening from her anxious state, and her booming heartbeat rivalled the sounds of massive footsteps of the trolls. She couldn’t hesitate, but what was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to attack first?

Tick Tock.

Her magic sang through her blood, and she looked down at the tip of the wand. Radiant, pure white light from her hand twined around the wand, which was now shaking from immense power.

Don’t squander it, a voice internally whispered to her.

Imelda raised the wand to point skyward and storm clouds billowed above them, making the illustrated sky darker. For once, she felt like this wand would heed her wish as she thought, I’m not losing anyone.

She swung the wand down, and numerous bolts of lightning cascaded down all around them. Her lightning sought out and struck every and all enemies in front and behind them. Thunder intensely roared at the storm she unleashed, and she saw to her left Ominis even put his hands over his ears to muffle the noise.

She glared daringly at Death, who stopped his pacing and glowered at her. Her fight-or-flight response was making her heart race, but she stood her ground and didn’t look away.

You’ll have to go through me if you want them.

She didn’t know if her thoughts made a difference as the figure of Death turned and walked away, disappearing without a trace.

Imelda panted, for once not feeling exhausted or drained after using her ancient magic. The wand was still immensely humming in her hand, ready to fight more. She believed this part of the trial was over, though.

“Is everyone alright?” She asked, checking on her team.

Sebastian let out a sharp breath and ran a skeleton hand through his hair. “I thought you wouldn’t stop them in time.”

“I hesitated,” she said with bitterness aimed at herself. She glanced at Garreth as he understood what she meant.

“Er, thanks,” he said as he scratched the back of his head. “I should have watched our backs.”

“Not necessarily,” Ominis interjected in his soft tone. “My wand probably sensed it, but I was solely focused on those trolls.”

“They’re all gone now, so no need to cast any blame or anything,” Imelda dismissed. She allowed herself to smile a little as she added, “But that was my ancient magic.”

Garreth chuckled and looked at her with fascination and awe. “It was like Thunderbrew! But the lightning was more exact and perfectly hit each enemy!” He exclaimed. He smiled brightly at her as he faintly said, “It was brilliant.”

Disillusionment couldn’t hide her blushing this time, which probably made her cheeks look grey. A different warmth enveloped her, rivalling the magic in her blood, but it was one she always experienced in Garreth’s company. She couldn’t deny the reason, and she stopped trying to.

“Thank you,” she quietly said, looking up at him. It was almost like a flicker, but she believed she did see the sea green in his eyes. It was riveting how Garreth gave her a fiery heat but his eyes juxtaposed that sentiment. She wanted to drown in them, she thought with a pining and pounding heart.

Sebastian loudly cleared his throat and broke Imelda out of her trance. She couldn’t believe she forgot where they were for a moment!

“Ancient magic trial?” He dryly asked with intrigue and amusement shining in his eyes. “Timely matter of us nearly turning into skeletons?”

“O-of course,” she replied before turning around, hiding her burning-hot cheeks from them. She noticed an archway that had black mist dispelled from it. She coughed and headed over to it. “This way.”

Imelda kept staring straight ahead as the three of them followed her. She knew Sebastian and Ominis wouldn’t let this go. They were probably going to needle her for answers as she failed to hide the fact something did happen between her and Garreth.

It was going to be a long day…

They came across another platform, and like before, they stood on it. The wand disappeared from Imelda’s hand, along with the feeling of being powerful. Sure her ancient magic could make her feel that way, but the wand was a vessel that helped enhance it. Her fingers curled into a fist as she reminded herself that this was only a trial and that she would have never been able to keep the wand.

Their surroundings went away back to the white void for a moment. Then a new platform materialised, and they knew the drill. They walked up to it and saw a stone was floating in the air this time. It was smooth, like one plucked from a river, and when Imelda held it, it was like a pebble in her palm.

Again, the area changed, but this time, stone block walls were built around them. There was a winding path with the stone walls acting like a labyrinth for them. But Imelda believed she saw it open up to a more vast area beyond.

Niamh’s voice came through again. “You are far from finished. Pass through the mourners ahead. Nothing is what it seems.”

They didn’t even make it that far off the platform before Sebastian shouted “I’m an idiot!”

The other three jumped from his outburst and turned to him. He had a look of excited disbelief as he had a hand to his forehead.

He was teeming with eagerness as he listed off, “An invisibility cloak, a powerful wand, and now a stone for mourners?” He passionately gestured to the stone. “These are all from The Tale of Three Brothers!”

Every single one of them grew up with Tales of Beedle the Bard, so they instantly knew what Sebastian was referring to. Imelda inspected the stone in her hand.

“You’re saying this is the Resurrection Stone?” She asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Of course! And Death was a crucial part of the story too. It makes too much sense.”

Imelda remembered the fates of the three brothers. Only the brother with the cloak properly escaped death until he passed away. Were they supposed to reflect the brothers, then?

They kept walking as Sebastian mused, “You know, my parents believed that the Deathly Hallows were real.”

“That’s a myth,” Ominis rebuked. “There’s no way these objects exist in real life.”

“Imelda just handled all three!”

“Technically,” Garreth piped up, “we’re in a book created for a trial. Niamh did say this is a fable.”

Sebastian huffed. “Don’t you think it’s possible that out of all the magical objects out there, these are real too?”

Imelda sighed when they were approaching the open area of a crypt graveyard. “I’ll say it’s possible, Sebastian. Considering I have ancient magic that’s been around for many centuries, anything could happen.”

That answer pleased Sebastian, making him walk with his chest puffed out with pride.

They heard mourners mention Niamh, and she was dumbfounded. Niamh was dead? She knew she had to have since her lifetime was centuries before Imelda’s, but when she caught another villager say Niamh was “so young”, Imelda believed her death was more untimely.

A chill went through her. Was Isidora the cause of her death? Was that what Niamh meant by things not being what they seemed?

They came to the end of the path of the graveyard, and Death was lurking above a small mausoleum. Death saw them and disappeared again, leaving them alone with someone laying perfectly still on a crypt.

As they approached the person, the graveyard went away to show the crypt was now in the center of another stone platform with the pillars. Upon a closer look, they did see it was in fact Niamh lying on the crypt.

Imelda stared at the lifeless form of her, and with Sebastian’s new insight, she knew what to do with the stone. She turned it in her hand three times, and a soft glow came from the stone before the faint light traveled over to Niamh. The light went to her heart and sank into it.

They waited with bated breath, and the woman blinked open her eyes. She moved to sit up, and she gave the four of them a respectful, small smile.

“You found me,” she said before her expression turned grim. “But you cannot undo what’s been done. The magic of the stone can only conjure a shadow of my former self.”

Sebastian made a noise against his hand, clearly thinking about how this was something mentioned in the fable.

Niamh moved to stand off of the crypt, and everything illustrated the structures Imelda was more familiar with. There were spiral pillars just like the other trials had, created from ancient magic. Ahead of the path Niamh was now escorting them down was a massive statue of herself like what Imelda saw in the past trials.

The Keeper looked over her shoulder at them. “But there is no light without shadow as there is no shadow without light. Simply because you can eliminate darkness does not always mean that you should.”

Garreth leaned close to Imelda and whispered, “Are they normally this vague?”

Imelda smiled at feeling validated in her frustrations and impatience with the Keepers. “You have no idea.”

Niamh brought them up to the statue of herself where her head was leaned over a small basin. She stopped a fair distance away and gestured toward the object.

“Remember what I said as you witness my memory.”

Imelda took charge and went right up to the Pensieve. She waited for the boys to join her, and they all watched as the statue of Niamh shed a white tear. The drop splashed into the Pensieve, and from it came an intertwining wisp of shining ancient magic. She felt relieved that they seemed to notice the remnant of ancient magic floating above the Pensieve. She collected it like she had with the other ones and stored it safely away in her robes.

Now, they were all standing around the Pensieve, wondering what came next.

Imelda took a deep breath. She honestly didn’t know what was going to be shown to them. She told them what had happened before, but she had no idea which direction these memories were going.

She saw some of the skin on their necks was going away to reveal bone, and that spurred her on to have this trial come to an end. For their sake.

“Just do what I do,” she told them before carefully holding the rim of the basin and lowering her face into the silvery, cloudy water.

Garreth, Sebastian, and Ominis followed her lead, and the four traveled in wisps of smoke into the world of Niamh’s memories…

Chapter Text

The silver-blue clouds dispersed, revealing a trodden path in front of Imelda, with the Hogwarts castle in the distance ahead of her. She heard faint groaning, and she checked on her tagalongs.

Ominis had a hand up to his mouth as if to keep from retching. Garreth was pinching the bridge of his nose, and Sebastian had a hand to his head.

“I forgot there’s a sensation from jumping into a memory,” she apologetically told them. “It goes away eventually.”

Ominis took a deep breath and then he blinked in surprise. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, and Imelda noticed his wand wasn’t blinking red.

“I can’t sense anything,” he said to confirm her assumption.

“Guess you’ll have to put your listening ears on,” Sebastian playfully remarked and Ominis glared in the direction of his voice. He stared curiously at the castle before turning to Imelda. “Now what?”

“We just have to watch and pay attention,” she answered.

“Then where is the Keeper and Isidora?” Garreth asked.

Imelda searched her right and didn’t find anything. She looked to the left and perked up at finding the mentioned women coming their way. She pointed at them, and the boys grew quiet. Sebastian watched intently as if he didn’t want to miss a second of this conversation.

Niamh had her hands behind her back as she walked side by side with Isidora. She regarded the young professor with an impressed, faint smile.

“Isidora, what you’ve done for your father was remarkable.”

She excitedly turned to the headmistress with an eager grin. “Wasn’t it? And Percival needn’t worry about the strands of emotion or the traces this magic leaves. I’ve found a way to contain all of it.”

Imelda stiffened at the wording. Sebastian wasn’t far behind, voicing her thoughts.

“All of it?” He echoed, more to himself than anyone else.

Niamh slowed to a stop and warily watched Isidora move to stand in front of her. “You haven’t stopped,” she said with slight incredulity.

Isidora proudly continued with her revelation, “goblin silver.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose as Niamh reproachfully asked, “You spoke to a goblin about this?”

Isidora dismissively waved it away as she reassured her, “Don’t worry! He has no idea what we’re containing.”

“Because goblins are trustworthy, right, Sebastian?” Ominis dryly asked.

“Not now,” Sebastian sharply said as he kept watching the scene unfold. Imelda wondered what was going through his head, but she could only guess.

Garreth merely stayed quiet with crossed arms as they kept watching.

“We don’t know what effect any of this may have,” Niamh fretted. “The emotions, the Dark traces—”

Isidora harshly scoffed. “You sound like Percival!” She sounded annoyed and even betrayed. Her eyes hardened with misguided confidence. She earnestly continued, “And, as it happens, I do know! It is a source of strength, of focus. Somehow, it enhances my ability to wield magic!”

Imelda was starting to grow unnerved by Isidora’s smile. It looked…manic in a way hidden from naive excitement.

Niamh cautiously said, “I don’t follow, Isidora.”

Isidora stepped closer to Niamh, with the gleam in her eyes growing sharper. “I think we can harness it.”

“Power like this is not to be toyed with.” Niamh put her hands together as if to try to reason with her. “In the wrong hands—”

“You saw what I did for my father!” Isidora exclaimed. She calmed down to try to placate and persuade. “Oh, Niamh. Imagine the good we could do. Everyone is in some kind of pain.”

Anne came to Imelda’s mind instantly, and from the way Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed, it was the same for him.

Then Garreth, Sebastian, and Imelda’s mouths fell agape as they watched Isidora preemptively extend her wand to Niamh’s sternum. The headmistress even flinched, starting to recoil from it.

“What’s happening?” Ominis asked, not having heard more conversation.

“Isidora is…taking part of Niamh’s pain,” Imelda explained in disbelief.

“What are you doing?” Niamh asked, even batting Isidora’s wand away before hovering her hand over her sternum.

Isidora didn’t pay mind, though, simply lifting the tip of her wand closer to herself. Imelda watched the swirls of dark gray mixing with red. Pain. She thought about the glowing red armor of the troll, the same armor those goblins wore. Was their armor deriving from this ancient magic that was full of pain, then? But how did they find such sources?

Her thinking ceased as she watched Isidora bring the strands close to her mouth and…

“Dear Merlin, she ate the pain,” Sebastian said in a small voice.

“Breathe it in,” Isidora told Niamh with a relaxed smile and closed eyes, clearly reveling in what she inhaled. She let out a small breath and asked, “Can you feel it?”

She stared up at her wand with reverence, as if it held all the answers she was looking for. Or even…all the power she’d been seeking…

Niamh stared at her, horrified. “Oh, Isidora.” She shook her head. “This must stop. All of it,” she tried to get through to her.

Isidora looked affronted before she stoutly replied, “You’ve kept this power to yourselves for so long because you fear it.” She lifted her chin. “I choose to embrace it.”

Niamh’s gaze held so much concern before she closed her eyes and shook her head again.

Isidora sighed, disappointed, and she took long strides away from her headmistress. Niamh was left watching her leave before looking down at her sternum where her fingers lingered. Her eyebrows furrowed with worry over what Isidora was doing, and what she would do next.

A pulling sensation forced Imelda and the others away, everything fading to murkiness as they went skyward.

They all lifted their heads from the Pensieve, each sharing an expression of disbelief. Imelda was mainly relieved to see they weren’t in that black and white storybook anymore. She looked them over, and her heart calmed down from seeing her friends weren’t turning into skeletons anymore.

Sebastian realized they were somewhere new, and he marvelled at the strange architecture. Imelda was used to the walls of twisted stone and golden decorations with cressets of blue-white flames. And of course the glassy arch that would bring them out of here.

Sebastian recognized it, and he walked toward it. He put a hand on the surface, but he wasn’t transported anywhere.

Garreth tilted his head. “What are you doing, Sebastian?”

“Imelda and I found one of these before,” he explained. “It’s our way out.”

“I think it only works once I touch it,” she added as she went over there. “Come on, Garreth, Ominis, put your hand on the glass.”

There was a strange look in Garreth’s eyes before he followed her instruction, and Imelda was confused. Why did he seem displeased?

She made sure all three of them had a hand on the glossy surface before she extended her hand out. Pressing her palm onto it caused another swooping sensation in her, and in the blink of an eye, they were in the Map Chamber.

The corners of her mouth twitched to a tiny smile as she saw the three boys gape at their surroundings. The vast blue room with tall, open arches revealing the cavern they were in. More cressets full of blue-white fire lit the chamber, and there were the tell-tale spiral pillars made from ancient magic.

Imelda led them to the center, where she’d stood many times over the years. The floor rippled from her footsteps, and the blank surface changed into the starry map she was familiar with.

“Okay, this blows my place out of the water,” Garreth said in awe, only for Imelda to hear.

She chuckled and turned to him, glad to see him staring around with wonder instead of displeasure. “You don’t know that; I’ve yet to see the rest of it.”

He turned to her with a curious shine in his sea green eyes. “You want to see it?”

She shrugged. “Why not?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” he reasoned with a chuckle. “It’s not much.”

But it’s your place, she thought but didn’t have the guts to say, especially not in front of Sebastian and Ominis. “Still,” she said instead, “I would like to explore more of it sometime.”

Garreth softly smiled, and she reveled in the warmth she felt in her chest at the sight. “Okay, sometime, then.”

“I’m glad to see you and your friends made it out unscathed, Imelda,” Niamh said.

They all turned to the enormous wall of four elaborate portraits. Imelda naturally frowned, remembering how often she was annoyed and impatient with these Keepers. She looked expectantly at the last portrait on the right.

“Let me talk to them first,” she told the boys. Sebastian and Garreth exchanged glances while Ominis simply lifted an eyebrow.

A man in blue robes and turban walked out while clasping his hands. “Is it true? Has someone completed the first three trials?”

Then he noticed the group, and he instantly went on guard. “What is this?”

“My little entourage,” Imelda remarked. She gestured to each one as she introduced them: “This is Sebastian, Ominis, and Garreth.” She crossed her arms. “You’re San Bakar, right?”

San looked at her reproachfully. “These trials are meant to be kept secret for only the wielder of—”

“Then you would have been screwed because I wouldn’t have gotten through this last trial without them,” she stoutly said. “I presume you’ll be telling me my next trial won’t be until next year.”

“Considering you’ve already made this far, I don’t see how that’s unreasonable.”

“But the goblins—” Sebastian started, and San focused on him.

“Goblins?” He echoed.

“Yes, San,” Percival said as he turned to him, “apparently goblins have been looking into our repositories. There seems to be a goblin intending to lead a war against wizardkind with this power.”

San’s eyebrows furrowed, obviously concerned. He looked back at Imelda. “Even so…I fear you do not yet understand the responsibility of power.”

Irritation riled Imelda up and she glared at him. “After seeing what Isidora did—inhaling power—it makes me wish I didn’t have this bloody magic in the first place.” She knew she had more of an audience at this time, but she wanted to get through the portrait. “I never asked for this different magic, nor did I want to keep doing these trials. But I don’t want this power to go into the wrong hands. Tell me where this next trial is so we can stay ahead of them.”

San hesitated before clasping his hands. “I understand this burden you carry, but the knowledge you shall gain after you witness my memories is too valuable to share without further consideration.” He looked at his fellow portraits. “I shall require time to confer with the other Keepers.”

Imelda refrained from giving attitude, trying to have more patience. Part of it was about the fact she had three others with her, but also…it was only the end of September. As far as she knew, they still had a massive head start.

She sighed and turned to the boys. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Sebastian said with a hand out to stop her. He regarded the Keepers with a solemn expression. “Isidora taking away pain…is that only for emotional pain? Or can it be physical pain?”

Recognition dawned on Charles Rookwood’s face. “You’re the one Imelda talked to us about, with your sister.”

San didn’t know what they meant, but he stayed quiet to observe.

“Yes, Anne,” Sebastian earnestly affirmed. “Does that mean having Imelda take away her physical pain would lead to the same repercussions?”

“It’s not like I’d take it away and just inhale it then and there,” Imelda protested. Garreth snorted beside her, and Ominis fought a smile.

“To answer your question, Sebastian,” Niamh said in a grim tone, “we do not know if it would be the exact same.”

“I would advise,” San spoke up as Sebastian opened his mouth, “for you to not experiment.”

“Why not?” Garreth curiously asked. Imelda covered her mouth with her hand; of course the one that experiments the most would question San’s advice.

San gave him a hard look. “You do not know all of the consequences of such magic and power.”

“You could just tell us,” Ominis pointed out in a bored tone.

“Tried to convince them of that before,” Imelda added.

“Just because you can does not mean you should,” Niamh firmly said. “We hoped that seeing Isidora do just that would warn you from doing the same.”

“Surely emotional and physical pain is different, though,” Sebastian insisted. He put his hands together as if he were pleading to them. “I’m running out of options and solutions. I cannot lose my sister too.”

The Keepers at least looked at him with sympathy, and Imelda felt a pang in her chest with the drive of wanting to solve a problem surging through her. Ominis bowed his head, obviously caring just as much for Anne while Garreth was hearing all of this for the first time.

“We’re sorry, Sebastian,” Charles was the one to softly say. “But ancient magic is a dangerous risk to have and use. Please understand that we do not want Imelda to do this for you because we fear the unknown.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Garreth piped up in a quiet tone.

“While that may be true,” Percival said, “there are some things that must not be trifled or experimented with. Using magic to take away any variant of pain could lead to a worse fate where you cannot repair it.”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed at his wording. “Did that happen to Isidora’s father?”

The Keepers stiffened and even exchanged glances. Their silence was telling. Imelda’s heart plunged with dread at what could have possibly happened.

“We cannot say more about this now,” San firmly said. “Please just wait until you’ve seen my memories for yourself.”

Imelda sighed and waved a hand, showing that she would relent and comply with his wish.

“One more question,” Sebastian said with a finger up. “What do you know about goblin curses?”

“How do you mean?” Charles asked.

“My sister was cursed by goblins,” Sebastian impatiently explained. “Have you ever heard of a goblin curse that would cause so much pain to someone? Particularly in their midsection, causing them to bend over in agony?”

That thoroughly confused the Keepers.

“Did she…touch something of theirs? Or any kind of goblin silver?” Percival inquired.

Sebastian shook his head. “She only went up to where they were—in the midst of smoke—and one of them said ‘children should be seen and not heard’. Then we found her on the ground, obviously affected by some curse.”

The Keepers were contemplating this for a long while before Niamh said,

“Sebastian, goblin curses only occur through physical touch. Someone else—not a goblin—cursed her.”

That revelation struck them like lightning. Someone else cursed Anne? It wasn’t goblins?

Sebastian stumbled back in pure disbelief, staring at them with widened eyes. “W-what?” He said as if the wind were knocked out of him.

“Goblins constantly work with material,” Percival explained while gesturing with his hands. “It is why goblin silver is a fascinating metal, imbuing other materials and hardly ever being destroyed.”

“Godric Gryffindor’s sword was even crafted with it,” Niamh added, sharing knowledge of her own house. Garreth perked up at that.

Percival continued, “It must also have to do with the fact goblins do not wield wands, and therefore can only use magic on things they craft.”

Garreth turned to Imelda. “Didn’t you say the trolls wore some sort of armor that was full of red ancient magic?”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“That must be goblin metal, imbued with this magic they found in some repositories,” Garreth figured out with a bright shine in his eyes.

“Precisely,” Percival said. “This goblin—Ranrok—must be able to harness the magic through metal. Then he crafted it for the rest of his army.”

San looked grimmer. “This is grave news, and I wish to speak with my colleagues more about this.”

“That’s our cue to leave,” Ominis translated.

“Follow me,” Imelda said.

She noticed Sebastian was still distraught and staring into the distance. She went over to him and tentatively put her hand on his shoulder. He blinked and looked at her, his chestnut brown eyes full of distress.

Her heart ached for him as she could understand what he was thinking: he believed he wasted time looking in the wrong place all along. It was like how she recently felt with her tunnel-visioned pursuit of Quidditch.

“Hey, we’ll find something,” she quietly told him. She was willing to be strong and firm about this, wanting to ground her friend. “We’re not giving up, remember?”

He nodded, and she gently patted his back before leading all of them up the stairs and out of the Map Chamber.

They were all silent as they trekked up the spiral stairs. Once they made it to the stone landing, Ominis reached out to his best mate.

“You okay, Sebastian?” He gently asked.

Sebastian breathed shakily and blinked several times to keep tears from forming. “I feel so foolish, I should have known…” He raised his arm to cover his eyes and wipe them with his robe’s sleeve. “No wonder I couldn’t find anything.”

“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” Garreth quietly said with a sympathetic hand on his back. His eyes were full of compassion for his friend. “I had no idea…”

Sebastian bitterly laughed and lowered his arm. “I didn’t advertise for everyone.” He stared at the stone floor. “I wouldn’t handle all of the pitying looks.”

“But now that I know, I want to help,” Garreth insisted with a solemn expression. “Maybe I can even craft something to help alleviate some pain Anne is feeling.”

“I appreciate that, thank you, but Solomon is already doing that for her at home,” Sebastian said, still choked up.

Imelda suddenly remembered that strange instance she witnessed about such a thing. She wanted to bring it up now, but…Sebastian was already emotionally vulnerable. If her gut feeling was right, she didn’t want Sebastian to act irrationally.

She pointedly stared at Garreth, and he met her eyes. Understanding dawned on his face, and he cleared his throat. “Well, I think we’ve all had a long day! How about we take a load off at the Great Hall? I’m famished.”

“I agree. I haven’t had anything to eat since this morning,” Ominis said. He put his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Come on, I even promise to not tease you about your belle.”

He half-heartedly chuckled in response. “Deal. I suppose I could eat.”

“You two go on ahead,” Imelda said, gesturing to the barred door that was the way out. “You’ll find yourself in the dungeons.”

“We’re Slytherins, we’ll certainly know the way out from there,” Sebastian remarked, and Imelda smiled a little, relieved to see he was getting back to how he was.

Garreth walked up to Imelda as they watched the two Slytherins leave. Then he turned to her. “What is it?”

Imelda faced him and solemnly asked, “Of all the pain-relieving potions you’ve made, have any one of them created golden fireworks above the cauldron?”

Garreth furrowed his eyebrows at her question, and he looked away as he thought hard on it. She could see the gears working in his head as his green eyes were marginally flicking back and forth as he was recollecting all of the concoctions he created.

“No,” he finally answered. “Not even the ones that would work for the few symptoms Sebastian described.”

Imelda’s stomach churned. “That’s what I thought,” she whispered.

He regarded her with a serious look. “Did you see that from Solomon?”

“I did. Making what he claimed was the potion to help Anne.” She asked another question: “What does that little firework mean, then?”

Garreth hesitated with a grimace. “In my experience—some of which you’ve seen—that’s not usually a good sign.” He hastily held a hand up. “But before we jump to conclusions…I need to see it for myself.”

“I told you what it looked like.”

“No offense, Imelda, but memories can be spotty, especially when it comes to crucial details in potions. I need to observe this potion making so I can pinpoint what exactly is happening.”

Imelda reasoned in her head that she supposed that made sense. “Alright. Maybe we can discuss another visit to see Anne with Sebastian. I’m sure he’ll want to see his sister about this new development. But we shouldn’t tell him about this until we know for certain what’s going on.”

Garreth nodded. “Understood.” He playfully smiled. “ And I wouldn’t mind seeing the girl that rivalled me in mischief.”

Imelda pursed her lips as jealousy coiled around her stomach. She remembered Anne mentioning she snogged a boy in the past. Sure that wasn’t…

“You two had a past?” She asked with a bitter tone as they started to walk out into the dungeons.

“Do you and Sebastian have a past?” He asked back, and she blinked at how bitter he sounded.

She looked over her shoulder and he nonchalantly shrugged.

“It sounded like you’ve been on some adventures with Sebastian this term too.”

“It’s not like they were full of sunshine and rainbows,” she snapped. “Considering one of those times involved fighting goblins, I’d rather I didn’t have ‘adventures’ with Sebastian.”

“Just seems like you two are thick as thieves.”

She was growing infuriated by his detached tone. “Are you talking about him knowing about the glass archway?”

“You say you’ve told me everything, but you didn’t mention that makes your word contradict yourself.”

She groaned and rounded on him, even grabbing his arms and forcing him to back into a nearby alcove by barrels. His eyes lit with indignation, but she didn’t care.

“Let me straighten this out for you,” she angrily said. “I didn’t tell you about it because it involved mentioning Anne, which meant bringing up Sebastian’s private life, which is none of my business to share!”

Garreth had a blank look on his face, and she didn’t know if he was feigning it or if he was actually dense.

“I told you that I had to tell Sebastian and Ominis things while I simply let you in on everything,” she reiterated, finally stepping back and letting go of his arms. She might have made a mental note that they felt defined and stored it off to the side.

His eyes finally softened to replicate seafoam and his jaw unclenched. “Why did you?” He quietly asked, losing the edge in his voice.

“Because I—”

She was riding on her anger for so long that she nearly blurted out something foolish. Her cheeks heated up, and they grew in temperature by the curious and imploring look in Garreth’s eyes. The same old fear closed her throat and made her choke on her potential confession.

“I…don’t know. I-I trust you,” she managed to say as she nervously maintained eye contact. She swallowed and confidently repeated, “I trust you.”

That was the truth, but she knew it wasn’t the truth that died on her tongue.

There was a flicker of resignation in his eyes before he blinked and averted his gaze. “I’m sorry I let my emotions get the better of me,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay,” she said.

They started to resume walking out of there, and the heat in her cheeks started to dwindle.

“Just to let you know,” Garreth said as they were nearing the stairs out of the dungeon. He looked at her with a pointed expression. “No, there was nothing between me and Anne. We were both just frequent detention attendees.”

The tight coil around her stomach finally loosened, and she blushed at the reason for her relief. “And there’s no past with me and Sebastian,” she told him.

She thought she imagined his shoulders slumping.

“Okay,” he said. Then he cracked a smile. “Let’s get something to eat, yeah?”

She returned it with a small one of her own. “Right behind you.”

As Garreth took the lead to walk to the Great Hall, Imelda tried to understand his strange mannerisms. Why did he act so sullen whenever it involved Sebastian knowing something of hers? Why did he seem disappointed by her answer about trusting him? He was the one that told her “trust goes both ways”, she thought he’d be happy knowing she trusted him. Maybe she should have said that she trusted him with her life, which she did.

She curiously frowned as she thought about the possibility of Garreth being relieved in knowing nothing ever happened between her and Sebastian.

She shook her head to rid herself of these thoughts that only stirred up her own frustrating longing for Garreth.

She focused instead on the new discoveries about Anne. First, they find out that she couldn’t have been cursed by goblins, and then Solomon was certainly not brewing a beneficial potion for her.

So who cursed her? And what was Solomon concocting?

Imelda took a deep breath. Whatever the answers were, she just hoped Sebastian wouldn’t act rashly nor get in over his head in pursuit for a cure…

Chapter Text

The first school days of October seemed to bring everyone back to a normal routine. Imelda still did her morning flying and practice, went to classes, and then worked on assignments. She worked on homework with Sebastian and Ominis, but the three Slytherins all had more on their minds than Transfiguration or Charms. It was almost laughable that their peers were more concerned about O.W.L.s than the threat of war.

Her routine changed a little more with her finding herself working with Poppy in Beasts class, and beside Garreth in Potions. Poppy seemed pleasantly surprised and even gave her a small smile, glad to have put her trust in Imelda. Garreth, however, looked shocked before lighting up, pleased she put her trust in him. Even if it was in something as small as working closer to each other in a classroom.

“I promise I won’t experiment,” he said with a carefree grin. She chuckled. “I’ll hold you to it.”

As Garreth quietly laughed, Imelda noticed Sebastian was looking between the two, clearly wondering about them. Once Garreth’s attention was back on his work, Imelda waved her hand at Sebastian to stop being obvious. He in turn furrowed his eyebrows and started to mouth something, and Imelda made a hissing noise to stop him. A silent argument of gesturing broke out between them, but Sebastian eventually stopped with a roll of his eyes and an exasperated wave of his hand.

Imelda sighed to herself once she saw Garreth didn’t notice any of this tomfoolery. She went back to her own brewing, and the rest of the class time was uneventful.

“Ms. Reyes, a word,” Sharp called while students started to file out.

Her heart squeezed, and she instantly looked at her three confidants. Ominis’s eyebrows worriedly furrowed, Sebastian’s shoulders tensed, and Garreth glanced back at the professor.

“Professor, what is this about?” The Gryffindor asked.

“None of your concern, Mr. Weasley,” Sharp merely said without even looking up from his assessment grading. “It’s a matter between Ms. Reyes and I.”

“Just go,” she urged them before they all got in trouble defying a professor’s request. “And don’t eavesdrop,” she sternly added to Sebastian and Ominis.

They waved their hands to acknowledge they heard her, and they soon left with the rest of their peers.

Imelda slowly turned around with a thudding heartbeat as she heard the door magically close. She wondered if her luck ran out; it would have only been a matter of time. And out of all the professors, it had to be Sharp.

Her fingernails dug into her palms as she approached Sharp. She took a deep breath like she always did before trials or games.

“Yes, Professor?”

Sharp slowly set the quill down to not leave any ink splotches onto the essays he was grading. He interlocked his hands together and looked up at Imelda. His mahogany eyes were sharp as flint from his scrutinizing gaze.

“A while ago, Madam Scribner told me a curious thing,” he started. Imelda tried to stay nonchalant despite her stomach churning with dread as she suspected where this was going. “She told me that you checked out a book with Mr. Weasley. A book from the Restricted Section.”

Imelda forced back bile rising from nerves. “I did have permission to check it out, signed by—”

“Professor Fig, I’m aware,” Sharp finished. His gaze didn’t waver one bit. She was certain he didn’t even blink. “My wards also mentioned that you left Hogsmeade with Professor Fig’s wife. Even though I entrusted you to assist them.”

Her insides started to writhe. “I…thought that Sebastian and Artemis and the others would be of plenty help when I was…stolen away.” Her voice might not have wavered, but it was sounding smaller.

“Now, a month later after Scribner asks me about Most Potente Potions, the Headmaster acts…off.” He lifted his eyebrow. “I’m well aware of the Polyjuice potion recipe, and right on schedule, Professor Black has a new tell.”

“Tell?” Imelda nervously echoed.

“As insufferable as he is, he doesn’t close his hands into fists when he’s agitated.” He gestured to her. “Like you do.”

Imelda looked down at her hands and slowly opened them. Crescents were shown in her palms. Air left her lungs like a Bludger struck her chest as she was paralyzed with fear.

“I wasn’t an Auror for ten years for nothing.”

She harshly cleared her throat as her mind whirled with panic. How was she going to reason with an ex-Auror about this? She broke several rules!

Her heart squeezed. What about Garreth? Sebastian and Ominis? Would they be expelled like her?

“I-I didn’t mean—” She choked out in a stammer. “It was—” Excuses were shriveling at the tip of her tongue, truly at a loss for words.

“However,” Sharp spoke up with his voice still as even as ever, “Professor Fig had the foresight to let me know that whatever is going on, it is for ‘a noble cause’ as he put it.” He sat back and removed his hands to drum his fingers on the desktop. “So I told Madam Scribner that you were merely ‘exploring’ other branches of careers with Mr. Weasley, delving into complex potions.”

Imelda stared at him for a long time as his words slowly sank into her mind. He knew? He knew all along from Fig? He gave her a small panic for nothing?

“You—”

She stopped before she started to berate him like she would with housemates. She bit her tongue to stay respectful. She harshly exhaled, easily breathing for once in the last few minutes.

“Why…did you question me like that, sir?” She managed to calmly ask.

Sharp lifted his chin. “I wanted to make sure from your reactions that whatever it is you’re doing was for noble causes.” He regarded her with a firm and serious expression. “Your tells at least showed in your favor that this wasn’t for mischief reasons like I first suspected when I noticed you working with Mr. Weasley.”

Imelda frowned at the professor’s assumption about Garreth. Her heart panged as it even reminded her of how people assumed plenty about her regarding her attitude and love of Quidditch.

Sharp thankfully pulled her out of her sorrowful thinking as he slowly rose to his feet. He took a deep breath as he was still just barely leaning his hand onto the table.

“Ms. Reyes, I trust that what you’re doing isn’t too much to bear,” he said, taking her by surprise by how…solemnly caring he sounded. His eyes carried a strange light she’d seen in Fig’s eyes. “I know that this year is full of danger out there like Rookwood, Harlow, and Ranrok. The idea alone of goblins wanting to start a war is concerning, but it should be left to adults.”

Imelda refrained from protesting, going back to closing her hands into fists.

Sharp didn’t understand that the war already started, in her opinion. And she had to do something about it. No one else had the same magic she did. If they did, she feared it would be someone like Ranrok or—Merlin forbid—Rookwood himself. He was a descendant of a Keeper, after all.

Almost like he was a Legilimens, Sharp patiently added, “Just because you believe you have incredible feats or skills, that does not make you capable against formidable threats.” He shifted on his feet, faintly grimacing. “I would know; complacency always brings dire consequences.”

“With all due respect, sir,” she said while crossing her arms, “I do have skills—abilities—like no other. I can’t stay back from it.” She averted her gaze to a pointless spot on the desk. “No matter how much I wish I could.”

She felt Sharp’s gaze stay on her for a while before he took another deep breath. “I don’t know everything about you, that’s true. Professor Fig only mentioned that you are…‘special’.”

That’s one word for it, she bitterly thought as she looked back at him.

“If you’re as headstrong about…” he vaguely gestured around them, “as you are about everything else, then so be it. I won’t dictate what you should or shouldn’t do.” He gave her a knowing look. “If there’s anything you wish to ask me about, you’re free to.”

Imelda’s heartbeat was going through valleys and peaks of this interaction, but it’s pounding more peacefully in knowing she has a great ally now. An ex-Auror and talented potioneer at that.

“Thank you, Professor.”

He nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

She nodded before heading out.

“Oh, and Ms. Reyes,” he called, making her turn to look back at him again.

Sharp had an indiscernible look in his eyes as he added, “That offer…it goes for your friends, too. Most specifically Mr. Sallow and…Mr. Gaunt.”

If Imelda didn’t know any better, Sharp’s voice wavered just the slightest at the mention of Ominis. Did Sharp know Ominis well already?

She merely nodded again and replied, “understood” before leaving the classroom.

Only to run right into her three concerned confidants.

She sighed and instantly went to assuage them from their worries. “I’m not expelled, neither are any of you.”

Garreth, Sebastian, and Ominis simultaneously let out a long breath of relief.

“What did he want, then?” Sebastian asked with his arms crossed.

Imelda shrugged. “Best way to put it, he’s aware something significant is going on with me, and he’s willing to help if need be.”

Garreth perked up. “Professor ‘No-dilly-dallying-in-my-classroom’ Sharp is offering to help you?” He chuckled, obviously impressed. “He’s a powerful asset, if you ask me.”

“Indeed,” Ominis thoughtfully said while holding his chin. “He was, after all, an Auror before, so he must know people in the Ministry.”

“Yeah, like my uncle,” Sebastian bitterly said.

Imelda turned to the blond. “Ominis, are you…close to Sharp, by any chance?”

Ominis lifted an eyebrow. “He knew my aunt in his class years. He told me that much in our first year.”

Imelda wondered if that was why Sharp seemed to speak differently about Ominis. She put that curiosity aside and focused on the now.

“Well, we can breathe easier,” she said. She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “We just have to wait for a bit until Bakar decides he can let me do his trial.”

“Until then,” Sebastian spoke up before leaning in to conspiratorially whisper, “remember that triptych?”

Garreth blinked. “Triptych?”

Sebastian froze, and he gave Imelda a reproachful look. “I thought you told him everything,” he hissed.

“It’s kind of hard to,” she gritted out. “Considering where it is.”

Garreth sighed heavily. “More secrets.”

Ominis raised his hand. “To be fair, this one is mine,” he said.

“If it involves Imelda, I want to help,” Garreth insisted to the blind Slytherin.

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow, and Imelda rolled her eyes at the mischievous grin slowly spreading on his face. “Is that so? Why so determined, my friend, about helping Ickle Imelda?”

“I’m not ‘Ickle’!” Imelda admonished with a glare at him, not noticing Garreth’s flushed face.

“And,” Garreth bravely started before words seemed to fail him. “Er—”

“Son of a Salazar,” Ominis softly exclaimed with his eyes widening. “You two snogged, didn’t you?”

Sebastian’s mouth comically dropped open as he caught Imelda and Garreth instantaneously blushing hard.

“I can’t believe it! I knew something was up!”

“How did—?” Imelda incredulously asked.

“Even I could tell something happened,” Ominis dryly said.

“Though that time you two spent being doe-eyes in that trial gave it away,” Sebastian added.

Garreth sputtered. “I was not!”

“Can we just move on from it?” Imelda impatiently said over the three. Her face was still burning, and her heart was pounding faster than a Snitch’s wings. “Yes, we…” She shyly met Garreth’s eyes. “We snogged. But that’s all.”

Sebastian gave her an unconvinced look. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Sebastian, so help me—”

“Hey,” Garreth cut in before Imelda stalked up to Sebastian. He moved to stand between them with his back to her. “We’re just friends, and that’s it.”

“Why did you snog, then?” Ominis challenged.

Garreth exasperatedly sighed. “You really want to split hairs?”

“If you knew Imelda like we did,” Sebastian started.

“Sebastian,” she hissed, and he instantly held his hands up.

“We were just trying to get out of trouble of being caught after hours,” Garreth dismissively explained. “That’s all.”

Sebastian and Ominis owlishly blinked.

Imelda fiddled her hands. She knew that was it, but she also knew better. She wasn’t going to contradict what Garreth said, though. That would only cause more attention to the topic, and that idea terrified her. She certainly didn’t want to discuss this with Sebastian and Ominis either.

“That’s it?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes,” Garreth affirmed.

Ominis stayed quiet while Sebastian sighed and shrugged.

“Alright, fine, we’ll move on,” the latter said with far more disappointment than Imelda expected.

“Great, so I’ll leave you guys to your secrets,” Garreth told them as he started backing away. He gave them a carefree smile. “I think I’ve got a chess game rematch with Andrew anyway.” He cringed. “Or actual homework so my aunt doesn’t get on me about it. I’ll see you around.”

Ominis waited until he could no longer hear Garreth’s footsteps before sighing with relief. “That was too close,” he muttered. He glared at the two the best he could. “Could you two be any less discreet?”

“Sorry, mate,” Sebastian replied with a helpless shrug. “I thought she let him in on it.”

“But now you know why I didn’t,” she said, though guilt still weighed heavily in her heart about having to keep so much from Garreth. When he’d done nothing but prove his trustworthiness.

“Let’s go the other way,” Ominis insisted.

Sebastian and Imelda followed him down the stairs by the Potions classroom, and Imelda looked over her shoulder at where she last saw Garreth.

They might have missed it, but Imelda noticed the Gryffindor’s fake smile. Even the faint hurt in his eyes about being kept out. Maybe she caught it because…

On the way to the Undercroft, she started to plan and hoped to see Garreth later as a way to make it up to him.

~~~

Imelda, Ominis, and Sebastian stood in front of the triptych.

“Remember when Ominis mentioned I had something to tell you?” Sebastian asked while they were looking over the painting on the left side.

Well, he and Imelda did. Ominis was standing bored, holding his wand that was still blinking red at the end.

“That time we had a fight about goblins?” Imelda asked back.

“Sorry again, about that,” he awkwardly replied while scratching the back of his head.

“Water under the bridge. But what was it?”

Sebastian approached the painting and pointed at the tree. He turned to Imelda with a confident grin.

“That view, I remember having a foggy idea on where I saw that before.” He walked over to the nearby table that was covered with a few maps. “My parents were always curious about different and unknown paths of magic. Even go on trips around these Highlands and beyond, trips they took Anne and I on.”

The excited shine in Sebastian’s eyes almost dimmed entirely. He looked downcast at the maps as he leaned his hands on the table.

“Things were…simpler back then,” he mumbled. “Better.”

Ominis sympathetically went over and patted his mate’s shoulder. Imelda felt her heart go out to Sebastian too. Even if she never lost any family relatives, she still saw how much it affected him like overcast shadows.

She hesitated and even pulled her fingers close to herself before reaching out and putting her hand on top of his.

Sebastian jolted from the physical touch, but Imelda didn’t move away. Chestnut brown met chocolate brown, and he understood that she was here and cared too. He minutely nodded to her, but she caught the gratitude in his gaze.

He focused back on the maps, and she retracted her hand so he could use it properly.

His finger tapped an area just northeast of Upper Hogsfield. “It’s called The Overlook,” he explained. “There’s an abandoned mine there, one that my parents kept Anne and I from.” He smiled with nostalgia. “They knew how to preoccupy us—with new books.”

“Sebastian, are you sure you’re up for this?” Ominis carefully asked.

Imelda watched as Sebastian’s expression shifted from reminiscing fondness to indecisiveness to impassiveness.

“As unsettling as that memory was, Isidora might still give us some answers,” he reasoned in an even tone. “Maybe Anne’s curse is one from her time.” He glanced at Imelda. “Or maybe she could provide Imelda answers too.”

“I doubt it,” she muttered. “She could in the end just try to talk me into taking people’s pain away.”

“We won’t know until we find more about her,” Sebastian said. He shrugged. “Innocent until proven guilty.” Imelda still caught the perturbed and uncertain look on his face, though, making her believe he didn’t see Isidora as completely innocent.

She remembered something else. “You mentioned a Scriptorium as well.” Ominis stiffened in the corner of her eye. “Where did that lead you?”

Sebastian sighed and looked over his shoulder at Ominis. “Care to tell her?”

Ominis scowled and crossed his arms. “Only a Slytherin—from Salazar’s bloodline—knows the entrance. But nothing good can come from going there.” His sternness crumbled into sorrow as he turned away. “And if you go in…you might not come out,” he uttered in the faintest of voices.

Sebastian pushed himself off the table. “Ominis…”

He tightly closed his eyes and gripped onto his wand, and the red light started to blink slower. The light was even dimmer as if to reflect his mood. That alone made Imelda’s gut twist like never before, and her heart wrenched at the sight of her other friend in anguish.

“I…I would like to be left alone for now,” Ominis quietly requested.

Sebastian nodded and he glanced at Imelda before pointedly looking at the gate. She walked beside him, and they left the Undercroft together.

Ominis paced in agitation in the center of the four stone pillars as the door closed with the clock hands spinning back into their positions.

Imelda didn’t at first move, still staring at the clocks on the entrance.

Sebastian turned to her. “Imelda?”

She lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

There was a pause, and then she heard slow shoe scuffling approach her. “…Sorry about what?”

“For being ignorant.” Her face flushed with shame. “I was… I didn’t even notice all that you and Ominis and Anne were going through.” She scoffed at herself and looked skyward, determined to not cry right here and now. “And for what? My own selfish pursuit of a career fit for my ‘talent’?”

She stiffened at feeling a hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t jerk away. She slowly turned her gaze and met Sebastian’s solemn one.

“It’s not like we advertised it either,” he reasoned.

“But still,” she insisted while her voice grew tight.

He shook his head. “We roughly knew of each other before, Imelda. It’s…” He searched for the right words. “It’s okay if you didn’t know what we were going through before. You do now, and honestly? That still means a lot.”

Imelda wasn’t sure she could believe that, and she harshly swallowed to quell the lump in her throat.

“Really?” She faintly asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a small smile. “If you’d told me years ago we’d be like this and you care this much, I would have thought you were barking mad.” He smiled more as Imelda chuckled at his remark. “You have a better effect on people than you think.”

“At least now,” she said.

“I can’t deny that, yes,” he agreed. Then he patted her back. “You’re okay now?” She nodded. “Good. Come on.” He dropped his hand as they walked out of the alcove. “We can plan more about this trip of ours, as well as prepare something to cheer Ominis up when he’s done.”

“Bergamot tea?”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose, impressed at her perception, before he nodded. “Yes, definitely bergamot tea.” He smirked. “And maybe we’ll even discuss a possible Gryffindor—”

“No.”

“Come on, I feel like there’s more, tell me,” he pleaded. “We just had a moment!”

She gave him an unamused look. “We did have a moment. For a moment.” He started to pout, and she lightly shoved his arm. “Let’s just focus on our tasks at hand.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “One of these days, you’ll tell me.”

“Like you’ll tell me more about Estelle?”

Sebastian blushed and dropped the subject, but then…

His eyebrows furrowed as he wondered why Imelda used Estelle as an example for her to not share about Garreth.

Imelda hoped he didn’t catch her slip up, and she continued to look straight ahead to not betray her thoughts.

~~~

Back at the Slytherin common room, Sebastian and Imelda decided to check out the location from the triptych the next weekend. He wanted to visit Feldcroft again this coming Saturday. Imelda remembered her plan with Garreth and she said she wanted to join him to see Anne.

When Ominis joined them, he perked up at detecting the scent of bergamot tea from the teapot.

“Feeling better?” Sebastian gently asked.

Ominis nodded after he sipped some of his favorite tea. “I am. Thank you.”

Imelda was relieved to hear that, and she offered, “Ominis, we’re going to pay Anne a visit this coming weekend. Would you like to join us?”

Ominis’s pale eyes lit up. “I would. I’d love to catch up with her.” He smiled in Imelda’s direction. “Thank you for asking.”

She shrugged, not meeting either of their eyes. “Sebastian would have offered it if I didn’t,” she muttered.

Sebastian chuckled. “I would have, but it still says a lot that you offered first.”

“It does,” Ominis added with a faint note of teasing in his voice.

Imelda rolled her eyes in good nature and went back to drinking more tea.

Her ears picked up a familiar voice, and she looked up to see Isaac talking in length with Purus. Sebastian turned in his seat to follow her gaze while Ominis merely lifted an eyebrow.

Isaac searched the common room, and then his forest green eyes landed on Imelda. They lit up, and he made his way over there with Purus close behind.

“Hey, Imelda,” he greeted with his usual grin.

“Hey, Isaac,” she replied as her fingers tightened around her tea cup just a little. “What brings you here?”

Isaac huffed. “I assume you’ve seen Kogawa already.”

Imelda’s eyebrows twitched. “I haven’t,” she said. Should she have?

Isaac and Purus blinked in surprise. They looked at her as if she started speaking Gobbledegook.

“Really?”

She shook her head with a shrug. “I’ve been…busy,” she lamely explained.

Purus looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “But…you’re Imelda. Surely you already know—”

“It’s just that the Headmaster seems all the more adamant about no Quidditch, despite our efforts in convincing him,” Isaac said with a frown.

Oh.

Imelda suddenly remembered her interaction with the two older Slytherins when she was posing as Black. That’s what they were all up in a tizzy over.

She cleared her throat. “I see.”

Isaac tilted his head at her. “Imelda, are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged before running a hand through his black hair. “I’m merely surprised you’re not more…upset about this disappointing news for Quidditch.”

“Oh, oh right,” she muttered. She set down her cup and put her hands on her knees. “It is frustrating, but what do you expect from a pompous man that looks down on everyone else?”

“She unfortunately has a point,” Purus said. “I did hear that Kogawa was challenged by Black to actually write to the Ministry about the matter, though.”

Imelda chuckled, feeling proud about that moment. “Maybe then Black will bend his knee.”

Isaac laughed. “Here’s hoping.” He snapped his fingers as he remembered something else. “Oh, Imelda, about our broom modifications, would this weekend work for you?”

Her gut instinct wanted to instantly say yes, desiring any improvement for her Night Dancer to make her better.

But she glanced at Ominis and Sebastian, who have been keenly listening to this entire conversation before them.

“Er, maybe,” she said. “I have plans on Saturday.”

Purus let out an incredulous laugh. “Imelda Reyes made plans? Ones that don’t involve Quidditch?”

Imelda felt annoyance flare in her blood, and she rose to her feet. She gave Malfoy a hard stare. “It might be new to you, Purus, but there is more to me than just Quidditch.”

Purus’s teasing grin went away immediately, and Imelda was at least pleased that Isaac looked more intrigued than shocked.

“Who are you, and what have you done to Imelda Reyes?” Isaac asked with a fond smile of disbelief.

She defiantly lifted her chin, feeling a bit more defensive. “I’ve just changed.” For the better, she finished in her mind. “Is that so bad?”

Isaac shook his head with a chuckle. “No, of course not, Imelda.” He smiled warmly. “If anything, it’s great.”

That took her by surprise, and she was rendered speechless for a moment.

“So, what about Sunday?” Isaac offered.

Imelda shrugged. “Sure, Sunday works.”

“Great. I’ll see you at Weekes’ shop then around…two?”

“Sure.”

“See you then!” He bade before going on his merry way.

“See you,” she called out.

She sat back down and picked up her tea. She sipped and concentrated on the citrus and earthy tastes on her tongue.

Then she noticed Sebastian and Ominis still didn’t say a word. One glance at them, and she saw they were rather shocked.

“What?” She asked.

Sebastian gestured to where Isaac was with his cup. “That was interesting to witness.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You two know what I’ve been dealing with. Quidditch just…” She clinked her nails on the porcelain cup. “It’s not the highest priority. Sure, I still do my morning routine of flying, but there’s more pressing matters to worry about.”

“That is true,” Ominis mused. “But…we were merely noticing that we think that’s the longest you’ve talked to Isaac without stammering or having a waver in your voice.”

“No blush either,” Sebastian reported, which seemed to make Ominis even more pleasantly surprised.

Imelda rolled her eyes. “You two like to talk more about romance than some girls,” she muttered before sipping her tea again.

“Hey, romance is unisex,” Sebastian insisted. Then he leaned forward to whisper, “Does this mean that you…don’t fancy Isaac anymore, though?”

Imelda considered it. Didn’t she already come to that conclusion? Especially now with…everything involving Garreth?

She nodded. “I’d say so, yes.”

Sebastian perked up. “Does that mean you fancy someone else?”

“A certain Gryffindor?” Ominis chimed in.

Imelda blushed at the pincer attack. She should have known it would be a matter of time before they figured it out.

“Yes, but,” she quickly interjected before they got excited, “we’re just friends.”

“If you like him, why not do something about it?” Ominis pressed.

“Would you?” She asked back. “With your own fancy, would you be willing to risk it?”

Ominis flushed and refrained from saying any more. She turned to Sebastian.

“Or you?”

Sebastian traced the rim of his cup with his finger. “Maybe,” he muttered.

“We’re not Gryffindors,” she said. “We’re not all about boldness and bravery.”

“Maybe so, but they don’t have a monopoly on it either,” Sebastian reasoned back. Understanding shone in his eyes, though. “But if you don’t feel like doing anything about it, so be it.”

“Thank you,” she said. She looked down at her tea. “It’s just…nice to have friends for once. I don’t mind…having just that for now.”

Ominis hummed. “I can relate to that feeling.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement. He lifted his teacup as a toast. “Here’s to friendship,” he playfully remarked.

Ominis snorted and Imelda scoffed, but they both had small smiles on their faces as they clinked their cups together.

Imelda only hoped that wherever their paths led, it wouldn’t sever the bonds they formed from here on out.

Chapter Text

Right after classes the next day, Imelda intended to keep her promise to see Garreth, so she sought him out and offered to do homework together like they did last year. He happily agreed, even eager to be “study buddies” again. While that used to make her roll her eyes, she was now fighting a smile.

They found a table on the first floor of the library, and they sat on the same side. At least there wouldn’t be a worry of their feet knocking into each other. Though Imelda had to move her chair over a little so her shoulder didn’t keep bumping into Garreth’s.

An hour passed, and as they worked on their Charms essay, Imelda quietly said, “Sebastian wants to see Anne this Saturday.”

Garreth hummed as he idly twirled his quill in his hand. He turned to her as he asked, “And you want me to happen to be there too?”

“If you want. You don’t have to come this time around.”

He thought it over before nodding a little. “I’ll go.”

Imelda furrowed her eyebrows. “And remember you mustn’t be seen.”

“Of course. Keeping it just between us.” He grinned. “Our little secret.”

She chuckled. “Considering our track record, we’re not the best at keeping secrets.”

Garreth snorted. “Well, we weren’t really discreet about keeping it from those two, were we?” “No,” she said as she leaned her fist against her cheek. She lightly drummed her fingers on the paper as she considered the fact he had friends too. “Does anyone else know?”

He stiffened. “Er…”

Imelda lifted an eyebrow. “Who?”

His ears turned as red as his hair. “…Leander and Andrew.” Then he hastily added, “I just wanted to confide in someone!”

Imelda was about to sigh, but then…she wondered why Garreth wanted or needed that. Then she remembered who she confided in, and she blushed as she admitted in a low voice, “I told Anne too.”

“Samantha knows as well, technically.” Garreth slumped into his chair and sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s honestly a miracle it’s not known by everyone.”

Imelda glanced around them at students of all years working on assignments, then she looked back at him. “But as long as we’re fine, right?”

He smiled reassuringly to her, giving her that same warmth she always yearned for from him. “Yeah, of course we’re fine.”

She returned the smile with her own. “Good.” She started to return to her essay, but she was even less remotely interested in writing about the Severing Charm and Mending Charm.

“Imelda.” She inquisitively hummed and focused back on Garreth. The numerous freckles on his cheeks stood out from his curious blush. He cleared his throat and his sea green met her chocolate brown eyes. “There’s a nice occasion on Hallowe’en, and I was wondering—”

“Imelda! Oh, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Garreth sighed a little at the sheepish end, and he looked across the table. Imelda was frankly surprised to see the one responsible.

Natty stood on the other side of the table, awkwardly shifting on her feet.

“It’s fine, Natty,” Garreth muttered as he sat back in his chair.

Imelda checked to make sure he was fine before turning her attention to the Gryffindor girl. “What is it?”

Natty focused on her again, leaning closer as she whispered, “I heard back from Officer Singer. We must go to Lower Hogsfield now.”

“Is this about your Harlow investigations?” Garreth curiously asked, making the two girls jump from him chiming in.

Imelda expected Natty to be angry about her excursion being found out. But she merely sighed and nodded. She explained, “I let him in on what we’re up to.”

“Kind of couldn’t when you came back to the Tower late at night, covered in a few hippogriff feathers,” Garreth teased with a knowing grin.

Natty rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be up so late, you insomniac innovator.”

Garreth merely shrugged in response while Imelda was internally relieved that Natty told him before she even told him everything.

“Why do we need to go?” Imelda asked Natty. “Why won’t Singer take care of it?”

“She’s not going to,” she begrudgingly said. “She already got back to me about the evidence we got at the Keep. She said it wasn’t substantial enough for apprehending Harlow.”

Imelda scowled. Whether or not they should have been there, they still risked their necks to get something incriminating.

“However,” Natty said, “Singer told me about a man—Mr. Bickle—that’s been providing her evidence to take down Harlow. If we can talk to Bickle and have his evidence along with ours, we can stop him.”

At least talking to someone sounded less life-threatening, and it didn’t sound like Singer was going to do it anytime soon.

“Fine,” Imelda said as she started putting away her homework. She noticed her Crimson Mystic Ensemble further in her Extension Charmed bag. She was relieved she took time to learn the spell in the past week; it was paying off really well. “Even though we’re just going to have a conversation there, I think we shouldn’t wear our uniforms.”

“Agreed. I’ll need to change in my dorm.”

“Can I come too?” Garreth asked. Imelda saw that he already shoved his belongings into his own bag, and she glanced at Natty. She was just as hesitant, but then Garreth imploringly added, “It’s still better to have numbers, since you’ll be talking to someone of interest to Harlow. I can help, please?”

Imelda was about to refuse, but she caught the earnest look in Garreth’s eyes. It reminded her of when Garreth wanted to help and go with her and Miriam. It didn’t help that he also reminded her of her father’s dogs with their pleading (and adorable) eyes…

She glanced at Natty, and she shrugged as if to say she was fine either way. Natty weighed her hands while she thought it over. Then she told Garreth with a small smile, “Sure, you can come.”

“Brilliant!” Garreth said as he got up and slung his bag on his shoulder. “I’ll have to go back to my dorm and change too.”

Imelda followed them out of the library into the Central Hall. “I’ll go to my dorm and meet you—”

“Why don’t you come with us,” Garreth suggested, “and we can all just Floo right to Lower Hogsfield from the Gryffindor common room?”

Natty’s onyx eyes gleamed thoughtfully before saying, “That would save some time.”

Imelda looked between the two of them. “I’m sorry, have we forgotten that I’m a Slytherin? Isn’t there an unspoken rule that Slytherins shouldn’t be in the Gryffindor House and vice versa?”

Garreth chuckled and waved his hand. “That’s what most people think, but we’ve seen friends of all kinds of houses in our common room.”

Natty nodded to agree with his point.

Imelda hesitated. She was of course curious to see what it was like, but she never thought she’d go into “the lion’s den”. What would others think? She knew Sebastian and Ominis would get a kick out of it and probably ask her about it.

Why should I care what others think about this? She thought. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m being invited in, I didn’t sneak in.

Maybe she was just nervous as this was another place Garreth frequented…

“Alright,” she conceded. “So which way to the Gryffindor Tower?”

“Follow us,” Garreth told her with a confident grin.

Imelda picked up her pace to walk between the two lions as they left the Central Hall, through the Transfiguration Courtyard, up the DADA Tower to go across the Suspension Bridge. They were in a hall with garish red walls and ornate tile patterns. Imelda barely went around this area, so she stayed close behind her “tour guides”.

They went to the right and through the door at the end of the short hallway. They went past some loos to round a corner to more displayed statues, up a small set of stairs to walk past portraits that loudly played music led by a conductor. The end of that hall had more stairs, including spiral stairs. When those finally ended, they found themselves on a floor of portraits and columns.

Garreth nudged Imelda to get her attention, and started going left from the stairs to where the area narrowed to a hallway.

At the end of the hallway was a portrait of a fat lady with a prim and proper hairstyle with a pink, poofy and elegant dress.

Imelda lifted an eyebrow, partly wondering if this was the entrance to the Gryffindor house. Why wasn’t there a lion or something along those lines? Would that be too on the nose like Slytherin’s entrance with an arch made by a huge snake?

The fat lady at first regarded them with a warm expression before her eyes landed on Imelda. There was a flicker of curiosity and even wariness before she cordially asked the Gryffindors,

“Password?”

Natty answered, “Cure for Boils.”

Garreth snorted, and Imelda scoffed in disbelief with a small smile as the portrait swung open. A small tunnel was revealed, and Natty went in first with Garreth going in next and Imelda last.

“I wonder how you got that password,” she remarked.

“Oh, you know how things spread here,” Garreth casually said, and she smiled at hearing the snicker in his voice.

They entered the common room and Imelda felt like her eyes needed to adjust. The Slytherin common room was on the dimmer side with darker walls and windows showing the Black Lake with calm and cool lighting.

The Gryffindor common room? It was piercing her eyes how bright it was. So much sunlight came through the windows of each side of the tower, and so much red. There were also many portraits, some of them instantly noticing Imelda as she stuck out like a sore thumb with her green uniform against all the red.

Leander walked down stairs that probably led to the boy’s dorms. He took one look at the three before sighing and covering his eyes with his hand in exasperation.

“Why am I even surprised?”

Natty tapped Imelda’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to my dorm.”

“Okay,” she replied, going with her up the other set of stairs across from where Leander came from. Over her shoulder, she saw Garreth converse with his best mate, and then she focused back on where Natty was taking her.

They walked up a few more flights of stairs—far more than Imelda was used to, considering the dorms in the Slytherin House were on the same floor as the rest of the place. At least she still had stamina and endurance.

Finally, they made it to Natty’s dorm, and Imelda was both surprised and not surprised by how much the room reflected more of what she saw in the common room. The four-poster beds had red curtains with golden lion crests of Gryffindor, there were Gryffindor flags, and of course plenty of sunlight from the paned windows.

It was strange to her; these rooms felt more…casual and laid back in a way while the Slytherin dorms and common room were elegant but strict.

Imelda went to the closest window and looked out while Natty went to presumably her trunk in front of a bed. The sight was as breathtaking as ones she saw on her broom. She could see Professor Howin’s hut, and the Quidditch Pitch further away. There was the Astronomy Tower, of course, and a part of the Black Lake. She smiled to herself, knowing somewhere down below the water was that Map Chamber.

“It’s certainly a different view, isn’t it?” Natty said to make conversation.

Imelda’s ears perked at hearing fabric rustle, and she remembered why she was up here. She pulled out her Crimson Mystic Ensemble and derisively laughed at it. As if there wasn’t enough red for the day, she was about to wear the color herself.

Imelda respectfully kept her back to Natty and started to change.

“It is,” Imelda answered, finally addressing her question.

Natty hesitantly added, “I heard that the Slytherins live under the lake. Is that true?”

“Yes. We have reinforced windows in the ceiling that have light come through from the sun shining through the lake. And of course massive windows that see into the lake too.” She scoffed, smiling to herself as she thought of Ominis and the Sallow twins. “Some of my housemates trick the younger students into staying by the windows to catch a glimpse of merpeople.”

Natty chuckled. “I admit, it’s hard to imagine living under a lake. It sounds…dark.”

Imelda shrugged as she strapped on the arm guards. “It’s calming in a way. At least for me.”

Natty hummed. “I suppose it’s the same for me with the sunlight.” She sighed wistfully. “Some days I miss my home in Uagadou. The only time there’s snow was if you went high enough in the mountains. Other than that, the majority of my childhood was in sunlight.”

Imelda wondered about her childhood for a moment. Vying for her father’s support and her grandfather’s approval by going into Quidditch. Which led to her flying whenever she had free time, flying in all kinds of weather, both good and bad.

She dismissed her train of thought and replied, “Must have been hard to adjust, moving up this far north.”

“It was,” Natty admitted, “but I got used to it. There’s plenty here in the Highlands to explore and enjoy, so I haven’t gotten bored yet.”

Imelda caught the lighter tone at the end, knowing she was joking. Still, she figured it would be like a Gryffindor to go out into the world just for fun.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Ready.”

The last time Imelda went on an excursion with Natty, they were at Falbarton Castle and she wore all black to blend into the night and shadows. Now, she was wearing a royal blue knitted jumper, dark trousers, and black boots.

Natty lifted an eyebrow at Imelda’s red attire, and she chuckled. “Nice to see the Gryffindor house grew on you.”

Imelda lightly rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know,” she replied in good nature. She picked up her bag and shouldered it. “Garreth’s probably waiting for us.”

Natty hummed again, which made Imelda wonder if she was holding herself back from saying something.

Did she know something about Garreth? Imelda thought before she disregarded it. What does it matter? You’re just friends. Just. Friends.

Imelda was starting to get a headache from constantly telling herself that and…why was it sounding like a lie the more she said it?

They went back down to the common room, and sure enough, Garreth was there in the same black armor as Imelda had seen him in before. He was standing by the fireplace with his arms loosely crossed while Leander was reading a book on duelling in the armchair close by.

Garreth curiously looked up as he heard the girls approach, and his eyes widened just the slightest.

He softly cleared his throat as Imelda and Natty came closer. He gave Imelda a lopsided grin as his gaze made her heart beat fast as a Snitch’s wings, with warmth spreading in her chest.

“Red still looks good on you,” he faintly said.

One end of her mouth quirked up into a half-smile. “Thank you.”

Before she could return the compliment, Leander spoke up: “What’s with the wardrobe changes?”

Natty stifled a laugh. “We’re just going out; we didn’t want to be constricted in our uniforms.”

Leander’s eyes narrowed when he focused on Garreth’s bag diagonally across his torso. Garreth feigned innocence, and Leander just grunted and shook his head.

“Just don’t make us lose House points,” he muttered, going back to his duelling book.

Garreth chuckled and clapped his hand on Leander’s shoulder before he led Imelda and Natty to the Floo Station. All three of them took a handful of the Floo powder, then one by one, they threw it into the green fire while saying in a clear tone,

“Lower Hogsfield!”

A dizzying spell later, they stumbled on the cobblestone path at the low gate entrance of the hamlet. They quickly cleaned up their appearances, ridding themselves of soot and ash, then Natty took the lead from there.

“Now, Mr. Bickle is the one we need to talk to,” Natty explained. “I believe he lives right there…” She trailed off when they all noticed an agitated woman pacing in front of her home.

“My husband… What will I do?” She asked herself while wringing her hands and clearly looking distraught.

Imelda checked on Natty, seeing her hesitate. Was this Mr. Bickle’s wife? How should they go about this, then? Garreth stepped forward and gently asked, “Ma’am, are you alright?”

The woman seemed startled out of her worrying trance, and her dark brown eyes flicked to each of the three teenagers before her. Imelda knew that expression; it was one she surely had when she felt cornered and scared. A feeling she was too familiar with thanks to the fate her ancient magic gave her.

Natty held out a hand as if to placate the woman. “We’re looking for Mr. Bickle.”

The woman gasped before letting out a small sob into her hands. “My husband— He’s dead!” She cried out. “He killed him!”

Imelda closed her hands into fists, a righteous anger already surging through her. “Who?” She asked, trying to act gentle. “Who murdered your husband?”

Mrs. Bickle managed to control her crying to exclaim, “Theophilus Harlow! I’m sure of it! He’s been threatening my husband for weeks, and—” Her red-rimmed eyes widened as she instantly looked around. “Archie? Archie!” She breathed harder as she turned back to the three. Her eyes were wide with unadulterated fear. “My son! H-he wanders with that satchel of his, but after what happened to my husband, I—I—”

Imelda grew uneasy at seeing the woman gasp and struggle to breathe. She was going into hysterics, and Imelda knew she needed help, but what could she do?

Natty quickly stepped in, though, putting her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Ma’am, we’re going to find your son, okay?” She consoled, her soothing tone barely heard over the woman’s panicked sobbing. Imelda caught a flicker of sympathy and…understanding in Natty’s eyes as she continued, “Please focus on your breathing with me.”

It took a while, but Mrs. Bickle managed to control her breathing. She gulped down air to quell more crying. She hastily wiped away her tears. “I was only away for a moment…” She whimpered. “I-I hope Archie wasn’t here when Harlow—” She choked out a short sob. “When my husband—”

Ice ran down Imelda’s spine as she glanced at the house behind Mrs. Bickle. Her husband was killed there? Harlow got to him there?

Hogwarts is just a short walk from here, she thought. Harlow, the Ashwinders, poachers, Rookwood, Ranrok could be lurking far closer than she assumed. It was one thing to go to a castle far in the Highlands and another to traverse through a northern part of the Forbidden Forest.

But then again…Harlow, Rookwood, and Ranrok were in Hogsmeade trying to get her. What could stop them from being in other hamlets?

“Do you know where Archie might be?” Garreth asked.

“He has a little hideout in the forest south of here,” she answered. “He never wanders far, but if he witnessed Harlow doing something to his father—” She sniffed and worriedly looked south. “I’m afraid to leave…in case he comes back home.”

“We’ll look for him for you, don’t worry,” Garreth reassured her. “Oh, thank you,” she choked out.

Natty and Garreth looked like they were ready to go, but Imelda couldn’t help but wonder why Harlow would have killed this particular man.

She blurted out, “Why was your husband killed by Harlow?”

The two Gryffindors exchanged uneasy glances, worried it would just upset the grieving woman more.

But Mrs. Bickle kept her composure as she took a deep, shuddering breath. “He looked into Harlow’s dealings and discovered some of what he’s been up to.” Her face crumpled with sorrow. “I begged him to leave it alone, but he—he was convinced that…” She sighed and put a hand to her head, tearing up again. “What am I going to do?”

“Just stay here in case your son comes back,” Imelda said. “We’ll find him or he’ll return to you soon enough.”

Mrs. Bickle seemed to believe her and breathed a little easier.

Once they thought she was better, the three of them jogged on the trail through the hamlet, going further south.

“Now I’m glad I joined you two,” Garreth remarked.

“I didn’t know this would happen,” Natty quietly said. “Poor Archie…”

Imelda bit her tongue before she asked Natty what she expected to happen to a man looking into a notorious and dangerous man.

She tried to search for anything that could be a kid’s hideout. She was internally kicking herself for not asking Mrs. Bickle any details to help find it better.

“There! Up ahead!” Garreth called out.

Along the winding trail was a canopy tent that had a wooden sign posted with the words “Beasts Welcom” in a child’s handwriting. Across the trail was a skeleton of a dragon. Imelda didn’t know what kind it was, but Poppy probably would have known, had she joined them.

As they got closer, their stomachs flipped. Drawings were scattered, boxes and chests had their contents spilled out, the entire hideout looked like it was turned upside down.

“He had to have seen something,” Imelda muttered. There would be no other reason why it would be ransacked.

Garreth nodded. “Hopefully he’s just hiding somewhere Harlow and his men can’t find him.”

But Imelda caught the hesitant and uncertain tone in his voice. With one glance, they understood each other’s worry for the wellbeing of the kid but also fury if anything happened to the kid.

“I found footprints!” Natty called out from a little further down the trail.

Garreth and Imelda joined her, and saw faint glowing outlines of small shoes. One foot was far ahead of the next one, which made it seem like the one responsible was running.

“How did you do that?” Garreth asked with an impressed look on his face.

Natty grinned with pride and twirled her wand in her hand. “Revelio is quite the useful spell when you’re more specific about what you’re looking for.” She pointed to the footprints with a grim expression. “These are obviously Archie’s, so we should be able to see where he went.”

They followed the glowing footprints as they strayed off the path. Mongrels got in the way, but it was easily taken care of between the three of them. They continued traversing with Natty casting Revelio from time to time, until they found a satchel haphazardly hanging on a low branch.

Garreth approached it and checked the insides. “I think this is Archie’s satchel.”

Imelda frowned and searched the area while Natty casted the spell again. Her heart was nervously hammering as she could imagine the boy desperately running away. Then the bag caught onto a branch, and he hurriedly moved his arm out of the strap so he could maintain his headstart.

Her stomach churned. If Ashwinders got to him…

“This way,” Natty said, and Imelda forced her worries aside again as they went after the trail. Garreth kept Archie’s bag on him, most likely to give back to the kid when they found him.

…IF we find him, Imelda nervously thought.

They soon found themselves at a fork in the road. There were multiple sets of footprints on both paths, but Natty casted Revelio again to reveal the one they needed to go down was the left.

As they went further, they saw the little footprints get surrounded by larger ones. Garreth cursed under his breath, and Imelda felt a protective worry surge through her veins. As much as she feared for the boy’s fate, she was just as furious about Ashwinders laying a hand on him.

“We mustn’t delay another second,” Natty firmly said, her voice laced with anger and fear.

They picked up their paces to full-on running, chasing after their lead.

Imelda noticed familiar black, leather hides, and her heart didn’t flip from the sight. Natty was running in front of her, and Imelda watched as she carefully ran around the Thestrals that were slowly getting up from their lounging positions.

Imelda caught up to her and asked, “You see them, don’t you?”

Natty merely nodded. “I witnessed death when I was nine. Saw my first Thestral shortly thereafter.”

Imelda wondered who she saw die, but this wasn’t the time nor her place to ask.

“Wait, there were Thestrals around here?” Garreth asked, astonished.

That answered Imelda’s question about whether or not he could see them. “Yes,” she answered. “They moved out of the way before you literally ran into them.”

Garreth chucked. “That would be embarrassing.”

The mental image of Garreth crashing into a Thestral he couldn’t see made her almost crack up.

But they abruptly stopped when they saw a camp littered with patrolling dark wizards.

Imelda didn’t think before she grabbed a fistful of Natty’s jumper and pulled her to the side. The Gryffindor girl made a surprised noise, but she thankfully stayed quiet. Garreth simply joined them as they all hid behind a protruding rock.

He stayed down on one knee as he looked past the edge of the rock. Natty kept her back against the rock while she looked over her shoulder. Imelda crouched and looked around the edge before sinking low.

They stiffened at spotting two men coming near their hiding spot. They stayed low and close together against the rock. Soon, they heard autumn leaves crunching.

“…taking in children now, are we? Better not be expected to feed him,” a gravelly voice remarked.

“Just ‘til the boss sees ‘im. Has to make sure that’s the brat that saw ‘em,” a second voice replied.

“Even if he isn’t, it’s not like we can let him go.”

“No, but we might get some nice Galleons in exchange for his return.”

Imelda felt disgusted as she heard the two Ashwinders cackle to themselves as they walked away. So Archie was either going to be murdered or be held for ransom. What horrible low lifes…

They held their breaths and waited until the voices and footsteps were faint. Garreth started to go through his bag while Natty checked around the rock again. Imelda gripped tightly onto her knees as she felt her heartbeat pound in her ears

She closed her eyes to force her primal instincts to get a grip. Suddenly calling down lightning or throwing an Ashwinder around would just invite more trouble for them. This wasn’t a trial like before. Nor did she have that powerful wand to take care of multiple enemies.

For someone that had extraordinary magic, she loathed how she felt helpless in this circumstance.

“We must get inside that tent,” Natty whispered. “Archie must be in there.”

“There are too many to fight,” Imelda reasoned. They didn’t have any adults, and she huffed as she leaned her head back against the stony wall. What was she thinking?! Why did she think they could take on Rookwood’s men on their own?

In our defense, she begrudgingly thought, we didn’t know we’d find ourselves in this situation. We were supposed to just talk to someone.

Garreth chuckled triumphantly beside Imelda, and he produced three vials of cloudy pale liquid out of his bag.

Natty perked up. “Invisibility potions?”

“Why, of course,” he replied with a captivating grin.

Imelda lifted an eyebrow. “You brought a bag full of potions, didn’t you?”

“Again, of course.”

Imelda merely shook her head with a fond scoff. Of course he came prepared with potions. “Please tell me you have Thunderbrew and Edurus as well.”

His grin turned more playful as his eyes exuded warmth. He shifted and opened his bag more, and she saw different vials jostled against each other. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

She stifled a laugh, and she caught a shine in his eyes that gave her reassurance, her magic calming down from its panic at the mere sight.

Polite throat clearing made both her jump and Garreth flinch. “We best get going, no?” Natty asked, obviously fighting amusement in her voice.

Garreth handed each girl a vial of the cloudy liquid. “If I brewed it right—and I know I did—we have about five minutes.”

“What about our bags?” Imelda asked as they uncorked the vials.

Garreth thought it over. “Okay, they might not become invisible like our clothing will.”

He took off his bag and Archie’s satchel while Imelda shrugged off her bag. Garreth rustled through the bag before roughly holding the necks of three glass bottles that held purple liquid that crackled here and there.

“Can you store those away?” He asked Imelda.

She nodded and took one at a time to stuff into the legside pocket of her outfit. She internally thanked Miriam again for casting this enchantment. Once all three Thunderbrews were in there, Natty counted down with her fingers.

Once she got to “one”, they kicked back the vials, drinking every drop of the potions. A strange taste of dusty water went down Imelda’s throat, and she made a strangled retching noise at the strange bubbly texture it gave as well.

Then she shivered as she felt like something cold or misty wrapped around every inch of her body. She looked down and blinked at the blatant open space there was. Unlike the Disillusionment Charm, there was no flicker or trick in the light to give her away.

“Garreth? Natty?” She whispered.

“Still here,” Natty replied in a low voice.

“Here too,” Garreth piped up on her right. She caught the same mint smell, but now she also caught a scent of a tart and sweet floral scent to her left. It must be Natty’s perfume, whatever it was.

“The patrol at the entrance to the tent is now…moving away. Let’s go now!” Natty instructed, and Imelda refrained from sighing at hearing Natty already running over there.

Blasted Gryffindor can’t stay still for a moment, she thought before she hurried after her. She heard quick footsteps behind her, letting her know Garreth was there.

She saw the flaps of the tent move just a little, and she hoped that was Natty sneaking in and not just a gust blowing through. She nearly shouldered an Ashwinder, and her quick change in direction to avoid him made her ankle flare in pain for a moment. She bit her lip to the point of tasting blood to keep from making a noise or cursing.

Just get inside, get inside, get inside!

She burst through the flaps, and she stumbled on her feet as she tried to slow to a stop. That same tart and sweet floral smell—tropical was the word that popped in her mind—filled her nose as she felt an arm around her collarbones. Natty kept her from falling forward, but then Imelda grunted at feeling someone collide behind her.

Garreth winced. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Her stupid ankle flared with pain again, but she gritted her teeth to power through it. “It’s fine. We’re running out of time.”

Whether she meant the potion or saving the kid, she didn’t know. Maybe both—no, definitely both.

They carefully crept through the massive hideout, avoiding creaking floorboards best they could. At least the Hogwarts castle prepared them from knowing by sight which floorboards would give under their feet.

They slowly went down a level, and Imelda’s heart felt like it was lodged in her throat. There were so many Ashwinders…

Imelda felt her vision blur and her heartbeat thunder in her head. She let out a sharp breath. What was going on with her? Her blood felt like it was burning, and her wand in her hand was shaking.

“Imelda?” Garreth worriedly asked.

She shook her head to dispel her magic rampantly pulsing from within. It was screaming to be used, clearly choosing fight over flight.

“We need to go,” she choked out.

“Arche isn’t here, there must be a way to go down another level,” Natty said.

“Let’s just follow a wall, and maybe we’ll find an alcove or something,” Imelda suggested.

They watched the wandering and pacing Ashwinders for a moment before they went along the left wall. They rounded a shelf, and they saw stairs leading up to a private room with curtains drawn. But they saw that there were descending stairs further into the alcove.

Imelda heard Natty go up the stairs, and she saw the curtains move a little. Her heart squeezed at seeing an Ashwinder pause and warily eye the area.

Natty returned to them and whispered, “Downstairs.”

Imelda and Garreth went after her, but the former had a dreadful feeling that they were losing their advantage…

Down the winding stairs, they found a secluded room full of chests and boxes with a large wooden cage in the center. Inside the cage was a boy curled up, hugging his knees and trembling like a leaf.

They hurried over and Natty quietly said, “Archie Bickle?”

The boy gasped and lifted his head. His red-rimmed eyes were wide and full of fear, darting around to try to find who said his name.

“It’s okay,” Garreth hurriedly told him as Imelda focused on the lock. “Your mother sent us, we’re going to get you out of here.”

“H-Harlow,” Archie whimpered as he stood up. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, but he started to tear up again. “H-He killed my father…”

Imelda casted Alohomora, and the lock fell off. “I’m sorry, kid,” she whispered. Archie jumped at hearing another voice. “Let’s first focus on getting you home safely, then we’ll take care of Harlow.”

Archie sniffled. “Okay.”

Garreth suddenly sighed. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, Archie, I should have brought an invisibility potion for you.”

Imelda was now kicking herself for not thinking the same either. They were running out of time for themselves anyway. “Just use Disillusionment.”

“Archie, just keep hold of my hand, okay?” Natty gently said, and then Archie blinked as his hand was lifted and held by thin air.

He nodded and choked out, “Okay.”

Imelda whispered the incantation for the Disillusionment Charm, and then the kid disappeared from view. She could still see his faint outline, but it would have to do.

“Come on,” Garreth urged.

Imelda waited until she heard Natty and Archie run up the stairs first, and then she blindly found Garreth’s back. “Go first,” she insisted.

He didn’t have time to argue, and Imelda heard him ascend the stairs before she followed behind. Every quick step up the stairs caused pain in her right ankle to shoot up. She merely clenched her jaw and kept going.

They were nearing the short hallway where the next flight of stairs were when Imelda saw with a piercing fear that the invisibility potion wore off. One by one, Natty, Garreth, and Imelda became visible.

“I knew there was someone!” An Ashwinder shouted.

“Get them!” Another exclaimed, and it wasn’t long before hexes and jinxes were sent at them.

They bolted up the stairs and ran across the circular, wooden landing. The entrance to the tent was so close…

“Reducto!”

A corner of the wall they were near suddenly exploded into wooden shards.

Imelda instantly whirled around and casted Protego. The Ashwinders had followed them all the way up here, and they didn’t hesitate to send more spells. Her wand arm shook from the impact of a Diffindo and Bombarda.

“Go!” She yelled over her shoulder.

“We’re not leaving you!” Garreth argued.

She huffed and glared at the Ashwinders relentlessly casting spells at her. Of course Garreth wanted to be noble and stay while she was being noble and buy them time.

Are you a Slytherin or not? Sebastian demanded in her mind. Be resourceful if you’re outnumbered or outmatched!

Imelda wildly searched for anything to use, but then she saw the Ashwinders were all on the circular landing…

“Garreth, cover me!” She ordered before dropping the Shield Charm. She knew she could trust him when he instantly casted Protego.

She crouched low and pointed her wand at the floor under the Ashwinders’ feet. “Bombarda!”

The floor exploded, wooden shrapnel went everywhere, and the Ashwinders yelled as they fell and crashed through the lower level.

She blinked as Garreth went down and held her with his back to the explosion.

They didn’t move until silence filled the air. Only then did Garreth move back and stare intently into her eyes.

“You’re alright?” He asked, his sea green eyes darting all over her face to check for injuries.

She nodded, still numb from the thought that she might have killed an entire camp of Ashwinders.

We don’t have time for this, she thought. But she still asked, “You?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.” He got up and helped her stand. “Come on, we’re almost out of here.”

They started to walk toward the flaps, and Imelda stiffened. “Wait, there are patrols out there too. Natty and Archie might have escaped—”

She spoke too soon as they heard raised voices.

“They could have been caught,” Garreth said, riddled with worry for his friend and the boy.

Imelda quickly pulled two Thunderbrews out of her legside pocket. She shoved one into his hand. “Together?” She asked.

“Together,” he affirmed with determination burning in his gaze.

They chugged the Thunderbrews, and Imelda exhaled out a dark plume of a storm cloud as a crackling sensation settled in her stomach.

They burst out of the tent and their eyes instantly landed on the protruding rock the Ashwinders were surrounding and sending curses at. Imelda gritted her teeth as she saw Natty quickly shoot a spell before ducking back behind the rock. She believed she caught the telltale stony-armor of Edurus, so at least Garreth’s potions were being used well.

Garreth ran up to behind the Ashwinders before casting Petrificus Totalus. One went still and fell over without making a noise.

Imelda did the same to another Ashwinder, and that caught more attention. The fiends turned around before their eyes widened as two thunderclouds billowed out above Garreth and Imelda.

Imelda used her magic to bring over a barrel and throw it at a bigger Ashwinder. He staggered in his stance before a light purple bolt struck him and made him crumple unconscious.

With the help of the two Thunderbrews, most of the Ashwinders went down from the protective lightning. Any that managed to survive those were taken care of with either a Stupefy or Petrificus Totalus.

When the thunderclouds dissipated, they didn’t have a moment to catch their breath.

Imelda yelled as the force of a Depulso from behind made her fly into the protruding rock, and she held up her arms in time for them to take the brunt. She groaned from the impact and fell onto the ground with her vision blurring and making her see double. Her ears started to ring, too, but she could have sworn she heard Archie on the other side of the rock stifle a cry.

“Imelda!” Garreth yelled, his voice wrought with panic.

She weakly pushed herself up and faintly gasped at seeing an Ashwinder get to Garreth. He grabbed a fistful of his hair, causing Garreth to hiss and reach up to stop the man. Then the man wrapped his arm around Garreth’s neck.

The Ashwinder right in front of Imelda snickered. “Is that your little beau?”

She glared at him, feeling pain and also fear pulsing harshly in blood. She wanted to say no, that wasn’t her beau, they weren’t courting. But she wasn’t going to waste her breath on this lowlife.

“And what about your other friend?”

Imelda looked to the right. Another Ashwinder got Natty too, holding her as she was obviously fighting back in his arms. She looked back at Garreth to see he was still struggling, but she saw his face was turning red. He was barely staying conscious, and his eyes met hers.

Whatever the Ashwinder was taunting her about, she couldn’t hear. Her magic was pounding in her ears, far louder than the Thunderbrew lightning. Fear for those she cared about coursed through her veins.

The smug shine in his eyes dwindled, and the smirk behind his mask probably dropped.

Imelda pointed her wand at the man, and he shouted as he was forced back. But he didn’t fall onto the ground like he would from the Banishing Charm. He was still suspended in the air, and Imelda glared daggers at him with bared teeth as she regained her stance.

She threw him down, and a large thud sound formed when he crashed into the ground. He weakly groaned, but it wasn’t enough.

They’re not safe yet, she thought as her wand was still starkly glowing white and pale blue.

She threw the man high up before forcing him down into the roof of the tent.

The other two Ashwinders gaped at her, and they started to loosen their holds on her friends. But Imelda saw Garreth’s hand fall limp, and she didn’t hesitate to point her wand at the Ashwinder. The man stumbled back and then imploded into thousands of flecks of dust. Garreth collapsed onto the ground, gasping and coughing as he regained his breath.

The last one—who had Natty—hurriedly let go and started backing up. Then he desperately waved his wand into a circle, sparks and embers emitted from his wand. She felt immense heat below her, and she saw the ground was crackling with fire.

There are some dark spells that can simply be returned by Expelliarmus, a way to disarm their unfair advantage, Sebastian said in her mind, something he once said during one of their duelling practices.

“Expelliarmus!” She barked, pointing her wand at the man.

She didn’t know what she expected, but a fire pillar suddenly forming where the man was standing wasn’t it.

Screams of agony echoed in her ears, and she couldn’t even look, tightly closing her eyes. That seemed imminent, though, as once the screaming ended, her mind grew hazy. Her knees gravitated to the ground, and she groaned from collapsing. She tried to open her eyes, but she was ridden with immense fatigue.

She could have sworn she still heard Garreth call her name before she fell into a deep sleep…

Chapter Text

Imelda groaned as she woke up, and she half-expected to see the woods she passed out in.

Instead, as her blurred vision slowly came to focus, she saw stone walls and a ceiling, along with a privacy screen.

Where…am I? She thought as she forced herself to sit up. Then she saw the sheets on her, as well as a muted blue comforter.

Memories crashed like tidal waves, overwhelming her with what transpired: Ashwinders falling through an exploded wooden floor; throwing an Ashwinder through the roof of the tent; vaporising another; causing the last one to burn in a fire pillar.

Those screams were ingrained into her mind…

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Imelda gasped—practically shrieking—as she moved back into the bedframe. She winced and groaned at the impact, mildly rubbing her back that rammed into the metal bars. Nonetheless, her heart felt like it was going to give out from how fast it was beating.

Artemis’ gaze flickered with sympathy. “I apologize, I should have announced my presence earlier.”

Imelda grimaced and looked at her fellow housemate. Only, Artemis was looking more the part of a Healer with the pale blue blouse and skirt and white apron tied over it. Her white hair was still in its usual crown braid, and she was holding a clipboard.

“I’m going to check and make sure everything is all healed,” Artemis explained as she brought out her notched, warm brown wand.

Imelda stayed still as she felt a faint warmth wash over her. She saw she was still wearing her attire from when she went out with Garreth and Natty.

Her eyes widened, and she looked around the Hospital Wing, trying to find them. “H-How did I get here?”

Artemis gave a short hum as she finished the spell. “Garreth.”

“When was this?” Imelda asked, a bit surprised by the quick and straightforward answer.

“An hour ago. He insisted on staying, but then Professor Weasley found him and wanted to converse elsewhere.” She shrugged as she checked her notes on her clipboard. “Natty too, with Professor Onai.”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed. That didn’t sound good if both that went out on a surprise adventure with her had to talk to their family members. Her stomach churned as her hands clung onto the comforter. Would that mean her parents would be notified? She hoped not.

Pairs of hurried footsteps echoed through the quiet room, and soon Natty and Garreth poked their heads around the screen.

Both Gryffindors breathed out sighs of relief upon seeing Imelda.

That’s a new reaction, Imelda thought.

“Thank Merlin you’re alright,” Garreth said as he and Natty approached her bed. Natty nodded, regarding Imelda with a small smile. Garreth turned to Artemis. “How is she?”

“Her twisted ankle and contused arms are all taken care of,” Artemis reported. Her forest green eyes held a knowing glisten, and she added to Imelda, “I’ll leave you to your visitors.”

“Thank you,” Imelda said before she left. Artemis gave her a faint smile to show it was no trouble, and then she walked away to resume her Healer-in-training tasks.

Once Artemis was out of earshot, Imelda asked them, “What happened after I blacked out?”

Natty and Garreth situated themselves to sit on either side of Imelda’s feet.

“We saw that…there were no longer any threats close by,” Natty started. “So, while I helped Archie and brought him back to his home, Garreth carried you.”

Garreth nodded while Imelda blinked in surprise. He chuckled. “Did you think I’d just leave you?”

“No,” she refuted. “But did Artemis tend to you too?”

He looked at her, confused. “What for?”

She waved to him. “Your neck from that strangle you were in for too long, and also your arm and shoulder from carrying me.”

“My neck is fine,” he dismissed. He gestured to it showing no redness or bruising. “And my shoulder wasn’t injured from carrying you.”

Natty started to look very amused. “Imelda, how did you think Garreth carried you?”

Imelda blushed at her assumption. “I—well, over the shoulder, as one does.”

Natty laughed while Garreth started to scratch the back of his head. “No, Imelda. He carried you in his arms.” She playfully hummed as she tapped her chin. “I think there’s a name for that style…”

“You were saying, Natty?” Garreth pointedly prompted with his ears reddening. Imelda’s cheeks were starting to match the shade as that mental image was on her mind.

Natty gave him one last teasing smile before going back to sharing what happened. She took Archie back home to Mrs. Bickle. After they had their tearful reunion, a team of Aurors came to handle both the crime scene as well as the Bickles’ statements. The hamlet contacted them while they were looking for Archie.

Singer was there, of course, so Natty told her what happened. And while that was going on, Garreth Floo’d himself and Imelda to the Hospital Wing.

When Natty reunited with them, Professors Onai and Weasley wanted words with them. The two Gryffindors got chewed out for going on a dangerous excursion (Singer notified them quickly enough), and putting their friend in danger too.

“Though if it weren’t for us, Archie would have been worse off,” Natty reasoned while crossing her arms. “Mother does not understand…”

“It wasn’t anything new from my aunt,” Garreth said with a shrug and detached tone. Imelda frowned a little at how he seemed used to it.

Natty glanced at him before focusing on Imelda with a solemn expression. “But, Imelda…what was that magic?”

Imelda stiffened as she felt even Garreth’s curious gaze on her. “Er…” She didn’t know whether she should let Natty in on her biggest secret. It was hard enough when she saw Natty apprehended by that Ashwinder.

…Who then burned to a crisp because of her. Imelda started to feel sick again.

“Natty, perhaps it’s best to table that question for some other time,” Garreth gently said.

She was about to protest, but she noticed Imelda looking green around the gills. “I’m sorry,” she sympathetically replied. She patted Imelda’s leg. “Do you want me to get you something from the Great Hall? It’s nearing dinner time.”

“Thank you, Natty, but I’m fine,” Imelda said. “But, do let me know if something else comes from this case with Bickle. There’s more going on, and—” She nodded to Garreth “—like he said, more power in numbers.”

Natty nodded and gave Imelda another small smile. “Of course. I’ll see you around.” Then she got off the bed and left the Hospital Wing.

Once she did, Imelda slowly let go of the comforter with her fingers stiff from her tight hold. She sighed and moved to place her hands on her lap. It was easier to look at them instead of her visitor.

“Thank you, for…” She trailed off, but Garreth understood.

“It’s not a problem,” he replied. “You’ve been through a lot, you don’t need to answer questions at this moment.”

Imelda nodded, and she could still envision what she did, right before her eyes. “I…might tell Natty. Just…not now,” she faintly said.

“It’s your secret, you can tell whomever you’d like.”

She sighed and put a hand to her head, feeling a small headache forming from her confusion. “What are you doing?” She tiredly asked, finally lifting her gaze.

Garreth blinked, obviously perplexed. “What do you mean?”

Her heart squeezed as she helplessly gestured with one hand. “Regarding me as if…nothing happened!” She looked away and her cheeks flushed with shame. She felt a lump in her throat, and she choked out, “After what I did…”

Silence lingered for only a moment, and she picked up Garreth taking a deep breath before he said, “Imelda, if you’re expecting me to look at you differently—in a bad way—after what you did, it’s not going to happen.”

She turned to him, seeing how grim he was with his furrowed eyebrows and set jaw. “Really?”

“I won’t say it wasn’t…” He hesitated to find the right word before settling with, “perturbing. But!” He quickly said, making sure she kept eye contact with him, and his eyes held nothing but determination. “It was to protect us and yourself.”

Imelda was stunned by how steadfast he was, and he tilted his head at her.

“Do you plan to go on a killing spree?”

The question took her by surprise, and she leaned back with an incredulous scoff. “No, of course not!”

Before she could reprimand him for saying something so asinine, his growing smile made her hold her tongue.

“I didn’t think so,” he simply replied. He tentatively reached out and covered her hand with his own.

Warmth spread from her heart and chest, the same kind that flooded her cheeks. A calm but exciting sensation quelled her guilt and anxiety the longer he held her hand.

“Ask me how I know.”

Imelda lifted an eyebrow at his earnest question, but she humored him. “How do you know?”

His gaze softened as his smile brightened. “Because it’s you.”

Her eyes widened a little, and her heartbeat quickened, touched by his words. She couldn’t help but wonder how he seemed to know just the right thing to say to assuage her worries.

She whispered, “Thank you, Garreth.”

“Of course.”

“Artie!” They heard Sebastian call out.

Garreth shot to his feet, withdrawing his hand from hers. Imelda frowned a little as she covered her hand with her other. She supposed she could at least appreciate the moment they had even though it was cut short…

Sebastian and Ominis rushed to the bed, and the former said, “We came as soon as we heard!”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed. “How did you know?”

“The word of gossiping portraits reached a ghost, one that found us,” Ominis answered. “One named…Richard? He said he knew you. Or, you two at least met.”

That took Imelda by surprise. Richard Jackdaw cared enough to let her friends know what happened? Now she felt a little guilty for how she treated him those few years ago, being abrasive and prickly even at twelve.

Garreth leaned on one leg. “Richard?” He turned to Imelda with a quizzical expression, but his gaze was hardened… “The ghost who helped you find an entrance to the Map Chamber?”

“The one and the same,” Imelda dismissively said with a deep breath.

“You should talk to him again,” Sebastian suggested. “He seemed to speak of you like you’re one of his last friends.”

He’s got a poor selection, then, she thought. “Maybe,” was all she actually said.

“Artemis said you’re good to leave,” Ominis chimed in.

“Thank Merlin,” she said as she got out of the bed.

“Are you really alright, though, Imelda?” Sebastian asked. He glanced at the bed and then back at her.

Imelda looked around to make sure no one was around them. She kept her voice low as she answered, “I…went unconscious from using more of my ancient magic than I’ve ever done.” She subconsciously rubbed her forearms. “It didn’t help that one Ashwinder got the better of me and I ran into a rock.”

“You what?” Ominis exclaimed with his pale blue ablaze with worry.

“There was a fight at one of their camps,” Imelda hurriedly explained, “they kidnapped a boy we later saved, I was surprised, that’s all.”

“How many times did you use ancient magic?” Sebastian asked.

Imelda grimaced as she easily remembered the instances. “Twice.”

Sebastian looked worried now. “That’s not much to make you fall unconscious.”

“Like she said, she was discombobulated,” Garreth offered.

Imelda sighed and held up her hands. “I’m fine.” Sebastian opened his mouth, but she firmly added, “Seriously, I’m fine. Now, let’s get out of here; I don’t want to be here longer than I need to.”

The evening passed soon enough, with Imelda eating a small dinner and spending the night tossing and turning for the most part. She kept reliving that experience, but her dreams often warped her memories where she would be too late to save Garreth and Natty. Or worse, her dreams fed her innermost fears and they looked at her like how the Keepers looked like Isidora in those memories—as if she did heinous acts and needed to be stopped.

She had never been more thankful that she routinely woke up so early in the morning.

Saturday was finally here, and Imelda was finishing her morning flying routine. It at least helped her mind go blissfully blank and she could relax, for even just a moment.

When she landed, though, she was taken by surprise to see Garreth in the middle of the field. He greeted her with a wave, wearing a maroon knitted jumper with a golden “G” with black trousers.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Garreth said once she was close enough.

“What did you want to talk about?” She asked as they started leaving the pitch.

“You, Sebastian, and Ominis are heading to Feldcroft today, right?” He scratched the back of his head. “I know that you wanted me to go in secret, but…”

She frowned and looked at him with incredulity. “You’re having second thoughts?”

He regarded her with a serious expression. “I’m decent friends with Sebastian too. I don’t want him to find out I snuck around his house without him knowing, even if it’s to know what’s going on with his sister and uncle.”

Imelda started to see what he was saying. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Why didn’t she think about that? Of course if Sebastian found out—and knowing how horrible of a liar she is, that’s a massive possibility—he’d be infuriated she kept such a thing from him. She didn’t want to lose his trust either.

“We can try to see if you can join us last minute,” she said.

Garreth relaxed. “Hopefully it’ll be fine; I’d like to see Anne again either way.”

She nodded, ignoring the senseless jealousy in her. “I’m sure she’d like more and more visitors. I’ll ask them when I change out of the uniform.”

“Okay.”

They walked to the Floo Station on the Flying Lawn and each grabbed a handful of the powder. With succinct declarations of “Lower Grand Staircase”, they were transported to a familiar stone hallway.

“Follow me,” Imelda said as Garreth was ruffling ash out of his hair. He picked up his pace to follow her as she was already heading to the Slytherin House entrance.

She made sure she didn’t go too fast so Garreth didn’t get lost. She could understand the turns in the dungeon could seem like a maze, but she was of course used to it.

They passed the broom closet where Garreth comforted her from her anxiety attack, and Imelda couldn’t believe that was only a month ago. It felt like years since then…

Eventually, they came to an open room with four pillars, and she purposefully walked up to the stone wall.

“Is this…?” Garreth quietly asked as he looked around.

“Yes,” she answered, having an idea of what he was wondering. She turned to him and shrugged. “You showed me your House, I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

He warily eyed her. “Do you want to or feel like you have to?”

“I want to,” she insisted. She shouldered her Night Dancer. “Besides, this will be quicker once we convince Sebastian and Ominis to have you join us.”

Garreth merely hummed as if he saw her point.

“Smaragdus anguis,” she said.

She smiled a little at Garreth jumping when the snake suddenly materialized and formed an arch.

“Not quite the same as your House,” she remarked.

“Certainly not,” he replied, but he looked curious beyond belief, and she reveled in the shine in his eyes.

“Come on.” Imelda went in first, and he followed after her.

They stepped into the common room, and Garreth turned in a circle as he took it all in. He did appear uneasy, though, when he noticed skylights. She knew he didn’t like deep water or anything to do with it, but…she was still selfish in wanting to show him this place.

She gently said, “I suggest you stay around here. We have larger windows further in that show the Black Lake.”

He merely nodded and cleared his throat. “Sounds good. Er…Where are they?”

Imelda searched the common room full of many housemates gawking at Garreth being in their House. She finally spotted familiar chestnut brown eyes, and she waved for Sebastian to come.

Sebastian looked bemused, but he nudged Ominis’ arm, and they promptly headed over. Ominis was wearing a Slytherin plaid vest uniform while Sebatian wore the Slytherin striped jumper over his shirt.

“Is today ‘bring your Gryffindor friend to Slytherin House’ day?” Sebastian quipped with a chuckle. He crossed his arms and smiled over his shoulder at their audience. “Imelda, I think you made half our House have heart attacks.”

“Garreth really is here?” Ominis asked, astonished.

“The one and only,” Garreth greeted with a smile.

Imelda took a deep breath and held tightly onto her broom’s strap as she said to Sebastian and Ominis: “I was wondering if…you two would mind if Garreth joined us at Feldcroft.”

Their expressions shifted instantly from shock to annoyance.

“Kind of last minute, don’t you think?” Sebastian asked, and she caught the way his fingers dug into his jumper’s sleeves.

“It was only supposed to be us,” Ominis said. “No offense,” he added to Garreth.

“None taken,” he muttered back.

Imelda held fast. “Garreth was friends with Anne too, and I’m sure she’d like to see him again. Not to mention, maybe he can help with her condition.”

Sebastian’s frown lessened, and he sighed. “Solomon is supposed to help with that,” he said, but she could tell he didn’t believe it. After all, if he really was…why was Anne still horribly affected by the curse?

“Mate, I don’t want to impose,” Garreth kindly spoke up, “but if I personally saw how she is, I could figure out the best concoction to brew for her.”

Sebastian stared at him for a long moment before he took a deep breath. “Well, we’ve tried everything else.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Tried finding answers for a goblin curse,” he darkly added, still angry at himself for “wasting time”.

Ominis patted his back before relenting. “I guess you can join us, Garreth.”

Garreth brightened, and he gave them a small smile. “Thank you, truly.”

Imelda was just as relieved they were willing to have him come with. Maybe Garreth could still find a way to see what Solomon was up to.

“I’m going to clean up, and then we can go,” she announced before jogging through the common room to her dorm.

She swiftly washed up and changed into her other Quidditch uniform with simple dark brown trousers.

When she regrouped with the three, the interest of a Gryffindor in the House waned, and everyone was back to what they were doing. She was more pleased to see that Garreth was making amicable conversation with Sebastian and Ominis; hopefully that meant there were no hard feelings for this sudden change in plans.

The four of them Floo’d right to Feldcroft, and Anne was at first surprised to see Garreth was with them, but she got over it quickly, excitedly beaming as she welcomed them all in. She even added that Solomon was away doing errands, so there wouldn’t be any problems there.

She gave her brother another quick hug before she showed them to the table. There were only four chairs, but Garreth was fine to stay standing.

Imelda saw the place where Solomon worked on the potions was closed off with the curtains pulled, separating that part of the house from them. She tapped Garreth’s arm and pointedly looked at that area. He caught on and nodded.

“It’s not even my birthday,” Anne playfully said as she regarded each of them with a bright smile. Imelda was surprised to see she looked…better, with the dark circles hardly evident, and the light in her chestnut brown eyes didn’t seem dulled.

Sebastian laughed from his spot right beside her. “You mean our birthday.”

Anne rolled her eyes and shoved him, her smile not dwindling for a moment. Ominis smiled to himself, pleased to hear this to his right.

“So, what’s new?” Anne excitedly asked while resting her head on her hands. “Anything…developed since last I saw you?” She coyly smirked as she glanced at all of them, but Imelda blushed as Anne’s gaze lingered on her the most.

Of course Anne thought Garreth being here was also a sign of courtship.

Imelda minutely shook her head, and Anne wrinkled her nose, obviously not liking that answer.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Well, I’m hoping to…introduce you to Estelle.”

“Oh, right! The muggle girl!” Anne smirked. “I’m glad to see she hasn’t lost interest in you.”

“Hey!”

“Believe me, I’m surprised he has a belle,” Ominis added with a teasing grin.

Sebastian sighed with a roll of his eyes. “She’s not my belle,” he grumbled. He drummed his fingers on the table. “Not officially.”

“No, you only just exchange love letters,” Anne continued to tease.

Sebastian blushed. “Well, Ominis still hasn’t gotten to—”

Ominis’s ears instantly turned pink. “Let’s not talk about that now.”

Anne looked at Ominis with a wolfish gleam. “Oh? Omi fancies someone?”

“He does?” Garreth asked, and Imelda looked over her shoulder. He was standing idle close to the curtain.

Ominis covered his red face with his hand, but Anne chuckled. “I wonder who’s got you all flustered, Omi! She better be a good one, I don’t want to have to go into Hogwarts and chase her down and give her what for.”

“She’s more than a good one,” Ominis tiredly said, but he had the tiniest smiles at the thought of her. “She’s…remarkable.” His smile went away, and he looked downcast. “I know she should be with someone better.”

Anne blew raspberries and waved it off. “Poppycock.” Imelda snorted to keep from laughing at how…nearly on the nose she was at who Ominis fancied. “You would be a wonderful gentleman to court! You’re a sweet and caring young man. She would be a fool to not like you.”

Ominis grimaced. “Anne, you know why I have reservations.”

Anne looked at him with some sympathy, and she put her hand on his shoulder. “That doesn’t mean you should let the past keep you from enjoying your present and future.”

“Since when did you become wise?” Imelda lightly asked.

Anne grinned. “Must be from my time here.” She sighed and leaned into the back of her chair. “It does make me restless.” She shuddered. “I got into knitting, that’s how bored I am.”

“I wouldn’t mind a scarf,” Sebastian joked, and she barked with laughter, and they all joined in with their own chuckles.

“If you want, Anne, I could ask someone to bring notes over to you. So you’re not too behind when you come back to Hogwarts,” Garreth offered.

Anne’s eyes flickered with recognition; she knew who Garreth was referring to. “Ah, well, thank you, Garreth, but I’ve managed fine with the materials Sebastian’s shared with me.”

Garreth understood and left it at that. He turned his attention back to the curtain, and Anne chuckled.

“You can practically smell the potion kit, can’t you?” She asked. She stood up and moved the curtains back. “It’s not that different from the ones every student has.”

Garreth respectively looked at the cubbies of ingredients with his hands behind his back. “Do you use it?”

Anne shook her head as she sat back in her spot. “Uncle Solomon does, mainly for my…condition,” she hesitantly said.

“He knows about the curse, Anne,” Sebastian explained. His expression turned grave, and he shifted in his seat to face her better. “In fact…that’s part of why we’re visiting too. We found out something.”

The light in Anne’s eyes went away like a wind blowing out a candle. “Sebastian…”

“No, Anne, this is important,” he insisted. He was quiet for a moment, racking his mind on how to say it. “Anne, a goblin didn’t curse you. A wizard did.”

She stared at him, and Imelda could see the gears turning as she processed it. “How do you know that?”

“We talked to some…experts,” Ominis tentatively explained. “They said that unless you touched something, goblins couldn’t have cursed you.”

Anne started to look defeated, and she started to breathe shakily.

Sebastian put his hand on her back as if to help ground her. “I know it’s a lot, Anne,” he gently said with a soft, worried expression. “But…Anne, if you can remember anything from that night, maybe we can find out who cursed you.”

“I-I don’t know…” Her eyebrows furrowed, then she gasped and clutched the side of her midsection.

Imelda froze in place, unsure what to do with something this drastic. Thankfully, Ominis and Sebastian seemed to move, with Ominis holding one of Anne’s hands while Sebastian pulled her into a side-hug.

“Anne, it’s okay,” her brother said. “I know it’s horrible to think back on, but—”

Anne groaned and bent over, and Imelda’s stomach flipped at how quickly her skin turned ashen. She panted as if it exerted her to even think. “I-I’m sorry—I can’t—I can’t—”

“What have you done?”

Imelda flinched at the harsh barking from behind her, and Ominis stiffened as well. Sebastian, however, was unfazed, and he glared daggers at the source.

Solomon strode over to the table, and he roughly pulled Sebastian away, and Anne’s breathing started to become more haggard and winded.

“You’re causing her more pain, boy,” he gruffly scolded with bite in his words.

Sebastian gritted his teeth and pulled his clothing out of Solomon’s grip. “I’m trying to help—”

“When will you learn?” Solomon yelled, and Ominis hastily hugged Anne, who was trembling. Whether from the curse or from the shouting, Imelda wasn’t sure. “There’s no cure!”

“You don’t know that!” Sebastian exclaimed with anger in his voice and eyes. “You gave up, but I won’t! Especially when we have new information that could lead to answers—”

Smack

Imelda couldn’t comprehend what just happened—it was faster than she could understand. But in the blink of an eye, Sebastian stumbled back with a raw, red handprint on his cheek. What pained Imelda the most was that…Sebastian stared at his uncle with unadulterated shock.

“Now, you listen here,” Solomon threatened while pointing his finger at Sebastian, who still had a brave face. “I will not tolerate any more of this foolishness. Your father was the same, always delving into books instead of doing something useful.”

“So that gives you the right to be a berk?” Imelda snapped.

Solomon turned to her as she got up from her chair. Unspeakable anger was burning in her veins, and she started to wonder if her Ancient Magic could be used to teach this twit a thing or two.

“This doesn’t concern you,” he tersely said before stepping toward her with a flinty gaze. Imelda didn’t move away, but she couldn’t deny the uneasy feeling within when he reached out to grab her shoulder.

A hand shot out and grabbed Solomon’s wrist, though, ceasing his intentions. Garreth glowered at the older man as he moved to stand between him and Imelda.

“If it doesn’t concern her, then don’t lay a finger on her,” he stoutly said before shoving his wrist.

Solomon harshly scoffed and glanced at each of them. “I don’t want any of you to visit Anne from here on out.”

“You can’t be serious!” Sebastian cried out as Anne gasped. “You can’t keep my sister holed up in here!”

“I will not have her be in pain from your presence, nor let you keep disrespecting me!” He looked at Sebastian with disdain. “Anne was fine until you decided to personally visit her. Use your rationality and explain that to me, boy.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything, and he slowly turned his head away. He morosely met Anne’s eyes, and she looked just as saddened. But she lowered her gaze, not saying anything, and leaned more into Ominis’s hold.

“The best thing for Anne is for you to leave. Now.” Solomon whipped out his wand. “Do not make me have to force you out.”

Imelda bared her teeth, and reached for her wand, but Garreth stopped her. He shook his head. He looked over at Sebastian and Ominis. “We should…we should go, guys.”

Ominis whispered a few words to try to comfort Anne before letting go of her and standing up. He went over to Sebastian, who seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

“Sebastian,” he quietly said.

Sebastian tightly closed his eyes with a grimace before he followed Ominis’ lead and walked out of the house.

“Bye, Anne,” he choked out.

“Bye,” she whispered.

Garreth and Imelda were the last ones to leave, and the last thing Imelda saw was Anne’s expression wrought with sorrow before the door closed.

~~~

The four Floo’d at Hogwarts North Exit, and Imelda checked on Sebastian. He only had a blank expression on his face with a glaze over his eyes. He seemed numb from what happened, and she could still see a pink mark standing out on his freckled cheek.

“Sebastian, do you…want to go—?” Ominis started to offer.

“No.” Sebastian breathed shakily. “That…will only bring more memories.” Memories of Anne with them in the Scriptorium, Imelda figured.

“Sebastian, while we were there—” Garreth started.

“Maybe another time, Garreth,” Imelda interrupted.

He put a hand to his head, full of shame. “Of course, I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Imelda had an idea, but Sebastian might not be up for it. It was the best she could offer, though. “Ominis, Garreth, can you give us a moment?”

The blond and redhead seemed surprised. Ominis looked like he wanted to protest, but Garreth tapped his shoulder.

“Sure. We’ll…see you both inside,” he said for them. Ominis conceded and followed the Gryffindor to the grounds.

With Sebastian and Imelda alone, she turned to him. “Come on, I’ll take you somewhere,” she quietly said.

“I’m not in the mood to go flying somewhere,” he roughly said with a tightened voice.

“I know, but it’s a small walk from here.”

They walked in silence, and Sebastian didn’t even remark his surprise when she led him through the Forbidden Forest. With it being broad daylight out, the forest didn’t seem too dangerous, but she kept her guard up all the same.

It wasn’t long before she brought Sebastian to her place, with the birdbath and the pond.

“Unless you’ve ventured this far into the forest, I don’t think this will bring up any memories for you,” she said as she moved to sit cross-legged on the shore.

Sebastian stared at her before slowly following suit, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with her. He pulled his legs close and hugged his knees.

“You’re right, I’ve never been here,” he faintly said.

Imelda was satisfied, knowing she was right with her intuition. She stayed quiet, not wanting to break a silence Sebastian sought after, lest she bother him. The small breeze caused ripples, which caused the tiniest of waves on the rocky shore. The air was rich with pine and earthy smells, with the occasional bird call and rustling leaves keeping it from being dead silent.

“It reminds me of the Black Lake,” he eventually said, resting his head on his knees. “But, it’s different all the same.” He took a deep breath and slowly reached up to brush his fingers by the fading mark.

Imelda felt that same anger rise in her, and she tamped it down. It would only cause Sebastian to be riled up, and that was not what she brought him here for.

“Has he…ever struck you before?”

“No,” he answered. “He’s only verbally belittled me.” He derisively laughed. “I must have tried his patience one too many times.”

Imelda stared at her lap, feeling her heart twist at the detached, accepting tone in his voice. “I’m sorry, all the same, Sebastian.”

He sniffed. “I just wish he didn’t make Anne so miserable, keeping her from seeing anyone now.” His breathing shook more, and he looked at Imelda with his eyes vulnerable and red-rimmed. “But…what if I am causing her pain? What if she is suffering because of me?”

“That’s not it,” Imelda adamantly said, shaking her head.

“She was fine, you saw her!” He looked back out at the pond and a tear fell from the corner of his eye. “Then I opened my big, dumb mouth…”

“Sebastian—”

“I can’t lose her too, Imelda,” he sadly said, and his shoulders started to shake, and he breathed faster. “I can’t—I can’t lose her too…”

Imelda didn’t think before she wrapped her arm around him, and he cried on her shoulder. Her heart sank as she continued to comfort him.

Gone was his cocky attitude and witty and teasing remarks. Gone was his bravado and determination.

All that remained was a boy, scared to lose his only family he had left.

And a girl that could never understand but only be there for him…

Chapter Text

The next morning was tense with Ominis and Imelda feeling like they were walking on eggshells around Sebastian. They wanted to talk to him about what happened, but they didn’t know how to approach it. Which led to all three of them being silent all through breakfast.

After that, Sebastian went where he felt most at home: the library. While Ominis got books about beasts and Charms, Imelda looked into potions, and Sebastian scoured texts on ancient curses from wizards.

Imelda couldn't just ignore or drop what happened; Solomon was already on her mind since she was trying to find a potions description that matched what she saw.

She looked up at Sebastian for the thousandth time. She couldn't forget how vulnerable — broken — he was with her. Upon seeing his passive expression as he meticulously skimmed through pages, her guts were screaming with a need to do something. She was now more involved than ever with Sebastian and others, and she wasn't backing out anytime soon.

She closed her book and Ominis straightened in his seat, sensing what she was going to say.

“Sebastian.” He only hummed, still transfixed by what he's reading. Imelda leaned forward. “You should talk to a professor about what happened.”

He didn't say anything, with the corners of his mouth twitching.

Imelda loathed the silence — no, she loathed being ignored.

“Sebastian.”

He merely flipped a page.

Irritation flared like Confringo, and she was tempted to stomp on his foot and even snatch the book from him. But she only clicked her tongue. “Sebastian, you know Anne shouldn’t—”

“And what?” Sebastian darkly asked, keeping his eyes on the book. “Who could take us in?” He wasn’t bothering to read, merely boring a hole into the pages. “My parents are dead, there are no grandparents or other aunts or uncles to turn to.”

Imelda’s impatience dwindled at his hollow tone, and she could barely keep eye contact when Sebastian finally lifted his gaze to hers.

“Tell me, Imelda, where could we go?” Sebastian asked. Despite the anger in his voice, she caught the helpless look in his eyes. After yesterday, she felt like she could read him better.

“Imelda’s right,” Ominis quietly said. “Maybe one of the professors could find a solution.”

Sebastian scoffed and closed the book — there was no point reading it now. “And what about you?” Ominis stiffened as Sebastian looked at him with worry. “We can’t guarantee you’ll be grouped with us if we got help.”

Ominis stayed quiet, paling by the second. Would he have to go back to his family if he couldn’t stay with the Sallows?

“So you want to bear with him because you don’t see other options?” Imelda asked.

Sebastian clenched his jaw. “I just want to help Anne. Once Anne is cured, then I can try to figure out a better place for us. For now, Solomon has been taking good care of her. That’s enough for me.”

Imelda bit her tongue to keep from telling Sebastian her suspicions. After what Solomon did, she didn’t want to bring more incrimination without proof, especially when she was already touching this sore subject.

“Just think about it, both of you,” she said as she got up and took her potions book with her. “I have to get to Hogsmeade.”

Ominis and Sebastian perked up. “Ah, that’s right,” the former said before slyly adding, “Have fun with your date.”

She rolled her eyes as Sebastian chuckled. “It’s not a date,” she protested, but she was at least pleased to see Sebastian remotely happy again. “I’ll see you guys later.”

They waved to her before they poured over their books again. She checked hers out from Scribner, who seemed to still be skeptical of her ever since she returned that Restricted Section book.

Imelda traversed through the castle and found herself going on the Viaduct Bridge. She didn’t know when her routine changed to involve this new scenery, but she didn’t mind the fresh air. Or…maybe there was another reason she kept going this way. She looked ahead and blushed the slightest at seeing Garreth in his usual spot. Though he seemed to be in a deep conversation with someone…

Once she was going up the stairs of the Viaduct Courtyard, she finally noticed it was Nellie that Garreth was talking to. Seeing the two in their own world talking about this or that made Imelda feel like she ate something rotten.

It wasn’t like there was anything between her or Garreth, though! They weren’t courting or anything, Garreth could talk to whomever he’d like and the same with her.

Get a hold of yourself, she hissed in her mind before she tried to walk up and past them.

“…sounds vaguely romantic,” Imelda heard Nellie thoughtfully say. “In a…strange, maybe cold kind of—”

“H-hey, Imelda!” Garreth loudly said over Nellie, instantly turning to lean his back against the stone balustrade. His ears and face were pink from the cold, but his smile was warm like usual. “I didn’t even notice you walked up here!”

She glanced at Nellie, who seemed to be regarding her with an innocent expression. That rotten feeling festered in her stomach again.

She turned her attention back to Garreth as she said, “I’m just on my way to see Isaac. We’re going to Hogsmeade to get work on our brooms done.”

His smile dropped. “You’re…going to Hogsmeade? With Isaac?”

“Yes.”

Garreth let out a fake, short laugh. “Well, I mean, of course you are.” He scratched the back of his head as he looked down at his feet. “He’d be a prat to not…” He mumbled before trailing off.

Imelda was about to head into the castle before she turned on her heel to face him. “Wait…you’re not…” She couldn’t help the scoff that forced itself out of her mouth. “You’re not jealous?”

Garreth instantly looked up at her, offended and indignant. “Of course not!” He exclaimed with a forced laugh. “I’m just surprised you’re going with him.”

“Right,” she said, smiling with some amusement. “As if we’re not housemates with the same interest in flying and Quidditch.”

His eyes enticingly darkened as he scowled. Then he crossed his arms and looked away, muttering, “Have a nice date.”

“Not a date,” she clarified with a sigh. “But I’ll see you around.”

Imelda headed up the stairs again, and she heard Nellie and Garreth converse like before. She had to admit it: the rotten feeling deep within lessened. She also kept thinking back to the electrifying look in Garreth’s sea green eyes when he seemed jealous. Was it bad that she didn’t mind how her heart skipped beats at the sight? Where she longed to see as much of the storm as the calm?

Garreth never left her mind, it seemed, as she prepared to meet with Isaac.

~~~

Imelda wore her Slytherin jumper and tan trousers as her Night Dancer’s strap rested on her shoulder.

The last time Imelda was in Hogsmeade, she was with a group. This time, she was here with only one other: Isaac.

Isaac walked beside her, wearing a casual, cream shirt under a black coat as well as black trousers. His own Night Dancer was held over his left shoulder.

Maybe if things were different, Imelda would have been blushing and flustered in such a circumstance. But she was cool and calm, walking with purpose.

Still, she wanted to fill the silence, so she asked, “How’s seventh year going?”

“It’s going well!” Isaac answered with an easy grin as they passed Tomes & Scrolls. “Even if I didn’t get to finish my Hogwarts years as a Quidditch Captain.”

“Oh, have you heard from Kogawa yet?” She curiously asked.

They reached Spintwitches Sporting Needs, and Isaac opened the door for her to enter first.

After she thanked him and he walked in after her, he said, “She did send a letter to the Ministry. Hopefully we’ll hear something before the end of this term.”

Imelda nodded. “Sounds good.”

Isaac turned to her with a thoughtful expression. Before he voiced his musings though, Albert Weekes came out from the back while fiddling with a Quaffle. He wore a red Quidditch patterned jumper, but now it felt like whenever Imelda saw red, her mind jumped to a specific Gryffindor…

His eyes shone behind his spectacles. “Ah! A pleasure to see you both!” He cheerfully greeted. He set the Quaffle down and approached them. “I have been most excited for spectacular flyers to try my latest innovation.”

Albie briefly looked at the two over his glasses. “And you’re the best of your classmates?”

“Of course!” Isaac brightly answered. He wrapped his arm around Imelda’s shoulders. “Imelda here was closest to my flight time of two and a half minutes!”

Imelda blushed out of modesty and even shame from her dismal time. “I wasn’t at my best either, though.”

Isaac smiled sympathetically and gently patted her head. “Then it means you’ve certainly earned the right for this new broom development.”

She couldn’t help but return the smile with her own. “Thanks, Isaac. The same is said for you too.”

He chuckled and patted her back. “Thank you, Imelda.” He focused back on Albie. “So, what’s in store for our brooms?”

“I intend to enhance their speed,” Albie eagerly explained. “Just a few tweaks, and your broom will be more attuned to your direction and you shall accelerate faster than your fellow fliers.” He held out his hands. “If I may?”

Isaac handed over his broom with no problem and complete trust. Imelda, however, was slower to take her broom off her shoulder. She…wasn’t used to anyone aside from her family touching her broom. But she came here for a reason, so she gathered enough willpower to hand it over.

Albie stared thoughtfully at brooms in his hands, even looking over his glasses at them.

“They’re both Night Dancers,” he muttered, then he held up Imelda’s, “but this is an older generation.”

Imelda crossed her arms. “It’s been my first and only broom for ten years.”

“Ten years! It’s been well-kept.”

Pride swelled in Imelda’s heart as she smiled. “Thank you.”

Albie nodded to her, obviously impressed. “I’ll be right back.” Then he went off to presumably his office to begin his work and tinkering.

Imelda dwelt in the silence, heading over to look at the brooms on display. An Ember Dash, a Yew Weaver, and also a Moon Trimmer.

“I didn’t know that broom has been yours for so long,” Isaac said as he walked over to join her. He looked at the Moon Trimmer with slight interest. “Your protectiveness of it now makes more sense.”

Imelda glanced at him and then leaned on her other leg. “I guess we don’t know each other that well.”

“I guess not,” he said with reluctant acceptance. “Oh!” He turned to her with a smile as bright as a candle. “I plan to have the second flying trial soon. I still need to make arrangements, but I plan to have it in Irondale.”

“Right,” Imelda said, remembering the one trial near Hogwarts was the first of many. “Sounds good.”

Isaac's smile dwindled, and his eyes flashed with concern. “Imelda, what’s wrong?”

Imelda started to feel restless, especially under his gaze. She wandered over to the window, watching people walk by.

“What do you mean?” She eventually asked.

“You don’t…seem enthusiastic about flying anymore,” Isaac gently said.

She heard him come closer, but she kept her eyes on the people out there. She blinked out of surprise. Was that Natty? What was she doing here?

“I just have a lot on my mind,” she hastily said. Memories of Miriam, Eleazar, Lodgok, Natty, Poppy, Garreth, and of course Sebastian and Ominis flashed before her eyes. Her shoulders felt heavier while her chest tightened as she thought about her “responsibilities” with the ancient magic too. She had to look more into Isidora, as well as still await for San Bakar’s go ahead for the last trial.

With all that was going on, flying and even Quidditch felt trivial to her now.

“Is there anything I could help with?” Isaac quietly asked, and in the corner of her eye, she saw him hesitantly lift his hand.

“I’m afraid not, Isaac,” she softly answered, and his hand stopped. Whether he was going to put it on her shoulder, her back, or even her head, she didn’t know. She sighed as she didn’t want to see the expression on his face. “It’s…far more than you need to be worried about.”

Especially since we’re practically strangers off the Pitch, she somberly thought.

“I’m sorry, then.” There was a pause. “Imelda.”

She finally looked up at him. His forest green eyes offered care and sincerity and warmth, but…the sea offered that to her too.

“You are a remarkable flier, and you’re talented in Quidditch,” he said in a quiet passion. He smiled a little to encourage her. “Don’t forget that. You’re one of the best players this school has ever seen, and I ask that you don’t squander this gift you clearly have. Even if there’s a lot going on for you now.”

Imelda processed what he said, and while she appreciated the care he had for her, it didn’t hit as well as it could have in a different time.

For now, all she could think was how there was more to life than Quidditch. She wanted more than just Quidditch. She was forced into so many things this year, but she couldn’t change that. It made her wonder if she even wanted to if it were ever possible.

Is there more to me without Quidditch? She wondered.

“And here we are! New and improved without any scratches!” Albie announced.

The two Slytherins turned to him and gingerly took back their brooms.

Imelda relaxed from the feeling of polished wood in her hands again. She faintly smiled as she sensed her broom was happy to be back to her too. No matter what, she didn’t think she’d lose flying as a part of herself. That was enough of a solace for her.

Imelda and Isaac thanked Albie, and the shop owner in return said he looked forward to their feedback.

As they were leaving, Isaac turned to her. “Say, Imelda, would you be—?”

“Isaac Cooper?” Garreth called out while he and Natty came from The Three Broomsticks. Garreth’s eyes landed on Imelda, and her face flushed as if he made it so. “And Imelda!” He chuckled and put his hands on his hips. “What a coincidence!”

Right, a “coincidence”, she thought. She noticed the casual wear of her friends too, with their jumpers and house robes to keep them warm.

Natty shook her head at her housemate and then waved. “Hello.”

“Hey, Natty,” Imelda said as she shouldered her broom. Then she turned to Isaac, whose eyes were glittering with amusement. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Natty cleared her throat. “I was in the middle of something, so I’ll see you two later.” She looked pointedly at Imelda and the Slytherin straightened. This had to be about the Bickles.

“Okay, I’ll see you at our rendezvous spot!” Garreth said before he looked at Isaac, waiting.

Isaac ran a hand through his hair as he glanced between the two fifth-years. He simply smiled and said to Imelda, “I was going to offer you a butterbeer for your time, but perhaps we should rain check. I have a feeling you’re rather busy. “

Imelda blinked. She wasn’t expecting Isaac to get her a butterbeer. She wryly thought how months earlier, she probably would have jumped over the moon at such an invite.

Instead, all she said was “oh. Yeah, maybe another time.”

Isaac smiled more and patted her back. “I’ll see you around. Probably at the next flying trial?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Until then.” He nodded to Garreth, who had a blank expression on his face. “See you around, Weasley.”

“You too,” Garreth said.

Once Isaac walked away, Imelda rounded on Garreth. She crossed her arms. “What was that about?”

“I should be asking that!” Garreth softly exclaimed. The same dark look overcast his eyes. “It seems like he wanted to do more than have your brooms upgraded.”

Imelda scoffed. “Are you talking about the butterbeers?”

“I think he wanted more than just a butterbeer,” he grumbled.

“Really?” She dryly asked with a lifted eyebrow. “Why do you think that?”

Garreth vaguely gestured to her. “Because it’s you.”

This again? She impatiently thought. “And that means…?”

Garreth lost the dark look in his eyes, and he acted…shy. He toed the brick street as he scratched the back of his head. “Well… I just mean that when a chap normally offers to get a girl a butterbeer, it’s usually not for platonic reasons.”

Well, now that intrigued her. “Is that what happened when you bought me a butterbeer the last time we were here at The Three Broomsticks? With the others?”

Garreth’s cheeks pinkened—was he flustered or cold? The brisk air was getting to her too. “That was…different. We were with our friends, and so…”

A memory suddenly resurfaced of their first Hogsmeade visit of the year. Right before the troll came, Garreth said something…

“Wait,” she said, dropping her arms before she continued. “You also offered to buy me a butterbeer before that troll came. What were your intentions then?”

His eyes comically widened. “I-I didn’t know you heard me then.”

“I was a little distracted, but in hindsight, I can now remember it better.”

Garreth cleared his throat. “When you bring up those examples…I suppose you’ve disproven my claim.”

Imelda didn’t know the sinking feeling was bitter disappointment until she realized she was hopeful he’d say something different.

Why would he though? Because I'm me? Whatever that means, she defeatedly thought.

“Imelda—”

“What’s going on with Natty?” She asked to abruptly change the subject.

Garreth frowned a little, but he abided to her question. “Archie apparently told her about Mr. Bickle's friends that were blackmailed by Harlow.”

Imelda quickly put it together. “She wants them to testify against Harlow.”

Garreth nodded. “She had one more to find and talk to, at Gladrags.”

“We should go find her, then.” Imelda said, still anxious from the recent Ashwinder encounter.

They took quick strides to Gladrags, but a quick look inside and walk around the outside was enough to concern them.

Natty was nowhere to be found.

Garreth cursed under his breath. “I should have just gone with her. I’m such a prat.”

“You’re not a prat, but we need to find her as soon as possible,” Imelda said, already looking around the town for their friend. “Time is of the essence.”

Garreth snapped his fingers. “Maybe she’s at the rendezvous spot.”

Imelda had a different idea come to her, though, remembering a trick Natty used. “Wait, let me try something.”

“Revelio is quite the useful spell when you’re more specific about what you’re looking for.” Natty had said.

Imelda concentrated on wanting to find Natty's footprints as she took out her wand. With a wave of it, she said, “Revelio.”

Footprints started to show, glowing an outline and standing out from the trodden and brick paths. They led south, through the town circle, and further on.

“This way,” she said, starting to follow the trail.

Garreth was quick to follow her, and they saw the footprints suddenly change direction as if the person was taken and partly dragged.

They were passing the Three Broomsticks and Isaac was coming out. Imelda had to dig her heels in to stop before she ran into his chest. Isaac hurriedly stumbled back.

“Imelda?” He caught their distress and instantly grew concerned. “What’s going on?”

“Natty was taken,” Imelda answered. She could see the glow of the footprints die off. “We need to follow the trail.”

Isaac was barely grasping what he was hearing, and he solemnly said, “I think I saw Singer conversing with other Aurors.”

“Great, tell them about this. We’re going to keep going after this lead,” she hurriedly said before casting the spell again and running with Garreth after the prints.

“Imelda!” She heard Isaac call after her, but she ignored him.

Natty’s footprints led them to the little docks behind Hog’s Head before they faded away again.

Imelda was about to cast the spell again, but Garreth slowly walked to a stack of crates. He carefully picked up a wand that was left there.

“This is Natty’s,” Garreth grimly said.

Imelda eyed the wand and softly sighed. “How could she lose it so easily?” Now Natty was defenseless, and that only worried Imelda even more…

Garreth looked at the wand and then at the crates. “She left it on purpose.”

“Why?”

“She can cast wandless magic. It’s how they cast in Uagadou.”

Imelda suddenly remembered the time Natty used Alohomora at that castle they got the hippogriffs from. She didn’t use her wand for it. “That explains a bit,” she muttered.

Garreth carefully stowed Natty’s wand away. “Try Revelio again.”

Imelda did so, and they saw the footprints lead around Hog’s Head and into a walk-out basement. The wooden doors were shut with tarnished bronze rings waiting to be pulled open.

Garreth let out a long breath before he turned to Imelda. “I don’t have any potions on me this time.”

Imelda hesitated as her heart erratically beat again. They wouldn’t have advantages like before, but Imelda didn’t want to fathom what they could be doing to Natty.

As frustrating as it was for Natty to go and pursue leads mostly alone, of course Imelda didn't want anything to happen to her.

She closed her hands into fists for a moment before she grabbed one of the rings and tugged. The door creaked, but she forced back any terror she had.

Gryffindors didn’t have a monopoly on bravery, and it was time Imelda took some for herself.

She snuck in with Garreth carefully closing the door behind him as he followed her. They were in a cellar with three large keg barrels propped on their sides. The center barrel was vastly larger than the other ones, and it didn’t have a tap either. They noticed as well that the smaller barrels were on racks with the ends far ahead…

Garreth and Imelda Accio’d the rings on the barrels, making them slowly slide forward to stop at the end.

The middle barrel lid swung up, revealing a doorway. Imelda and Garreth put on Disillusionment Charms before anything else. She quickly took off her broom and tucked it in a corner by one of the barrels. Hopefully no one would find it while they're gone. Then they advanced, staying low.

They went through a room and a hallway before making it to a landing with a railing that overlooked another floor.

Down there was a group of Ashwinders, no more than ten, anxiously pacing with their wands at the ready.

“It’s not going to work,” one Ashwinder grumbled.

His comrade, who had a stickier build, crossed his arms and added, “Using that girl as bait? No one’s coming for her. We ought to just kill her.”

Imelda heard a sharp inhale beside her, and she naturally found Garreth’s shoulder to reassure her. They needed to find Natty soon before they were antsy for action.

The first Ashwinder gruffly said, “Only a Hogwarts student would be arrogant enough to come in here alone.”

Ha! Imelda thought. There are two Hogwarts students here. Shows what you know.

Imelda looked to her right and saw a doorway. She squeezed Garreth’s shoulder, prompting him to follow her lead. It brought them to stairs, and as they crept down them, Imelda whispered,

“Remember Niamh’s trial? We’ll get past them like that.”

“At least they’re not literal Death,” Garreth whispered back.

Though in both of their minds, no doubt, they knew death wouldn’t be far behind if they were caught.

“Clearly, you underestimate the lengths young ones would go for friends or loved ones,” a dry feminine voice said authoritatively when they neared the entrance to the room.

They slowly got behind a wall of crates as they found the person belonging to the last voice. A woman was in blood red robes with her black hair kept back in a bun. Her face was mostly hidden by a pearly mask, showing only her lips pressed thin.

A poacher in purple robes and animal skull mask scoffed beside her. “How’s your dear, by the way?” She crooned.

The woman turned to her and sharply said, “Do not be coy; I know Angus gave you just as costly consequences when you lost that blasted helmet under your command.”

The poacher’s bitter silence was telling and filled the room with tension.

Imelda never considered what would happen to those people when she and Miriam Disapparated with the Helm of Urtkot. Not that she felt bad for them; she just didn’t realize how much Harlow and Rookwood ruled with iron fists. From the sounds of this conversation, it sounded like loved ones were even used as leverage for obedience and compliance, instead of merely having loyalty.

Imelda stopped from mulling that over any more as she and Garreth walked a wide circle clockwise. They came across a bar counter with keg barrels that smelled more smoky than sweet like butterbeer. If Imelda had to guess, they were full of firewhisky.

Thankfully, no one was inclined to have a pint, and they had enough time to see what was waiting for them up the wooden stairs.

Imelda felt sick upon seeing Ashwinders like the one she caused to die from his own fire pillar. If they had the same kind of tactic, she didn’t want to fight them.

It was painstaking to wait for the right time to slip through, but they managed to do it, scurrying as quietly as they could up the stairs.

Chills ran down Imelda’s spine, however, as if someone’s eyes were on them as they made it to the next area…

More stairs to the side led to another landing of two Ashwinders making small conversation. They slipped past them and into a thin, stone hallway that opened to a room with two cell doors.

“Natty!” Garreth called out in a whisper.

The Gryffindor perked up at the cell door to the left. Her onyx eyes lit up as Garreth dropped his cloaking spell. Even more when Imelda did the same.

“I am so glad to see you two,” Natty said with a relieved smile. She thanked Garreth as he slipped her wand to her between the bars. “I knew you’d understand why I left it.”

Garreth nodded before he softly said, “Natty, I’m so sorry. I should have just gone—”

“Water under the bridge, my friend,” she dismissed with a pleasant smile. “Let us just get out of here.”

Imelda tapped the tip of her wand on the lock of Natty’s door.

“Alohomora won’t work; I tried it wandlessly, and not one tumbler moved,” Narty said. She pointed to the fedora-wearing man in the other cell. “Ask Mr. Rabe. I believe he can help.”

Imelda checked down the hallway as she went across the room. It looked like no one noticed them yet. That was good, at least.

She went to the cell door and asked in a low voice, “Mr. Rabe, can you unlock the doors?”

“Yes, of course,” he quietly said as he anxiously tightened his grip on the bars. “The locks are cursed, and there’s an Anti-Apparition Jinx in these cells.”

“Of course there are,” Imelda sighed.

“But I know the proper spell,” Rabe reassured. “You just need to find my wand. It’s the best way to avoid detection.”

“Any idea where it is?”

“I just know it’s close - I can sense it.”

Imelda and Garreth instantly started looking all over the table in the room and any cubbies or shelves in it. Imelda saw a strange flyer mentioning a “Horntail Hall” and a ledger of some kind with the same title, but no wand.

Garreth snorted, calling her attention. He gestured to the chest on the table with a grin. “It has to be in here.”

“Unlock it, I’m keeping watch,” Imelda said as her eyes stayed on the hallway. Her ancient magic was frantically pulsing, but she did her best to ignore it. They were barely lucky at the last Ashwinder hideout, and she knew they didn’t stand a chance against both Ashwinders and poachers.

Garreth whispered the usual spell, and a moment later, the chest opened. He quietly said “aha”, presenting a wand. Rabe himself straightened, and he thanked the two of them with relief clear in his voice when he was reunited with his wand.

“Now, you’d best stay back; one never knows how a curse will react to being broken,” Rabe advised.

Imelda and Garreth moved over to where Natty was, keeping their eyes on the entrance. Still no sign of anyone seeing them. They could hear Rabe mutter an incantation, so all they could do was wait.

“I thought you were going to tell me,” Imelda started saying to Natty over her shoulder, “when there would be a new development about this.”

“I planned to tell you after I talked to all of Mr. Bickle’s friends that were being blackmailed,” Natty explained. “But that was when a couple Ashwinders got me.”

Imelda turned to face her. “Natty, you’re starting to get in over your head,” she said in a lowered voice. Garreth was still keeping watch, but he was listening in. Imelda continued in spite of seeing Natty frown: “Who knows what would have happened if we weren’t here?”

“Someone had to do something,” Natty insisted.

Annoyance made Imelda blurt out, “You’re fighting a battle that was never yours. I don’t even want to fight in mine, don’t risk your life as if it’s meaningless.”

Natty stared, mystified by the grim expression Imelda carried. She hesitated as if she was trying to find words. But then Rabe got out of his cell and came over to get Natty out.

Imelda and Garreth moved away, and she muttered, “Don’t say anything.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he replied. He looked at her with understanding; he knew everything she was going through, after all.

“Thank you,” she whispered as Natty was finally free from her cell.

Once Rabe and Natty joined them, Garreth quietly gave them a run-down of what was out there.

Rabe blinked. “You…didn’t take care of them before?”

Imelda gave him an “are you serious?” look before saying, “We haven’t learned how to defeat an entire group of dark wizards in Defence Against the Dark Arts yet.”

Rabe blanched, and then he dropped his gaze. “Er…I apologize.” He thoughtfully offered, “I could try to Apparate us out of here, but I worry I’m too weak.”

“It is alright, Mr. Rabe, you go and find Officer Singer,” Natty said. “We will get out of here soon enough.”

Rabe hesitated before he nodded and Disapparated with a pop.

Imelda turned to Natty. “What do you mean by ‘we’ll get out of here soon enough’?” She asked with her hands on her hips.

Natty grew solemn. “Harlow had items he took from Bickle’s friends to blackmail them. We need to get that leverage back.”

“Do you know where it would be?” Garreth asked while Imelda was thinking in angry Spanish.

“If I were to guess, it would be with someone Harlow trusts.”

Imelda pinched the bridge of her nose. “...like the leader of this group.”

Garreth’s eyes widened as he caught on. “But she’s in the middle, how can we get to her?”

“A distraction?” Natty suggested.

One idea came in Imelda's mind, and she took a deep breath “Follow my lead.”

They all Disillusioned and snuck back to the two Ashwinders that were on the same landing as them. Natty and Garreth instantaneously casted Petrificus Totalus on the two, and they went down, still as statues.

At this vantage point, Imelda carefully pointed her wand over the landing’s railing right at the wall of keg barrels.

She gathered her courage and uttered, “Confringo.”

Sebastian would have been proud from the size of the fireball that blasted into the barrels. Then even more so when the fireball struck through the wood and into the firewhisky. The entire wall of barrels exploded, and all of the Ashwinders and poachers yelled in shock as some of the fire even landed on their robes.

“Put it out, you fools!” The leader barked.

“Now,” Imelda hissed, and they hurried down the stairs while chaos ensued. Some poachers were yelling blame at Ashwinders, complaining about playing Exploding Snap too close. Others were haphazardly casting Aguamenti at the remnants of the hideout.

“Someone is in here! Check the prisoners!” The leader yelled once the three were outside the chaos. Imelda’s throat went dry at seeing those bigger Ashwinders run up. They would soon raise the alarms even more, and the fire was nearly out.

“Get to her,” Imelda ordered before she ran off to the opposite side of the room.

She searched for a random crate of the right dimension, and then she focused on the Transfiguration spells she learned while she conjured a particular image. It took a few agonizing tries, but she finally Transfigured a crate to be an exploding canister like ones she had in Rackham's and Rookwood's trials.

Imelda lifted the canister with her wand glowing pale blue from use of ancient magic, and she spun around to build momentum. She threw it into the corner by the poachers and Ashwinders, and the explosion made them all fly back with their robes burning up again.

The leader sharply turned, her eyes narrowing behind the mask. Imelda stiffened as she could have sworn the woman saw her. She even started walking in her direction, but then she suddenly crumpled, most likely from a Stupefy.

Imelda sprinted over just as she saw the woman's robes move as if someone was searching them.

“Found them,” Natty whispered, taking two items and stuffing them into her cloaked pockets.

“Run, now,” Garreth intensely said, and they rushed to the exit. They didn't care if they were making a sound, they didn't even dare to look behind. They could hear enough of an uproar as they desperately shoved open the barrel lid.

Imelda hurriedly went to the corner where her broom was still safely tucked away, and they ran up and out of the basement doors.

Only then did they stop and breathe as six Aurors were standing before them with their wands drawn. They dropped their cloaking charms, and Imelda saw Singer recognize them.

“Officer…” Garreth coughed, having lost too much breath at once.

Imelda internally thanked her endurance as she got the most air back in her lungs first. “Ashwinder hideout…through the barrel…” She said.

Singer clenched her jaw, and she told the others, “Take care of it.”

The five Aurors nodded and hurried inside. Imelda breathed more easily; they would be alright, and Ashwinders would be apprehended.

“I told you all not to get involved in this,” Singer sharply reprimanded.

“But, Officer Singer, Mr. Bickle's friends were also blackmailed,” Natty explained. She started to reach into her robes. “And we have—”

“Enough!” All three students froze at Singer's raised voice. Her hardened eyes went from one of them to the next. “It's clear that simple admonishing is not enough to keep you from danger.” She lifted her chin. “I'll be sure to notify each of your parents about this along with the Headmaster.”

Imelda's heart sank to meet her stomach.

She would have to hear from her father. And, most likely, her grandfather too…

Chapter Text

Imelda felt like snakes were coiling around her insides as she walked through the trophy room. She went through it before when they had to get to the Headmaster’s office, and now here she was again.

She found herself in front of the Quidditch trophy case like she had before over the years. Her gaze habitually moved to a plaque she’d seen and pretty much memorized.

Philip Reyes - Best Chaser of 1870

With everything going on this year, she pushed everything regarding her family and expectations to the far back of her mind. But now the floodgates opened and dread crashed down onto her.

Imelda sighed and rubbed her forehead. All she had to do was not get in trouble — not bother her family — and after all this time, she now screwed it up. Bile started to rise as she envisioned the disappointed look on her father’s face. She allowed herself to gasp a little as — oh Merlin, her grandfather would be worse…

“Miss Reyes,” a pompous voice drawled.

Great, now her bile was rising for a different reason.

She turned and faced Headmaster Black himself staring down his nose at her. As scathing as his gaze was, she felt underwhelmed thanks to the knowledge that this insufferable man had a horrible case of boils.

“Professor,” she stiffly replied.

Black gestured to the other side of the trophy room where the ascending stairs were waiting around the corner. “Best not delay as your family will be arriving soon.”

Imelda gathered her courage best she could, and she closed her hands into tight fists to keep them from trembling. She walked in step with Black as they headed for the Headmaster’s Office.

Neither of them spoke the entire way. Why bother making empty conversation for someone you didn’t care about?

Imelda forced herself to keep a stone face as she heard Black utter the password. She didn’t think he knew what happened while he was drunk from firewhisky, but she didn’t want to give herself away either.

Finally, after the last bit of walking, they were in his office. Imelda gleaned the interior, and then her stomach flipped as it seemed portraits recognized her. Before she could start panicking, one portrait made eye contact with her and ever so slightly shook his head.

She let out a small breath she didn’t know she held; maybe Niamh covered for her, then. As well as covered for the boys. That was good.

Imelda jolted at feeling a hand on her shoulder, and she grimaced at smelling rosemary and musk from the waxy mustached man. He corralled her to his desk where three chairs were waiting on one side. He had Imelda sit in the middle chair of the three, and she dropped into the chair with a grunt from the surprising strength he had.

“A lot of trouble, having to meet with parents over nonsense,” Black muttered as he went to the wall to Imelda’s right. He waved his wand, and the wall slid to reveal a metal bust of Ignatia, and he whispered an incantation. “At least there’s a benefit…”

He turned to Imelda and looked her up and down as a green flame kindled under the bust, just waiting. Imelda frowned at him, hating how she was clearly put under scrutiny. Though she didn’t understand why he was looking as if he was considering something about her instead of trying to intimidate her.

The Floo fireplace vibrantly flared twice, and Imelda paled upon seeing her father and grandfather.

Her father, Philip Reyes, stood tall garbed in immensely dark green robes draped over his charcoal suit. His honey skin made his black, styled-back hair stand out with his nut brown eyes ablaze. He walked further into the office while leaning on his polished rowan-wooden cane with an emerald pommel.

Diego Reyes, her grandfather, had similar features to his son but he had white streaking along the sides of his short black hair. He wore dark teal robes over his black suit, and his green eyes were hard as jade.

Black straightened as they approached him, but both Reyes men were still at least a head taller than him.

“Mr. Diego Reyes and Mr. Philip Reyes,” Black greeted them still with his haughty tone. He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Imelda and Diego had the same scowl when Black was clearly looking more at the older Reyes as he said that.

Diego and Philip were quick to shake his hand, and then they moved to join Imelda.

“I hope it wasn’t too troublesome, the travel,” Black made for conversation as he started to head to his side of the desk. He had his chest puffed like an arrogant bird as he added, “I have that Floo reserved for the most imperative visitors.”

Philip lifted an unimpressed eyebrow, but Diego was the one that said, “It’s rather cramped for the ‘most imperative’ visitors.”

Imelda dug her nails into her palms as she saw the light in Black’s eyes dim. She would be in deeper trouble if she looked like she reveled in his misery.

“I, er, I apologize,” Black hastily said as he recovered from the remark. He settled into his posh chair while Philip sat on Imelda’s left and Diego sat on her right. Imelda tensed up, feeling much smaller between the two and her gut kept twisting with dread and fear.

Merlin, I don’t want to throw up here, she helplessly thought.

Diego’s eyes landed on the marble bust of Black, and Imelda recognized his pinched expression as one he had whenever he held back from sneering.

“Now, I know the Auror Officer Singer notified you about Miss Reyes here,” Black continued with his chin lifted.

Philip narrowed his eyes. “I want to know why we were asked to come in,” he said for the first time since they’ve been here, his voice low and husky. His hand tightened around the cane’s pommel. “Imelda has never caused trouble in all the years she’s been here.”

Black cleared his throat. “Yes, well, according to Singer, she's reckless and wreaking havoc. If she were any other student, I have half a mind to suspend her.”

Imelda’s mouth went dry as her stomach dropped. Suspension. She’d never even gotten detention before! How was Sebastian so casual whenever he mentioned he had detention? She felt like the wind was knocked out of her lungs.

Philip leaned forward, and Imelda froze, not wanting to see if he was trying to meet her gaze. She couldn’t bear to see his disappointment.

“If you had half a mind, you would never consider suspending her,” Philip rumbled. “Her record is untarnished, should that not account for her case?”

Imelda numbly registered what her father was saying. He was…advocating for her?

“Not to mention a suspension would reflect horribly for her future,” Diego imposingly added.

Black nodded, and she caught an unusually excited look in his eyes. “I see. I normally would merely suspend, but, I’ll let this go for a family as talented as yours.” He turned a trinket around on his desk as he continued, “It’s been an honor to have you both here.”

Imelda stared at the trinket, which was revealed to be a decorative silver cup with the Puddlemere United emblem engraved on the side.

Dear Merlin, he was a fan. He was a fan of her grandfather’s team. Black, the man who canceled Quidditch, was a fan this entire time? Or worse, was he doing this just to gain her grandfather’s favor?

She didn’t know whether she or her grandfather were more irate at this point.

“While I still have you here, perhaps I could discuss courtship between our children,” Black offered.

Philip immediately shut that down. “I am not interested in arranging anything of the sort for my daughter. She already has enough with her O.W.L.s to study for and—”

“And Quidditch,” Diego snippily finished. Philip clamped his mouth shut with a clenching jaw. “She is working on being the best Quidditch player for this school! She needs time to practice for the games, not deal with this tomfoolery.”

Imelda, still agitated by Black, said, “Abuelo, Quidditch is canceled this year.”

The silence crowded them, and she saw in the corner of her eye Diego stiffening. Black started to look as green as his suit.

“What?” Diego growled.

Black stammered, “A-ah, you see—”

Imelda checked on her father and she saw him merely massage his eyes. He was clearly distressed, but Imelda didn’t know what to do, so she stayed quiet.

“How dare you cancel Quidditch!” Diego reprimanded while flying to his feet. “Of all the asinine—”

“A pureblood student was put in a coma last year!” Black defended himself.

“My son was permanently wounded by a bludger in his years too, but they didn’t cancel Quidditch! It is part of the sport!”

Imelda grimaced, probably the same one Philip had too. She couldn’t help but glance at his right knee, where his cane was standing close by.

While Diego was eviscerating the Headmaster, Imelda decided with a pounding heart to try to reach out.

“…Father?” She timidly asked.

He lowered his hand and turned to her. There was no disappointment nor disapproval etched in his face. Just…neutral.

“Imelda, how much danger were you in?”

She drummed her fingers on her knees, trying to put feeling back into her hands. “Er…” She knew she couldn’t lie. Not to her own father. “There were…Ashwinders involved…”

Philip’s eyes widened a margin, and then his eyebrows drew in close. He was quiet for a minute as if he was pondering how to respond.

“—don't even think I won't take this matter to the Board of Governors!” She heard her grandfather bark while Black shrank more into his chair. “I will raise a special hell for you and your desperate ego—”

Imelda's father wearily sighed before he looked back at his daughter.

“Mi cielito, you will get yourself killed if you keep coming across these people.”

Natty keeps going after them, and I am trying to make sure she doesn’t get herself killed, she thought. Not to mention the goblins Sebastian and I fought.

“Padre,” she started, “I’m not trying to look for trouble.” She hesitated before adding, “But my friends find themselves in danger, and—”

“Your friends need to stay out of it, then,” he firmly said. “Those people are not to be trifled with. Just because you are students does not mean they’ll be merciful.”

Imelda opened her mouth to try to refute how she at least has powerful magic as an advantage. But then she remembered she never told any of her family about her ancient magic. She sighed and replied, “I know.”

Philip nodded, satisfied with the answer, and he added, “Just stay safe and continue your studies.”

Imelda bit her tongue to refrain from saying “there’s a war on the rise, who knows if Hogwarts will still be standing next year”.

“Yes, Padre,” she said instead, and she was rewarded with a small smile from her father.

It was finally quiet; Diego finished his tirade. He stepped back, but his jade green eyes were still hardened with his hands closed into fists. Imelda slowly looked down at her hands that formed fists again out of habit.

Black cleared his throat and sat up, smoothing down his clothes. “After some…consideration, I will bring Quidditch back.”

Diego curtly nodded, pleased Black made the right choice.

Imelda processed what Black said: Quidditch was coming back to Hogwarts. Isaac was going to be ecstatic, maybe Sebastian and Garreth too.

So…why wasn’t she?

“And the ‘suspension’ issue about Imelda?” Philip brusquely asked.

Black glanced up at Diego before looking back at Philip. “Ms. Reyes will not be suspended. O-or even have detention.” He met Imelda’s eyes. “Consider this as a warning.”

She nodded. “Yes, Professor.” He looked at her expectantly, and she forced out, “Thank you, Professor.”

With that, Black rose from his chair. “I apologize for the trouble of bringing you both down here.”

“Apparently, it was good that you did,” Diego stiffly said. “Otherwise I would not have known about your heinous abuse of power.”

Black didn't say anything, but Imelda could tell from his silence he was miffed.

Diego turned to Imelda as Philip slowly got up. “I'm also surprised you never wrote to us about this.”

Imelda flushed out of shame, hearing how disappointed he was. “I'm sorry, Abuelo. I've had a lot on my mind.”

Diego hummed in his “I understand, but I'm still disappointed” way that sank her heart.

Philip rubbed her back, though, and she savored the affection he so rarely gave.

“We’ll see you at Christmas, cielito,” he told her.

Then he and his father Floo’d away, and Black didn’t waste time to tuck away the fireplace. Imelda got out of her chair, trying to not make a sound. Maybe if she was quiet enough, she could leave without Black seeing or talking to her.

She tiptoed only a few steps away before freezing upon hearing Black sharply call her name. Over her shoulder, she saw Black scowl at her with the slightest tinge of pink in his cheeks.

“I suppose I’ll have to let you off with a warning this time,” he said, as haughty as ever. He pointed a gloved finger at her. “I better not hear a word of what transpired here around the school.”

Imelda realized how hard her grandfather struck the Headmaster’s ego, and how much he cared about his “public image”.

“Yes, Professor,” she replied. Once Black waved her away, Imelda hurried out of there before he changed his mind.

Her mind whirled as she walked down the spiral stairs and straight through the trophy room. Quidditch was coming back, and she was already trying to plot out how that would work so late in the year. The first game wasn’t until November anyway, so maybe there was time for try-outs.

Her chest tightened, and she stopped at the arch leading to the Grand Staircase.

With everything going on…did she want to try-out?

Imelda’s breath quickened, and she felt like the walls were closing in on her. Her heart was squeezed, feeling like any pulsing that came from it was becoming less and less frequent. She staggered down the stairs, ignoring any students she passed.

She wasn’t used to this horrible feeling, but she believed she knew the cure: she needed to find someone. Someone to confide in or at least selfishly seek comfort from them.

She was lost in a daze as she kept descending. Should she go outside for fresh air? Her mind kept jumping from fresh air to flying on her broom, to Quidditch again.

Imelda scrambled off to a landing, trying to control her breathing. She leaned against the witch statue and—

Witch statue.

She looked up, and sure enough, it was that hunchback one-eyed witch. Her anxiety halted as her lips parted in surprise. Of all places to blindly go, she went here? Only Garreth knew this secret passage, so when did she mean to head to him instead of the Undercroft or even the Slytherin common room?

Imelda drummed her fingers on the statue and checked her surroundings. No one was coming by at the moment, and…it wouldn’t hurt to see if Garreth was there, right? At worst, the passage did lead to Honeydukes. She wouldn’t say no to chocolate frogs or sugar quills.

She slunk to behind the statue and tapped the hump while whispering: “Dissendium.”

The hump opened, and she smiled a little victoriously. She slipped in and slid down like usual.

However…

At the end of the slide, Imelda let out a shriek as she noticed Garreth about to climb up to leave.

“What the—?” He said before she ran into him, causing him to fall back onto the ground. During the collision, though, Garreth’s instincts kicked in, and he had his arm around Imelda’s waist with a secure hold.

He groaned from the impact while she was safe on top of him. She winced apologetically while her face burned from embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled. “I had no idea you were going to be right there.”

Garreth sighed, simply staring up at the ceiling and blinking as if to keep from being discombobulated. “And I had no idea you’d pop in here.”

He lifted his head and his eyes instantly locked onto hers, and her worries washed away. She didn’t know when her breathing got back to normal, despite the collision.

Garreth cleared his throat, and Imelda blushed harder as she felt his arm slowly withdraw from around her. She got off of him and she hastily smoothed down her uniform. He rolled to stand up, scratching the back of his head.

“Actually,” he said, “I was about to come find you.”

She was eager for a distraction, especially now. “Really?” She asked, managing to keep her voice from wavering.

“Yeah, I…” He blinked before chuckling. “I have two things to talk to you about, actually.”

“Oh?” Imelda asked. “What are they?”

He winced and weighed his hands. “Well, do you want the good thing or the bad thing first?”

She considered it for a moment. After her meeting with her father and grandfather, she hoped to deal with something better for now.

“The good,” she decided.

Her heart skipped beats as he gave her a charming grin. Then it fluttered when he stepped a little closer with his eyes lit in anticipation.

“So,” he quietly started, “Hallowe’en is coming up, and there’s a special event I’d love to take you to.”

Imelda tilted her head. “What’s the event?”

“Just hear me out,” he said with his hands up to placate. “Do you know Sir Nicholas?”

She blinked. “As in…Nearly Headless Nick? One of the ghosts from Gryffindor?”

“Yes. He always hosts his Deathday — the anniversary of his death — in this ballroom. I-it’s full of ghosts, so it might be chilly, but it’s really fascinating to see. As well as how ethereal it can look there.” He started to look nervous now, even fiddling with his hands. “Would you be interested in going with me this year?”

If Imelda didn’t know any better, it would sound like a date. Just like the Yule Balls she heard about from her mother whenever the Triwizard tournament was brought up. Heat returned to her cheeks in a matter of seconds.

“A ballroom…” She mused, staring to cross her arms. “So, we would have to dress formally?”

He nodded. “And also a cloak or robes of some kind. I’m not kidding when I say it’s chilly.”

Garreth sounded like he’d been there years prior. He even said “this year”, and the familiar twisting feeling in her guts came back.

“Have you…gone with anyone else before?”

His eyebrows went up before he let out a small laugh. “I mean, I once took Leander in our third year, but he didn’t listen to my warning. His teeth were still chattering the next day.” He gave her a knowing amused look. “If you’re wondering if I took a girl, even as friends, no, I did not.”

Imelda wondered if he knew how this was coming across, then. But…was it that horrible if it came off the way it did? Her heart squeezed again, though it was out of longing. Her rationality was screaming how pursuing her fancy wasn’t a good idea, not with Quidditch being in the mix now.

Screw it, she thought to her rationality.

“Okay, I’ll go with you,” she confidently said.

Garreth perked up. “You will?”

Imelda shrugged. “It sounds fun, in a…possibly morbid way.” She returned his delighted smile with a timid one of her own. “Should I expect anything else?”

“I don’t want to spoil everything,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve already told you plenty.”

She let out a small chuckle. “Alright, fine. I’ll be surprised, then.”

Garreth chuckled as well, and then he regarded her with a serious expression. “Say…why did you come here in the first place?”

Imelda lowered her gaze, and her hands tightly gripped onto the sleeves. “Remember Singer contacted our family about what happened in Hogsmeade?”

“Yeah.” He sighed deeply. “My aunt gave me another earful, but I’m used to it, so…” He trailed off as he noticed Imelda starting to look shaken. “What’s wrong?”

Her mouth turned dry and it felt like sand. She stared down at the floorboards. “My father a-and grandfather came for me. Well, it was a meeting with Black.”

Garreth leaned from one leg to the other. “What happened?”

Imelda didn’t know why she bothered keeping her so-called promise to Black about keeping the meeting to themselves. But, she believed this would be public knowledge by tomorrow anyway.

“My…grandfather got Quidditch to return to Hogwarts.” She looked up in time to see Garreth’s surprised expression. She could only guess he expected to hear something else instead of Quidditch.

“Oh” was all he said.

“That’s one word for it,” she bitterly mumbled.

Her chest started to feel tight again, and her shoulders slumped from a weight that just dropped on her. She saw the lift waiting for them, and she just felt intent on being anywhere but here.

As she walked to the lift, she added, “I-I guess I need to see when try-outs will be. Isaac is probably going to be captain again.”

“Imelda,” Garreth said as he followed her.

She swallowed, but her mouth still felt dry. Even though the passage was wide open and vast, she felt like there wasn’t enough air for her lungs. She waited until Garreth came into the lift with her, and she pulled the lever with a shaking hand. As they were lowering, she tapped her foot in an antsy way.

“I need to make sure all my gear is good for games, and I’ll need to do flying practice in the afternoons too. I’ve probably slacked off, and I can’t have that.”

Garreth turned to her. “Is that what you want?”

Her heart was being squeezed again, and she blurted out, “I can’t believe it only took my grandfather to make it happen.” The lift finally opened, and she walked out with purpose even though she had no idea where to go. “But, at least I can ensure our legacy of Quidditch players.”

“Is that what you want?” He repeated in a firmer voice.

Is it what I want? She thought. Her answer terrified her, and she tried to ignore it, walking further down the passage.

“Imelda, please don’t ignore me!” He called out before picking up his pace. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know!” She exclaimed, turning around. His eyes widened at her outburst, and she tried to control her shaky breathing. “I don’t know. I’ve lived my whole life…training and playing Quidditch. It was everything to me. But then this year, I’ve done so much and I’m doing so much more without it. With it back, I know my family would want me to play like usual.” Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. “But I don’t…I don’t know what I want and…”

Garreth walked up to her and calmly pulled her into a hug. She trembled and instinctively leaned more into him, resting her cheek against his chest. Her breathing started to follow the pattern of his steady heartbeat she could hear. She sighed and finally moved her arms to wrap around his middle.

She felt a stray tear escape and trail down her cheek, but she didn’t care. She felt safe and comforted as she was enveloped by his arms and his mint cologne. It was…like home, even if her own home didn't have a similar scent.

“How do you do it?” Imelda whispered.

He inquisitively hummed. “Do what?”

She sniffed before answering, “Not be scared to disappoint your family.”

Garreth didn’t say anything at first, and she worried she crossed a line. Then he took a deep breath and answered as he rubbed her back, “I guess I’m just used to it. Even when the past couple times of my aunt reprimanding me had nothing to do with potions. I know they love me but…I know that they don’t expect much to come from my innovations.”

Imelda’s eyebrows furrowed. It didn’t make sense to her. “How do you know they love you?”

Garreth chuckled. “They might be exasperated by my experiments and talking them into trying them at home, or even roll their eyes at my efforts.”

“This doesn’t sound great,” she muttered as she cleaned her face.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said with amusement. He leaned back to meet her eyes, fondly smiling. “While they do all that, they’re still my family. Of course they love me. Just like how I love my family, but don’t always support their choices.” He snorted. “My little brother Hector wanted to be a dragonologist of all things, but he can’t even stand the little lizards that roam our garden. I don’t know if any Weasley will have that as their career, but never say never.”

Imelda stepped back from his warmth and tried to make up for it by loosely hugging herself again. “My family isn’t like that,” she mumbled. “Ever since I learned how to fly, my grandfather and my father have dedicated their time to help me improve to be the best I can be.”

Garreth carefully asked, “What about your mother?”

“Oh, she’s there. She raised me when my father was busy with work,” she answered. She shifted on her feet, feeling guilty. “But I guess…I wasn’t the closest to her ever since I revolved my whole life around Quidditch.” She sardonically laughed. “I was always wanting to make my family proud. That’s what my grandfather said I would do.”

Her self-pitying smile dwindled as she remembered that day. Her abuelo gave her a proud grin as she (a five-year-old) successfully flew an entire lap of their smaller-scale Quidditch field in the yard.

“You’ll make our family proud, Reina,” he had said as he sweetly patted her head. “Someone must continue the legacy of us Reyes.” His green eyes were soft, a rarity, as his smile grew warmer. “Only you’ll be a queen of the skies when you play.”

Her heart numbed as she was back in the present. Now that she looked back on it, the most times she received smiles and praise from her father and grandfather was when she accomplished something. The most affection she got was when she won games; everything given to her was after she did something…

“I guess I have their support, but not their love,” she muttered before slowly looking back up at Garreth. She didn’t want pity, she hated pity.

But instead, he just stared at her with sorrow. Maybe…understanding. Even though their situations were the reverse of each other, she felt like he could truly know what she was dealing with. He made her feel seen.

“We’re a special kind of a pair, aren’t we?” He asked with a rueful smile.

“I suppose so,” she answered with a bitter smile of her own. She sighed deeply and wiped her eyes again. “I don’t know what to think of Quidditch right now. There are more pressing matters to attend to. And I know I don’t have to do it alone, I know that.”

“But it’s still a lot.”

“Yeah, it is.” Imelda put on a brave face, though, as if she were a soldier. She took a deep breath. “I’ll figure out something when Black makes the announcement. Whenever that will be.”

Garreth searched her expression before nodding. “Chances are I’ll probably play Quidditch.” He chuckled again. “I do miss the game, I’ll be honest. Even if there’s a war on the brink. I don’t think it’s selfish if we indulge in things that make us happy every now and then.”

“Maybe,” she whispered. She didn’t know if she would afford to be that selfish, though. For now, at least, the weight on her shoulders immensely lessened. That would have to be enough. “But, anyway, what was the bad thing?”

Garreth’s expression turned grim. “Right,” he muttered. “Follow me.”

He led her further down the passage where there was a square platform. With a “levioso”, it levitated enough for them to climb onto it and jump up to the stone cliff edge. Once they clambered up there, they walked into a vast cavernous area. There were wooden platforms, and Imelda could guess that going across those would eventually lead to Honeydukes. Instead, Garreth brought her over to the left where it wound down to a small shore. The stream idly flowed along, and just around the rocky corner was an alcove.

Imelda realized this was where Garreth did all of his brewing in secret. The other spot where he had the Polyjuice must have been more of the sake for convenience. This was his true lab. There was a small copper cauldron peacefully resting over a tiny fire pit, simmering away. There were wooden shelves that seemed to have been crafted over the years. Some were angled and closer to the ground as if a younger Garreth put them up himself. Imelda couldn’t help but smile at the rather adorable image. The shelves were stocked with varied potion ingredients, all having different quantities in them too. The more common ingredients were full to the corks while the rarer ones were a quarter full if even. She spotted the singular Fwooper feather carefully stored in a tall jar at a high shelf only Fifth-Year-Garreth could reach.

Garreth shouldered off his robes, tossing it away from his workplace, and then he rolled up his forearms. Imelda habitually swallowed as she couldn’t help but take in the wondrous sight. She didn’t realize his forearms were as freckled as his face. Was his…entire body like that?

Stop thinking like a breeding gnome, she hissed to herself. She forced herself to focus as Garreth turned to her.

“Now, when we visited Anne” — Imelda now understood what Garreth was leading up to — “I took a quick inventory of the potion ingredients there.” He bent down and picked up a square cubby that had twelve storage boxes. “This is the standard potion kit we students have, however…” He pointed at the labels on the sides of the frames. “While the labels were there, I knew the jars were full of different ingredients.”

Imelda frowned. “Solomon replaced the kit’s jars with different ones?” He nodded. “Why?”

“My guess is so Anne wouldn’t suspect too much. Or, maybe she used up her old ingredients, and he put in his own for convenience.”

“Okay, so different ingredients.” She wanted to hope for the best, but she was cynical. She crossed her arms and still took a chance. “Ingredients for pain-relief concoctions.”

Garreth shook his head, confirming her skeptical side. “No. When I took my gander, I instantly saw none of the ingredients you’d use for even a Wiggenweld.”

Imelda’s stomach flipped. “What is it, then?”

Garreth carefully set down the frame and picked up some stray books that were piled up in a corner. He leafed through them. “I had to really put my nose back into some books. While I have a good memory, I wanted to double-check. Then—I had my breakthrough.”

He went to two different dog-eared pages and showed them to her. Imelda took the book, going back and forth between the pages. She was starting to put it together.

“Solomon…combined two potions into one?”

Garreth nodded. “He did.” He pointed at the list of ingredients for both. “Neither of them had all of the ingredients I saw. But together…they did.”

Imelda looked at the titles of the potions, and she let out a shaking breath. “Oh, Merlin.”

“Before we get ahead of ourselves,” Garreth gently said. He reached out onto one of his shelves and took a bottle labelled “Salamander blood”. “I’ve been attempting a brewing of it, and I wanted to wait until I added the last part for you to see.”

“If it matches the golden fireworks I saw,” she guessed.

“Correct.” Garreth twisted the lid off that had a dropper attached to it. He pinched the top, drawing a bit of the blood. He slowly hovered the dropper over the simmering potion of orange, and then he squeezed out four drops right into the center. He quickly withdrew his hand just in time.

The drops of blood sizzled right into the concoction, and then it bubbled. Imelda watched as the liquid shifted from orange to a dark yellow and then—

Golden fireworks shot up and burst right in front of them. Just like what Imelda saw.

She felt sick to her stomach while chills ran down her spine as their suspicions were confirmed. Her fingers barely kept the book from falling out of her numb hold.

“He’s been poisoning her,” Imelda whispered.

Garreth looked as grim as her with worry flashing in his eyes. “With both the Weakness Potion and the Drowsiness Draught.”

Chapter Text

“Wut?!” Sebastian exclaimed with the most anger Imelda had ever heard from him.

Imelda had found Sebastian and Ominis in the Undercroft and had them come with her to an empty classroom where Garreth was waiting to break the news.

And now with the news out there, Sebastian was seething with his eyes aflame.

“You’re telling me my uncle has been poisoning my sister?” He roared.

Imelda partly stepped back away from him, and Ominis uneasily shifted on his feet. She didn’t know what to expect from his reaction, but this was worse than she thought. She had to give Garreth credit for being able to stay where he was in front of Sebastian.

“I know it’s a massive shock, and I was just as surprised when I put it together,” Garreth cautiously said.

Sebastian rounded on Imelda, though, and her heart flipped at seeing him bare his teeth. “How long have you known this?”

“I didn’t know until just now,” she answered. “I saw Solomon working before, but I didn’t know what he was brewing! I didn’t want to say anything to you until I was sure.” She waved to Garreth. “That’s why I recruited Garreth’s help.”

Sebastian scowled before stalking over to a desk and dropping into a chair. He let out a long, angry sigh as he buried his hands in his hair with his elbows resting on his knees.

Ominis approached him like one would approach a cornered animal. “Sebastian…I know what you’re thinking.”

“That I go to Solomon and jinx him into the next week?” He grumbled. “That I make him suffer for everything he put Anne through for Merlin knows how long?” He lifted his head to look at the three of them, utterly resentful. “I didn’t care what he did to me. I endured it all, just for Anne’s sake. I thought as long as she was taken care of, I could just take it.” He glared a hole into the floor. “But she’s been poisoned all this time…and I didn’t see it.” The anger left him defeated, and he sank back into the chair. “Why am I always so blind?”

Ominis crossed his arms. “I have that blind excuse, but I should have known something was up. Especially when the last time we saw her, she didn’t even stand up for you after Solomon was irrational and rash.”

Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re right, she didn’t. She really is becoming a shell of her former self.” He gritted out, “Because of him.” He met each of their eyes. “We need to get her out of there.”

“Even if you wanted to march right into Feldcroft and rescue Anne, aren’t we banished?” Garreth asked. “Solomon is bound to have put up wards to keep us out.”

Imelda huffed. “I hate to say it, but I think Garreth’s right. We can’t just go in there.”

“I know, I tried to see Anne recently,” Sebastian said with dismay. “I only got to the edge of the yard before I was forcefully bounced back.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I could try to send a letter to Anne, but…it could be intercepted by Solomon.”

“Maybe you should tell a professor,” Ominis suggested. “I know you said before you wouldn’t, but this changes things. Anne isn’t safe there anymore, and she doesn’t have Hogwarts to stay at like you do.”

Sebastian nodded. This new development certainly changed his mind; Anne was his top priority even above himself. “But who? I doubt our Head of House would be of much help. I’d have to explain so much to him.”

Imelda had to admit she couldn’t picture Ronen knocking on Solomon’s door to retrieve Anne. Ronen was too…bubbly and friendly for this circumstance.

“You’d have to explain your entire situation no matter which professor it is,” Imelda pointed out. “I guess it comes down to which one you can trust with—” She straightened as a name came to mind. “Sharp.”

“No,” Sebastian said with a shake of his head. “He was an Auror like Solomon.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re on good terms,” Ominis said. “People can be in the same department but still feel animosity toward each other. It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Especially when Sharp told me all of us here could come to him for help,” Imelda added.

Sebastian considered it for a long moment before he got up and out of the chair. “Fine. I’ll talk to Sharp.” He held up a finger. “But I’ll do it by myself.”

His insistence seemed reasonable, so they all agreed and headed for the potions classroom. On the way there, Imelda’s mind drifted on what to do after this. The weekend had come and gone, and then she had that meeting with her father and grandfather. It was only Monday, and she was already wanting the week to end.

Her mind decided to go on a more pleasant route, thinking about what Garreth invited her to for Hallowe’en. A ballroom with a bunch of dancing ghosts seemed odd, but she was curious about what it’d be like. Not to mention that meant it was time she would be alone with Garreth.

It wouldn’t hurt to indulge her selfish desires for a night, right?

She kept thinking about the ghosts as she, Ominis, and Garreth waited outside the classroom while Sebastian went inside. She wondered if she’d recognize any from the ones that haunt the castle. Then one came to mind: Richard Jackdaw.

She still remembered when he heard about her and told Sebastian and Ominis she was in the Hospital Wing. And she still felt guilty about how she thought about him and regarded him in their brief time together.

In hindsight, he wasn’t that bad. In fact, he seemed quite pleased she figured out his puzzle and fed the squid on top of that. And…his look of sorrow when she told him about Anne Thisbe’s fate…how could she overlook that?

Now, Richard was still around as a ghost, but…his body didn’t have a nice resting place. Imelda stiffened upon remembering that blasted place where his skeleton was. She was so focused on leaving alive and away from the spiders that she just took the map pages and left him. Sure, she was only around thirteen, but some “friend” she was.

He should have a proper resting place, she thought with finality. She knew what that meant, though, and it terrified her to her core.

Unless…

The potions classroom door opened, and Sebastian came out with a solemn expression. All three of them pushed themselves off the wall.

“Well?” Imelda asked in anticipation.

He shrugged. “Solomon and Sharp certainly aren’t friends, so that helped.” There was a look of relief and satisfaction etched on his face. “It was…nice to see a professor just as upset about this as me.”

“What is he going to do about it?” Ominis pressed.

“He said that he was going to confront Solomon soon,” he answered. “He told me to keep out of it and let him take care of it. He assured me that he would find a place for Anne to be looked after if she couldn’t stay at Hogwarts.”

They collectively breathed sighs of relief.

“So, now we just wait, I guess,” Garreth said. He chuckled while scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry, but…with all this excitement, I don’t want to quite get back to my Transfiguration homework just yet.”

“I’m restless myself,” Sebastian added while tapping his foot. “There’s still some sun left, and I don’t want to be cooped up in the library or common room right now.”

Imelda braced herself and said, “Well, I…have one idea.”

Ominis lifted an eyebrow while Sebastian and Garreth perked up.

“Do tell,” Sebastian encouraged.

She took a deep breath. “Remember Richard Jackdaw?”

“The ghost?” Ominis asked.

Sebastian teasingly grinned. “Your ghost boyfriend?”

“He’s not my ghost boyfriend,” she argued. “But, I was thinking about where I left his bones. And…I want him to have a better place than that hellscape.”

Garreth’s eyebrows furrowed in thought before they shot up. “Wait, you want to go back there?” His eyes were flooded with concern. “But, that had—”

“I know,” she quickly said, trying to not think about it if it wasn’t mentioned. She looked at each of them. “Which is why…I’m asking you to come with me. I don’t want to face it alone.”

“Imelda Reyes doesn’t want to take on something alone,” Sebastian mused.

“I’ll go,” Garreth volunteered. “I just need to gather some potions and change into a more fitting attire.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Well, I won’t say no to putting my duelling skills to good use.” He smirked. “You could even take notes, Imelda.”

She rolled her eyes, but she appreciated his sentiment. Then she looked at Ominis, who seemed indecisive.

He eventually sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should come and make sure none of you do anything too reckless.”

Imelda smiled, pleased all of them could join her. “Thank you, guys. I’ll meet you all at the South Exit of Hogwarts.” She pointed at Ominis and Sebastian. “It would be best to not wear the school uniforms out there. The Forbidden Forest is crawling with more enemies than not.”

Ominis frowned. “I don’t have—”

Sebastian waved it off. “I have a couple outfits you can borrow. We’ll get ready.” He tilted his head. “Don’t you need to go with us, Imelda? Same House and all.”

She patted her bag. “I have my outfit here. I’ll change elsewhere.”

Garreth shrugged. “Alright, see you all at the South Exit, then.”

All four of them dispersed, and Imelda went to the closest loo for girls. She went to the furthest stall and swiftly changed into her Crimson Mystic Ensemble…

~~~

Eventually, all four of them met at the South Exit. Imelda and Garreth were in their usual armored adventure pieces. Sebastian and Ominis were last to join them.

Sebastian was wearing a tan shirt with the top button unbuttoned, with a dark blue vest, dark green trousers, and a blue-green sash tied around his middle, secured there with a brown belt. He had on leather brown short boots with belts holding a wand holster on his left leg.

Ominis, on the other hand, was wearing an attire more similar to Imelda’s, but blue. It looked crafted out of leather, and he had thick, brown arm guards on, which he was currently feeling with his fingertips. There was a golden buckle over the right side of his clavicle holding the top part together, and there was a celtic belt tied around his waist. He had a legside pocket like Imelda’s, with the flaps of the attire covering his thighs. He wore light brown trousers that were tucked into dark brown boots.

“Nice outfits,” Garreth praised. “Where did you get them?”

Sebastian proudly waved to his own attire. “This is the Crossed Wands Champion garb that I rightfully won last year.” He patted Ominis’s back. “And this is the Herodiana outfit I found while exploring some secrets of Hogwarts a couple years ago.” He smiled ruefully. “Well, Anne and I explored together. She has an outfit like this one too.”

“It’s comfortable, but a little stiff,” Ominis muttered. “Did you not wear this?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Not as often as I could, I suppose. But now you can!” He turned to Imelda. “Shall we?”

She nodded. “Right this way,” she said, taking the lead.

All four of them trekked through the Forbidden Forest, staying undetected by dugbogs and giant spiders. In the distance, Imelda could have sworn she spotted centaurs watching them. Overall, they never encountered any danger, and soon found themselves at the pond.

She let out a shaking breath as went up to the birdbath. She’d never gone in except for the one time, and her heart was now erratically beating. It was like her own self didn’t think she’d actually go through with it, and now it was panicking. She panted as she clutched the rim of the birdbath as moments bombarded her like incessant waves crashing against a cliff. Every near-death experience she had there, the countless spiders she faced, that one spot she accidentally went into.

She inhaled sharply when she felt someone’s hand softly rub her back. Sea green eyes looked right at her, and she took more gulps of air while she still remembered how to breathe. “You don’t have to go in,” Garreth offered. “We can go in if you tell us where to go.”

She shook her head. “N-no, I can’t let you do that. There were ancient magic guards there. I fought them, but…I don’t know if they can come back.”

Sebastian and Ominis stood beside her to the left. Sebastian put his hand on her shoulder while Ominis brushed his hand against hers. Her trembling stopped enough for her to concentrate on the right words.

“Intra Muros.”

The grassy wall shifted into a spiral and slowly opened into a circular hole, the sounds startling the three boys. Imelda stared at the entrance and wet her lips. This was her last chance to back out, to spare herself from being traumatized again.

But you’re not alone this time, she reminded herself.

With that sole thought in mind, she walked with Garreth, Sebastian, and Ominis into the opening. Once all four stepped in, the hole securely closed behind them.

They came into a tall corridor of mossy stone with a few batches of Horklumps growing. Garreth made an “ooh” sound and jogged over to them, eagerly harvesting them. Imelda shook her head with a smile as they continued on the curved path. Garreth caught up to them while stuffing the Horklumps into his shoulder bag.

“So, where are the…problems?” Sebastian asked while taking his wand out of the holster. Ominis was already on his guard with his wand’s red light warily blinking.

“Further in,” Imelda answered. “I…know I killed most of the ‘problems’, but…” She paused as they got to the gate crafted from ancient magic. It was still open from when she hit the three runic targets. “Huh.”

Sebastian tilted his head. “Hey…I’ve seen these symbols before.”

Garreth turned to him. “You have?”

Imelda remembered where with a jolt. The triptych from when she and Sebastian got to the Undercroft through Isidora’s house. She had the parchment with the runic symbols.

She cleared her throat. “It’s the symbol of ancient magic,” she explained before Sebastian spilled about the Undercroft.

Garreth’s eyes lit up. “Oh! From the Map Chamber.”

“Too close,” Ominis muttered to Sebastian out of the corner of his mouth.

Imelda pointed at the bridge far away in the chasm. “That’s where we need to go.”

Sebastian stared at the bridge in thought, cupping his chin. “We should have brought brooms.”

“I didn’t suggest that because the last time I was here, I couldn’t fly over there,” she said before going to the edge of the cliff. “There were wards to keep me from taking a shortcut.” She tested it, holding her hand out. She expected her hand to bounce back, but she frowned as she only felt air. “I guess they dropped once I accomplished the blasted tasks to make the bridge.”

“‘Make the bridge’?” Ominis asked as Imelda started leading the way down the narrow stone hallway.

“Every one of these gates I opened,” she said while gesturing to them as they went through, “Parts of the bridge would be made. Only when I got the last one was it safe for me to cross to where I needed to go.”

They passed a few cressets on the ground that held pale blue flames, and then Imelda stopped in her tracks with a sharp inhale.

Like those years ago, a massive spider web covered the archway.

That answered her question then: she didn’t get all of the spiders, and this place was infested like before.

Sebastian walked past her with a quick touch of her shoulder, then he yelled, “Confringo.” Fire burst out of his wand and blazed the web away. He looked at them with a determined glint in his eyes. “I’ll go first.”

Imelda didn’t bother insisting on taking the lead; she could feel her own body tremble, and her ancient magic was anxiously pulsing in her veins. She still got her wand out, but she wasn’t sure how well she’d cast when her hands were shaking so much.

Ominis trailed behind Sebastian, and Garreth walked beside Imelda. She didn’t know if he was making sure she wouldn’t go into another panic attack, or maybe she’d just faint, but she appreciated his presence.

“Here,” he muttered, reaching into his bag.

“Thunderbrew?” She asked with hope in her wavering tone.

Instead of a flask with crackling purple liquid, he procured a round vial with a plain brown liquid. “A Calming Draught. To help with your fear and anxiety.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t help but be impressed with the range of inventory Garreth had in his bag. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s brewed to be the most potent,” he said with pride as he handed it to her.

She nodded to him before she uncorked it. “You really went all out with your brewing,” she praised before kicking the potion back. It went down her throat easily enough, leaving a faint peppermint taste behind. She let out a long breath, feeling far less riddled by her fears, her anxious heartbeat immediately slowed down to normal.

“I do have Thunderbrew as well, of course,” Garreth said, “but I plan to give that to Ominis. As back-up just in case.”

“I will probably need that,” Ominis spoke up from ahead. He “looked” at them over his shoulder. “Do you have Edurus as well?”

“I do,” Garreth answered. “And Maxima.”

Sebastian stopped them as they had a fork in the path. The left obviously looked better while the right had dozens of web lines and had a short tunnel so they would have to crouch to get through.

“Which way?” Sebastian asked Imelda.

It was only thanks to the Draught Garreth gave her that she could think clearly enough. She looked between the two ways and admitted, “The left is the way forward. The right is just a massive nest of spiders.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened a margin at how calmly she spoke, but then he focused back on the tunnel on their right. “So, if we wanted to completely exterminate the insects, we should clean that area up.”

“Spiders aren’t insects,” Imelda pedantically corrected.

Sebastian gave her an unamused look. “Don’t start.”

She shrugged with a little smirk. “I’m surprised I have to correct a son of professors.”

He quietly laughed, shaking his head, pleased to have some levity. “I’ll be nice and let you have this one.”

Garreth cleared his throat, stepping up to Imelda’s side while Ominis was on Sebastian’s. “So, we’re going into the nest area before continuing?”

“I think we should,” Sebastian grimly added. “To rid this place of them once and for all.”

Ominis tilted his head to hear Imelda better as he asked her, “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

She tightened the grip on her wand — her hand was steady again. “Yes.”

“Only one way in, though,” Sebastian mused, eyeing the tunnel.

He crouched and sent another Confringo fireball through. The fire burst on the other end of the cavern, and they heard a lot of clattering and clicking sounds.

Even with Imelda’s influenced sense of calm, the hair on the back of her neck still rose.

“I’ll go in first, and I’ll draw as many as I can,” Sebastian said, rolling his shoulders back.

“Wait, Sebastian—” Garreth started to say, but the Slytherin already went in, running while crouching through.

They heard more fireballs bursting, and the hellish shrieks the spiders gave from having contact with them.

Ominis sighed at his friend’s rash decisions before hurrying after him. Garreth and Imelda weren’t far behind.

Thornback Scurriers and Shooters were scrambling from every corner of the web-covered tall cavern. Their giant egg sacs were grossly bubbling as if their footsteps awakened them. Until Sebastian sent one fire after another, blasting each sac into burnt, green goo.

“Get the sacs first!” Sebastian ordered before leaning back to avoid a web trap shot from an Ambusher.

Garreth chugged a Maxima potion and red light shimmered down his black-armored figure. He yelled out “Incendio”, and the nearest egg sac he pointed to went up into smoke. The fire was so strong that it couldn’t even explode, being incinerated right away. Nearby spiders let out high-pitched screeches at their losses. The Gryffindor kept targeting the egg sacs, and Imelda did her usual Glacius-Diffindo combo to stop a Scurrier from getting on Garreth.

Ominis’ techniques were mainly to set up the spider fiends for Sebastian to slaughter, and he stiffened as his wand picked up something. “Above!” He called out.

Imelda and Sebastian looked up at the same time, seeing a dozen spiders come down on lines of web.

Sebastian clicked his tongue before aiming his wand up and casting Bombarda at the closest spider. The spider splattered into thousands of pieces that showered on its companions while they casted shields.

Ominis felt rumbling under his feet, and Garreth hurriedly pulled him with Accio right to him. A Scurrier resurfaced right where Ominis was a moment ago.

Garreth shoved a Thunderbrew into Ominis’ free hand. “Drink it, now,” he insisted before raising a Shooter before crashing it down.

Ominis blinked, sensing that Shooter nearly bit down on Sebastian while he was occupied with spiders coming from above. He had an indiscernible expression on his face as he opened the flask and drank half of it.

Meanwhile, Imelda was taking care of the last of the egg sacs while Sebastian got rid of the stragglers from the ceilings. She felt her Ancient Magic’s strong pulsing from the adrenaline, ready to use. But she remembered there were Matriarchs and they hadn’t appeared yet, so she wanted to save her energy.

Any remaining spiders were struck by lightning from Ominis’ Thunderbrew, and once the half-dosage of the storm dissipated, the room was finally clear of the arachnids.

Sebastian softly sighed with a brazen light in his eyes. “Well done! I must say, that was a lot more exciting than I thought it’d be.”

Imelda could have sworn she saw a hint of a smile on his face, and she started to realize how much Sebastian was using this fighting as an outlet.

“Yeah, you guys did a great job,” she said. She started to wonder how much longer she had from the dosage of the Calming Draught, and that made her add, “We should get a move on. There’s…going to be more.”

“More?” All three chorused as they went with her back out of the hellscape.

Imelda grimly nodded as they went back to take the left path. “Matriarchs of these horrific creatures,” she explained as they continued on. “Watch your step,” she added as they hopped down the small ledge. “I came across them right before the bridge.”

“Maybe it won’t be the same as it was a few years ago,” Garreth offered.

She hummed as she eyed the corridor they went through. “There aren’t Shooters here…I guess so,” she mused.

The further in they went, Imelda kept waiting for more awful spiders to show up like they always did when she first came. But…there was no sign of them. There wasn’t even scuttling along the sides of the walls up high. Maybe the only spiders left were the ones they got rid of already.

They reached the last area where it had a few shallow pools of water, more cressets of blue-white fire, and a slope further ahead leading to an arch and the bridge.

“Almost there,” Imelda announced, but then louder clacking echoed in the area. She sighed, cursing at herself that she shouldn’t have gotten complacent.

Two Matriarchs clambered in with their mandibles clicking threateningly.

“Just like before,” she mumbled as she tightened the hold on her wand.

Sebastian was already critically staring at the spiders, and a quick look behind them showed the Matriarchs had their children come out as well. “I guess our excursion led to their displeasure.”

Ominis reached for the half-full vial of Thunderbrew as Garreth handed Sebastian a spare Maxima potion.

Then Garreth turned to Imelda and gave her a sapphire-blue flask. “A Focus Potion, which should help if the Calming Draught runs out.”

She nodded her gratitude, and downed it at the same time Ominis and Sebastian drank their own potions. Ominis’ pale eyes flickered purple while red shimmered all over Sebastian.

For Imelda, her vision turned more blue, and the spiders coming after them lost their colorfulness, looking more neutral to her. It wasn’t as unnerving as she thought, but she also could have sworn they were moving…slower?

A spider started to aim at her, and an instinct to do something tugged at her mind. She yelled, “Confringo!”

It screeched and scrambled at a slow pace while combusting from the fire. Sebastian, beside her, timed it right before hitting it with a Basic Cast and having it explode and kill four other spiders.

The Matriarchs were infuriated, and one went after Sebastian while the other charged at Imelda. Lightning crashed down, eliminating more of the smaller threats behind them. Garreth guzzled down an Edurus Potion, a thin rock layer developing over his form, right as Sebastian pushed back his Matriarch with Depulso. The spider legs scraped across the rock floor from the Maxima-induced force of the spell, and it glared at Sebastian with all eight eyes.

Imelda warily stood her ground as the Matriarch focused on her reared on its hind legs. Again, it looked to be coming in slow motion, and the idea of using Descendo popped into her mind. She was about to cast it when she heard a pained yell.

She turned and saw with horror Ominis was clutching the side of his neck with spots of green peeking between his fingers.

“Get back!” Garreth yelled, making her jolt.

The Matriarch was about to sink her foot-long fangs into Imelda, but then Garreth rushed to be between the two with his back to the enormous spider. He stumbled forward from the force of the fangs ineffectively scraping against his armored back. Imelda instinctively held his forearms to stabilize him, and then she moved him to stand behind her as she whipped out her wand.

She tapped into her Ancient Magic, making the Matriarch shrink to the size of a helpless tiny spider, and then she brought it to the ground where she promptly and harshly stomped on it.

The Focus potion’s influence was starting to wane with the blue vision flickering to normal and then back to blue. The Calming Draught already wore off, and she could feel it in her tightened chest and erratic heartbeat.

Sebastian was holding his own with the remaining effects of Maxima, swiftly taking the Matriarch down with a Descendo and then a Bombarda at the massive body. Garreth was checking on the wound Ominis sported, which meant the last straggling spiders still had to be taken care of.

Imelda forced back bile that was threatening to rise, and she hurriedly casted Levioso on a burrowing spider. It was grossly tugged out, with the head torn off and the rest of the body falling limp on the ground.

She focused on the last two spiders. Like before when one prepared to shoot poison at her, she shouted “Confringo” even if there was a fearful waver in her voice. It shrieked, which now made her stomach flip and twist, and scrambled around. A Basic Cast made it explode, but it wasn’t timed well and didn’t get rid of the last spider.

Screw this, she helplessly thought as she felt her Ancient Magic keep thrumming in her blood. She harshly pointed a wand at the spider, and it stumbled a little backward before vaporizing.

Imelda panted, relieved they were all dead and gone for good. She turned around to the three boys, and Sebastian looked at her with complete awe.

“Nicely done,” he commended with a grin. He didn’t holster his wand just yet, but his stance was relaxed. “You did more than Control Spells for once.”

“It was time I actually listened to you,” she replied, weakly smiling back.

Sebastian regarded her now with solemnity. “Are you alright? You look pale and shaken.”

Imelda let out a short breath, trying to focus on anything but the disgusting remains of the spiders.

“I’m fine,” she forced out before going over to Garreth and Ominis with Sebastian walking beside her. “What’s going on?”

“I got poisoned,” Ominis grumbled. He tilted his head, and Imelda and Sebastian winced at the green splatter on his skin. It seemed to be steaming and making his surrounding skin turn pink and bubble from the heat. “The Thunderbrew was going away just in time for me to take down one arachnid while another shot its revolting poison at me.”

“Don’t worry, I have an antidote for this,” Garreth said as he searched his bag. “I made sure to prepare and pack with anything we’d encounter.”

A second later, he presented a vial full of pink liquid. He started to reach for a pocket in his armor, but then he stopped.

“Er, Sebastian, Ominis, do either of you have a handkerchief?”

Ominis nodded before grunting a little at the pain from the motion. He reached into his legside pocket and pulled out a silk green handkerchief. Garreth thanked him and poured the pink liquid on it. Then he gently pressed the fabric against the poisoned skin. Ominis hissed at first before slowly relaxing at the cooling sensation.

“Just hold that there for a minute, it should get rid of it,” Garreth advised.

Ominis did as told, holding the handkerchief against his neck and even dabbing it. “Thank you,” he replied with an indiscernible look on his face.

Garreth gave him a small smile. “Not a problem.” Then he turned his attention to Imelda. “How are you?”

Imelda wanted to say she was fine, but now that her mind wasn’t buzzing from the adrenaline and worry over Ominis, it dwelt on her state of fear. She gagged and nearly threw up, but managed to swallow it back down, shuddering at the vile taste.

Garreth grimaced. “Please tell me you did not just—”

“I did,” she wearily said. “And I’ll take it as a win, since the last time I was here, I didn’t keep it in.”

Sebastian curiously stared at the three rune symbols spread out as Ominis, Garreth, and Imelda joined him. He turned to Imelda and pointed to the symbol far ahead under the bridge itself. “So, did you have to hit the runes for the bridge to develop?”

“I did,” Imelda affirmed. “I had to hit each one with a Basic Cast, but they were timed and I had to consecutively hit each one before they reset.”

“Fascinating,” he murmured. Sebastian looked like if he could, he’d stay in here all day to marvel at the intricate metal work and the mechanics of it.

“I say we get out of here now,” Ominis insisted as he tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket. “We might have killed all the spiders, but we do have to worry about the school curfew.”

Garreth pulled out his pocket watch and nodded. “Yeah, it’s almost 8 right now.”

“What a day,” Sebastian remarked. “I know I can take a detention if we’re caught out of our commons rooms.” He smirked and pointed to Imelda. “But I’m still sure she’d get hives.”

“Oh, sure,” she snippily said as they all walked around and up the slope to the bridge. “We’re only now going through the secret place I went in as a thirteen-year-old.”

“But you did it well before curfew, right?” Sebastian challenged.

Imelda opened and closed her mouth, and sighed. “Okay, fine, yes.” She fought a smile as she shoved Sebastian’s shoulder while he snickered. “Shut it.”

They walked through the ornate arch that had clinging ivy twisted around it, and then across the lavish, blue and golden bridge with cressets of warm orange flames.

Garreth let out a low whistle, impressed. “Clean this place up of grime and fiendish creatures, and this is one spectacular hideout.”

Imelda smiled freely and said, “Yeah, maybe.” She waved to the chasm they were crossing. “Just set up some Quidditch hoops on each end, and it’d make for a great team practice.”

Garreth barked out a laugh that echoed. “Hey, just give me a nice area for potion brewing, and I’m sold.” He added with a grin, “I wouldn’t say no to some one-on-one Quidditch playing either.”

She chuckled before giving it more thought. “Maybe some duelling dummies to practice with, too,” she mused.

“Now you’re talking,” Sebastian piped up, going to Imelda’s left and slinging his arm around her shoulders. She shook her head at him, but she wasn’t completely annoyed with the physical contact. Garreth, however, simply looked straight ahead with a clenched jaw. Sebastian held out his hand to the three arched doorways in front of them, as if envisioning the place. “Imagine if you could use your Ancient Magic to craft your own practice dummies! Ones sentient enough to be more of a threat than a standard scarecrow. Maybe ones that could only be taken down from certain spell types.”

“Like Control, Force, and Damage?” She dryly asked.

Sebastian grinned toothily. “I see you remembered from my lessons.”

They finally made it to the end, and Imelda slowed to a stop right before the skeleton. It barely changed since last she saw it, and the swords crafted from Ancient Magic metal were still stabbed through the neck.

She shakily breathed as she went down on her knee. “It’s him,” she said.

“Yikes,” Sebastian remarked. “That’s a way to go.”

Her heart ached as she kept looking at the skeleton. She wondered if Richard often thought about where his body was left to decay for ages. She did remember how tense he was when he said he wouldn’t go further into the Forest. After the encounters she had, she now understood his reservations.

She hoped she could finally give him peace of mind, then.

Imelda stood up and opened her legside pocket, carefully levitating the bones in there. She checked ahead, relieved that it seemed like there was no sign of those sentinels either. Just the elaborate arch with stone wrapped around part of it.

“Come on, the way out is up ahead,” she said. “It’s imperative you all stay close to me for this next part.”

“Whatever it takes for us to leave,” Ominis anxiously said, “before our luck runs out.”

“Here’s hoping the magic won’t keep you three out,” she muttered as they made it to the arch. Sure enough, it was still the same where through the opening it had a stone hallway that couldn’t be seen outside.

Imelda took a deep breath and waited to make sure they were all close to her. While she was willingly walking forward, the three young men blindly stepped forward. Once they were all further in, Imelda checked on them.

“Are you all okay?” She asked.

Ominis’ eyebrows furrowed as he tilted the wand in his hand that was now feebly blinking its red light. Sebastian slowly moved his hand through the air while Garreth stared into the open air with perplexion.

Imelda was at least relieved they weren’t turning into skeletons, but it worried her when they didn’t seem to…see her.

“Garreth?” She waved her hand in front of him, but he didn’t react. She slowly added, “Can you…hear me?”

Again, no response, and Garreth turned to Sebastian and Ominis. “Guys, where’s Imelda?”

“I don’t know, she was right there,” Sebastian answered.

“I lost the trace on her,” Ominis added.

Imelda’s heart pounded. They couldn’t see or hear her, how was she going to get them out of here?

She hesitantly reached out and grabbed Garreth’s hand. He yelped at the touch and nearly withdrew, but then he gasped as his eyes actually met hers.

“Imelda!” He exclaimed with relief. He gawked at their surroundings, and she realized he could now see the hallway.

“Garreth!” Sebastian and Ominis cried out, aghast.

Garreth winced. “Ah, they might think I was whisked away into darkness like you were,” he explained.

Imelda frowned. “I can’t hold all of your hands,” she said. “How can I get all of you to see?”

“Let me…try something,” Garreth offered. He grabbed Sebastian’s wrist, and the Slytherin gasped before he relaxed upon seeing him.

“Quick, grab Ominis before he panics,” Imelda urged as she watched Ominis start to look horrified and helpless.

Sebastian didn’t need any more nudging, and he held Ominis’ elbow. Ominis stiffened before letting out a long breath.

“What happened?” Ominis asked.

Imelda answered, “We have to stay in physical contact. That’s how you’re able to hear me and see this area.”

She looked back at the open doorway they needed to get to. Memories resurfaced about the next hallway being flooded…but a bubble of air surrounded her. She hoped this chain of theirs would work for that too.

“Hold hands or whatever you need to hold onto,” she told them. She quickly adjusted to hold Garreth’s hand with her left while her right hand had her wand. She looked over her shoulder, making sure they were all connected and ready, and then she led the way with careful strides. “If you hear water coming down in this next area, that’s normal.”

“That doesn’t sound foreboding at all,” Ominis nervously remarked.

Imelda could hear Garreth warily breathing, but she tried to reassure him with a small squeeze of his hand. She wished she warned him sooner, to better prepare him.

Once all four of them were standing on the barren stone passage, water crashed down from above. The room started to flood, and Imelda’s heart squeezed when she felt Garreth had a death grip on her hand. One look over her shoulder showed how pale and utterly frightened he was.

“It’s only for a moment,” she imploringly said, not ever intending to let go of his hand.

Sure enough, once the water started reaching their boots, wisps of pale blue light rose around their feet. Imelda was glad she didn’t have to worry about whether her friends would be safe; her magic could tell she needed them.

Once the bubble surrounded them, Imelda moved forward. Garreth followed her, but she could hear how haltingly his steps were. Even though they had a supply of air, everyone seemed to be tensely holding their breath.

When they finally made it to the door, it shifted to another arch with a ripply film over the entire opening. Imelda didn’t hesitate to walk through, eager to get them out of here.

They came across familiar architecture of blue and gold color concepts with strange swirls in the stone walls, as well as the same cressets of blue-white flames.

Each of them let go of each other’s hands, now breathing easily. Imelda stared up at Garreth, whose face was slowly returning to color. She reached up before stopping herself from doing something as insane as cupping his cheeks.

She cleared her throat and searched his expression. “Are you alright?” She whispered.

He was still trembling as he nodded, and she grounded him the best she could by holding his hand again. He took a few more deep breaths, gradually calming down, and he looked at her with immense gratitude that meant far more than anyone else would have thought. But she knew and understood; he entrusted her with his secret, after all.

Only when Garreth was alright did Imelda slowly (and reluctantly) let go of his hand. She looked at Sebastian and Ominis, who seemed to have kindly turned their attention elsewhere.

“We’re running out of time if we don’t want to get caught after curfew,” she told them. “Come on.”

They went up the stairs and found themselves in the Map Chamber again. Niamh was the only one standing in her portrait with her hands clasped in front of her.

The Keeper regarded the group with an impressed expression mixed with surprise. “I did not know you three would make it coming in that way,” she mused to the boys. She looked at Imelda with interest. “This is quite a new discovery; your magic must be evolving in a way different from ours.”

Imelda didn’t know what to make of that theory. Would that mean her magic could become more powerful? If so, how would it be powerful? Maybe she should ask Fig sometime about this development.

“Where are the others?” Imelda asked.

Niamh gravely answered, “They have checked the locations of their trials for any new updates about the goblins.”

Sebastian stepped forward. “What’s going on now?” His eyes flashed with fear. “Is Feldcroft in danger?”

Niamh held up a hand. “I do not think so. But Charles and Percival still have goblins searching both Rookwood Castle and San Bakar’s Tower.”

“But Bakar is also gone,” Garreth pointed out. “Where is his trial if his tower has already been used?”

“That information is only for Imelda to know, when the time comes for her last trial. All you need to know is that San is making sure it’s secure for when its location will be revealed.”

Imelda sighed. “I thought we’ve gotten past being vague with each other,” she muttered to Niamh. Out of the four Keepers, she liked Niamh the most. Even if she was mostly annoyed with them.

“I understand your impatience, Imelda,” Niamh quietly said. “I do,” she insisted when Imelda gave her a disagreeable look. “But what this last trial shows is not one to be taken lightly. You must be prepared for it, and stay true to yourself no matter what you see.”

And what if I don’t know exactly who I am? Imelda uneasily thought.

Niamh gave her a sympathetic look as if she could read her mind. Maybe Imelda was more expressive about her doubts than she assumed. “You will find your answers soon enough, I know it. And when you do, you will be ready.”

Imelda hesitated before saying, “Thank you.”

With that, the four of them left the Map Chamber and went up into the dungeons.

“You guys know the way from here,” Imelda said.

“Where are you going?” Garreth curiously asked, and Sebastian and Ominis stayed back to find out as well.

She patted her legside pocket. “I have to finish my task.”

“Do you want us to…?” Sebastian offered before trailing off when he saw her shake her head.

“This is something I should do on my own,” she muttered. “This has been a couple years too late on my end.” She nodded to each of them. “Thank you all for coming with me and helping me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sebastian waved it off with a grin while Ominis nonchalantly shrugged.

“You know me,” Sebastian said, “I’m always up for some thrilling adventure.”

“I’m just glad no one was in danger,” Ominis said. He thoughtfully rubbed the side of his neck. “Or rather, no one was in too grave of danger.” His sightless eyes flicked to Garreth before he frowned to himself, clearly thinking about something.

Garreth, however, just gave Imelda a warm smile. “I’ll always be there to help, you know that.”

Her lips automatically spread to a tiny smile of her own. “Thank you,” she said with an underlying relieved tone. If it weren’t for Garreth’s potions, she didn’t think she would have fared as well as she did.

He understood, and his eyes softened even more. “Always,” he murmured.

She didn’t know how one word could cause an extraordinary sensation throughout her entire body, but she held onto it with a warmed, fluttering heart.

Deep down, she knew it was a matter of time before she could stop denying herself from her feelings. Whenever that was, she hoped she wouldn’t be so petrified over losing what she had. For now, though, she hoped Garreth knew how much he mattered to her, even if she couldn’t say it verbally. And maybe…the flicker in his expression told her he did.

Imelda stepped back from the boys and bade them a good night. Then she went the other way out of the dungeons, having an idea on where her one and only ghost friend was…

~~~

The Owlery was vacant at this time of the evening. Imelda knew curfew was fast approaching, so this had to be brief.

She climbed up to the second-highest level, trying to not disturb the resting owls that were in their nooks. Instead, she went to where the jackdaw knickknacks were, lightly brushing a finger along one of the beaks.

Imelda bitterly smiled, remembering when her younger self grumbled about having to find the birds and do a “ridiculous puzzle”, all to find the thief who had the pages she needed.

She felt sick from the icy guilt seizing her stomach as she subconsciously touched her legside pocket again. She hated herself for how selfish she was, caring more about pages and wanting to have all these trials done and over with because of Quidditch. She prioritized her own desires and goals over someone.

I mustn’t ever do that again, she vowed to herself.

In the corner of her eye, she saw something pale move through the walls. She turned to face the ghost, and she let out a small breath. He looked just like how she remembered, with the dark gray wavy hair (she wondered what color it actually was when he was alive) over the right side of his face, the high collar and tie with a brooch, along with a nice attire of a suit.

“Richard Jackdaw,” she quietly said.

The young man’s eyes widened before he gave her a pleasantly surprised smile. “Imelda Reyes!” He chuckled as he floated closer to her. Her heart twisted from seeing the deep gash across his neck up close and personal. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

She swallowed. “My friends told me you notified them about me being in the Hospital Wing.”

He nodded just the slightest, not wanting to jostle his head off. “I hadn’t forgotten our encounter, Imelda.” He lowered his gaze. “After I sent you off on your own, I realized how cowardly I was, and—”

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I…I should have been more courteous.”

He looked back at her with remorse. “I thought the least I could do was help your friends be there for you.”

His guilt was misplaced; none of what happened was his fault, and that made her feel even more guilty. She shook her head. “Richard, it’s okay. I don’t resent you, nor hold against you what happened those years ago.” She put a hand on her heart. “I shouldn’t have been so…entitled and bratty. And most of all, I shouldn’t have left you there in that dreadful place.”

Richard’s pale eyebrows furrowed before he finally sensed something. “Wait…” He lowered himself to be at eye level with Imelda as he stared at her pocket. He inhaled sharply and looked back at her. “Is that…?”

She nodded. “You deserve a better resting place,” she quietly said. “A-and I don’t mean to say it’s because I feel bad for what I did and I want to make myself feel better. I just…really want you to be properly buried instead of having your bones wasted away there.”

Richard looked at her, obviously touched, and he sheepishly chuckled, lightly touching his hair. “I-I don’t know what to say.” “Just tell me where you’d like to be buried,” she suggested. “If you know of a place.”

Richard considered it for a moment before he nodded. “I think I know where.”

Imelda found herself going on the same path she followed Richard on all those years ago. This time, though, she wasn’t as frightened as she was before. Not only that, but Richard didn’t stay where he did before. This time, he went with her all the way to the pond, and per his request, they found a spot near her gardens and close to the books and tables that Imelda started to suspect were his own.

Richard proved her theory right when he stared wistfully at the tables. “I haven’t seen these tomes in so long,” he whispered.

The perfect spot was on the slope above the entrance, overlooking the beautiful pond reflecting the moonlight and having fireflies dancing along the surface.

She used magic to dig the grave, and then she carefully levitated the bones out of her pocket and gently laid them out in the ground.

Richard sighed with peace when she put the last of the dirt back. “Imelda, this was the best thing anyone has ever done for me since I’ve been a ghost.”

She nodded, happy to see him like this. “I’m glad I could finally do this,” she said.

Then she blinked at the feeling of ice brushing the crown of her head, and she realized it was the kiss of a ghost.

“Thank you,” he whispered before floating back from her and boyishly grinning. “You best be going. Unlike you, I don’t have to worry about curfew.”

She rolled her eyes with a faint smile. “See you around, Jackdaw.”

“See you around, Reyes.”

On her trek back to Hogwarts, Imelda felt a lightness in her heart. It was gratifying to help Richard, and she rode on that high, not too worried if she did get caught after curfew.

Chapter Text

It had been a week later that Sebastian finally had an update.

“Sharp said that he would confront Solomon this weekend,” he said as he sat down on the sofa between Ominis and Imelda in the common room. “He wanted to look into this possible hybrid of a concoction first before going in blind, so to speak. From the details both Garreth and Sharp told me, it’s horrible.”

“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” Ominis said.

He let out a long breath. “There’s at least progress for Anne, even if it’s not the cure.”

“What about the triptych, where you wanted to see if there was something to check out?” Ominis offered.

His jaw clenched as he stared at the fireplace. “I’m not going down that rabbit hole until Anne is safe. Once she’s out of Feldcroft, we can look more into it. For now, it’s set aside.”

“Fine with me,” Imelda replied. “It’d be nice to have a weekend where there’s no life-threatening excursion.”

“Hallowe’en is coming up, though,” Ominis mused. “I have heard of there being balls for such a holiday.”

Sebastian snorted. “Good luck trying to get Black to do that. He’s been in a foul mood ever since he announced the return of Quidditch.”

Imelda remembered that announcement a few days ago. Black forced it out like he was choking on something, and the entire student body was raucous with excitement. Isaac had even pulled Imelda into a hug from pure adrenaline, and she just stiffly patted his back in return. Next thing they knew, each House had already set up tryouts, not wanting to waste another minute. Imelda was still unsure about signing up, but she did love playing the game.

“I do miss dancing, though,” Ominis sighed. His pale-blue eyes softened with wistfulness. “My aunt taught me, and then it became one of our favorite pastimes.”

“And you’d want a certain Hufflepuff as your partner?” Imelda quietly asked.

Ominis blushed, but he didn’t deny it. “I don’t even know if she…” He trailed off with his expression turning gloomy again.

Sebastian moved the focus away from him. “If I were to dance with someone, it would be with Estelle, of course.” He sheepishly laughed. “Though, I don’t think I’m a good dancer. Chances are, I’d have to learn some healing spells for her toes.” Imelda and Ominis chuckled at the thought.

“And what about you?” Ominis asked Imelda.

She flushed at both boys’ curiously awaiting her response, but she was at least relieved to see they weren’t teasing her like before.

“Well, you both know my answer to that,” she muttered.

“Now I’m even more disappointed we don’t have a ball,” Sebastian said with a small sigh.

“You guys don’t,” she remarked.

Sebastian nodded before he furrowed his eyebrows, and Ominis beside him thoughtfully frowned.

“‘You guys don’t’?” Ominis repeated with skepticism.

It suddenly dawned on her how it sounded, and she realized what she slipped out.

“I should get going,” Imelda said, rising to her feet.

“No, you’re staying here,” Sebastian replied, grabbing her arm and bringing her back down onto the sofa.

She sighed, and she could feel both of their curious gazes. They’d get it out of her eventually, and the common room wasn’t particularly busy right now.

“Okay,” she said. “Garreth…invited me to an event that’s like a ball.”

That certainly got their attention as Sebastian straightened and Ominis moved to sit on the end of the sofa to face her better.

“Do you even know how to dance?” Ominis asked with a teasing lilt.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a savage, of course I know how to dance.”

Sebastian tilted his head. “Since when? I’ve never seen you dance once.”

“We’ve had lives before this year when we really hit it off,” she pointed out, and Sebastian shrugged as he saw her point.

“Well, I never thought Imelda would beat us for having a date,” Ominis said, faintly smiling. “I’m sure it will be a nice evening.”

Imelda blushed. “I-I don’t know if I’d call it a date.”

Sebastian looked at her as if she said books were ridiculous. “Seriously? What, then, do you call a night where the boy you snogged with, the boy you fancy, and also the boy who looked after you against your biggest fear, asks you to a ball?”

“It’s just one night, though, and—”

“I don’t understand,” Ominis cut in. “Why are you hesitating on it so much when you clearly like him?”

“Not to mention he likes you,” Sebastian added.

Imelda looked at the freckled boy. “He really does?”

Sebastian started to look unamused. “You’re kidding, right?” He sighed and started to list off on his fingers: “He took care of you before telling us someone bullied you, he helped make Polyjuice for you and then proceeded to help you while risking suspension, he has been going along with all of your insane ancient magic trials and the like, he had a Calming Draught especially made for you when we dealt with spiders, and now he’s asking you to a ball.”

“Where even is this ball?” Ominis quietly asked himself in utter confusion.

“The point is Garreth either made an Unbreakable Vow to be there for you till death,” Sebastian continued, “or he loves you.” He put a hand over his heart. “Take it from me, only a man would do all of that if it was for a girl he cared for.”

Imelda’s heart raced with everything Sebastian said. She knew she was trying to not look too much into it as she didn’t think Garreth would want to be with her. Why would he like her? Wait, not like — love. Doubts crept in, and her heart started to sink instead of fluttering.

No, no, come on, she told herself. She hated how quickly her insecurities got the better of her, especially when everything Sebastian said was true! Why would he do all of that if it weren’t because he cared for her? Her heart started to rapidly flutter like a Snitch’s wings, but at least her stomach wasn’t churning.

“Imelda, I see that look on your face, don’t be hard on your—” Sebastian started.

“I just need some fresh air, that’s all,” she said as she got off the sofa and headed to her dorm.

She hurried into her dorm, which was empty, and changed into her Quidditch uniform. She grabbed her Night Dancer and took quick strides out of the common room.

Sebastian and Ominis didn’t need to worry; she just wanted to clear her head.

~~~

For the rest of the afternoon, Imelda flew all around the Quidditch Pitch and practiced manoeuvres she knew like the back of her hand. If anyone saw her right now, they’d assume she was polishing off her skills for the try-outs, but that was far from her goals.

Flying was what she knew best, and it would always be her element.

She only slowed down when her mind went completely blank, and she hovered high above the Pitch, catching her breath. She wiped off sweat with the sleeve of her uniform as her chest ached from the lungfuls of air she inhaled. It had been a long time since she trained that strenuously, but it felt good.

Once she recovered, she grew tired of the sight and started heading for the Forbidden Forest. She stayed on alert just in case, but there wasn’t any sign of trouble down below. Then she saw the pond she knew from anywhere, and she carefully descended in a spiral, deftly landing right on the rocky shore.

Even though she let more people in on this place, she still thought of it as her sanctuary.

“Imelda?”

She looked over her shoulder, already half-smiling at the one ghost friend she’d somehow made. He floated down to her with a pleasantly surprised grin. It seemed like he was a lot happier, full of life in a way.

“Hey, Richard,” she said.

“What brings you here?” He chuckled with his hands behind his pale figure as he nodded his disconnected head to her garden. “Well, this is your place too, I suppose.”

“It was your place first,” she reasoned with a shrug before coming to the table full of his tomes. She laid her broom onto the free space of the table. “To answer your question, I…wanted to clear my mind.”

Richard inquisitively hummed, gliding through the air and perching himself to hover on the table. “Whatever about?”

Heat rose in her cheeks like always, and she softly cleared her throat. “Richard…did you…” she lifted her eyes to meet his curious grayed ones “ever have feelings for someone?”

Richard’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a long breath in spite of having no lungs.

“I know that there was…Apollonia,” she hesitantly added, watching his expression turn as grave as a cemetery. “A-also—”

“Anne,” he softly finished, staring blankly at the pond.

His tone made Imelda worry she overstepped in this conversation she barely started. She didn’t know what to say, especially to the ghost that seemed lost in memories from decades ago. Ones that made him torn between wistfulness and remorse.

“I…thought I loved Apollonia,” Richard eventually said. “She kept refusing my attempts of wooing, but I always caught an amused smile from her. As if I needed to keep trying.” He scoffed. “But now, I believe she just liked playing me for a desperate fool. Someone to keep baiting into thinking they’re almost there.

“I thought I had the signs of love from her: nervousness to a point of nausea, frequent blushing, maybe some shared shy laughs, heart beating so fast and hard you could feel it in your ears.”

Imelda averted her gaze, reminded of how she felt involving Isaac… “And…that wasn’t love?”

“No,” he said, and she looked back at him as he shook his wobbling head. “It was more of an infatuation. But Anne…” He ruefully smiled. “She was one of my best friends. She was always there for me, and we were comfortable with each other. We shared banter and laughs, and…I always felt warm with her. Like I was at home.

“Anne was willing to go along with my silly puzzles and treasure hunts, and I wonder if maybe she did love me, and I was too blind to see it.”

Imelda couldn’t help but compare, given how similar her circumstances were with Richard. As if for the final nail in the coffin,

“My advice, Imelda? If you feel that way about someone…tell them,” he solemnly told her, looking her straight in the eye.

“Okay.”

There was no point denying or fighting what she knew without a certainty, and now she knew what she had to do next.

~~~

“Well, I’m flattered you invited me to help you, Imelda,” Poppy said, bouncing on her heels. She curiously looked at the array of colorful dresses Gladrags supplied. “But I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

Natty tittered as she lightly touched a silk sleeve. “I think it’s more about giving support and second opinions.”

Poppy made a small noise and leaned closer to Imelda, who was staring at the dresses with crossed arms. “I didn’t think having a human friend would entail this, but I’m not against it.”

“This usually isn’t how I like to spend my afternoon either,” Imelda muttered with a sigh.

“And what is this for, exactly?” Natty asked with a curious, excited shine in her eyes. Imelda was glad she could join them; the Gryffindor told her Professor Onai was insistent on keeping her at the school grounds. And this trip seemed to cheer her up too.

Imelda answered with a casual-enough tone, “A dance with Garreth.”

Poppy gasped with delight while Natty smiled knowingly. Of course they knew something was up, Imelda thought while fighting a blush.

“Well, in that case,” Natty mused, going over to shades of red and orange. Her smile grew. “You know Garreth’s favorite color, right?”

His handkerchief instantly popped into her mind, and Imelda gravitated toward a sunset orange satin dress. She pulled it out and even took it over to the mirror, holding it in front of herself. Poppy and Natty came up to each of her sides, looking at Imelda with eager smiles.

“You’ll look beautiful in it,” Poppy complimented.

Natty nodded and added, “Garreth will love it too.”

Imelda smiled, believing it in her anxious, anticipating heart. Even though part of her wanted to inquire about Harlow and poachers, she ignored it. Just for today, all three girls were spending a normal day doing a rather mundane errand. It felt more luxurious to Imelda than she could ever fathom.

She turned to Augustus Hill, who was patiently waiting at the register with his cup and saucer. “I’d like to purchase this one, please.”

~~~

Hallowe’en night was finally here. While most students went out to the Great Hall feast or even Hogsmeade for festivities, Imelda stayed in her dorm. She carefully took the dress out of her trunk with a deep breath. Tonight was when she’d finally face her fear and tell Garreth. In a way, she felt like she was about to go into battle, with excitement and adrenaline coursing through her veins.

She held onto those feelings as she started to change into her “armor”.

Imelda gave herself one last look in her dorm’s mirror. The orange dress had an open neckline with sleeves running down to her wrists, and the satin skirt glistened like embers with every turn she made. She self-consciously brought her hair over her shoulder, brushing it with her hands.

Any resemblance of courage she had, even the support Poppy and Natty gave her earlier, seemed to fizzle out. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore a dress, and it only made her even more nervous. Her hands tightened on her hair, and she winced from the sharp tug.

Imelda took a deep breath and slowly let go of her hair.

“It’s just a dance, it’s not anything too hectic,” she muttered to herself as she grabbed her black cloak and fastened it to cover her shoulders and flow down her back.

She honestly didn’t know how she managed to walk without her knees knocking together, but she trekked through the halls and out of the vacant common room.

The snake arch slithered back to the ground after she left, and her heart surged with a surreal mixture of nerves, delight, and relief when her eyes landed on the sole occupant of the room.

Garreth was leaning his back against one of the stone columns, draped in dark brown dress robes that made his fiery red hair stand out like the torches around them. He turned to her, and his sea green eyes widened with his cheeks pinkening. A smile spread across his freckled face as he walked closer to her.

“You…” He paused.

Imelda waited with a little lift of her eyebrows.

“You clean up nice.”

She blinked, feeling more deflated than she expected. But then she stifled a laugh, before a chuckle passed her lips at Garreth’s panicked expression. “That’s the best you could come up with?” She lightly ribbed.

“I—” He sighed and scratched the back of his hand. “Give me a break; I’m not used to seeing you in a dress or with your hair down. Or the fact you’re wearing my—” He stopped with a furious blush as he looked away.

Imelda raised an eyebrow, guessing what the end of that sentence was. Her heart hammered as she knew this could be a chance for her to tell him she did purposefully wear his color.

“The same color as my handkerchief,” he lamely said instead.

“Ah,” she replied, her own blush coloring her cheeks. “Right. Well…” She grabbed fistfuls of her skirt to try to ground herself and calm her nerves down for Merlin’s sake. She met his eyes, starting to feel self-conscious like before. “Thank you. For the…compliment.”

Garreth looked like he wanted to argue that it certainly wasn’t a compliment enough, but he merely shook his head and offered his arm. Imelda’s heart started pounding in her ears again as she stiffly put her hand at the crook of his elbow. She realized something as they started walking, and she blurted out,

“You too.”

Garreth looked at her with bemusement. “What?”

“Clean up,” she bumbled. “Dashing and all that.”

His eyes lit up with understanding, and he gave her a lopsided albeit amused grin. “Thank you.”

Imelda wanted to scream. What was wrong with her?!

It felt even worse when they walked in silence, and it was so awkward and tense. Imelda caught herself carefully walking in her flat dress shoes as if she were walking on eggshells. As special as this night was bound to be, she shouldn’t be so worked up! But, she was.

My first Quidditch game nerves were easier to handle than this, she bitterly thought.

“You’re plenty warm, right?” Garreth asked to fill in the silence.

“Yes,” she answered, gesturing to her cloak. “Where is this place, anyway?”

“Not far from the Dungeons, actually.” He looked this way and that past hallways before steering them down one that had bathrooms on each side. “We’re almost there.”

Imelda could feel a chill in the air as they went further along. Then there was an eerie blue glow emitting at the entrance of a hallway to their left. If Garreth weren’t here, she would have turned on her heel and gone back. His confidence, though, was contagious, and she stayed calm by his side.

“This is it,” he murmured as he led the way down the very cold, blue hallway. At the end was a gated door, where Imelda caught glimpses of ghosts gliding by. She never thought body warmth would be as grounding as it was in this moment.

Her breath formed a cloud as Garreth opened the gate for her. What she first noticed was the blue glow came from floating candles lit with white flames. It caused a colder but…calmer atmosphere in a way. Dated music from what Imelda could only guess was the Baroque period echoed through the ballbroom, played by a ghost orchestral ensemble. The pale forms of ghosts dancing all around the vacant room provided dimmer lights of their own, enough to keep Garreth and Imelda from casting Lumos.

As they stepped further in, the sights nearly distracted Imelda from a rotting smell. Her nose still caught it, though, and she struggled to refrain from making a disgruntled noise.

Garreth beside her cursed under his breath. “Er, sorry. I…forgot the ghosts often have rotten food for the party.”

“What for? They can’t eat.”

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head as he explained in a lower voice, “Sir Nicholas once explained to me that rotten meat was pungent enough for them to smell it, and it makes them feel like they can taste it.”

Imelda furrowed her eyebrows, but she looked to the right where the source of the foul smell came from. A couple ghosts were conversing by a long table full of rotten food like meat and molden bread. Others were slowly passed through the food with mostly content expressions as if it would have to do.

“You get used to it eventually,” Garreth tentatively added. He guided her to the left of the room, closer to the tables off to the side than the dance floor.

Say something, she urged herself.

“It’s…tolerable.” He looked faintly hurt, and she wanted to kick herself. “I-I meant the smell.”

Garreth sighed. “Right.”

Imelda started to feel worse. She couldn’t say the right things, and now she was certain Garreth was regretting inviting her here.

“I’m sorry,” she uttered, glancing at him before looking down in shame. “I-I just…I’ve never…”

“For a couple of warm bodies, you’re stiff enough to be ghosts.”

Imelda whirled around. “Richard?”

The ghost himself gave her a lopsided grin as he floated to her eye level. “Bonjour, amour,” he said with a chuckle. “I believe that is French.”

She shook her head with a smile, feeling better thanks to Richard. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“We can’t keep away from each other, it seems,” he jokingly mused. Then he floated around the two of them for a moment. “I usually stick around another ghost, though, one who’s…lonely too.”

Imelda and Garreth exchanged a confused look about who that could be. She searched the ballroom. Sir Nicholas was regaling the Fat Friar with another tale from his life, but she couldn’t find the Bloody Baron. Maybe him?

“Then I heard about two students that were coming this way, and I had to see for myself,” he added with a small laugh. He moved to hover behind Garreth, and he looked at him before meeting Imelda’s eyes with an inquisitive wiggle of his eyebrows.

Imelda merely narrowed her eyes at him. Don’t you dare say anything, she warned him, even though she knew he couldn’t read her mind.

Richard grinned roguishly, making her heart nervously pound.

He cocked his head — which nearly fell off its neck — as he listened carefully to a new song starting.

“Vivaldi’s Four Seasons!” He gestured to them. “Well, don’t just stand there, go on and dance!”

Garreth blushed hard despite the frigid air. “I-I don’t know…”

“I haven’t tried dancing with a live lady since I was a ghost, but I guess I could—” Richard started to offer with a hand out to Imelda.

“Would you like to dance, Imelda?” Garreth hastily asked.

She nodded, nonplussed. Richard gestured to his own clavicle. She unclasped the cloak before setting it on the closest chair. Then she put her hand in Garreth’s, and they walked onto the dance floor together. She drew in a sharp breath when he hesitantly placed his hand on her waist, and she saw his Adam’s apple bob as she put hers on his shoulder.

Richard floated to be in her sight again and gave her a grin and salute before disappearing through the walls.

Garreth cleared his throat as he slowly started a box step in time with the song. “I apologize beforehand in case I step on your toes.”

She saw in his eyes what she often saw in herself before games: performance anxiety. “Do you…not dance?” She slowly asked.

“Not really,” he mumbled. “I mean, my mother and sister had me learn, but that was years ago.” He scoffed to himself before mumbling more, but Imelda strained her ears to pick it up. “Of course, I invited her to a ballroom. What was I supposed to expect?”

“It’s easier if you focus on your partner,” Imelda suggested as the song’s tempo picked up. Muscle memory served her well as she danced to the music sufficiently enough. Her lips twitched with amusement as she saw a flicker of surprise in Garreth’s eyes as he followed her lead.

“Imelda, do you dance often?” He asked with an impressed smile to accompany the astoundment in his voice.

She hummed a little as they danced between two ghost couples; they seemed to have moved closer to the middle of the ballroom. “My father works at the Ministry and is often invited to formal gatherings. Over the years, there would be a few galas where my mother encouraged my father to dance with me.” She let herself smile more at the treasured memories. “My father…has an injury from Quidditch, so it meant a lot that he was willing to still teach me how to dance and often dance with both my mother and me.”

Garreth smiled fondly as if he could picture it himself. “He sounds like a good father.”

“He is,” she said. “When…he has time.”

She averted her gaze, thinking about how such moments of dancing or showing her father her grades over the years were sparse in comparison to times she didn’t bother him when he was in his study.

“Ah,” was all Garreth could say in response.

The song kept playing a happier mood than what clouded over these two. Imelda felt bad for bringing it down, and she tried to salvage it.

“My father always said I was a good dancer, though. He thinks it might be my coordination from Quidditch that helps me most.”

“I can see that,” Garreth mused with a thoughtful expression. “You have good timing and can synchronize well with your teammates. Of course dancing would be in line for you to be excellent in.”

She snorted and fought a smile. “You make it sound like you noticed how I played over the years.”

He chuckled as they swiftly danced around another pair. “Well, me playing around with that Sloth Grip Roll was also practice. To see how you managed to steal the Quaffle from the Hufflepuff chaser.”

Her eyes widened a little. “You remember that from our third year?”

“I was curious about how the star player, one who’d been on the team since she was a first year, was in games.” He stared into her eyes with an indiscernible expression. “I guess you always had my attention.”

“Why me?” She couldn’t help but ask.

His jaw slackened as if he worried he shouldn’t have said more, and fear struck her when she saw a guarded look on his face.

“Garreth,” she imploringly said with a quick squeeze of his hand. He hesitantly met her eyes, and she nervously wet her lips. “You keep saying ‘because it’s you’ about me.”

“Yes,” he said with a confused lilt.

“What do you…?” She started this question, she might as well finish it. “What do you mean by that?”

He ducked his head before lifting his gaze with that same indiscernible expression on his face. “I thought you knew by now.”

She had an idea because of Sebastian and Ominis, but… “I want to hear it from you.” Garreth hesitated. “Please.”

A moment passed of them simply dancing to Vivaldi as Garreth gathered his thoughts. He took a deep breath.

“When I first said it, I meant it as you weren’t like anyone I’d ever met. In our first year, you were the only one that didn’t just instantly accept my offer of friendship.” He chuckled. “As a boy new to school and excited to make friends, you were different and piqued my interest.

“Then, well, throughout the next few years, I noticed how determined and passionate you are. Along with being stubborn.”

She gave a little scoff, and he grinned before continuing,

“But…what made you stand out to me was what you told me after that game in third year.”

Imelda furrowed her eyebrows as she dredged up that memory. “When…I said you had potential?”

He lit up, pleased she remembered it too, and his grin turned softer. “I wasn’t used to hearing…positive reinforcement.” He shrugged as he kept leading in the dance. “I told you before tha my family doesn’t support me like I wished, so hearing you not scoff or brush my passionate work aside… It really stuck with me.”

Imelda turned warmer from his words, never fathoming how impactful that one conversation was. “I guess when I came to you about…” She glanced at the ghosts around them, knowing they were a major contributor to rumor mills. But Garreth fought a smile as he knew she was referring to Polyjuice. “That was also supportive?”

“In a way,” he said with a chuckle. “You put a lot of trust and faith in me to brew it. And I appreciated it.”

She nodded, faintly smiling. “You are a potions prodigy, after all.”

He laughed. “That’s right, I am.” They danced for a moment longer before he added, “I guess I always noticed you. I just didn’t know why for the longest time.”

She wondered if he was living up to that Gryffindor bravery, or if he wanted her to say something first. She waited with bated breath for any cue she could pick up about one way or the other.

But she was only met with silence.

“And what’s the reason?” She asked, hardly masking her impatience.

He stared at her with a serious, contemplative expression. He slowly stopped dancing and let go of her hand.

“Please indulge me for a moment,” he murmured. “I want to try something.”

Even though she was confused, she trusted him as he gently cupped her cheek. Her chest ached from the cold as she inhaled sharply, but she didn’t move away. She stayed focused on the same seas she longed to drown in, which darkened as he leaned closer.

On instinct, she fluttered her eyes closed right as she felt his tentative breath warm her lips. Then he carefully caressed them with his own, and that same warmth from when they first kissed came rushing back. Her heart was beating harder and faster by the second, and she was intent on chasing this wondrous feeling.

She leaned closer and returned the kiss, following his lead this time and being just as gentle. While their first kiss was rushed and heated, this felt more intimate to her in a way. They could take their time as they kissed again and again; softly, but just as passionate. She held tighter onto his shoulders as he kissed her breath away, making her forget she was ever cold in this ballroom.

In the span of both a second and an eternity, they broke the kiss, but Garreth leaned his forehead against hers. She kept her eyes closed as she selfishly savored even the lightest touch from him when he rubbed her cheek with his thumb.

“I…wanted to do that at least once,” he murmured. “Now I know.”

She opened her eyes and drank in the beautiful sight of his flushed, freckled face. She finally realized the expression she formerly thought was indiscernible. It was yearning, one that she knew and denied herself for so long.

Not anymore.

Imelda kept hold of the adrenaline he gave her and said, “If it’s about whether that feeling from our first kiss was a one time thing, it’s not.” She maintained eye contact as she continued, “I’ve felt this way about you for a while.” Garreth’s eyebrows shot up in mild shock, but she caught the elation in his green eyes. That encouraged her even more. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, a-and I’m new to it, but…maybe you could bear with me?”

He merely grinned and had both hands cup her face. “For you, I’ll bear with it all.”

Imelda’s smile grew, even when she thought it was impossible. She couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow and playfully ask, “Because it’s me?”

Garreth heartily chuckled and leaned down to whisper: “Because it’s you.”

Then he conveyed his devotion with another kiss, which she returned with equal adoration. That night was more sensational than any Quidditch game she played and left her happier than the times she won the Quidditch House cup. Nothing could compare how only Garreth could make her feel.

There was more to her life than just Quidditch, and she had Garreth to thank for realizing it.

Chapter Text

Aesop limped on the trodden path of Feldcroft. He searched the hamlet for a familiar old comrade, and found him in front of a small house, magically weeding the yard.

He felt for his wand in his umber overcoat before walking closer. He had already told his old friends in the Ministry to give him a headstart before they came…

Solomon heard his footsteps and looked over his shoulder, his flinty gaze softening just the slightest.

“Aesop,” he greeted, albeit surprised.

“Solomon,” he said back in an even tone.

He waved his wand, ceasing the weeding as he turned to the Potions professor. “What brings you here?”

“I was hoping to catch up with you,” Aesop diplomatically said. Solomon’s dark eyebrows furrowed with skepticism all the same. “It’s been…a couple years, hasn’t it?”

“The last time you came here, it was because of that Gaunt boy,” he gruffly said, but he was already walking toward the front door. Aesop clenched his jaw a little and followed him; he knew the man could be too proud to simply invite him in.

“More like four years, then,” Aesop amended as Solomon grunted in agreement.

“Do keep it down. Anne is sleeping.”

With or without the influence of the concoction? Aesop wryly thought. “Understood.”

The Potions professor stepped into the house, seeing that it hadn’t changed since he last came. Maybe the curtains that were drawn closed to the left were new, but it was still as shabby as he remembered.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Solomon offered as Aesop sat at the table, positioned to watch his host’s every move.

“No, thank you, I wanted to keep this visit brief.”

Solomon scoffed, but he didn’t argue. He came over and sat across from Aesop. “So, what’s this about?”

“I’ve been told some concerning things involving your niece and nephew,” Aesop bluntly started. Solomon stiffened for a moment before frowning deeply. “You’re welcome to claim it’s not true, but I’d say that I don’t believe you. Best save time and tell me the truth, Solomon.”

The man only drummed his fingers on the table before muttering, “What have you heard?”

Aesop’s eyes narrowed. “I trusted you when Ominis was staying with the Sallow twins as often as he could. But you mucked it up. Immensely.”

“Sebastian was not being easy to manage,” Solomon defensively growled.

“And that warranted you to strike him?” He sharply asked back.

“He kept following a fool’s dream to cure his sister, I had to snap sense into him.’

“From what I heard, it was a slap of sense.”

“You weren’t there.”

Aesop drew his fingers close into a fist on the table surface. “I wish I was.”

Solomon glared. “I would never harm that Gaunt boy, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I don’t care about just his well-being.”

“Now that you’re a guardian too, you’re more altruistic? You’re not a perfect parental figure, Aesop.”

His fist tightened more. “I never said I was.”

Solomon pressed more, though. “Where were you when Ominis needed you, hm?”

Aesop’s teeth gnashed. “Enough, Solomon. I never laid a finger on him like you did with your own nephew.”

He clicked his tongue and looked away.

“You said you’d never harm Ominis, but you would hurt your own flesh and blood?” He demanded, rising to his feet.

“He’s not mine! He was my brother’s!” Solomon stayed in his seat and watched. Aesop, who walked around the table. “I never thought I’d have to take in these two, but I did, and I did the best I could to handle and raise them.”

“The best?” Aesop echoed in an exclamation, waving his wand and making the curtains instantly open. He didn’t turn his back to Solomon, whose eyes widened as he realized what was happening, and he waved his wand to nonverbally bring the potion kit to his waiting hand.

“Aesop—” Solomon started to rise, but then realized he couldn’t; Aesop had casted a Stickfast Hex to his shoes, keeping him in his chair. Solomon tried to reach for his wand in his pocket—

“Expelliarmus,” Aesop said, and Solomon’s wand flew out of his own hand. It clattered harmlessly onto the wooden floor meters away.

Aesop meticulously looked at each vial in the kit, feeling Solomon’s glare bore holes into his head. Garreth told him, he experimented it himself, but the damning evidence before him still shocked him to his core.

“Why…would you dare to mix the Drowsiness Draught and the Weakness Potion?” He calmly asked with his knuckles turning white from how tightly he held the kit. He lifted his gaze to meet Solomon, but the other man couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I only first made the Draught to help Anne sleep better when she had her bouts,” he explained.

“Then you decided that wasn’t enough?” Aesop demanded. “You wanted to exhaust her that much more?”

“It helped her!” Solomon roared. “She never had her pain when she was too tired to even think.”

“Between the twins, she was the more mischievous one too.”

Solomon pointed at Aesop. “I know what you’re trying to imply, but–”

“You kept repeatedly saying ‘manage’, as if you had to control them, especially Sebastian,” Aesop shot back. “And it wouldn’t be your first time trying to control either.”

“I knew you would bring that up! You and Wilson never let that go! He was always trying to be a perfect Auror.”

“Don’t speak ill of the dead,” Aesop warned.

“Whose fault was it that he died in the first place?”

Aesop tensed before glowering.

“Un…cle?”

The two men looked at Anne mildly holding her midsection as she looked at Solomon with dismay. Aesop grimly noticed the vivid dark circles under her eyes and paleness in her face.

“W-what are you talking about?” Anne asked, looking up at Aesop. Her brown eyes were wide with fear as if she didn’t want to believe it.

“I’m sorry you had to learn it this way, Miss Sallow,” Aesop quietly said.

Sorrow replaced fear; she knew it was true.

“Anne, don’t listen to him. I was just trying to take care of you,” Solomon implored.

“By poisoning me?” She demanded in her frail tone. She hissed under her breath before gathering enough strength to glare at him. “How long had you been doing this to me? Months? Months where I could have recovered if not for—”

She let out a sharp cry, bending over a little. Aesop carelessly waved his wand and the potion kit floated to be by Solomon’s wand on the floor. Left to be taken as evidence for later. Which reminded him…

“Miss Sallow, come with me,” Aesop told her as he gently rubbed her back. She took shuddering breaths while she slowly nodded. He kept his arm around her shoulders as they walked out of the house.

“Anne, don’t leave!” Solomon called out. “Aesop! I swear I meant—”

Aesop didn’t bother hearing the last of the sentence, having closed the door behind them. He didn’t stop until they were near the well in the center of the hamlet.

“Miss Sallow?” He carefully asked, leaning down a bit to check on her.

Her breathing was still shaky, but her eyes welled up with tears. “I knew…that my uncle didn’t always like raising Sebastian and I, but…I never thought he’d do something like this,” she whispered.

Aesop calmly rubbed her back. “I’m sorry all the same; the one that is supposed to look after and take care of you shouldn’t have stooped to such levels.”

Anne sniffled and stared up at him. “He was just trying to ease my pain. Nothing can cure it.”

“We don’t know that,” he firmly replied.

“It’s hopeless,” she whispered, lowering her head and idly holding her midsection again. “It was always hopeless.”

Aesop clenched his jaw and looked over Anne’s head to see his old colleagues enter the Sallow house. At least he kept her from watching her own uncle be apprehended; she’d been through enough already.

“Your brother hasn’t given up on you,” Aesop said, focusing back on her. She looked even more disheartened at the mention of Sebastian. “And I won’t either. If I had known earlier of your condition, I would have at least brewed something for your symptoms.”

Anne hesitated, as if she were afraid to even believe it was possible. Aesop loathed that a child was already looking like a shell of her former self. He remembered very clearly how much mischief she used to cause.

“Do you…really think it’s possible, Professor?” She asked, looking up and meeting his eyes again.

How long had she felt like there was no cure for her curse? How long had she felt it was pointless to hope?

No child should go through this, he thought. His heart ached as he knew another child that did, though.

“I do,” he solemnly said. Then he guided her out of the hamlet. “Now, I will retrieve your belongings later. But first…I think there are a few people that want to see you again.”

~~~

Sebastian was pacing in front of the fireplace that night. He knew Professor Sharp was supposed to go see Solomon today, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything, not even writing a letter in response to Estelle.

Imelda and Ominis were close by, closer to the windows looking out into the lake. The former was polishing her Night Dancer, looking far happier than usual, and the latter was simply relaxing in the rare moment of a quiet common room.

The entrance opened, and all three heads turned when they heard it. Two sets of footsteps echoed against the tile floor. One set belonged to their Potions professor, and the second…Sebastian inhaled sharply.

“Anne?” He asked.

His sister’s chestnut brown eyes lit up when she heard him. “Sebastian,” she said, tearing up with a watery smile.

He didn’t hesitate to run to her, engulfing her into a big hug. He choked out a sigh, ignoring the sting of his own tears as he held his sister. She might still be cursed, but he didn’t care. She was safe, and away from their uncle, that was what mattered right now.

Ominis soon came over, and the Sallow twins quickly pulled him in to join their hug. Imelda set her broom down and watched the three best friends have their reunion. She lowered her gaze, trying to not feel bitter from seeing it happen from the outside. For she understood that she wasn’t close to them until recently.

Professor Sharp might have sensed Imelda’s loneliness, as he limped over to her side.

“I doubt they’d mind if you joined them,” he pointed out.

Imelda wanted to protest, but then she heard Sebastian call her name. He grinned, a grin she hadn’t seen on his face for a couple weeks, and he waved her over. The heaviness on her heart was lifted off as she stepped closer to them.

Ominis and Sebastian wrapped their arms around and pulled her in. She stumbled a little, but regained her stance while Anne chuckled in amusement. Imelda simply scoffed with a smile of her own, happy that Sebastian wasn’t kept from his sister anymore. Happy that Ominis wasn’t kept from her either. And she…she was just happy to be part of this.

Sebastian was the one to move away first, and he turned to Sharp. “Thank you, Professor. Truly. I…I don’t know how I could ever—”

Aesop stopped him with a raised hand. “You needn’t worry about that, Mr. Sallow. All that matters is that your sister is alright.”

“Professor, is Anne staying here now?” Ominis asked.

He shook his head, his dark brown eyes softening as he regarded the blond boy. “I’m afraid not. She will need at least a few days to recover and have any remaining effects of the potion gone. From there, she will need another checkup. Staying here, even in the Hospital Wing, would raise many questions from even the Headmaster himself. I intend to have her temporarily stay at my home, where my wards are too. They’ll keep her company for the timebeing.”

Anne grinned, very eager and sly. “That means I get to know more about your lady friend, Sebastian.”

He chuckled, not worried in the slightest. “Thank you,” he said again to Sharp.

Sharp simply nodded. “Come, Miss Sallow. I want to make sure you have enough time to adjust to the new place before turning in for the night.”

“Yes, Professor,” Anne said. She quickly hugged Sebastian, and then Ominis. “I promise I’ll write to you both once I get there.” Then, to Imelda’s surprise, Anne hugged her too, only to whisper, “I expect to hear an update between you and Mr. Redhead as well.”

Imelda blushed, which caused Anne to smirk before she went back to Sharp. They bade each other good night, and soon, it was only Sebastian, Ominis, and Imelda left in the common room.

Sebastian sank into the closest armchair with an enormous sigh. He laughed to himself. “She’s okay, she’ll be okay.”

Ominis smiled and patted his shoulder. “That’s one less thing to worry about.”

Sebastian’s smile dwindled. “We still need to find a cure.”

“And we will,” Imelda promised, leaning her hip against the arm rest. “It’s still on my list of things I have to tackle before the school year is over.”

“Where exactly are ‘goblin rebellion’ and ‘Keepers’ trial’ on that list?” Sebastian joked.

Imelda playfully rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately on the high end.”

“And doing something about Weasley? We know Hallowe’en was last night,” Ominis remarked while crossing arms and smiling with plenty of amusement.

Imelda chuckled, blushing and smiling to herself on how that night ended. “Well…we might be officially courting now.”

Sebastian leaned forward and Ominis’s mouth fell open. “Really?” They chorused.

Imelda sighed. “You two act like such gossiping girls…”

“Well, forgive us for being so invested in your romantic life when you barely had any before,” Sebastian snarked.

Ominis lifted an eyebrow. “And it would be rude to not share more details at this point.”

Imelda had to admit, she was brimming with excitement and wanted to tell someone. And who better than the two she connected with aside from Garreth?

“Okay,” she said as she sat down on the couch adjacent. “So, we met in a hallway here in the Dungeons…”