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September 1st, 1891

There is a certain air of anticipation that hangs over Hogsmeade Station as another year of Hogwarts begins. Octavia felt it. She felt a buzz of excitement as she waited for the Hogwarts Express to arrive. She couldn’t wait to see her friends again after the long summer months. She had a lot to keep her occupied during the summer, but there were still moments when the stillness of her dorm got under her skin. Octavia found that she missed Imelda’s snoring; she found herself missing Nerida’s facts about Merpeople, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss hearing about recent rumors that Violet had overheard. 

Thankfully, she had Ominis to keep her company. Like her, he stayed at Hogwarts instead of returning home for the summer. The two would often make frequent trips to Hogsmeade and spend time together in the common room. He offered the raven-haired girl solace as she tried to focus on putting the events of her fifth year behind her. However, there were moments when memories of her harrowing encounter with Victor Rookwood, or her fierce battle with Ranrok, would seep into the front of her mind during quiet moments or particularly sleepless nights plagued with nightmares. 

But she wouldn’t let herself dwell on those thoughts now. Instead, her mind was filled with far too much excitement and anxiety to focus on anything other than the impending arrival of her friends. 

“Nervous?” Ominis asked from his spot on the bench beside her.

The two had walked to Hogsmeade Station together to greet their friends once the train arrived. They sat on a bench nestled near the ticket office. The wait had much more effect on Octavia than it did on Ominis. 

Octavia blinked at him. “What do you mean?” She asked, her face filled with confusion. 

Ominis smiled knowingly at her. 

“You’re shaking the bench,” he stated simply. The blonde boy pointed down at his housemate’s bouncing left knee, which was causing the old bench to rattle. 

Octavia’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she forced her knee to stop the rapid movement. She hadn’t even noticed. 

“Sorry, I didn’t even realize,” she murmured.

Her gloved fingers picked up the slack as her index and middle fingers began to tap at her knee and pick at the stitches in her black trousers. It was hard to remain still when she had so many feelings bottled up inside. 

“I’m just excited. I can’t wait to see everyone,” Octavia hummed as she stared down the tracks, hoping to see the train’s light. Unfortunately, all she saw was disappointing darkness.

Ominis nodded as he held his wand over his copy of The Daily Prophet.

“Me too,” he agreed. “I hope you’ll be able to experience arriving on the train. It was a thrilling experience taking my first ride on the Hogwarts Express,” he said fondly.

Octavia imagined what it must be like. It would most likely be much safer than her carriage ride last year. 

“I hope so as well.” Her eyes left the tracks and began glancing through the station. Soon, the quiet platform would be full of new and returning students. One of those students being Poppy.

Octavia felt her heart skip a beat. That happened a lot these days whenever she thought about the Hufflepuff. 

“It honestly feels unreal. Starting sixth year after everything that happened last year,” Octavia says, taking a glance at the boy next to her. 

Ominis shows no sign of discomfort at the mention of last year’s events. It was a topic of discussion that arose during many of their conversations in the common room once many of their housemates cleared out for the summer holiday. 

He nods as he flips his newspaper over.

“It does, but I’m glad it’s behind us. I’d much prefer to look at this year as a fresh start of sorts,” he explains. 

Octavia nods. “A fresh start,” she echoes before letting the topic end there.

A fresh start did sound nice. 

The two Slytherins were snapped out of their conversation as the loud train whistle sounded off. The Hogwarts Express had arrived. Octavia and Ominis stood from the bench as the train came to a halt. Their eyes searched the crowd as students, new and old, stepped off the train. The new students can be easily recognized by their nervous looks. 

“First years!” Mister Moon waves his hand to get their attention. “First years this way! Follow me!” the caretaker called from his place on the platform. The first years awkwardly made their way towards the man holding a lantern like moths to a flame. Octavia was about to ask Ominis what it was like crossing the lake as a first year, but her voice caught in her throat as a shout rang out over the chatter of the platform.

“Octavia! Ominis!” a familiar voice called out. 

Octavia turned towards the sound. She spotted Natty making her way over to the pair of Slytherins. 

“Natty!” Octavia grinned, happy to see her friend again. The Gryffindor approached with open arms, which the Slytherin happily responded to. The two witches embraced, overjoyed to see each other once again. “It is so good to see you again, my friend.” Natty expressed, taking a step back but keeping her hands on the Slytherin’s upper arms. 

“It’s good to see you, too. It’s been too long. You have to tell me all about Matabeleland.” Octavia insisted, wanting to know all about Natty’s visit to her homeland. 

Natty smiled and nodded. “Oh, I will,” she promised before turning to Ominis. “It is good to see you too, Ominis.” She said, turning to hug the taller boy. 

Ominis patted her on the back with a welcoming smile. “You too, Natty,” he responded warmly.

Before the three could continue their exchange, they were approached by Imelda Reyes. The Quidditch captain pushed her way through the crowd of students and quickly marched over. 

“There you are! Merlin, I thought we’d never make it. You’d think people would know how to get off a train at a faster pace.” Imelda groaned as she joined the group.

Octavia chuckled as Natty smiled and Ominis simply shook his head, amused. “Hello to you, too, Imelda.” 

“Oh, so you do remember me? I thought you’d forgotten since I barely heard from you all summer.” Imelda teased with faux surprise. Her hand rested over her chest like she had just been told astounding news. 

Octavia rolled her eyes playfully in response. “I had a busy summer. I tried to write as much as I could,” she explained. It was true. She had tried to keep in touch with her friends as much as she could, but sometimes time seemed to slip away from her. 

Imelda sighed, seemingly letting the topic go. “I’m sure. Anyway, you better be prepared for me to beat your record this year, Grace,” she smirked. 

“I’m shaking in my boots,” the raven-haired Slytherin replied with a monotone before she let a smile slip. 

The Quidditch captain let out a hearty chuckle.

“Do you think Professor Black will reinstate Quidditch this year?” Natty asked.

“He'd better! Kogawa has been on his tail about since he canceled it last season,” Imelda huffed. 

“I heard she went to the Ministry about it,” Ominis added. 

Octavia let her eyes wander around the platform as the three spoke. Her gaze seemed aimless, but she kept an eye out for a certain Hufflepuff. Several faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, passed by, but none belonged to the girl she hoped to see. 

“Octavia.” Natty’s voice pulled her back to reality. 

The Slytherin snapped out of it and turned her attention back to her friends. “Oh, yes?” she acknowledged. 

“Are you looking for someone?” Natty wondered. 

“Oh, no, I was just-” Octavia tried to explain, but Imelda interjected. 

“Looking for a certain Hufflepuff?” She asked with a teasing glint in her eyes. Clearly, Octavia was not as subtle as she hoped.

The taller girl felt her cheeks grow warm as she tried to ignore the mirthful giggle that escaped Natty’s lips. She schooled her expression to appear as casual as possible. 

“I could ask you the same thing, Imelda. How’s Adelaide?” She asked offhandedly. 

Imelda’s brows fly up as her cheeks grow pink. Natty snorts under her breath, eliciting a sharp, embarrassed look from the Quidditch captain. 

“Piss off,” Imelda grumbles out as she turns her head away.

Octavia smiles victoriously, relishing in the win. 

Natty glanced past the Slytherin and grinned. “Speaking of which,” the Gryffindor hummed. 

Octavia looked over her shoulder. Instantly, she felt the oxygen leave her lungs as she spotted Poppy walking with Adelaide Oakes, Lenora Everleigh, and Evangeline Bardsley. Lenora gestured wildly as she spoke passionately about something Octavia couldn’t make out, which caused Poppy to laugh and Adelaide to shake her head with an amused smile. The sight warmed the Slytherin’s heart. She was happy to see Poppy interacting with others. Knowing how the Hufflepuff had spent her first four years at Hogwarts alone, it was nice to see her enjoying the company of others. 

Octavia feels her heart thump in her chest as she admires Poppy’s bright and cheery smile. The glow from the lamp posts that line the platform seems to refract off the Hufflepuffs’ cream blouse and a sage green skirt with a lovely floral pattern. She holds a coat over her arm as she walks alongside her housemates. Octavia swallows thickly. That familiar warmth returns to her chest. The same warmth that began to bloom shortly after they returned the dragon’s egg to its mother. She felt it when they stood together in awe as the dragon took off with her egg. She felt it once Poppy stared back at her with a look of wonder on her face, honey-toned eyes filled with bright glee after she nearly touched the snout of a dragon. She felt it as their breaths mingled in the cold air due to how close they were. The memory of that day still gives her butterflies. 

Octavia found herself thinking about Poppy a lot since then. Her nights were filled with images of the Hufflepuff every time she closed her eyes. She spent hours tossing and turning in bed, trying to push the thought of Poppy out of her mind, but to no avail. She thought about the Hufflepuffs’ soft eyes, the freckles that dusted her face, the way her gentle, melodious voice would call out to her, and the tender way she cared for the creatures around her. 

It took Imelda spelling it out for her one day in their dorm after Octavia explained her recent confusing feelings to the Quidditch captain that she was developing a crush on Poppy Sweeting.  

Octavia had no idea how to deal with that information, so she naturally hid it away. She hid it well, as if it were second nature. 

She couldn’t risk jeopardizing the friendship she had with Poppy. The Slytherin feared how the Hufflepuff would react if her feelings weren’t reciprocated. She wouldn’t even know what to do next if her feelings were reciprocated. Octavia reasoned that someone as kind and understanding as Poppy wouldn’t turn her back on her, but a part of her feared losing Poppy more than anything. 

So, she kept silent. 

She was content with the friendship she shared with Poppy.

Lenora was the first to notice them. She waved enthusiastically, which drew the attention of her housemates, who also turned their attention to the group. 

Octavia felt her heart skip a beat as Poppy’s eyes landed on her.

“Oh, Merlin, help me.” 

The group quickly said their hellos and caught up with each other. Octavia listened as Adelaide told them about her visit to North America with her uncle. New York, specifically. Lenora spoke about one of her brothers who had been promoted in the Ministry. Evangeline and Adelaide took great interest in hearing about Natty’s trip to Matabeleland. 

Octavia turned her attention to Poppy, who smiled warmly at her. It seemed to be a smile reserved just for her. Before the Slytherin could say anything, Poppy surprised her with a tight hug.

“P-Poppy!” Octavia gasped out before a grin spread across her face. Her cheeks burned, and her skin tingled from the shorter girl’s touch. Despite her ever-increasing heart rate, she returned the gesture and wrapped her arms around the Hufflepuff. 

“Hi!” Poppy chirped. Her tone was light and melodic. Octavia felt her muscles lose all their previous tension. 

“Hi,” the Slytherin responded softly. It felt like all the noise of the platform melted away as they held each other. 

Octavia is hit with the familiar scent of fresh tea, cinnamon, lilac, and something so uniquely Poppy. “I missed you,” she finds herself whispering. 

Despite writing back and forth to one another the entire holiday, it couldn’t compare to being face to face like this. Poppy was the one Octavia wrote to the most, not that she would ever tell anyone that, especially not Imelda. 

Poppy’s grin only grew brighter as she pulled back slightly to be face to face with the taller girl. “I missed you, too, Via,” she replied softly. 

“Did you receive my last letter about Lightning?” Octavia inquired, referring to Highwing and Caligo’s child. 

Poppy’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes! Thank you for keeping me updated. Did he really fly into a tree?” the Hufflepuff asked with a giggle.

A snort escaped the Slytherin’s lips as she nodded. 

“How was your trip with your gran?” Octavia asked. “You two went to Greece, right?” she recalled Poppy mentioning shortly before the summer holiday that her gran planned to look into a theory she had about Chimeras. 

Poppy’s eyes lit up as they so often did once beasts were mentioned. “Oh yes! She wanted to look into-”

“Poppy, Octavia, we’re going to miss the carriage if we don’t head out soon,” Natty called out as their little group was already preparing to make their way to find a vacant carriage. 

“Oh, yes, coming!” Poppy replied. “I’ll tell you about it later, alright?” the Hufflepuff promised with a warm smile.

Octavia nodded. “Of course,” she hummed as the two joined the others. 

The raven-haired girl took a glance over her shoulder before they approached the Thestral-drawn carriage. She leaned towards Ominis, who stood beside her. 

“Ominis, have you heard from- well, you-know-who? ” she asked, referring to Sebastian. The Slytherin noted that she hadn’t seen the freckled boy exit the Hogwarts Express. 

A frown tugged at Ominis’s lips as he shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Anne hasn’t heard much from him either. Have you?” he wondered. 

Octavia swallowed thickly. After the events that took place in Feldcroft with Sebastian and his uncle, she found it hard to look the freckled boy in the eyes. She kept her distance. What he did, the Dark Magic, brought back too many painful memories. 

“No,” she murmured. 

Ominis sighed. “I’m sure we’ll see him soon enough. Let’s not focus on him right now,” he suggested. 

Octavia glanced towards their chatting friends. She couldn’t help but agree. They could talk about Sebastian later, right now, both wished to focus on the positives. 

“Octavia, have you ever thought about joining the Quidditch team?” Imelda asked the moment the raven-haired girl took her seat inside the carriage next to Poppy. 

In response, Octavia blinked at her with confusion. “Uhm… no? Not particularly,” she answered honestly. She had never given the sport much thought. 

“You should try out this year!” the Quidditch captain insisted. 

“We don’t know if Black will even be reinstating it, Imelda,” Natty chimed in.

Imelda simply waved her hand dismissively at the Gryffindor as the carriage started moving. “He will. He has to,” she declared. “And you, Octavia Grace, would be perfect for the team.”

“I would?” Octavia probed. Her brow quirked in mild intrigue. 

Imelda nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You have speed, insane reflexes, and strength. You have the makings of a Beater!” she pointed out. 

The dark-haired Slytherin let out a chuckle. “Imelda Reyes, are you complimenting me?” she asked, bemused. 

A few giggles escaped Adelaide, Poppy, and Natty’s lips.

“I am speaking the truth. I don’t flatter,” Imelda huffed. “Besides, we need a new Beater.”

“You think I would be a good Beater?” Octavia asked, perplexed. 

“You are quite talented,” Natty complimented. Poppy and Ominis nodded in agreement. 

“You should give it a try,” Poppy encouraged. 

Octavia sighed, defeated. “I’ll consider it,” she murmured.

“Do you want to join the team?” Ominis asked. Octavia was grateful that he was trying to consider her feelings. 

“Yes, she will join the team,” Imelda insisted once again.

“I’ll consider it,” Octavia repeated.

Imelda hummed, taking the win as the carriage drew nearer to the castle. 

________________________________________

Octavia stepped off the carriage, taking in a breath of fresh air. Despite staying in the castle, she felt strangely nervous returning in the carriage. She was the last to leave the carriage, right behind Poppy. Lenora, Evangeline, and Imelda seem to be unaware of the Thestrals’ presence. She knows for a fact that Natty can see them, and she notices Adelaide staring directly at them before she moves on to carry on a conversation with Imelda. Poppy could see them too. Octavia learned that fact last year during a tour of the swamp vivarium. The Slytherin’s heart ached as Poppy explained how she could see the Thestrals. With the environment she was raised in, it didn’t surprise Octavia that Poppy could see them. They had both witnessed atrocities in their youth. 

The Slytherin watched as Poppy slipped the Thestrals a few treats. Octavia finds herself smiling as the tender gesture unfolds. She admires how, despite the harsh environment the Hufflepuff was raised in, she didn’t let it change the kind and gentle person she was inside. Poppy’s tender nature truly inspired the Slytherin. 

Octavia was made aware of the fact that she was staring once Poppy glanced her way. Their eyes locked for a second or two before Octavia glanced away, pretending she was simply admiring the landscape. An embarrassed flush spreads through her cheeks to her ears as she tries to act like she wasn’t staring. 

Her attention is drawn away from her embarrassment as a pair of seventh-year Ravenclaws pass by. 

One of them, A tall, skinny boy with scraggly blonde hair, calls out to her. “No flashy entrance this year?” He laughs with his housemate as they continue towards the Great Hall. 

Octavia isn’t sure how to react to the comment. She brushes it off, assuming it would be the only one of its kind. 

She was very wrong. 

The entire walk to the Great Hall was filled with comments from acquaintances and strangers alike.

“I thought you would ride in on a dragon this year.”

“How boring! No dramatic entrance this time?” 

“What happened to the theatrics?” 

“Riding in on the carriage like the rest of us, I see.”

And so on. She feared that if she heard one more annoying comment like that, the white streaks in her hair would begin to spread. She didn’t find the comments very amusing, to put it plainly. Being reminded of gazing into the jaws of a dragon hundreds of feet in the air with the looming threat of death wasn’t exactly something she could find humor in. However, she offered the commentators no reply, no matter how tempting it was to reach for her wand and cast Oscausi.

As they approached the Great Hall, Octavia noticed Professor Weasley and Professor Black greeting students as they entered. Well, Professor Weasley was greeting the students, meanwhile, Professor Black would offer the occasional curt nod as students passed him. The Slytherin feels a chill run through her as the Headmaster’s eyes land on her. His sharp eyes narrow as she approaches. 

“Ah, good evening, Miss Grace,” Professor Black greets with a stern tone. 

Octavia offers him a polite nod, hoping he will simply let her pass, but of course, he does not. 

“A moment, Miss Grace,” he says. 

The Slytherin tries not to show her dismay as she glances at her friends. Poppy offers her a sympathetic smile. 

“See you at the table.” Ominis calls out. Octavia notices Imelda mouth good luck. 

Octavia mentally prepares to speak with the Headmaster. 

“Is something wrong, sir?” she asked, feigning interest in what he had to say. 

“I hope you had a pleasant trip,” Professor Black began with his chin held high. “I just wanted to make sure we will not have any… complications, like last year. No goblin or dragon drama, I hope,” Octavia hates how his words sound more like an accusation than concern. Her fists clench at her sides as she holds eye contact with the taller man. She spots Professor Weasley cringing out of the corner of her eye. 

“No, sir,” she replies, her shoulders tense. 

He nods. “Good, I can see you will be staying out of trouble this year. Now off to your table,” he orders, waving his hand to dismiss her. Octavia is more than happy to oblige. 

Professor Weasley sends her an apologetic smile as she makes her way into the Great Hall. 

Octavia sat next to Ominis at the end of the Slytherin table closest to the door. She sat facing the other three tables. She sent a quick hello to Nerida Roberts and Grace Pinch-Smeldey, who sat across from her with Imelda in between them. 

“What did Black have to say?” Ominis asked as the Headmaster made his way to the podium. 

Octavia scoffed. “He told me that he wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any ‘complications’ this year. He had this accusatory look in his eye as if I was to blame for everything last year.” 

Imelda let out a snort. “He is so full of it,” she commented.

Octavia nodded in agreement. Before she could say any more, the Sorting Ceremony began, drawing everyone’s attention. 

________________________________________

“Slytherin,” Grace guessed as the Sorting Hat was placed upon a new first-year’s head. The timid-looking first-year girl’s gaze nervously flicked from the Sorting Hat to the crowd. 

“No, no, she’s definitely a Hufflepuff,” Imelda argued. 

“What about Ravenclaw?” Nerida wondered, tilting her head in thought. 

“You belong in… Hufflepuff!” the Sorting Hat declared. Octavia watched as the young first-year was welcomed to the Hufflepuff table. 

“See?! I told you.” Imelda smirked triumphantly. Grace simply rolled her eyes in response.  

“Good job. If this whole Quidditch thing doesn’t work out, maybe you could become the new Divinations Professor,” Octavia teased. 

Imelda only scoffed and turned her attention to Professor Black as he returned to the podium after all the first-years were sorted. Octavia paid little mind to his speech. She found him extremely pretentious. Her emerald eyes scanned the Great Hall, spotting a few familiar faces from each table. Everett Clopton was whispering to Samantha Dale, who kept trying to shush him. Over at the Gryffindor table, Garreth Weasley was chatting with the new first-year Gryffindors. Octavia had a sneaking suspicion he would try to convince them to try some of his latest concoctions. He paused once Professor Black cleared his throat, hinting for him to stop talking. The Slytherin’s eyes inevitably drifted to the Hufflepuff table.  

Poppy and Arthur Plummly were speaking with a few of the new Hufflepuffs. Likely, they were comforting the nervous first-years with encouraging words and advice. Octavia’s head rests in her hand as she watches the tender display. That familiar warm feeling returns to her chest. Unfortunately, her attention is caught by Imelda leaning across the table and enthusiastically shaking her shoulder.

“Listen!” she whispers urgently with a grin as Professor Black brings up Quidditch. 

“And lastly, as you are all aware, last year’s Quidditch season was cancelled. Although it was necessary at the time, I’ve received numerous and persistent complaints from students and staff alike. It appears the absence of Quidditch last year was seen as unbeneficial to school spirit. So, after much careful consideration, I have decided that Quidditch will be reinstated this term-” the Headmaster could barely finish his sentence before the Great Hall erupted with cheer. 

Imelda pumps her fist in the air and claps with an enthusiastic cheer. Octavia spots Natty giving Garreth, Nellie Oggspire, and some of her nearby housemates high-fives. Madame Kogawa lets out a loud cheer before regaining her composure and returning to her usual stoic manner. Octavia never understood what was so special about Quidditch, but seeing how much everyone cherished the sport, she was growing curious about the appeal. 

Professor Black cleared his throat, trying to silence the crowd. Octavia could see the irritation on his face as no one listened. With one final exaggerated clearing of his throat, the Hall went quiet once again.

“However,” he began now that the attention was back on him. “This reinstatement comes with a condition. I will only allow Quidditch to continue as long as it does not interfere with the academic standards and discipline that are expected of you. All of you,” he clarified. 

Octavia could feel his judgmental gaze gravitate towards her.

“If I see that this sport is causing disruptions of any kind, I will not hesitate to cancel it again! So do not waste this opportunity,” the Headmaster warns. “Quidditch trials will be held over the next two weeks. Speak with Madame Kogawa if you are interested,” he instructs, gesturing towards the flying instructor, who nods at the students. “That will be all. Now, let the grand feast commence,” he concludes. 

Octavia happily digs into her meal of roast beef, fresh garden salad, and a large cup of pumpkin juice. She hadn’t realized just how hungry she was until the succulent taste of the roast beef hit her taste buds. 

The Slytherin glanced across the Great Hall, spotting Poppy enjoying her meal. The Hufflepuff brings her cup to her lips before her eyes glance towards a specific table. Their eyes connect, and Octavia feels her heart jump into her throat. She offers Poppy a shy smile, which the Hufflepuff easily returns. The raven-haired girl glanced back down at her meal.

She really had to get a grip. 

________________________________________

Once the grand feast ended, Octavia made her way towards the exit with her friends. She was hoping to hear the rest of Poppy’s recounting of her trip to Greece with her gran; however, the Hufflepuff couldn’t say much before Professor Weasley stopped Octavia. The Deputy Headmistress stood by the door to the Great Hall as students made their way to their common rooms. 

“Miss Grace, may I have a word?” Professor Weasley stopped the Slytherin in her tracks. 

“We’ll see you in the common room,” Ominis says as he walks off with Imelda, Grace, and Nerida. 

“See you tomorrow,” Poppy adds, offering the Slytherin a kind smile. 

A soft smile tugs at Octavia’s lips as she nods. She makes her way over to the Transfiguration Professor. “Yes, Professor?” she asks, standing before the red-headed woman. 

Professor Weasley smiles at her in a gentle, almost maternal way. “I am happy to see you reconnected with your friends. How are you feeling about your upcoming classes?” she wonders.

Octavia offers her a small smile. “I am looking forward to them, Professor,” she replies honestly. 

Professor Weasley nods. “I’m happy to hear that. Shall we walk and talk?” she asks, turning towards the door. 

The Slytherin nods, following the Transfiguration Professor. They walk in the direction of the Slytherin common room. The trip gave Octavia a sense of deja vu to her first night at Hogwarts after the Sorting Ceremony, where Professor Weasley had walked her to her new common room after she was sorted into Slytherin. 

“After everything that happened last year, I hope you had a restful summer,” Professor Weasley hopes. 

Octavia nods, recalling the events of her holiday. She hesitates to call it ‘restful’. She had a lot to think about over the summer. The Slytherin faced many challenges as she tried to recover from what she had gone through. Ending Victor Rookwood’s control over the Highlands, defeating Ranrok, and Professor Fig’s death… it all weighed heavily on the young witch.

“Yes, Professor. I did, thank you,” She replies. Technically, it was a half-truth since there were moments she enjoyed during her holiday. 

“I just wanted to let you know my door is always open if you need anything, Miss Grace,” the older woman offers thoughtfully. 

Octavia nods slowly. “Thank you, Professor. I will keep that in mind.”

“Oh, and don’t forget to focus on your studies. Your N.E.W.T exams will be here faster than you think,” Professor Weasley warns lightly. 

Octavia chuckles a little. “I know, I will keep that in mind,” she promises as they stop outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room. 

The Deputy Headmistress smiles warmly. “Good, have a good evening, Miss Grace. Have a good day tomorrow and rest well,” she reminds as Octavia steps towards the door.

“You too, Professor Weasley,” the Slytherin offers the older woman a small wave as she disappears behind the serpent-themed door. 

________________________________________

Octavia stayed back to have a private conversation with Ominis as their housemates called it a night. 

“I didn’t see him,” Octavia murmurs, shifting on the posh, green sofa in the common room. 

They knew they had to discuss this. To discuss everything that happened with Sebastian. 

Ominis’s brows pinched in consideration. He let out a hefty sigh. “I don’t know where he could be.”

Octavia frowned. 

“Should we… look for him? Maybe send word to Anne?” Octavia wondered, leaning back against the sofa.

“I’m not sure, and frankly, I’m not even sure if I want to. After everything that happened last year, I don’t want to get involved with all of that again. Do you understand what I mean?” He asked.

Octavia knew what he was referring to: Dark Magic. She stared at the floor. Both had an unpleasant history with Dark Magic. Octavia anxiously picked at her hands; thankfully, the thick material of her gloves kept her from clawing at her skin. 

“I do, but he’s still our friend, or at least… he was,” she murmured. Despite all that Sebastian had done, all he had put her through, she still wanted to help him. 

Now it was Ominis’s turn to frown. “I know,” he said sadly. “But I want to stay away from any trouble this time around. I suggest you do the same, Octavia,” he insisted.

The raven-haired girl glanced towards the fireplace. The soft ember glow reflected in her emerald eyes. “Yeah, so do I,” she confessed.

“You had enough on your plate last year. You deserve to rest, don’t you think?” Ominis suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. The gesture was comforting. 

“I guess,” she says with a thoughtful smile. “Okay, but still, send a letter to Anne. Just to make sure.”

Ominis nodded. “I will. Now, we should head to bed. We have classes tomorrow,” he reminded, standing from the sofa. 

“Yes, good night, Ominis.”

“Good night, Octavia.”

Octavia followed his lead, and the two Slytherins parted ways to head to their respective dorms. Ominis’s logic made sense, but she still felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. 

________________________________________

September 2nd, 1891

Poppy and Octavia crossed the Flying Lawn after Beasts class to walk back to Central Hall to get to Potions. That morning, Poppy had waited outside the Slytherin common room for Octavia. The Slytherin was pleasantly surprised to see the brunette. The Hufflepuff joined Octavia and Imelda on their walk to breakfast. Unfortunately, they had to part ways after breakfast due to their different first classes. 

“Gran even told me I could work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Beasts one day,” Poppy spoke enthusiastically. “Oh, did you know there is this new theory she’s been researching about Chimeras? They might have different behavioral patterns than we thought. That’s why we visited Greece over the holiday. It was all so intriguing!” she rambled, finally able to go into detail about her trip with her gran. 

Octavia tried her best to stay focused on the shorter girl’s words, but her attention was drawn to the looks and stares she received from other students as she passed by. The Slytherin couldn’t ignore the not-so-subtle whispers and glances sent her way. Groups of students openly gawked at her as if she were some sort of newfound zoo attraction. She had taken notice of that since breakfast. The Slytherin spotted how a pair of third-year boys whispered to a group of first-years, and in turn, the first-years gazed at her like she was a rare beast. It was no better in her classes as students of all years gawked at her. Sometimes, she had Imelda there to shoot them challenging looks, but most of the time, she just had to try to ignore their stares.

“Octavia? Octavia, are you listening?” Poppy’s concerned voice poked through her thoughts. 

“Oh, sorry, Poppy. I guess I just- got distracted,” Octavia’s voice trailed off slightly as she glanced around once again. “Why is everyone staring at me like that?” she whispered uneasily..

The Hufflepuff beside her mirrored her actions and spotted the gawking students staring at her as if she had grown a third head or she was the Minister of Magic himself. 

“Well, I suppose you are quite famous now. I mean, after everything that happened last year,” Poppy concluded. 

“Last year?” Octavia echoed curiously.

“You single-handedly took down Ranrok, Octavia! Did you think you wouldn’t be a big deal after saving the entire school?” the Hufflepuff asked, amused. 

A small ‘oh’ sound escaped the taller girl’s lips before her brows furrowed slightly. “Well, it wasn’t just me. I had… help,” she murmured. 

A sympathetic look crossed Poppy’s face as she realized who the Slytherin was referring to. She reached out to lay a comforting hand on Octavia’s shoulder. “Oh, Via, I didn’t mean to-” before she could finish, she was interrupted by Professor Black.

The Headmaster stood with a woman and a man holding a camera, along with a few other reporters. “Ah! There she is!” he called out with an unusually jovial tone. 

Before Octavia could properly respond, a camera flash temporarily blinded her. “Oh-!’ she gasped as her vision flashed with a bright light. 

“Don’t mind us, dear. This is just for a special piece we’re doing for the Daily Prophet on Hogwarts’ remarkable heroine!” the woman explained. A paper and quill levitated next to her as she offered the Slytherin a toothy smile. “My name’s Ramona. Ramona Skeeter.” She introduced, taking Octavia’s gloved hand in her own for a handshake. 

“Um… nice to meet you?” Octavia responded, perplexed. She glanced at Poppy, who looked equally confused. “I’m sorry, did you call me a heroine?” Romana didn’t answer her question.

“Tell me! How is it to be back at Hogwarts after that harrowing battle against Ranrok? Don’t leave out any details, darling,” the reporter insisted. 

“Well, um, I don’t-” Octavia stammered, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. 

“People still wonder how a young lady like you managed to defeat such a powerful foe. Did you have help? Or, did you heroically put a stop to Ranrok all by yourself? Well, go on, tell me, dear.” Ramona insisted, already invading the young witch’s personal bubble. 

Octavia’s heart lurched for a moment. Professor Fig flashed through her mind. 

“I-” she tried to answer, but Professor Black stepped in to dominate the conversation. 

“Of course, she had help. You see, it’s all about leadership. Under my exceptional guidance, Hogwarts forges glorious heroes and exceptionally strong personalities,” he declared proudly. Ramona Skeeter turned to him, quill at the ready. She seemed to be hanging onto his words.

Octavia gave Poppy a bewildered glance as they listened to him. It all sounded like absolute dragon dung. 

“It takes a great hand to guide our students towards their full potential, don’t you think so?” the Headmaster asked.

“Absolutely! So, what role do you think your leadership played in the defeat of Ranrok?” Ramona Skeeter asked. 

Professor Black seemed to grow emboldened at her question. “Excellent question, I believe my unwavering qualities as Headmaster instilled a sense of determination and resourcefulness in our students, encouraging them to rise to the occasion,” he explained, eating up the fact that the reporter was writing down his every word. 

Octavia couldn’t believe his audacity. He hadn’t lifted a finger to offer any assistance last year. “But, that isn’t how-” she couldn’t hold her tongue.

Professor Black cleared his throat, silencing her attempt to correct him. He turned towards the man with the camera. 

“Why don’t you capture a moment with me and our lovely Olivia here?” he suggested, moving to the Slytherin’s side and placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

“It’s Octavia, sir.” Octavia corrected through her tense jaw. 

“Yes, yes, Octavia,” he quickly corrected himself. 

“Big smiles now,” instructed the cameraman. With another blinding flash, the photo was taken. 

“Marvelous!” the Headmaster said. “There is so much we can discuss, Miss Skeeter. How about we continue this conversation in my office?” he suggested, walking off towards the main building with he reporter and her team in tow. 

Octavia stood there for a moment, dumbstruck as Poppy stepped closer to her side once again. 

“Did… Did that really just happen, or have I spent too much time around Fwoopers?” the Slytherin asked, baffled. 

“That was… certainly a unique display,” Poppy replied. “It looks like you’re going to be quite the center of attention this year,” the Hufflepuff guessed. 

Octavia didn’t seem pleased by that news. 

“I’m not sure I want to be…” she murmured honestly, casting her gaze downward at her boots. 

Poppy’s expression morphed into one of gentle compassion. Her hand rested on the Slytherin’s back, offering comfort. 

“You saved Hogwarts, Octavia. You stopped a goblin rebellion. Of course, people are going to be impressed by you,” the Hufflepuff reasoned. “Try and enjoy it,” she suggested. 

Octavia took a deep breath and offered the shorter girl a small smile as she tried to take her advice. “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” she replied.

Poppy smiled warmly in response.

“But if you’re not, do you think Dorran will let me join his herd? Running away into the Forbidden Forest doesn’t sound like a terrible escape plan.” Octavia joked, lightening the mood. 

The shorter girl let out a melodic laugh as she lightly tapped the Slytherin’s forearm. “I’m not so sure about that,” she replied with a grin. 

The two witches laughed, and almost as quickly as it came, the tension in Octavia’s bones eased. 

“Come on,” Poppy spoke up as their laughter subsided. “Let’s head to class before we’re late.” 

The Slytherin nodded in agreement as they carried on their walk to class. She continued to ignore the lingering stares as they passed through Central Hall. Everyone was bound to get bored with her story at some point. The rumor mill at Hogwarts moved fast, constantly churning out new stories and drama every day. Something more interesting than her would pop up at some point. She just had to play the waiting game.

Octavia hoped things would blow over soon. 

Chapter Text

September 3rd, 1891

Things did not blow over. 

Wherever Octavia went, the eyes of her peers followed her relentlessly. No matter how hard she tried to ignore their whispers, it all still managed to burrow underneath her skin. Her newfound reputation spread like wildfire to first-year students and those unaware of her. It was all incredibly overwhelming. The attention made her uncomfortable, even though not all of it was particularly negative. The Slytherin received a few words of gratitude and encouragement from passersby in the corridors about putting a stop to Ranrok. Some even referred to her as a hero or “The Heroine of Hogwarts” . She wasn’t very fond of the new title. 

Octavia felt unsure about how to react. She tried to enjoy it like Poppy had suggested, but it all just didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t want all the attention or the title. All she wanted was to experience some normalcy. The comfort she had to sacrifice her fifth year as more and more responsibilities fell on her shoulders. The pressure piled on her, but this year was going to be different. 

That morning, Octavia made an effort to leave the common room much earlier than she normally did. Her pace was brisk as she made her way down the quiet corridors. Very few were up this early, apart from a few Prefects, the occasional early riser, and, of course, the ghosts that roamed the halls. The Slytherin barely avoided the attention of Peeves as she rounded the corner. Instead, he had spooked an unlucky Ravenclaw Prefect and delighted in teasing her as she hurried to pick up the books she had dropped. Octavia waved her wand as she passed, levitating all the books into a neat stack. She nodded when the Ravenclaw offered a relieved ‘Thank you’. 

The Slytherin crossed the Flying Lawn as the early morning sun shone over the Highlands. The summer heat was starting to cool down, which Octavia was very thankful for. Octavia stopped outside the Beast's classroom. She glanced around the empty classroom before stepping out to where the pens were. A warmth bloomed in her chest as soon as she spotted a familiar figure standing by the Kneazle pen. 

Poppy leaned against the fence, lightly tossing a few treats to the group of Kneazles inside the pen. Octavia could hear the Hufflepuff offer a few words of praise to the fluffy creatures as she approached quietly. 

“Poppy,” the Slytherin greeted softly. 

The shorter girl jumped a little, unaware of the taller girl’s approach. “Oh! Via! Hi.” A bright grin spread across her lips. 

Octavia smiled softly in return, taking a glance inside the pen as the Kneazles turned their attention to her. She recognized Persephone as she stood on her hind legs, pressing her front paws against the fence as she gave Octavia a pleading look with her big, green eyes. The Slytherin easily gave in, gently petting her soft fur. Persephone’s soft purrs caused the raven-haired girl to smile more. 

“It seems you two have grown close,” Poppy observed, resting her chin in her hand as she watched the heart-warming display. Octavia had made sure that all the beasts kept in the pens were well taken care of while Poppy was away for the holiday. Octavia may have gone a bit out of her way to spoil Persephone with a few extra treats here and there, which caused the Kneazle to develop an attachment to her. 

The taller girl let out a soft chuckle. “She only likes me because I give her extra treats.” 

Poppy’s index and middle finger lightly tapped against the Slytherin’s forearm. “She is not shallow like that.” She pointed out. 

Octavia tried to ignore the way her skin tingled from Poppy’s touch. “Of course, forgive me, Persephone.” With a bow of her head, she apologized to the Kneazle, who merely bumped her head against the Slytherin's hand for more pets. 

A soft, melodious laugh bubbled up from the Hufflepuff’s lips as she covered her mouth with her hand. The sound was music to Octavia’s ears. The thumping of her heart in her chest became harder to ignore. 

“So,” the Slytherin began, hoping the conversation would help her heart relax. “Are you adjusting well to being back? Have you heard from your gran?” 

Poppy’s brown eyes lit up. “I’m doing well. I honestly missed the common room. It’s nice seeing Addy and Evie again, and of course, I missed being able to stop by the pens,” she said, running her hand along one of the Kneazles' fur. “I’m expecting a letter from Gran soon.” 

“That’s nice. I’m sure she-”

“She wished you her best, by the way,” Poppy said, suddenly. Her words took Octavia by surprise. 

“Me?” She found herself asking, staring at the Hufflepuff with wide eyes. Hearing that Poppy’s grandmother had mentioned her, much less cared about how she was doing, surprised her. 

Poppy nodded like it was obvious. “Of course, I told her a lot about you and the things we did together,” she explained. 

Octavia raised a brow. “Did you tell her everything? ” She asked with a small, yet amused smile. 

Poppy knew what she was referring to almost instantly, yet she feigned ignorance. “Whatever do you mean?” The smile that spread across her face was coy.

The taller girl rolled her eyes playfully. “Let’s see, the Horntail Hall incident, the dragon egg incident, almost getting killed by Centaurs-” she counted on her fingers as she listed off the events. She would’ve continued, but Poppy waved her hand. 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Poppy snorted under her breath. “When you put it like that, I haven’t told her everything, but most of it.” She admitted, staring back up at the Slytherin through thick eyelashes. 

Octavia tapped her index finger against the fence a bit, trying to find an outlet for her nervous energy. “So, what exactly did you tell her about me?” She asked curiously. 

“All good things, I promise. She was happy to hear that I was making- well, human friends. I told her about how you helped protect the Snidgets and deal with the poachers. She said you sounded quite remarkable.” Remarkable. The word floated off Poppy’s tongue with such sincerity. Octavia swallowed thickly, trying to quell the sudden dryness of her throat. 

“I only did what was right. But, tell her I said thank you.” She smiled, picturing the two discussing the events of Poppy’s fifth year. The Hufflepuff no doubt smiled that bright, perfect smile as she shared the details with her grandmother. She wondered how Poppy’s grandmother pictured her based on the information her granddaughter had shared about the Slytherin. Did she envision her as some bold, strapping heroine? Octavia wondered how the elder Sweeting would think of her if she saw her pale, tired appearance. She didn’t consider herself the poster child of a hero. In her eyes, she was just someone who did the right thing. 

“I’m glad you came to Hogwarts. It’s already been my best year!”

Poppy nodded as a comfortable silence fell upon the two witches. They watched the Kneazles mosey around as the treats settled in their stomachs. Octavia took the occasional glance at the shorter girl. The morning sun brought out the freckles that splattered across her face. The contented smile that spread across the lips caused a warmth to spread through the Slytherin’s chest once again. Octavia couldn’t help but think how pretty the Hufflepuff looked. Her cheeks tingled with an unexpected flush. This crush would be the death of her. 

Before she could ponder her feelings further, Poppy’s honey-brown eyes glanced up to meet hers. Her expression was light but held a hint of curiosity, most likely a little confused about why the Slytherin was staring at her. Octavia felt a stab of guilt prick her heart as she averted her gaze. She felt no better than one of those third-year boys who gawked at any pretty girl they saw shamelessly. Instead of facing the shorter girl again, she reached into her pocket, retrieving her pocket watch. As she read the numbers and where the clock's hands pointed, she realized breakfast would begin soon. 

“Perhaps we should head back. Breakfast is going to start soon.” The taller girl stated, her right hand fidgeting with the pocket watch. 

Poppy nodded, bending down to offer one last pat to Persephone. “Good idea,” she replied. 

The two witches walked down the trail back towards the Flying Lawn. Octavia’s cheeks still felt uncomfortably warm. She scoffed internally. She really had to get a grip. The two made small talk as they made their way to the Great Hall. Pushing open the large doors, the chatter of the Great Hall felt louder than usual. Poppy turned to her with a small, soft smile. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?” She said, taking a step towards the Hufflepuff table. 

Octavia offered her a small smile in return. She never seemed to be able to not smile at Poppy. “Of course.” With a small wave, she turned, making her way over to the Slytherin table. 

Octavia noticed Imelda staring right at her. A knowing smirk was plastered on the Quidditch captain’s face. Octavia sent her housemate a scowl as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She braced for the inevitable teasing that was bound to come her way. 

Before she could close the distance, her eyes caught a glimpse of a seemingly abandoned copy of the Daily Prophet. Octavia paused, reading the headline on the front page. Her entire body went stiff as her brain processed the words. Like a flash, she snatched up the paper, scanning over the front page with wide eyes. 

Octavia stormed over to the Slytherin table. “This is a joke! ” Octavia huffed as she threw down her copy of the Daily Prophet. 

Imelda looked up from her breakfast, intrigued as Octavia took her seat at the Slytherin table across from her and next to Ominis. “Well, good morning to you, too.” 

“What is it?” Ominis asked, his brow quirked with curiosity. 

Octavia grumbled. “I can’t believe I have to read this tripe,” she groaned as she picked up the newspaper. 

Imelda and Ominis listened closely as she found her place and began to read the contents of the Daily Prophet’s front page. 

“As the new school year begins, we take a moment to reflect on the remarkable tale of Octavia Grace, Hogwarts’ young prodigy who has recently unveiled the story behind her astonishing victory against Ranrok, the fearsome leader of the Goblin Rebellion. In her own words, Miss Grace attributed her victory to the unyielding mentorship of none other than Hogwarts’ brilliant headmaster, Professor Phineas Nigellus Black. Under his extraordinary guidance, she was able to find the strength to put an end to Ranrok’s rebellion.” 

Octavia tossed the paper in front of her, letting it thud on the table. “I never said any of that!”

Imelda picked up the copy and skimmed it over. A snort escaped her lips as she saw the awkward photo of Professor Black and Octavia that was plastered on the front page. 

“Is it that bad?” Ominis asked, a slight, amused smile tugging at his lips as he sipped his tea. 

Octavia combed her fingers through her hair and let out a hefty sigh. “Yes. This is just what I needed,” she mumbled sarcastically. She feared this article would only increase the amount of attention thrown her way. 

“Why is it such a bad thing? Most people would do anything for this kind of attention,” Imelda asked, with genuine curiosity.

Octavia shook her head slowly as she poured herself some tea to soothe her nerves. “This kind of attention is the last thing I want. People already stare at me like I’m some kind of zoo attraction or a terrifying beast.”

The Slytherin could feel eyes on her as some of her housemates with copies of the Daily Prophet glanced her way. A fourth-year girl near the end of the table pointed her way and murmured something to her group of friends as they stared at her wide-eyed. Octavia looked their way, causing them almost to break their necks to avoid her gaze. She let out an exhausted groan before resting her head in her hands. 

Imelda glanced towards the group of girls as she spread jam across her slice of toast to go with her bowl of porridge. “Well, I guess you are quite the spectacle now.” 

“Lucky me,” Octavia replied with a deadpan tone. 

“Give it time. Eventually, people will move on. That’s how it goes,” Ominis encouraged, placing a reassuring hand on the raven-haired girl's shoulder. 

Octavia glanced at him before she sighed. “I hope so.” 

“Well, now that we’ve all had enough of that, why don’t you tell us where you ran off to this morning?” Imelda inquired with a small smirk. “I see you arrived with Poppy. What did the two of you get up to, hm?” 

Octavia’s brows furrowed as her shoulders squared defensively. A heat spread throughout her face and neck as she stared down at her plate. “We were just talking by the pens.” She replied as nonchalantly as possible, trying not to let Imelda get under her skin. 

“Ah,” Imelda hummed, dipping her spoon back into her bowl of porridge. “Talking, so that’s what we’re calling it now.” 

Octavia scowled at the Quidditch captain across from her as a small snort emanated from Ominis’s lips. “Piss off, Imelda.” She shot back as her cheeks stung with heat. 

Imelda snorted, clearly taking great pleasure in making her friend squirm. “Aw, don’t get all defensive about your precious Poppy. ” She teased, adding in a terrible mock attempt at Octavia’s north London accent at the end. 

“Come on, leave her alone, Imelda.” Ominis lightly urged, like an exhausted parent attempting to get his two unruly children to stop bothering one another. 

The Imelda Octavia knew the year prior would’ve kept on with the teasing, but the Imelda she knew now, after months of working to get past the Quidditch captain’s aloof outer shell, simply let the matter rest. Although she did still enjoy getting under her friend’s skin when it came to this crush she harboured. 

Octavia picked at her breakfast, a simple serving of poached eggs, and absentmindedly turned her head to take a glance over her shoulder. Her eyes landed on the Hufflepuff table across the Great Hall. She studied the faces that were sitting at the table. She spotted Poppy seated near the center of the Hufflepuff table, her back to the fireplace. She seemed engrossed in a conversation with Adelaide Oakes. The blonde seemed to be rambling on about a topic she was passionate about, as Poppy appeared to chime in ever now and again. 

Octavia felt a small smile ease onto her lips. The bright smile on Poppy’s face made her heart buzz in her chest with fondness. 

Adelaide glanced her way, spotting the Slytherin staring. The Hufflepuff said something to her housemate, causing Poppy to turn her head in the direction of the Slytherin table. Octavia’s heart nearly jumped into her throat as her eyes locked with Poppy. Trying to save herself from the embarrassment of being caught staring, she shyly waved. Poppy smiled back, offering her friend a wave in return. 

Octavia quickly turned to face forward. Imelda was staring at her with a large grin. 

Octavia huffed. “Don’t.”

____________________________________________

The library was unusually empty. It seemed not everyone was as keen to abandon the holiday mindset. The only sound that emanated from Octavia’s quiet corner between the shelves on the library’s upper level was her quill diligently gliding across her paper. Her essay on the history of the Felix Felicis potion wouldn’t write itself after all. She glanced towards her Potions textbook propped up against a stack of many, many other books. Octavia had come to expect that a professor like Professor Sharp would assign an essay so early in the school year, but it didn’t make doing the work any easier. 

It felt a little strange to her. In a way, she was almost a normal student. Instead of worrying about the fate of the world, poacher and dark wizard activities, a Goblin rebellion, and the Keepers’ trials, she could simply focus on her school work. Now, the most important things on her mind were classes, catching up with friends, and studying like the average student. It was something she had mostly missed out on during her fifth year. However, it felt nice. The change in pace was appreciated, as for once it felt like she could take a breath. It felt simple in comparison to the challenges she had faced. 

Octavia perked up once she heard footsteps approaching. The footsteps sounded light, but they still caused the old floorboards beneath them to creak. Emerald eyes shifted to the end of the shelves. A surprised little ‘oh’ escaped her lips once she spotted Poppy approaching her. A smile immediately made its way onto the Slytherin’s lips. 

“Trying to sneak up on me?” Octavia quipped, setting down her quill as Poppy closed the distance. 

A light chuckle escaped the Hufflepuff’s lips. “Of course not. Even if I wanted to, you have some of the sharpest senses I’ve ever seen.”

That was true to a certain degree. Poppy had never met many people her age with such potent senses. A small part of her wondered if the taller girl’s quick reaction time, exceptional hearing, and keen eye were abilities she was born with or had honed over time. Octavia wasn’t that open about her past, but Poppy was arguably the one person who knew the most. It was something Octavia held close to her heart, out of view from prying eyes. The scars on her skin painted a picture for some. It was common knowledge that the scar on the Slytherin’s right cheek was from the dragon attack during her ride to Hogwarts. However, the scars that lay etched vertically across her left eye had an unknown source. Octavia had them long before coming to Hogwarts, suggesting an event in her past had caused them. 

Poppy remembers the knot in her stomach that formed near the end of their fifth year when Octavia told her about her earliest memories growing up in the Grace family manor. A childhood spent isolated and afraid. It was something they had in common. The Grace family name was well-known among the pure-blooded families. However, they still tried to keep themselves under the radar, their fanatical pureblood views hidden in the shadows. 

“I believe that’s an exaggeration, but I digress,” Octavia joked before a question crossed her mind. “Are you here to study too?” she asked, noting that Poppy’s arms were rather vacant of any books or study material. 

“Ah-” the Hufflepuff acknowledged. Her eyes glanced towards the floor as her smile turned sheepish. “No, actually, I was looking for you. Natty said you were here, so-” she trailed off. Octavia recognized Poppy’s nervous habits, such as her slight rambling, avoidance of eye contact, and the shift in pitch as her voice took on a higher pitch compared to her normal tone. 

I was looking for you.

A statement so simple, and yet, it held so much meaning. Octavia felt her heart thumping in her chest. Her mouth suddenly felt dry as her cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink. 

“You were looking for me?” The Slytherin asked softly, turning in her chair, and facing her body towards the shorter girl. 

Poppy nodded, almost too quickly. Her hands were clasped behind her back, no doubt fidgeting ever so slightly. “Yes! I was wondering if you'd like to grab a butterbeer tomorrow? Maybe go for a walk afterward?” She asked, lifting her eyes to meet the Slytherin’s gaze. “If you're free, of course.” The Hufflepuff added. 

Octavia blinked. She was a little surprised by the question, but it certainly was a welcome one. She smiled, relieved she could give the Hufflepuff a yes. She finally had something she lacked the previous year. Time. Her schedule was clear, although a part of the Slytherin knew that she would still make time for Poppy regardless. 

“That sounds lovely, Poppy. I’d be delighted to.” Her answer was accompanied by a bright smile, a smile most had never seen, but Poppy always seemed to coax it out of her. 

A genuine grin pulled at the shorter girl’s lips as Octavia accepted her invitation. “Great! It’s a date!” Poppy chirped, sounding absolutely pleased. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” she said, gesturing towards the Slytherins’ stack of books. “See you later, Via!” 

Octavia watched Poppy turn and walk away with a pep in her step. She disappeared past the shelves, her footsteps growing more and more distant. 

The Slytherin sat there, bewildered. She stared wide-eyed at the end of the shelves where Poppy had disappeared behind, her lips slightly parted, and her cheeks slowly flushing. Her face felt incredibly hot as she processed Poppy’s words.

Did she say… a date? 

____________________________________________

The Slytherin girls' dorm stood still as most had already headed off to bed. However, light peeked out from underneath one of the sixth-year dorm rooms. Octavia sat up on her bed, fiddling with a loose thread on her pistachio-colored nightgown. The room was illuminated by a single candle that burned on Imelda’s nightstand as she read her copy of the Daily Prophet. Violet and Nerida were already turning in for the night. 

“What if I misunderstood, and she doesn’t actually mean a date date?” Octavia whispered, just loud enough so Imelda could hear, to not disturb their two sleeping dormmates. 

She could hear Imelda scoff under her breath as she turned her copy over. “She asked you on a date, Octavia. I don’t understand how you can misinterpret that.” 

Octavia’s brows pinched together in thought as she lay down, resting her head against the soft pillow. “But, what if she just said that without considering the implication? What if I mix everything up and make her- uncomfortable…” she murmured. The last thing she wanted was to scare Poppy off. 

She received no response from the Quidditch captain. A few beats of silence passed by before her friend's voice spoke through the dim light. “I see the way you and Sweeting become puddles around each other. I see the way you brighten up around her, and I doubt she doesn’t notice it.” Imelda points out. Sometimes Octavia can forget how good Imelda is at reading people. “You’ll be fine.”

“But… what if I mess things up?” Octavia asked, her voice hesitant and worried. 

Her friend sighed, folding the newspaper and setting it aside. “The only way you’ll mess this up is by staying in that head of yours. You think too much, Octavia. Sometimes, you just have to live in the moment.” The advice was sincere. The Quidditch captain’s usual snark was placed on the back burner as she quelled her friend’s worries. 

The raven-haired witch stared up at her bed’s canopy. She considered Imelda’s words. She did have a bad habit of overthinking. With everything she had been through, it was hard not to expect the worst from possible scenarios that might play out. She took a deep breath, hoping it would ease her nerves. 

“I’m trying, but it’s hard sometimes.” She whispered. Her finger traced over one of the few small scars scattered across her hand. Late at night was one of the few circumstances where she didn’t wear her signature gloves to hide the scratches etched into her skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Imelda nod her head in understanding.

“I know, but you’ve been offered a chance. You can’t squander it, Via.” Octavia knew Imelda was right. Although it all still felt like a dream. Poppy really wanted to go on a date with her. 

“Thank you, Imelda,” Octavia said appreciatively.

Imelda smiled, but it was barely noticeable thanks to the dim light. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you the proper dating advice. I know you’ll be needing it,” she teased. 

“I can too if you’d like, but can you talk about it in the morning? It’s late!” Violet’s voice suddenly spoke up from the darker side of the room. Shortly after, Nerida giggled, giving away that the two weren’t as asleep as Octavia and Imelda originally thought. 

Octavia felt her face grow warm as she realized they had heard everything. Imelda, meanwhile, let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, shut it, McDowell!” This caused Violet and Nerida to burst out laughing. 

Imelda turned to Octavia once more as she reached for the candle. “But yeah, we’ll talk about it in the morning. Trust me, by tomorrow you’ll have Poppy swooning.” She said with a wink. 

Octavia felt like her tongue was tied. She simply nodded, not trusting what would come out of her mouth. The room was cast into darkness as the Quidditch captain blew out the candle. 

Staring into the darkness, Octavia waited for her eyes to adjust. She knew all too well that sleep would not come easily that night as her thoughts were filled with thoughts of a particular Hufflepuff. 

She prayed this wasn’t a dream. 

____________________________________________

September 4th, 1891

The day of their scheduled meeting felt like an eternity for the young Slytherin. Time seemed to be against her as the minutes felt like they were ticking by ten times slower. The way she would grow incredibly flustered around Poppy didn’t help much either. Perhaps, Imelda was on to something about the whole ‘becoming a puddle’ thing. Octavia couldn’t help but sputter over her words every time she was around the Hufflepuff after being asked on a date. She had never been asked on a date before; then again, she never hoped to be asked on one before meeting Poppy. A part of the Slytherin still wondered if she had read Poppy’s invitation wrong. Should she ask? What if she made a fool of herself? What if Poppy never wanted to speak to her again? Thoughts like these consumed Octavia the entire day. It was excruciating. 

As the meet-up time rolled around, Octavia’s anxieties were at an all-time high. Her heart pounded with anticipation as her final class of the day drew to a close. She practically ran out of the Greenhouse, hoping Professor Garlick wouldn’t take offense, and made a mad dash back to her dorm. 

Imelda was already lounging in a large, plump ottoman when Octavia stormed into their shared dorm, making a beeline for her wardrobe. The Slytherin tore through her clothes, examining a few before laying them out on her bed. Her friend watched her closely before closing the book in her hand and turning her full attention to the frenzied witch. Octavia examined each article of clothing with the same level of care an auror would show while carrying out an investigation. 

“I think you’re putting too much thought into this, Via…” Imelda commented as she stood up and moved over to sit on her friend’s bed. In response, Octavia paused her anxious pacing to turn to the Quidditch captain with wide, nervous eyes. 

“Of course I am nervous, Imelda! This is our first date. It’s very, very important.” She insisted her cheeks were taking on a pink hue as she said ‘date’ out loud. A part of her still couldn’t believe it. Imelda shook her head incredulously. Octavia carefully analyzed her potential outfits, her brows pinched in consideration as she weighed the pros and cons of each clothing item. 

The taller girl set some of her clothing back inside her wardrobe, now left with an outfit she liked. She was careful not to wrinkle the fabric as she ran her hand along the material, checking for imperfections. 

“Have you decided yet?” Imelda asked, her head propped up in her hand as she lay on her stomach. 

Octavia tapped her index finger against her chin in consideration. “I don’t know. What do you think?” She probed, gesturing towards the clothes. Her green eyes glanced between the clothes and her friend. 

Imelda’s dark eyes studied Octavia’s choice of outfit. “Well, knowing Sweeting, she’s not looking for anything flashy. I would go with this shirt, paired with these trousers, and wear your brogues, the black ones, not the brown ones.” She instructed, pointing towards each recommendation. 

Octavia blinked at her, a little surprised. “I didn’t realize you were so well-informed about fashion.”

“Are you insinuating I dress poorly?” The Quidditch captain asked with a raise of her brow. 

“No, no, I just thought something like this would be more Violet or Grace’s field of expertise. You dress nicely.” Octavia defended herself with a small chuckle. 

Imelda smiled, letting her friend know she took no offence and was merely teasing. 

“Lose the coat. It’s getting warmer, you’ll end up sweating.” Imelda instructed, sitting up and rising to her feet, taking the coat Octavia had arrived to Hogwarts in and setting it back in the wardrobe. 

The taller girl stared at the outfit, considering her fellow Slytherin’s words, before she nodded. Grabbing the clothing in her arms, she turned to make her way towards the restrooms to change. “Thank you, Imelda!” she called as she hurried out of the room. 

Imelda chuckled and shook her head before yelling loud enough for Octavia to hear.

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry up. It’s almost time!” she warned, glancing towards the clock mounted on the wall. 

Octavia returned, smoothing her white button-up and running her palms down her dark brown trousers that stopped just above her ankle. The Slytherin tugged at the black string tie bow that lay under the collar of her shirt. 

“How do I look?” She asked anxiously. 

Imelda studied her appearance, her chin resting between her thumb and forefinger. “You know how to pull off an outfit, Via. You look great. I’m sure Poppy will love it.” The Quidditch captain teased as a smirk tugged at her lips, putting extra emphasis on ‘love’. 

Octavia’s cheeks flushed slightly as her heart punched the inside of her ribs. “ Imeldaaa .” She huffed out, embarrassed. 

Imelda let out a hearty laugh. “I’m serious, Poppy will be thrilled. You know she likes you a lot. It doesn’t matter what you wear.” Imelda encouraged. Her tone was sincere as she tried to give her friend the push she needed. 

Her friend sighed. “I know, I’m just- nervous,” Octavia murmured as she stared at herself in the mirror, fixing up her shoulder-length black hair. 

The Quidditch captain patted her on the back. “I know, just be yourself and blah blah blah, all that stuff.” A chuckle left her lips.

Octavia nodded appreciatively before turning to face the shorter Slytherin. “Thanks, that helps, I think.” She joked, taking a glance at the clock. “I need to be going.” She says, moving towards the door. 

Imelda gave her a little whoop before shouting. “Good luck, Grace!” She called out, which made Octavia blush from embarrassment as she passed by a confused Nerida and Violet. 

____________________________________________

Octavia walked the dimly lit streets of Hogsmeade as the evening sun began to set beyond the hills. The cool air that blew through her hair seemed to cement the end of the summer, and that the beginning of fall was approaching. Luckily, it was still warm enough to go without a coat like Imelda had suggested. 

She stood outside the large, double doors of the Three Broomsticks. Anxiety crept through her as she tried to focus on her breathing to calm her nerves. She went through the date plan one more time in her head as her hand rested on the door handle. 

“Grab a butterbeer, go for a stroll, walk her back to her common room, simple.” 

With a final deep breath, she pulled open the heavy oak door and stepped inside. The young witch was immediately hit with the smell of fresh butterbeer, the woody scent of the inn, and the patrons themselves. A thick wall of noise hit her the moment she opened the door and stepped inside. The Three Broomsticks was rather busy for a Thursday afternoon. Octavia knew better than to just stand by the door, so she pushed forward into the crowd. Maneuvering her way through groups of patrons who were unable to find seats and mingling locals. It was no easy feat, as she bumped and squeezed through. 

The Slytherin glanced over towards Sirona Ryan, who seemed quite busy taking orders and serving drinks. The barkeep glanced up, her eyes landing on Octavia, who offered her a polite nod. Sirona gave her a quick smile in return before turning her attention to a group of Hogwarts students who were vaguely familiar to Octavia, possibly having seen them in the halls a few times. 

Octavia made her way towards the fireplace in the back. She glanced from table to table in the seating area before her eyes landed on who she was hoping to see. 

Poppy sat at a small, circular table nestled in a corner to her right, her head turned as she gazed into the warm glow of the fire. She held a pint of butterbeer in front of her on the table. Her finger slowly traced circles along the side of the tankard. She looked lost in thought as the firelight reflected off her honey-brown eyes. 

Octavia couldn’t move. She was stunned in place just by how beautiful the Hufflepuff looked. Poppy’s short brunette hair had two small braids running along the back of her head and met in the middle. Octavia had never seen Poppy style her hair that way. She wore a light, cream-colored blouse with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing the delicate splattering of freckles along her arms. She wore a black skirt with a subtle tartan pattern. Her boots tapped against the ground as she waited. 

Octavia’s heart threatened to burst from her chest from how fast it was beating. It felt like her heart was punching the inside of her rib cage. Her cheeks buzzed with warmth as she could feel how flushed they were becoming. The nerves she tried to suppress were now starting to bubble up to the surface. She felt silly for reacting this way. It was just Poppy, she attempted to remind herself, but the truth was that she felt this way because it was Poppy. Poppy had asked her on a date. Things were certainly different now. 

The Hufflepuff made her feel things she had never felt before. These feelings were new, scary, and exciting all at once; it threatened to become overwhelming. It was all completely uncharted territory, and yet, she wanted to see what it had in store, despite how scary it felt at times. 

“Excuse me, lass.” 

Octavia blinked. She glanced over her shoulder as an older gentleman shimmied past her to return to his table, where his friends waited. 

She realized, with terrible embarrassment, that she had been standing there like a fool while other patrons tried to make their way past her. 

“Merlin, help me.” She thought, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment and inhaling to regain her composure as the cringe washed over her. 

Finally, she was able to move her legs, ignoring how they felt like jelly. Walking over to the table where Poppy waited patiently, she smiled, attempting to keep up a calm image. 

“Hi,” She greeted softly, catching the Hufflepuff’s attention. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” The Slytherin apologized as she took a seat across from the Hufflepuff. Her voice rose as she tried to be heard over the collective noise of the pub. 

Poppy’s eyes lit up once she saw her. “Oh no, don’t worry! I only arrived a few moments ago.” She reassured, smiling at the girl across from her. Her smile was bright, but an air of nervousness lay behind it. 

Octavia returned her smile easily, as she tried to hide the jittery feeling she still felt in her gut. 

“There are a lot of people here.” Poppy pointed out, her eyes glancing around the pub at the various customers in the Three Broomsticks that evening. 

Octavia nodded as her hands rested neatly in her lap. The table hid how her finger tapped anxiously against her knee. “There are, I’ve only seen it this packed on weekends. I am sure Sirona is having fun.” She joked. The tension she felt melted off her shoulders slightly when Poppy laughed softly. Hearing the Hufflepuff laugh freely was something she loved.

“I’m sure she is, I am certain she’s ready to throw everyone out so she can have some peace,” Poppy replied as she traced the rim of her tankard with her finger. “You’ve seen it packed before? I didn’t know you were a regular.” Poppy tilted her head slightly. 

Octavia shook her head a little. “I’m not a regular, I started working for Sirona actually. So, I suppose I’m not a regular in a typical sense.” She explained. 

Poppy looked surprised to hear this. “You work here?” 

“Yes, I started shortly after the holiday began. I needed something to keep me busy, I suppose. Sirona was happy to offer me a job.” Octavia smiled. The older witch had treated her with kindness since their first meeting. She was delighted to give the Slytherin work when she asked for it near the end of July. 

Poppy let out a small hum. “I never pictured you behind a bar, but maybe I’ll drop by sometime.” Her words were innocent enough, but the idea of Poppy dropping by to watch her work made Octavia’s stomach flip. 

The Slytherin glanced down at Poppy’s butterbeer, noticing the contents of the tankard were reaching their end. She also realized she had neglected to get a drink for herself, which made her feel like a fool. Taking the opportunity to change the subject, Octavia cleared her throat. 

“Would you- would you like another drink?” she asked, gesturing towards the Hufflepuffs’ near-empty cup. 

Poppy’s eyes glanced down at her tankard. “Oh, yes, that would be lovely.” She smiled appreciatively. 

Octavia smiled back before standing up from her seat. “Wish me luck.” She joked, nodding her head towards the horde of customers gathered around the bar. She was very relieved that Sirona agreed to give her the day off. 

Poppy chuckled. “Good luck, and please, do hurry back.” She lightly urged, as she looked up at the taller girl through long eyelashes. 

Octavia felt her cheeks flush, but she nodded. She tried not to let on how the Hufflepuffs’ gaze made her stomach roll like she had taken a sudden dive on her broom in a race against Imelda. 

“No promises.” She replied with an easy smile as she turned and began making her way towards the bar. 

Octavia squeezed past the horde of witches and wizards crowding the bar. She stood squeezed between a burly farmer to her right and a shorter, middle-aged witch with bright red hair to her left. The Slytherin spots Sirona serving two witches at the end of the bar. Patiently, she waits for her turn, taking a glance over her shoulder at the Hufflepuff waiting back at their table for her. To her surprise, Poppy was staring right back at her. A spike of panic shot through her. It felt like her heart kicked her square in the stomach, but she pushed through it. Octavia smiled and gestured subtly to the other patrons around her in a ‘what can you do’ way. Poppy smiles and offers her a good-natured shrug. Octavia turns back to the bar, feeling the weight of the shorter girl's stare linger, causing the hair on the back of her neck to tingle. 

“Ah, hello, my young friend.” Sirona’s cheery yet short-winded voice caught the Slytherin’s attention. 

Octavia glanced up to meet the barkeep's eyes. Sirona looked like her usual warm self, apart from the few loose strands of hair in her face and the few beads of sweat gathering above her brow. 

“Hello, Sirona. Things seem quite busy tonight.” Octavia observed as Sirona rested her hands on the bar and nodded.

“Oh, trust me, they are. But it’s not anything I can’t handle. I hope you are enjoying the day off?” Sirona smiled, taking a glance past the girl in front of her towards a very familiar direction. 

Octavia followed the older witch’s gaze, landing on the table where Poppy sat. Her cheeks flushed as her head whipped back around to face Sirona. “Uhm- yes, I am, Sirona. Can- can I just get two butterbeers please?” she stammered out. She knew Sirona could see right through her. 

Sirona nodded, letting the matter rest. “Of course, dear.” She replied, swishing her wand, causing butterbeer to pour into two mugs. 

Octavia thought over the older witch’s comment. Was she really that obvious about her feelings towards Poppy? 

The clinking of the mugs hitting the counter brought her back to her senses. 

“There you are, my friend.” Sirona smiled as Octavia grabbed the tankards, careful not to spill anything. 

“Thank you, Sirona. I’ll see you later.” Octavia gave her a nod as she returned to her table with Poppy. 

Setting down the drinks on the table, Octavia sat back down with a relieved sigh. It felt nice sitting down after pushing through the crowd of customers.

“Thanks for this,” Poppy said, pulling her mug closer to her with a thankful smile. “I’ll get the next round.” 

Octavia chuckled, taking a sip of the refreshing beverage. “Of course, and you don’t have to that-” she tried to say, but Poppy shook her head.

“No, no, I insist,” Poppy said adamantly. The smile on her face was genuine as her fingers grasped the tankard in her hands.

Octavia couldn’t argue with that. She nodded with a yielding sigh as a smile curled on her lips. “Fine, fine, you win.” She chuckled. 

Poppy grinned, raising her mug. “Cheers then.”

Octavia smiled, returning the gesture. “Cheers.”

____________________________________________

The two witches walked down the dark streets of Hogsmeade. The streets were empty and quiet, except for the occasional hoot of an owl or the meow of an alley cat. 

Octavia’s skin buzzed slightly as the effects of the butterbeer took hold of her. She was nowhere near what one may call drunk, but her head felt light enough to let her know she wasn’t completely sober. At least being tipsy helped her not to freeze up when Poppy’s hand would occasionally brush against her own as they walked past the main entrance to the village. 

“The stars are quite beautiful tonight,” Poppy commented, as she tilted her head back slightly to face the clear night sky above. 

Octavia didn’t follow her gaze immediately, instead opting to gaze at the Hufflepuff beside her. A small, fond smile tugged at her lips.

“Yes, beautiful.” She whispered in response.

The shorter girl tilted her head, allowing her eyes to lock with Octavia’s. The Slytherin blinked, her eyes lingered for a moment longer before they snapped to gaze down at the ground. 

“We should admire them more clearly.” Poppy grinned. Octavia didn’t know if she had noticed that Octavia was gawking or not, and if she had, she seemed to have decided not to comment on it. 

“Admire them more closely?” The Slytherin echoed. “What does that mean exactly?” she asked, cocking a curious brow. 

Poppy’s grin only grew. Her eyes twinkled with excitement as she grabbed onto her date’s gloved hand. The Hufflepuff led Octavia off the path back to Hogwarts, instead dragging the Slytherin through a grassy field. 

“Wha- Poppy, where are you taking me?” Octavia asked through bewildered chuckles. Despite her confusion, she allowed the shorter girl to guide her. She always found it easy to place her trust in Poppy. 

The Hufflepuff glanced at her over her shoulder with a smile that made Octavia feel incredibly warm. 

“Shh, just trust me! It’s a surprise.” She hummed sweetly.

Octavia nodded slowly. She was very intrigued now. 

____________________________________________

Poppy finally stopped in the middle of the field. The only thing lighting their surroundings was the full moon above. The wind blew gently, causing the still grass around them to shift. 

Octavia glanced around for any signs of this ‘surprise’ Poppy had spoken of, but as far as she could see, there was only grass, a small cottage in the distance, and a dilapidated fence. 

“Poppy, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking f-” before she could finish, Poppy shushed her once again. Octavia stopped talking.

Poppy turned to face the field. Her index and thumb went to her lips, and before Octavia could wonder what she was about to do, she whistled. 

Octavia blinked; she was a bit taken aback by the sudden sharp noise piercing her ears. Something about the whistle made her think back to their first day in beast class together. Didn’t she whistle like that when- 

The sound of wings flapping and the cry of a Hippogriff caused her to look up at the sky. There, in the distance approaching them, was the outline of a Hippogriff. The beast landed, and the Slytherin realized it was- 

“Highwing!” Octavia gasped as the Hippogriff stepped closer, tucking her wings in. 

Poppy smiled, stepping closer and holding her hand out, which Highwing happily tilted her head down to nudge her beak into the witch’s open palm. She cooed softly at the affection. 

“Yes, I got her from the vivarium shortly before I left for the Three Broomsticks,” Poppy explained, running her hand along the beast’s beak. “She is essential for what I had in mind.” She added. Highwing seemed to perk up after the Hufflepuff mentioned her importance. 

The Slytherin took a step forward, running her hand gently along Highwing’s soft feathers. The Hippogriff nudged her beak against the top of Octavia’s head, affectionately nipping at the few hairs on her head that never seemed to lie flat, no matter how much she brushed them. 

“I’m sure she loves the outdoor time,” she said. “But, what does she have to do with the surprise?” Octavia wondered. 

Poppy grinned, like she hoped Octavia would ask that question. “You’ll see very shortly, but first I must ask-” she said, her tone shifting to one a bit more serious, still laced with the gentleness that only Poppy Sweeting could achieve. 

“Do you trust me?” 

Octavia stared at her, a little dumbfounded by the sudden question. Did she trust Poppy? Of course, she trusted Poppy. She trusted her enough to follow her into a poacher's den, trusted her enough to follow her into a dragon’s nest to return its eggs, and trusted her with the burden of her past, just as Poppy had entrusted her with her past. There wasn’t anyone else she trusted more than Poppy Sweeting. 

Octavia nodded quickly. “Of course, I trust you. I trust you more than anyone, Poppy.” She admitted wholeheartedly. 

Poppy was admittedly a little taken aback by the sudden, sincere confession. The Slytherin’s actions always proved that she trusted her, but hearing her say it out loud and confirm it caused her heart to thump in her chest. 

Poppy gave her a sweet smile. “I’m happy to hear that, Via.” She said, trying to steady her rapidly growing heartbeat as she began to hoist herself up onto Highwing, who bent down slightly to help her climb on.

Octavia chuckled shyly. “I- well, yeah, it’s true.” She said, brushing her white streak of hair from her face and behind her ear. 

The Hufflepuff hummed softly. “Well, are you just going to stand there?” She asked. Before Octavia could reply, the Hufflepuff extended her hand out to her. “Come on, the night is still young!” Poppy chirped.

The taller girl glanced at Poppy’s hand, then back up at her. Without much thought, she took the hand offered to her. Poppy pulled her up onto Highwing’s back. Sometimes, even Octavia could forget just how strong the Hufflepuff was. Most didn’t realize that all the extra time spent helping Professor Howin around the beast classroom carrying heavy sacks of beast feed, or helping wrangle an agitated creature, helped Poppy build her strength quite considerably. Despite her size, Poppy could easily lift Octavia off her feet if she wanted to. 

Octavia adjusted herself to feel more comfortable on Highwing’s back. The Hippogriff didn’t seem to mind the extra weight. Admittedly, she was a little nervous. The Slytherin loved flying on her broom, but on the back of a Hippogriff was a different story. She had only ridden on Highwing once, and that was when she and Natty had freed Highwing and another Hippogriff from the shackles of poachers, and that wasn’t exactly the most pleasant experience flying away on Highwing while having spells blasted at them. 

She tried not to let on about how nervous she was, but it was like Poppy could sense it. 

“Don’t worry, Highwing and I are safe flyers. Just hold onto me, okay?” She instructed, looking over her shoulder at the nervous girl behind her. 

Octavia’s brows shot up. “Hold- hold onto you?” The stammering that stumbled out of her mouth made her want to kick herself. 

The Hufflepuff nodded, smiling patiently. “Around my waist, yes. Wouldn’t want you falling off now, would we?” she chuckled. 

Octavia swallowed thickly. Of course, they had touched before, but this was a new territory for them. Holding onto Poppy’s waist was a huge step from the occasional hug, or brushing of hands as they walked side by side, or the subtle way their knees would brush against each other’s when they sat next to one another. 

The Slytherin inhaled deeply. It wasn’t that big of a deal, was it? She shoved her anxieties deep down into her gut, as her arms awkwardly hovered for a moment, before they slowly and cautiously wrapped around the shorter girl’s waist. 

She couldn’t see how Poppy reacted to the contact, but she noticed the subtle rise of her shoulders before they relaxed. 

Poppy turned to send her another reassuring smile. “Are you ready?” She asked, gently running her fingers down Highwing’s feathers.

Octavia smiled back at her before she nodded. “I’m ready.” She confirmed. Her fears always felt dulled when she was with Poppy. 

“You heard her, right, girl?” Poppy asked, directing her attention to the Hippogriff. 

Highwing let out a confident chirp before her large wings spread out. The Hippogriff trotted forward, getting ready for takeoff. With one powerful flap of her wings, she left the ground with a loud whoosh. 

Octavia couldn’t stop a startled yelp from escaping her mouth as they ascended into the air. Her grip around the Hufflepuff’s waist tightened slightly, praying she wouldn’t somehow lose her grip and fall off. Her eyes involuntarily screwed shut out of instinct. She shuddered as the cold wind hit her face. After several tense moments, she could feel that they weren’t rising anymore; instead, Highwing had found an altitude she wanted to stick to. 

Octavia could just make out the sound of Poppy’s elated laughter through the sound of the wind against her ears. She mustered up her courage, deciding to peek one emerald eye open. 

She could just barely see Poppy’s bright grin as she tilted her head to the left to gaze down at the scenery below. Her honey-brown eyes sparkled as they reflected the bright moonlight shining on them. Her hair whipped around freely as the wind ran through it. She looked so happy, so… free. 

Octavia felt the air escape her lungs as she took in the sight of her. Beautiful, so effortlessly stunning. 

“Via, look! Down there, the train!” Poppy called out, pointing down as they flew above the Hogsmeade train station. 

Octavia peeled her eyes away from Poppy and looked down, spotting the train passing through the station as steam escaped from the top of it. The train blew its horn as they flew overhead, signaling it was leaving the station. 

“I love this view,” Poppy said gently, as she watched the Scottish Highlands from their place in the sky. 

Octavia stared at her. “Yes, it’s quite the incredible view.” She replied softly. The view she had in mind may have differed from Poppy’s. 

The Slytherin could feel the tension melt away from her body. Despite being many, many feet in the air, with the possibility of falling to her certain death looming in the back of her mind, she felt safe. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on Poppy’s shoulder as she kept her eyes trained on the view ahead. She could hear the shorter girl’s breath catch as she did so. 

Octavia wasn’t the best at initiating physical contact like this, but she felt emboldened in that moment. It felt like the biggest victory when she felt Poppy lean back against her. 

“I’m glad to have met you, Poppy.” She whispered softly near the Hufflepuff’s ear. 

Poppy blinked before a wide grin spread across her face. “I’m glad I met you, too, Via.” She replied tenderly, matching Octavia’s gentle tone. 

The Slytherin smiled before her eyes fluttered shut, taking in Poppy’s warmth.

____________________________________________

The two walked in peaceful silence through the halls of the basement where the Hufflepuff common room was located. Octavia couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips as they walked. 

They stopped in front of the entrance to the common room, both making sure to keep their distance so Octavia wouldn’t get sprayed with vinegar by the magical defence the entrance had for non-Hufflepuffs. They had already been burned once before in the final weeks of their fifth year. Octavia had stepped just a little too close while walking Poppy back to her common room after their last class, receiving a splash of vinegar that coated her face and clothes. That uniform still carried the faintest scent of vinegar to this day. 

Poppy turned to face her, smiling that beautiful smile. “I had a great time with you, Via.” She began softly. Her hand brushed against the taller girl’s hand, and this time she didn’t shy away from the touch. 

Octavia felt her cheeks flush. “I did too.” She responded, offering the Hufflepuff a warm smile. 

Their eyes remained locked on one another, and for once, Octavia wasn’t hyper aware of the world around her like she normally was. All she could focus on was the girl in front of her. Those honey-brown eyes always knew how to draw her in so effortlessly. She suddenly became very aware of how close they were.

She gulped, her mouth felt dry as Poppy’s eyes briefly left hers to stare at the spot just beneath her nose. “I…” Octavia began, but her voice betrayed her as it got caught in her throat. 

Poppy took a small, yet hesitant, step forward into Octavia’s bubble, which she had no protest against. The Hufflepuff glanced back up to look into her eyes. Her gaze was questioning, searching, almost like she was asking for permission. Octavia didn’t move away when Poppy leaned up closer into her space. Her mind raced with possibilities. She could see where this was going, but she couldn’t quite grasp that it was real. She had read about moments like these in books as a child, but never imagined they’d actually happen. Was Poppy really going to-

Octavia’s thoughts halted to a stop once she felt the gentle press of soft lips against her own. Her mind had never felt so silent, and her body had never felt so light. Poppy was kissing her. 

The kiss was featherlight. Her breath hitched as tingle ran down Octavia’s spine, as her cheeks flushed several shades of red. Her heart hammered in her chest like a war drum. She wasn’t quite sure what to do in that moment, it was her first kiss after all, but her body seemed to have some semblance of a clue when her brain did not. She bent down slightly, which allowed Poppy to stop leaning on her toes to compensate for their six-inch height difference. Her eyes fluttered shut, taking in the feeling of Poppy’s lips against her own. The Hufflepuff’s lips were dizzyingly soft. The Slytherin felt slightly smaller hands slip into her own and lace their fingers together perfectly. It all felt like one perfect dream; she almost feared that at any moment she would be ripped away from this and wake up in her bed back in the Slytherin dorms. But no, this was no dream, thank Merlin. 

Poppy slowly pulled away. Octavia almost leaned forward again, but regained her composure. She already missed the feeling of Poppy’s lips on her own. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, allowing her to drink in the sight of a freshly kissed Poppy Sweeting. They stared at each other for a moment before Poppy offered her a shy smile. 

“S-sorry, if that was- out of the blue, I just-” The Hufflepuff slightly stammered before Octavia quickly added on. 

“No, no, it’s okay!” she squeaked out before clearing her throat. “I- I enjoyed that.” She whispered, just loud enough for Poppy to catch. 

Processing the Slytherin’s words, Poppy slowly nodded. A relieved smile spread across her lips. 

“Good, I’m- I’m glad.” She said softly. 

“So, I’ll- I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Octavia asked hopefully, her voice much lower and shyer than she intended. 

Poppy nodded. “Definitely.” She assured, giving Octavia’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Octavia smiled as Poppy slowly took a step back. Their hands stayed laced together as long as they could, before the distance grew too wide and their hands slid loose from each other. 

“Goodnight, Via.” Poppy smiled over her shoulder as she stepped through the entrance to her common room. 

Octavia smiled back, giving her a little wave. 

“Goodnight, Poppy.” She replied wistfully.

And with that, the door shut, leaving Octavia standing there with nothing but the contents of the basement around her. Her nerves still buzzed as she turned heel and began making her way back to her dorm. She felt like she was walking on air, as she grinned down at the floor. 

She quickly made her way back to her common room. Her spirits never dampened as she descended the stairs to the common room. The only sounds in the common room were the sound of rushing water from the mermaid fountain. 

Octavia was about to pass the seating area by the fireplace to get to the girls’ dorm before a shadow out of the corner of her eye made her pause. Her head turned to face one of the armchairs positioned by the fireplace. She flinched when a shadowy figure moved to stand from the chair. 

The only light source illuminating this part of the common room was a small lamp, but it was enough to help Octavia make out the familiar scraggly hair and freckled face of her housemate. 

“Still showing up past curfew, I see.” A familiar voice spoke quietly. 

Octavia’s eyes widened as she gazed at the boy before her. 

“Sebastian?”