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ariparri · 5 months

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The Man from Hearts

The Hogwarts Mystery Cardverse is an AU that takes place in a fantasy land called Cinderhaven. There are five regions, four of them representing a suit of cards; Spades, Clubs, Hearts, Diamonds. The final region representing the Jokers.

HPHM Cardverse Masterlist

Summary: Bill receives an offer to work within the museums of Spades as the new archaeologist. Eager for better work opportunities and to explore more of Cinderhaven, Bill takes the offer and travels to the Country of Spades. While there, he meets the King of Spades and his younger sister.

Warnings: Not proofread (I never proofread TwT), slight angst, mentions of death, harassment and public humiliation, Veruca insulting Bill's hairstyle but not in a cruel antagonizing way.

Tag List: @oneirataxia-girl @akikocho @lifeofkaze @eternalchaoschocolaterain

Word Count: 5313

I ended up dragging this on a bit too much… This was originally supposed to come out last month, but I was so busy with everything going on that I couldn’t work on my art or stories. I’m not used to Bill’s or Rakepick's characters quite yet xD I hope you guys enjoy this one though. I eventually got to go into more depth with Rakepick and why she holds a grudge against Coby and Duncan. She’s bitter because the newer officials are all younger (Coby, Duncan, Orion, Penny, etc.) and easily got their positions while she worked her butt off (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Timeline for my AU is also kind of wack. Just know that Coby and Veruca are ten years apart, Bill and Veruca are about two or three years apart making Bill about eight or nine years younger than Coby. In the beginning of this story Coby is 27, Veruca is 17 and Bill is about 19 or 20.

I have also provided a visual reference for Coby, Veruca and Bill for this story! Bill's hair is messed up on purpose.

• ･❀･｡ . ⡀｡⠐❀ ･｡ . ⡀｡⠐❀ ･ •･❀･｡ . ⡀｡⠐❀ ･｡ . ⡀｡⠐❀ ･ •

Traveling from the Kingdom of Hearts to other regions for work wasn’t always part of Bill’s plan, yet the curator for the museum he worked for informed him of archaeologist positions open within the other regions. Each region’s history was rich and new knowledge for Bill, yet he didn’t wish to travel too far, so the Land of Clubs was quickly taken out of the equation. Hearts are connected to both Diamonds and Spades, so those two were his obvious options. Though the Diamond Empire was much too interested in their luxury, something Bill and his family didn’t really have, they made do with the love and care they had for each other. And that leaves the Country of Spades. Spades’ history with both science fiction and technology is quite huge with material still undiscovered. Bill would have been crazy not to accept the offer, and the travel cost to Spades was covered by the museum.

And so Bill had accepted the position in Spades. On the train, passing through the mountain path connecting Hearts to Spades, Bill sits alone in a booth reading over the papers from Spades’ museums the History Vault, home of the general history of the country, and the Science Fiction Institute, where all creations and inventions of Spades are held. Unlike in Hearts where he only worked in the museum for the kingdom’s artifacts, Bill has access to work in both the Vault and Institute. It seems there will be more for Bill to discover within the country and his nerves are building it up in anticipation.

The train’s air horn blows signaling the passengers on board of their next stop. Bill quickly gathers his things, placing his papers and within his briefcase. Looking out the window, Bill is amazed by the vast difference to the environment of the country. There’s machinery everywhere. Mechanic animals pulling carriages and carts, the machines mostly in the form of a horse or a giant bird. “Was that an ostrich?” Bill muttered as he watched a giant robotic bird pull a carriage along the streets. Smoke pours out from the steam engine’s chimney pipes as the train slows to a stop on the tracks just by the station’s platform. People filed out of the train as soon as the doors opened, some shoving or bumping into others as they made their way through the crowd. Bill steps out onto the platform, ice grey eyes observing the station until he finds the information desk. With his luggage and passport in hand, the young man makes his way towards the receptionist.

“Next in line!” The receptionist calls and the young man steps towards the desk, immediately handing over his passport and credentials. She takes them, reading over them with little enthusiasm. “Hmm, William Weasley. You came from the Kingdom of Hearts and you’re traveling for work?”

“Yes. I’m here for the archaeologist position for the—”

“Oh you’re the new recruit!” The lady cuts off, “Lady Buckthorn-Snyde has already informed us of your arrival.” She immediately stamps Bill’s travel form and passport for approval, before reaching over to the brochure stand and pulling out a couple pamphlets. “She was very adamant that we make sure your access into the country goes smoothly. Normally, this isn’t a long process, but Lady Buckthorn-Snyde can be an intimidating woman to deal with and I don’t want to be the next person to face her wrath.” She hands over the pamphlets leisurely. “So these pamphlets will help you around the place. One is the map, one is for housing and renting, and the last one is a basic guide for tourists and foreigners. Anyways, enjoy your stay or whatever.” She dismisses Bill after handing him his paperwork before signaling to the next person in line.

Dumbstruck by the quick dismissal from the receptionist, Bill faltered as he gathered his things and left the information desk. He looked around for the exit, head darting left and right before spotting the double doors people were flooding through.

Stepping out of the station the astonishment from before had come back as Bill gazed at his surroundings. The skyline is packed with distinct buildings and towers and their history seems to shine more now than ever. Science and development is flourishing in Spades and it has clearly attracted a lot of attention. From the distance he can see a clear view of the palace, including the factories and the sea behind it. Many different inventions have left their mark not just on business, but also upon the city's identity. A zeppelin, a huge air ship he was only able to see from a very far distance in the Kingdom of Hearts, can be seen flying overhead of the buildings. Just like the trains they built for Cinderhaven, branding the country’s symbol and colors, the Country of Spades was truly magnificent.

A loud screech was heard, causing Bill to snap his attention towards the mechanical ostrich pulling a carriage charging right for him. He jumps back before the bird runs into him. “Oh I’m definitely going to enjoy my stay here.” He chuckles, watching the ostrich continue to run down the street before pulling out the pamphlets of the map and housing. Bill reads through the information on the pamphlet, finding two places closest to the museums, Saxons Motel or Magrath Villa, both for good prices in rent. However since Bill will be residing in Spades for the foreseeable future, having a permanent place to stay would fare better for him. So Magrath Villa will be the first place Bill heads to.

At least he hopes he can get there. Hailing for a cab or carriage has been futile as many of the transportation vehicles passing by are already occupied or simply ignored him. With no luck of getting a ride to Magrath Villa, Bill grabs his suitcase and proceeds down the street. The map the receptionist gave him proved to be useless as there were more than the necessary amount of trails to follow. Maybe he’ll be lucky to get directions from people passing by.

However that also proved to be useless as the people actively ignored him and went about their day. Some even outright refused because he was a foreigner. It seems even in Spades, there is some prejudice against outsiders. Still, Bill tried to find someone who was helpful enough to give him directions. He spots some men carrying boxes and instruments into the music shop up ahead. “Excuse me, gentlemen!” Bill rushes up to them, “I'm looking for Magrath Villa. Would you–“ the men completely ignored him, a couple giving him dirty looks as they haul the equipment into the building, leaving Bill alone on the street-- “hmmm, I guess not…”

A sigh escapes Bill as he has no choice but to try and find Magrath on his own. Lost in his own thoughts a young woman with brown wavy hair rushes by, seemingly excited to get to wherever her destination leads her. The girl accidentally bumped into Bill’s side as she passed him, stumbling a bit before catching herself and continuing onward, spewing out a hasty apology. Taking the chance to ask the girl for directions, Bill calls out to her “Oh wait, excuse me, Miss. Can you please help me–” just as Bill held his hand out to tap the girl’s shoulder, a heavy silver handle in the shape of a wolf landed on his shoulder and pulled him back. The sudden force caused him to stumble a bit as he was turned around. The same silver handle lands roughly on his shoulder again, steadying him. And as he regained his composure Bill looked up at the man before him, bewildered ice grey eyes meeting steely eyes hidden behind blue tinted round shades.

Before Bill had a chance to speak, the man shoved the cane handle under his chin, forcing Bill to tilt his head upward. “Now I’m certain you weren’t just trying to make a move on my sister.” The red head was too stunned to speak. Never before had he ever expected to be caught in a situation like this. From the hard expression on his face down to the accessories on his person and the aura he presents, the man before Bill was effortlessly intimidating.

The man was dressed in a form fitting velvet black suit jacket, a velvet black and white waistcoat with a Jacobean pattern to match. The citrine gemstone on the wolf lapel pin, his blue tinted glasses and the accessories on his hat are the only elements that add splashes of colors to his entire suit. Everything about this man screamed upper class, and that’s when Bill noticed the emblem pinned on the belt of his hat. A silver Spade adorned with a crown. The man holding him hostage in the middle of the street was none other than— “The King of Spades—” The red head sputters, trying to regain his composure as the king glares down at him. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t my attention— I’m new here—”

“Clearly. No Spades wears this amount of red and bears the Hearts crest.” The king remarks with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. He tilts his shades down, peering his vibrant magenta eyes at the red head. Once again, Bill was silenced by the scrutinizing intensity of the king’s gaze on him. What are the chances that Bill would meet the King of Spades on his first day in the country. And already, he’s gotten himself in trouble with the king. Before Bill could come up with a sentence, a feminine voice was heard from behind. “Coby, leave him alone.”

The young woman from before came into view again, she had a frown on her face as she faced the king. ‘She called him by his first name. Is she allowed to do that?’ Bill thought as he watched the king and the girl go back and forth in their banter. “Vera, he was hitting on you!” The king exclaimed, earning an eye roll from the girl now known as Vera. “He already said he wasn’t. For the love of Avis, not every guy is out to get me!”

“You don’t know that. Men can never be trusted!”

“Yeah? What about Carson? Is my best friend not to be trusted?”

“That’s different. He’s family, of course you’re gonna trust him. I’m just saying, all men are animals. Don’t be getting close to any of them!”

“Oh shut up! You do this all the time. You know some guys are afraid to approach me because you’re the king!”

“As they should be! None of those guys are worthy to be in your presence if I have anything to say about it!”

“Would you stop! Oh my lord, you can be so annoying! Why do you—”

“Um excuse me!” Bill’s voice rang out, effectively putting the argument to a halt. The sibling duo stopped and turned their attention back to Bill, still in Coby’s hold. Bill gave them an awkward smile, “Aha, yeah… I’m sorry for the trouble but can you please let me go?” Coby instantly removes his cane away from Bill, returning to a casual stance leaning a bit of his weight on to the cane. “Right,” he cleared his throat, “Apologies for that. Just looking out for my little sister, didn’t mean to rough you up there.”

After clearing up the misunderstanding, Coby had properly introduced himself and his sister, whose name is actually Veruca. Bill returned the introduction, explaining that he traveled to Spades for work and needed directions to Magrath Villa. To Bill’s surprise, Coby and Veruca offered to show them the place. Ignoring his complaints, the sibling duo proceeded to walk in the direction of the villa, leaving Bill with no choice but to catch up with them. The three engage in small talk, with Veruca asking Bill about Hearts to Coby asking why he specifically chose to work in Spades.

“I see,” Coby noted, “So the luxuries of Diamonds would be far too glamorous to what you’re used to. Well if you can get through the day with all the pollution from the factories and engines here, I’d say you’d fit right in with Spades.” He gives Bill a signature charismatic grin earning a small laugh in response from the red head. “Yeah well, Spades’ history is one that intrigues me more than the other regions. Why and how did the people go from actual horses to making machinery of horses?”

“Though, I am surprised to see the king himself walking in the streets without a guard. Don’t you think that’s a little careless? What if you get attacked?” Bill can’t help but wonder how Coby can just roam freely as the king of the region. Not even King Declan left the castle without a courtier following closely behind. It was a big surprise to Bill with how lenient Coby is as a king.

Coby simply hummed, “I could be careless, but I was never really a rule follower. Ironic right, since I’m the king?” He laughed, patting the younger man on the shoulder. “But I don’t like being followed around by a guard every hour of the day. Besides, this one here, hates having our bonding time interrupted.” A grin forms on the king’s face as he taps Veruca’s head with the handle of his cane. He expected Veruca to swat his cane away or hit him back but the younger McQuaid was more focused on their new companion. She had a hard gaze in her eyes as she scrutinized the red head. Bill cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable by the girl’s glare. Coby wasn’t sure what got his little sister bothered, but knowing Veruca, it was either going to be entertaining or insulting.

“I’m sorry” the younger McQuaid halts in her steps, "but who did your hair? It looks absolutely terrible. You really need a new barber." Insulting, Coby confirmed mentally. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or scold Veruca for her comment. And yet he found entertainment in the situation. A sheepish look was on Bill's face, scratching the back of his head he let out an awkward chuckle, "Aha yeah… my mum tends to chop it off if I let it grow out too much."

An awkward silence followed, Veruca cringing at both her choice of words and Bill’s admittance and Coby shook his head as he sighs. “I’m sorry for my sister’s comment.” Coby spoke up first. “She has the habit of speaking her mind. A good thing so she isn’t pushed around but, in casual conversation she can sound rather insensitive and ignorant.” He ruffles Veruca’s hair earning a shove from her. Fixing her hair up with a roll of her eyes, Veruca turns her attention back to Bill, eyes narrowed in a skeptical gaze. “What, you're not grown enough, so you still let your mother cut your hair?” Her question had earned her a smack to the back of her head by her brother. “You don’t have to answer that.”

It was safe to say, the sibling duo became a central part of Bill’s life in the Country of Spades.

~ One Year Later • Aug. 28th ~

Life in the Country of Spades had gone dim as soon as news of King Coby’s death reached the people’s ears. News stations were competing against each other to make headlines on the cause of the King’s death. Even the people were starting to create their own theories on Coby’s death. Bad gossip and nothing more.

Sitting in the outdoor dining area of the cafe nearby the museums, Bill tossed the newspaper onto the table with a tired sigh, dragging a hand down his face. He had met the King many times and most of them were when he was with Veruca dragging him out of the palace and to places she wanted to go to. From their interactions and seeing how the siblings are, Bill could tell that Coby was a good man. He cared not just for his family but for the people as well. He worked hard with Duncan Ashe, the country’s Chancellor and his best friend, to create Spades’ very own annual event for the people to enjoy and have fun in.

Bill glances over at Veruca sitting across from him. She had been quiet ever since she got to the cafe, staring off into space and in her own world. Bill was worried for her. With her brother gone, and the country making up theories on his death, no one seemed to realize or care how this loss is affecting Coby’s family. Veruca’s parents had already made their statements, choosing to mourn in peace and silence. Veruca on the other hand was sought after by the press every time she left her home. It didn’t help that Coby was assassinated on her birthday five days ago, making Veruca an easy subject for journalists to go after.

Bill pulls out a small rectangular box and slides it over to Veruca on the table top. Veruca seemed to snap out of her daze, curiously gazing at the box before looking up towards Bill. He simply gave her a small smile and nodded his head towards the gift. “A birthday gift.” Veruca’s face scrunched up, “But you already got me a gift, you don’t need to give me another one.” Bill shakes his head, nudging the box closer to her. “I insist. Besides, this one is undoubtedly special to you.”

Veruca was silent again, but seeing how Bill was adamant that she accept the gift, she took the small box in her hands. Just as she removed the top cover of the box, her breath hitched as the contents within was revealed. Inside laid a golden bullet connected to a chain necklace. Veruca instantly recognized the piece of jewelry. Picking up the bullet, she turned it over to see her brother’s name engraved into the pendant. Her green eyes glossed over as she ran her finger over the carved letters. “Where… where did you get this?”

“Lady Buckthorn-Snyde wanted to put it up on display in the Vault alongside the former monarchs’ belongings as another artifact, but it didn’t sit right with me.”

“Wow… of course she would do that.” Veruca laughed bitterly. “I’m surprised you got permission to take it though. I hear that woman is very tough to persuade.” RBill shrugged with a teasing grin, “Well, I never said I got permission.”

“You just took it?” Veruca had an incredulous look upon her face, a lighthearted huff escaping her lips. “Now if only they can find Coby’s cane. That one was actually a family heirloom, it belonged to my great grandfather.” Bill hummed, holding his chin in thought, “I haven’t seen his cane within the Kings’ Artifacts exhibit, but I’ll be sure to keep a look out for it.” Veruca responds with an appreciative smile.

“Well if it isn’t the King’s younger sister, Veruca McQuaid.” A voice calls out, causing the two to look over to see Patricia Rakepick approach their table. At the Ace’s presence, Veruca went quiet again. “Miss Veruca I haven’t seen you since the incident. I am not surprised though, after what happened I expected you would hide away for a while.” The Ace spoke aimlessly with a wave of her hand. The tone of her voice was empathetic, but there was an eerie chill, almost taunting, that followed. “Madame Ace, what a surprise to see you here.” Veruca quietly spoke, barely keeping the older woman’s gaze. Bill noticed Veruca’s reaction, leaving him confused to see her act so small in the Ace’s presence.

“I am merely taking a stroll, then I saw you and I must simply come by to say hello.” Rakepick’s cool demeanor was anything but comforting. Veruca felt as if the air around her was starting to suffocate her. Before Bill could greet the Ace himself, Rakepick’s cold gaze turned in his direction. Upon looking into her eyes, Bill froze, feeling a hitch in his breath. Now he knew why Veruca was so hesitant to face the Ace. The way the woman gazed at him was almost akin to a predator spying on its prey, ready to pounce. The world around him was slowly fading to grey as he maintained eye contact with the woman. The last remaining color Bill saw before everything faded in a sea of grey were the piercing cold blue ice peering down at him.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Questions rang through Bill’s head as he was frozen in place. He’s personally never met the Ace, only heard of her reputation being a brutal yet highly respected member of the court. But upon meeting her now, Bill wasn’t too fond of being in her presence. At least now he understood why Veruca felt so uncomfortable with Rakepick around. He snuck a glance over to Veruca to see her sitting tensely, eyes now casted onto the box he had given her.

A wicked smile graced the Ace’s sharp features, “And you must be the archaeologist the Curator spoke of. William Weasley was it? I see you’re well acquainted with Miss Veruca.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, Bill gave Rakepick a nervous smile, “Hello Madame Ace, that is correct. Veruca is a good friend of mine.” A quiet hum was her response. “I see. Well I do hope that Miss Veruca has been treating you well. She does not seem to realize that her incessant need for company can be seen as distracting and a burden.” Aghast by the accusation, Veruca quickly snapped her head up to Rakepick. “Excuse me?”

Bill shifted in his seat looking just as uncomfortable as Veruca, “I’m not sure what you mean by that. Veruca has been nothing but pleasant since I first came to Spades.”

“I am sure she has. Be careful around her though, Miss Veruca can be very demanding when she wants someone’s attention. Just take the late king for example. Tried to do his job as the country’s king, but his own sister kept getting in the way. Distracting him until, well, it’s all in the news. Everyone knows about it.”

“Madame Ace, that was uncalled for! Coby’s death was not my fault!”

“Was it really? Was it really not your fault that your brother is dead?” Rakepick turns her head back to the brunette, the gaze in her eyes scrutinizing and accusing, “Your brother had a role to play as the king of this country. Yet you constantly interrupt him of his duties, dragging him out of the palace to entertain your silly little ideas.” Veruca shakes her head, looking up at the older woman with a scowl, “That’s not true! I never distracted him, Coby—”

“Are you insinuating your brother was a slacker? That he cared less about his role as King and spoiled you because you are family?”

“N—no! I would never— I never said he—”

“King Coby was perceptive and sharp despite his laidback attitude.” Rakepick silenced her, “If you weren’t at the palace at the time of the assassination, his majesty would have easily detected the assassin. But he was too preoccupied with your presence.” Her eyes narrowed, glaring down at Veruca. “And his majesty couldn’t properly fight off his assailant as he was too focused on making sure you weren’t in the way.” The tension around them was getting heavy, Veruca couldn’t defend herself with Rakepick cutting her off at every chance. The people around them were quietly whispering amongst each other and sneaking glances their way. “But you got in the way, anyways. And now your brother is dead, and the country has no king.”

“That’s enough!” Bill slams his hands against the table, standing up with so much force the chair is knocked back. He steps between the two, shielding Veruca from any more of Rakepick’s torment. A deep frown crosses his features as he holds a stern glare towards the older woman. “Have you no damn shame! Veruca just lost her brother, and on her birthday no less! She doesn’t need you accusing her of something out of her control, have some damn empathy!” At Bill’s outburst, a guard stalks through the crowd ready to dispel the commotion.

“How unbefitting of you, Madam Ace, to be causing a scene in public. Most especially against King Coby’s sister.” An authoritative voice broke through the crowd, silencing everyone around as their eyes turned in the guard’s direction. Erika Rath, the Chancellor’s guard, stands before the three. Her arms were folded across her chest, standing tall and confident as she observed the group with a neutral expression. “It would be wise to control yourself, lest you would like the Chancellor to get involved. He’s a very busy man, Madame Ace, and he has no time to be dealing with your nonsense.”

“You have a lot of nerve to be talking down to me, soldier.” Rakepick snapped towards the blonde. “I should have you put through a restriction and a reduction in grade, for talking back to your superior.”

The expression on Erika’s face was intense, she steps closer to Rakepick, fiery gaze in her eyes, “I report directly to the Chancellor, Madame Ace, not you. And on his order, no one is to disturb the late King’s family as they mourn over their loss. You may be the Ace, Madame, but the Chancellor still ranks above you. You do not want to make him even angrier than he already is with you.” Rakepick says nothing, keeping up with the intense stare down with the guard. A few seconds passed before a cold smile reappeared on her face. “Apologies, Rath. It seems I have overstepped many boundaries today.” The Ace turns her attention back to Bill and Veruca, the two feeling a chill run down their spine as if they felt the older woman peer right through their souls. “My condolences Miss McQuaid. I do hope you can let this whole ordeal go. With the king gone, so many things are going on and everyone is clearly out of sorts.” She spoke with a hand over her heart as a sign of sincerity but there was none in her words. “I’m sure you can understand the stress we are all in.”

Her tone was sickenly sweet, it made Veruca feel sick. She struggled maintaining eye contact with the older woman, only managing a weak nod in response. Rakepick gave them one last icy smile before she left the cafe not even sparing a glance or a word to Erika. As soon as Rakepick was no longer in sight, the heavy tension went away and Bill let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Everyone was urged to continue on with what they were doing by Erika. Though there was an obvious awkwardness in the air. Who can just go back to sipping their tea and eating cakes after witnessing all of that? Erika turns to Bill and Veruca, simply giving them a nod and that she would inform the Chancellor of what had transpired. Bill thanks her and watches Erika leave to continue her patrol.

Once she was further away from them, Bill turned around to face Veruca. She had been quiet the entire time since he stepped in to confront Rakepick. She had a downcast look, and Bill noticed that her eyes were glossy. Her jaw was tightly clenched and he realized that she was trying to hold herself back from crying. Veruca flinches when a hand rests upon her shoulder, she looks up to see Bill giving her a reassuring smile. “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t think she’ll be bothering you anymore, today.” Veruca returns the gesture with a strained smile. “Thanks… you didn’t have to do that, though.” Bill simply waves her off with a shake of his head, “Oh come on, I couldn’t just stand by and let her harass you like that.”

He pulls out his handkerchief and hands it over to her. “Still hard to believe that woman is the Ace of the country.” Veruca hums in acknowledgement, taking the cloth and wiping her tears away, “A foul one, isn’t she? Never really liked her. At least you know the reason why. She has this arrogant aura around her due to her title, and it’s gotten worse since…,” she trails off, eyes glancing around before turning her gaze back to her companion, “well, you know… She started taking the mantle way too seriously, creating more strict policies on everything. Duncan isn’t too happy about her overstepping his authority.”

“I can imagine.” Bill huffs, returning to his seat, “She’s a hard woman to deal with, I give my praise to the Chancellor for lasting this long with her.” Veruca lets out a small laugh before going quiet again, the gloomy expression returning to her face. “Do you think it was really my fault?” Bill looks at her with a reassuring yet sad smile, “No, not at all. It’s an older sibling's nature to protect their younger sibling.” He gently pats her shoulder. “Don’t believe a thing Rakepick says. Coby obviously loved you and was happy to follow you wherever you wanted to go or let you into the palace. And don’t forget, he was willing to chase away anybody who tried to take advantage of you. Even if they were merely asking for directions.” Bringing up their first meeting, hoping it would at least brighten up Veruca’s mood a bit.

Veruca chuckles at that, remembering the encounter. “Yeah, he does have an aggressive way in dealing with creeps.” A surprised gasp comes from Bill, “I’m a creep? Now that’s just hurtful, Veruca.” He frowns, feigning offense and holding a hand to his chest. “And here I thought we were friends.” Veruca rolls her eyes at his comment, “With the shoddy haircut you had at the time, you were definitely a creep.”

“Hey, I told you already my mother was the one that cut it! That wasn’t my fault.”

“No offense to your mother, but you seriously need to get someone else to cut it.”

“Who says I plan to cut it? I’m growing it out. It looks better this way, don’t you think?”

“Well it certainly is an upgrade to your old look. Being an archaeologist pays nicely, huh? Don’t have to worry about your precious hand-me-downs being ruined.” Veruca jests. The two often poked fun at each other’s appearance in a light hearted manner.

A smile breaks out on Bill’s face seeing Veruca brighten up again. Fear, pain and sadness were not emotions Bill had ever associated with Veruca. However after today’s events, he was more open to realizing how much Veruca keeps so much to herself. Veruca hardly had much reason to express any negative emotions, and if she did she kept it hidden, bottling it up so no one ever knew she was upset. ‘The pressure of being the king’s little sister must have gotten to her.’ Bill solemnly thinks, watching Veruca finish up the last of her tarts. With Coby gone, Veruca is much more vulnerable to people with bad intentions. It was obvious with the journalists and then today with Rakepick. Duncan, Wilhelmina and Elroy can only do so much, but they know they can’t watch over Veruca all the time.

“You alright there, Bill?” He must have had a weird look on his face judging by the way Veruca was staring at him. He simply smiled, shaking his head, “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” It was then that Bill made a promise not just to himself, but to Coby as well, that he would stand by Veruca and watch after her. After all, it is in the older sibling’s nature to protect their younger sibling.

#ariparri #hphm cardverse #bill weasley #veruca mcquaid #coby mcquaid #patricia rakepick #erika rath #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery

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redhairedgryffindor · 4 months

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Any important information I should include in the letter?

My curse-breaking skills

My sparkling personality

I defeated 'R'

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #jacob's sibling #mc #hphm spoilers #harry potter hogwarts mystery spoilers #character: lea cahill #erika rath #character: douglas hawkins #character: constantinos brakus

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deafeningwizardsquare · 2 years

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The Yule Ball but with chaos the Quidditch gang

Skye marry me

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #orion amari #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #erika rath

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 1 year

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Quidditch Culture: An honest look at The Wizarding Sport

Listen, I love Quidditch.

You love Quidditch.

We all love Quidditch.

If nothing else, it’s a funny word. But the Harry Potter books gave us a fully realized sport with rules that were easy enough to understand without being too simplistic. It was relatable to real sports, but with a bit of fantasy thrown in to make it feel other-worldly. Expanded content, like the book Quidditch Through The Ages, only fleshed the game out even further. (I’ll be referencing that book and bringing up details revealed within it, just as a forewarning.) Sure, Quidditch has been mocked over the years because of the unbalanced role the Seeker has over the other players, but they did manage to offer a counter argument in the form of the World Cup match in GOF (I’ll be talking about that too) and really, the isolation and heightened role for the seeker was basically just symbolism for Harry’s role in the wizarding community. The game is fun, plain and simple. It’s exciting.

But it is also shockingly violent, frighteningly competitive, and practically all-consuming.

There is no avoiding the fact that Quidditch is a dangerous sport. You play the game on broomsticks, flying a hundred feet in the air, give or take. To call that a health hazard is putting it lightly. Anyone can fall off their broomsticks at any time. It’s not just a hypothetical, either. There are numerous instances of this happening in-universe. Players fall, crash, or get deliberately knocked off their brooms. In every single game, they risk death. They risk severe, potentially lifelong injuries. While it is possible that there is some kind of cushioning charm on the field below, we don't ever get confirmation of that, even in Quidditch Through The Ages. That's literally just a head-canon. The Wizarding World itself is inherently dangerous, and that gets into a different (and much bigger) conversation. Flying isn’t exactly safe, but it at least has a purpose, that being transportation. Quidditch is a form of recreation. It’s not a necessity, despite what certain characters would have you believe, and I will get to that.

To be fair, the existence of magic renders many of the dangers of this world considerably safer, or at least less fatal. But that’s part of the problem. An ability to magically heal wounds has resulted in this society overall taking injury less seriously. It has led to a shared sense of overconfidence. Particularly since they have no concept of mental health. Like I said, this is a bigger discussion for another day, but I’d just like to draw the conclusion that witches and wizards don’t understand trauma, and how it can affect people. If you fall fifty feet and your arm snaps in half, that’s going to be excruciatingly painful and frightening. A Healer might be able to wave a wand and heal your physical injuries, but the trauma of such a shocking, painful experience won’t simply disappear. Mental health matters.

But if you thought that was the end of it, my friend, then I’m afraid you have forgotten about The Bludgers. Because if you take a step back to think about it, the existence of the bludgers is insane. Gigantic iron bullets that rocket around the field with the sole purpose of attempting to knock players off their broomsticks. One of the balls in this sports game will actively try to kill you. If nothing else, it’s exceedingly unlikely that you’ll go an entire Quidditch career without getting severely injured by one of them. Couple that with the anxiety, because I don’t know about you, but if I played Quidditch? I would be constantly paranoid about the bludgers. True, there are players on standby who exist to protect you from them…but that’s really not enough, especially since there are also players on standby who exist to use them against you. The two primary jobs of the Beater are to protect their team from Bludgers and hit them at the opposing team. That's not even acknowledging the risk that they might hit people in the stands. Again, we don't ever see this happen, so one can assume there are spells to prevent it...but that's still just a theory.

Quidditch is more violent than the likes of boxing, and there is little doubt that it can cause lasting damage to players just as easily. It could probably do so a lot faster. How any of them still have teeth, how most of them don’t have brain damage, is absolutely beyond me. Beaters literally exist to attack opposing players. In particular, the Seeker, because of their crucial role. What’s more, the Seeker has no counterpart like the Beaters and Chasers. They’re completely on their own, and frequently a target. Nowhere is this better demonstrated than in the World Cup game. Apart from establishing that The Seeker isn’t actually that overpowered if you have Chasers who are skilled enough, this match gave us an insight into just how ruthlessly violent professional Quidditch can be.

I say this unironically - Aidan Lynch sustained serious brain damage after that game. There is no way that he did not. He crashed into the ground at least twice. At least one of these crashes was deliberate on the part of Krum. I cannot stress this enough - there is an entire maneuver, a famous Seeker move, designed around tricking the opposing Seeker into crashing. This is something that the characters don’t see as a problem, either, beyond lamenting that it was done to the team they were supporting. Arthur condemns Lynch, the victim, for falling into the trap. Charlie writes it off by saying “He only got ploughed!” The characters, even the adults, are completely oblivious to the real problem here, and the lack of self-awareness is truly disturbing. Even Harry is susceptible to this. Muggle-borns (and those raised by muggles) are not immune to Quidditch Culture. To Harry, like everyone else, the Wronskei Feint isn’t horrific, it’s cool. The mark of an exceptional Seeker. The only bad thing about it was that Krum put himself in danger, apparently.

The utterly cavalier attitude that fans have toward the violence is not an isolated incident, either. It is the norm. It’s not only socially acceptable for Quidditch players and their fans to be bloodthirsty, in some cases it is even expected, and brings out viciousness among even the most level-headed people. Did you know this game has seven hundred fouls? At one point Slytherin gets in trouble for attacking Oliver Wood, but only because, and I quote, "You do not attack the Keeper unless the Quaffle is within scoring area." Apparently it's just fine to do so otherwise. There is a team in the British/Irish league known as the Falmouth Falcons, who are infamous for their violent playstyle. To the point where their motto is, I kid you not, “Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads.” How in god’s name does a professional sports team get away with something like that? I’ll tell you how. Because Quidditch fans are nuts. Because Quidditch fans are no less desensitized to the dangers of this game than the players are.

This can be observed in virtually every character we see who becomes invested in the game. Oliver Wood is one of the finest examples, as is Skye Parkin from HPHM. While it's usually played for laughs, these tendencies are unhealthy and disturbing if you look at them realistically. Both of these characters take the game of Quidditch, specifically their goal of victory, way too far. To the point where they seem to value a match victory over things like the well-being of their team. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of healthy enthusiasm for team sports, nothing wrong with being passionate for a game that you love. But when Oliver tells Harry to “get the snitch or die trying” and it’s not entirely clear if he’s joking…then he’s putting the game itself over his team. Which, as the literal team captain, is simply not acceptable. Then Harry himself falls into this tendency. Even though a bludger is actively trying to kill him, Harry prioritizes defeating Slytherin over his own safety. Harry’s not even the competitive type, not usually. But he's never been one to take his own life that seriously this game brings out that side of people, and does so to dangerous levels.

Almost everyone who ever touches this game comes off worse for it. (The only exception I can think of being Ginny Weasley.) Ron playing Quidditch caused his inferiority complex to act up and gave him a healthy dose of stage fright. The HPHM Quidditch storyline sees multiple characters suffering for the sake of Quidditch, from Skye Parkin being pressured to live up to her family’s legacy, to Erika Rath being subjected to bullying and pressure from all sides, thanks to her own talents. Gwenog Jones, as we learn in HPHM, was a short-sighted cheat who never took responsibility for her actions. Ludo Bagman is no different. He’s a gambling addict who winds up stealing the life savings of two teenagers to cover his debt. The only character to ever criticize the negativity that Quidditch creates is Hermione, and like most of the time, she’s absolutely right. But the conversation never goes anywhere because she is always shut down, swiftly and without mercy. The other characters in the room act as though she’s blasphemed. All because she doesn’t like a sport.

This is what I mean. Quidditch is not simply a game to these people. To the witches and wizards who are into it, Quidditch is worshipped. It’s a lifestyle, a philosophy, that is shared across this society. There are no “casual” fans. People who follow this sport become invested, to an unhealthy level. To the point of rioting if it's taken away, to the point where Lee Jordan and Murphy McNully can't even pretend to be impartial, and this is treated as basically normal. When I use the phrase “Quidditch Culture” I’m not simply being pretentious. There really does seem to be shared understanding between the fans, and all of them take the game that seriously. I think the greatest example of this can be found in the Daily Prophet. When “stooging” was banned, people were outraged. Including one boy who claimed that he and his dad “liked watching them Keepers get flattened.” He tearfully claims that he doesn’t want to go see Quidditch games anymore. Kid was six years old, by the way.

I really feel like the culture speaks for itself at this point.

#Quidditch #Quidditch Culture #Harry Potter #Oliver Wood #Harry James Potter #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Harry Potter Analysis #HPHM Quidditch #Fandom Analysis #Ludo Bagman #Skye Parkin #Erika Rath #Gwenog Jones #Aidan Lynch #Victor Krum #The Wronskei Feint #Falmouth Falcons

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helenadurazzo · 1 year

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Candlelight

Here is a story I wrote for the holiday challenge made by @ariparri on the HPHM amino, telling a story about Erika and Helena on Christmas Eve, 1991

Helena lessened her grip on Erika’s hand once they both successfully apparated in front of the Rath household. The home was of Victorian with a hint style and made of stone. It was sturdy in appearance and seemed somewhat unwelcoming on the outside but still intriguing to enter nonetheless.

Helena looked over at her girlfriend and smiled, however that smile faltered as she noticed a sense of uneasiness that was unusual for Erika. “Is everything alright?”

“Sorry, I’m just nervous I guess.” Erika admitted, without looking directly at Helena. “My father’s rarely ever done anything with people for the holidays with the exception of close family like my uncle, aunt, and their kids. It reminds him too much of my mother I suppose…she passed away unexpectedly on Christmas Eve two decades ago.”

“You could have told me you know.” Helena reminded her. “I don’t have to come if your father doesn’t want other people around, besides you’ll have plenty of other opportunities to introduce me to him, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“It’s not that.” Erika clarified. “I didn’t even bring up the possibility of inviting you for the holidays mainly because I figured you’d be busy and this time of year is always tough for my father. However he actually came up with the idea himself, actually, now that I mention it, he has seemed really excited to meet you, such a level of cheerfulness is odd to see from him this time of year.”

“Well if he insists then I don’t see why we should be worrying about it too much.” Helena said with a supportive smile. “Just let me know if anything changes and I’ll make sure to accommodate for that, alright?”

“Alright,” Erika agreed as she and Helena walked together close to the door.

“Is your uncle going to be coming later today?” Helena asked as Erika knocked on the door surprisingly gently.

“No” Erika replied as she turned to Helena. “He is traveling abroad with the rest of the family, it’ll just be the three of us, nothing too big or fancy.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Helena replied with a warm smile as she gave Erika a light kiss on the cheek.

The dark door was opened up by Erika’s father not too long after. Erika had shown Helena some pictures of him before and he resembled his appearance in them quite nicely. He had relatively long blonde hair that was a darker shade than Erika’s that reached his chin and a light layer of facial hair in the form of a mustache and a goatee. His eyes were the exact shade of blue as Erika’s and while he did give an intimidating feel, he did seem to have to the same level of approachability as his daughter once you were actually able to talk and see them close up rather than from a distance.

“You two finally made it, and right on time.” He welcomed them with a warm smile. “Now come on in, before you two catch a cold”

“Thank you Mr. Rath.” She acknowledged as she followed Erika’s lead and put her royal blue coat on one of the coat hangers next to the entryway of the Rath family home.

She then followed behind Erika and her father into what appeared to be the main living area in the home. It was old fashioned and darkly tinted with each of the windows being accompanied with emerald curtains made of velvet. The fireplace was what brought warmth and color into the room with its multicolored flames. The walls were decorated by different family pictures, with the main one that caught her attention being an old wedding portrait that was hung over the fireplace.

“I made you both some hot chocolate just before you arrived.” Erika’s father said as her motioned to the two cups on the table in the center of the living area as he took a seat on one of the couches while Helena sat next to Erika on the other one.

“Thank you,” Helena replied as she took a sip. “I appreciate your hospitality.”

“Of course!” Erika’s father cheerfully replied. “After all, what kind of host would I be if I did anything less? And considering how fondly and highly my daughter talks about you, I can tell you certainly deserve the best.”

“He does have a point.” Erika agreed.

Helena blushed lightly. “Well thank you regardless. Now, what else has Erika said about me?” She asked curiously.

“Well let’s see.” Erika’s father recalled. “That you are one of best in the field of herbology that she has ever seen for starters, a true prodigy.”

“You know, you might just be one of the first people to actually mention my talents in herbology before my curse breaking exploits outside of my own family and close friends.”

“That is the difference between knowing who is simply friends with you for your fame or wealth and who actually wants to know you for who you want.” Erika’s father explained. “In addition, I recall your mother was talent in herbology herself and has made quite the name for herself.”

“You never mentioned you knew Helena’s mother.” Erika realized.

“Well, I didn’t know her that well.” Erika’s father admitted. “She was just another one of my classmates in my year who I shared herbology with. She was our professor’s favorite by a long shot and the top student when it came to herbology. Our family has been acquainted with the Hearsts in the past before so I know what type of background she comes from and I got to say, the way she managed to follow her passions in the end is truly remarkable.” He then turned to Helena, “speaking of which, I hope you didn’t have to change too many of your plans to come here.��

“Not at all,” Helena assured him. “Usually, my family travels to Vermont to celebrate the holidays with my aunt and her family. However, this year she decided to surprise us and make the trip here instead. When my grandparents found out they decided to take on hosting since my home is much too small for all of those guests.”

“How delightful.” Erika’s father smiled. “I can see why Erika likes you, you’re such a kind spirit…you remind me a lot of my wife.”

“Helena is wonderful like that.” Erika added, seeming to attempt to find a way to change the subject. “If it wasn’t for her, Hogwarts would either be frozen into an icy landscape, empty halls with nothing but portrait prisons, or a museum of what once was filled with statues.”

“Ah yes.” Erika’s father continued, seeming to not stray away from his previous statement as he looked at the portrait above the fireplace and back towards his daughter and Helena, “Seems like you have the same kind yet brave heart that she had. She was the best woman I had ever met. And I hope that Erika can say the same about you. You two were made for each other.” He smiled warmly.

Erika rested her hand on Helena’s and smiled. “I think we are.”

Suddenly, to Helena’s surprise, Erika’s father stood up. “Helena would you like to join in on a little family tradition me and Erika have?” He invited.

“Sure!” Helena agreed. “What is it.”

“Well,” he began, “You see that candle on the mantle? Every December 24th, to honor the memory of my wife and Erika’s mother, we light it as a way of symbolizing her presence even though she is no longer with us. It’s a family tradition but since you’ve been dating my daughter for so long, your practically already family.”

“I’d be honored.” Helena agreed again as she stood up with Erika and walked towards the mantle. Erika’s father stood in between the two of them, in front of the candle.

Helena watched as Erika’s father pulled out his wand, and casted a candle lighting charm on the wick of the candle, creating a calming and glowing light that complimented the room.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #helena durazzo #hphm mc #harry potter hogwarts mystery #erika rath #hphm erika #erika rath x mc #happy holidays #Frederick Rath

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lifeofkaze · 1 year

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A Search for Balance

CHAPTER 28: THE VERNAL BALL

Find the masterlist with all chapters of this story here, the previous chapter here, and the next one here.

Tagging: @flareshogwarts

A/N: David Willows (in mention) belongs to @that-scouse-wizard

Hosting the Vernal Ball was the prerogative of the Quidditch League's reigning champion, so for the fifth time in a row, players and other important members of the business had found their way to Montrose.

As she walked up the driveway to the estate where the ball was being held, Lizzie took in her surroundings with wonder. The Magpies had outdone themselves this year; the path was flanked by blooming cherry trees, magical lights twinkling from between their branches, and the scent of lilac carried on the breeze coming from the nearby sea.

Dipping her head into her neck, Lizzie marvelled at the delicate beauty of the pink petals above her until a quiet scoff from Matthew made her smile disappear.

"Had you kept your dress, you could have fit right among them."

Lizzie waited until the couple overtaking them was out of earshot before she answered, "Too bad that I prefer the cherries."

Matthew glanced at her red dress, standing out from the soft pastel shades of the other guests. "Your taste has been somewhat questionable lately."

"Funny, I'm inclined to agree."

They completed the rest of their way in silence. Some journalists had gathered on the stairs leading up to the main entrance, but Lizzie paid them no mind and kept on walking. Having no choice but to follow her, Matthew flashed the cameras a smile, and stepped behind Lizzie into the bustling entry hall of the manor.

"Have you lost your mind?" he hissed as soon as they were inside. "You can't just ignore them like that."

"Looks like I can."

"Whatever has gotten into you today?"

"Some sense, methinks," Lizzie replied, waving at David Willows as he walked past with his fiancée. "These vultures don't deserve another second of my attention after everything they wrote. Now, how about you go and get us some champagne?"

The grim satisfaction Lizzie had felt after the little show she had put on for Matthew began to wane as the evening drew on. She knew most of the guests at least by sight, but despite all the familiar faces, Lizzie soon realised that she had no one to actually talk to. As she scanned the crowd for any sign of her teammates, she found herself looking in vain for one face, in particular; when it dawned on her that Orion might have chosen to stay away, a strange mix of disappointment and relief befell her.

Close by the open bar, Lizzie had seen her friend Andre Ewgu talking to a young wizard with a muscular frame and dark hair, but they were too enthralled in their conversation for her to go and join them. She briefly considered finding David Willows for a chat, but on second thought, introducing Matthew to her old friend wasn’t something Lizzie was actually too keen on.

Despite her act of defiance from earlier, Matthew had put on his best public face. He was all charms and smiles, chatting with the men and complimenting the women on their dresses. All the while, his hand kept pressing into the small of Lizzie's back, a constant reminder that he was always by her side. Eventually, her salvation came in the form of Erika Rath, who stood close to the grand piano with a group of people Lizzie didn't recognise.

"Jameson!" Erika called over the music, beckoning Lizzie over with a nod of her head. Once she and Matthew had made their way over, she gave Lizzie's dress a look. "Missed the dress code?"

"There was a last minute incident with her original dress," Matthew began, but Lizzie cut him off with a shrug.

"Thought it doesn't hurt to stand out every once in a while."

Erika, dressed in a pale blue jumpsuit and heels that made her stand taller than most men in the room, raised her eyebrows, but Lizzie thought that the corners of her mouth were twitching.

"True, seeing how your Wanderers have been doing lately."

Lizzie sighed deeply. "Whom are you telling?"

"She's right," said a big man with dark skin and a deep, rumbling voice. He must have noticed Lizzie's quizzical look because he extended one of his massive hands to her. "Gideon Gibson. I'm a scout for Puddlemere."

"Nice to meet you, Mr Gibson. I heard you made some good catches lately?"

Gibson smiled widely, presenting two rows of pearly white teeth. "Call me Gideon, please. And we have, you'll see for yourself soon enough. If your performance keeps on dropping like it has, we’ll have a shot at overtaking you."

Lizzie laughed along with him but didn't actually think it that funny. "We'll see about that, Gideon."

"I suspect we will. There's a lot to see in the future, actually. Your contract, for example. Word on the stands has been you're hard to get, but that you're still not signed by anyone? Surprising, really."

Lizzie frowned at his words, but before she could ask what he meant, Matthew said, "This is neither the time nor place to talk about contracts, especially not with the likes of you."

Gideon's and several other pairs of eyebrows shot up. "The likes of us?"

"Matthew…" Lizzie begged him, but he continued as if she hadn't spoken at all.

"People who have no say in the business. Should a club be interested in offering Lizzie a contract, we will talk to the executives and nobody else."

"Matthew, please."

"Is that so, McRae?" Erika said coolly. "Being the top-notch agent you are, you should know a scout's opinion holds its weight."

Matthew's look was icy. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job."

"Apparently you do, or Jameson would long have a new offer on the table."

"Matthew, please don't," Lizzie said imploringly as Matthew's eyes narrowed, but instead of directing his anger at Erika, he suddenly turned on her.

"You stay out of this," he snapped at Lizzie. "You don't even know what we're talking about."

"If the players talk, the agents shut up," Erika interrupted him curtly. "Old Quidditch rule. Not that I'd expect you to know. You're not one of us, after all."

Lizzie held her breath, her eyes flicking between Matthew's badly subdued rage and Erika's stoic calm.

"I don't have to listen to this," Matthew said brusquely. "Come on, Lizzie. We're leaving."

Lizzie automatically turned to do as she was told, but then she paused. Sensing her hesitation, Matthew put his hand between Lizzie's shoulder blades and pushed her along, but Erika called them back. Her voice was still calm, but now laced with an icy anger.

"If Jameson doesn't want to leave, she’s going to stay."

Feeling Erika's presence in her back, Lizzie held Matthew's infuriated gaze until he turned away with a derisive huff.

"Fine. Finish up your business and be quick about it. I expect you to come home right after."

"It might take a while."

Matthew bent towards her and lowered his voice to almost a growl. "Don't push me, Lizzie."

"Do you need me to show you the door?" Erika wanted to know.

With a last cold look at Lizzie, Erika and the rest of them, Matthew stood up straight, turned and pushed through the crowd towards the Apparition spots. When he was out of sight, Lizzie exhaled slowly. She turned to Erika with a grateful, if somewhat bashful, smile.

"Thank you, and sorry for Matthew. He's had a rough week. He's normally not like this."

"You don't need to make excuses for him. Everyone knows he's a pompous idiot."

The words in his defence were already on the tip of her tongue, but Lizzie swallowed them. Instead, she helped herself to another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. As their conversation resumed, the other scouts broke away one after the other, until eventually, Erika and Lizzie were the only ones left.

"It's been a while since we talked one-on-one," Erika noted.

"It's been a strange few weeks," Lizzie sighed, feeling the truth of her words to her core. "I don't know where my head is, with the team and the contract and all."

"And the wedding."

Lizzie felt a plummeting sensation in her stomach. "Of course."

They didn't speak as Erika looked around the room.

"How is she doing?" she suddenly asked, more quietly than before. Lizzie didn't need to be a Seer to know whom she was talking about. She shook her head.

"I don't know. Skye and I haven't spoken since I moved out."

"You did?"

"Yes, after the fight we had in Wimbourne. I suppose you know about that."

Erika raised her eyebrows. "Everybody knows."

"I wish it hadn't gone that way," Lizzie said sadly. "We both said some pretty nasty things."

"That's what she does, though. Dealing insults like Bludgers when she doesn't get her way. It's always been like that."

Humming in agreement, Lizzie looked to where Skye stood with her older brothers. She wore a sharply tailored suit over what looked like not much else, her dark hair with the blue ends twisted into a messy knot low in her neck. Ethan Parkin was nowhere to be seen, and it was almost shocking how relaxed all three of the Parkin children seemed.

"It's not good, your fight with her affecting your game so much," said Erika, who had followed Lizzie's gaze. Lizzie was surprised at the notion.

"It doesn't."

"Doesn't it?" Erika snorted. "I've known you for some years now, Jameson. You always let your emotions rule your performance, for better or for worse. You’re better than this."

"Why are you telling me this? You're working for the Magpies, I play for Wigtown. I'm competition."

"First and foremost, you're a good player. We used to be in different houses but trained together, anyway. I hate to see a talent like yours wasted."

Lizzie frowned. "Are we still talking about my performance?"

"Maybe." Erika fixed her with a serious look. "Have you never considered transferring?"

"Not in the past, no."

"And now?"

"I'm tired of all the fighting," Lizzie admitted tentatively. "It's exhausting and distracting, and no matter what we do, when it counts, we always fail." She shrugged helplessly. "Sometimes I wonder if Wigtown is still the right place for me."

"Good players stick with the fold. Great ones seize their chance when they see it. You have what it takes to be great, but if you stay on the safe side in Wigtown, your chance will pass you by."

It took Lizzie a moment to come up with a reply, but before she could, Erika tensed, emptied her champagne and braced her shoulders.

"Nice chat, Jameson. Think about what I said. Now excuse me, there's someone else I need to have a word with."

And with that, she was gone, pushing through the crowd toward where Gwenog Jones - captain of the Holyhead Harpies - had taken the place by Skye's side. Suddenly alone, Lizzie was unsure of what to do with herself. Her head was spinning with Erika's words, and she felt the strong urge to find someone who didn't want to talk about Quidditch.

Her eyes fell on Andre, who now stood alone and with an empty glass in hand. Taking two fresh drinks from a tray being offered to her, Lizzie made her way over to him. When Andre saw her, his face lit up, and he greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks.

"Would you look at this beauty? What a showstopper, if I may say so. Oh, and you're kind of pretty, too, Lizzie," he said, holding Lizzie at arm's length. He made a circle with his index finger, on which a big ring was glittering. "Come on, don't be shy."

Smiling to herself, Lizzie spun around herself, giving him a proper look at his creation. She had to take care not to stumble as she came to a halt; the champagne was stronger than she had thought. Lizzie giggled; it was a light and giggly sound, one she hadn't made in a while.

"Thank you so much for this gorgeous dress. I'm sorry I let it sit in my wardrobe for so long."

"A veritable crime," Andre tutted, his eyes scanning the crowd. "You know what else is a crime? How long my date is taking with the drinks."

"That's why I brought these."

"You're an angel," Andre sighed as Lizzie handed him one of the champagne flutes. "An impeccably dressed angel."

"You're the first to say anything along those lines tonight."

"Oh?" Andre wiggled his eyebrows as he drank. "I sense drama. Give it to me."

"Not tonight," Lizzie shook her head. "I just want to enjoy myself for a change. Looks like you are, anyway. You and the Puddlemere Keeper? How can your Pride heart take this?"

"Camp Pride until my dying day," Andre said, putting a hand over his heart. "But in this case, Portree might need to look the other way. I mean, have you seen his cheekbones? His eyes?"

"I'm usually too busy trying to get past his defence."

Andre flashed her a mischievous smile. "So am I."

When she spotted Andre's date making his way back towards them, Lizzie turned to go.

"Good luck with scoring, then. Let me know how it went."

"Oh, don't worry. I will," Andre laughed as he closed his arms around Lizzie. "It's been nice seeing my creation out and about instead of rotting among distasteful Quidditch shirts. Talking of which," he added more quietly, "I think there's someone else who might like to see it."

He discreetly nodded at the tall glass doors leading from the ballroom into the garden. Lizzie followed his eyes, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Orion's familiar figure breaking from the crowd and vanishing outside. She turned back to Andre with a doubtful look.

"I don't know about this, Andre."

"But I do. Just look at yourself, honey. I promise, if you're going to waste this dress, I'll be very cross with you."

With a grateful but somewhat shaky smile, Lizzie went with the nudge Andre gave her and slowly made her way towards where Orion had left the ball. When she reached the terrace doors, she hesitated, the tingling in her stomach so strong she had to press her hand against it. She stood there for another moment, the heat of the room in her back and the cool evening air on her face.

Then she shook her head, pulled herself together, and stepped out into the night.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #quidditch #orion amari #orion amari x mc #lizzie jameson #andre egwu #erika rath #skye parkin #balance series #search for balance #sfb

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catohphm · 9 months

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The Art of Friendship

Welcome! In this fic, Cato meets up with his friends Helena and Erika in the Hogwarts training grounds, where they end up having an important, constructive conversation about the values of friendship and teamwork. Happy reading! I hope you enjoy! 😊

Helena Durazzo belongs to my good friend @helenadurazzo

Clear skies and a fair temperature overlooked the Hogwarts as Cato exited the hall and set foot on the tame grass of the training grounds. He had been to the library to return a book that was due and went outside to take in the weekend's morning weather. It was early November coming in from early October. The week after Halloween was marked by a pattern of warm days after much rain the previous month.

Cato noticed two witches, a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw, come from around the corner, Helena Durazzo and Erika Rath. Helena has been close friends with him since childhood. Rath was the beater from Slytherin's team that Helena introduced to Cato as a friend. While athletic and in good physical shape, Erika was quiet, stoic and seen as intimidating by most of her peers. She was often misunderstood and the target of rumors by Skye Parkin. The truth was that while Erika was a guarded and reserved person, behind the shell lay a strong, loyal and devoted heart who was watchful over the people she trusted.

The Ravenclaw boy was first approached by Helena. “Hey, Cato! I hope the morning is going well for you.” she happily greeted him.

“Hey, Lena!” Cato replied. “It is! I returned a library book on quick notice. Madam Pince is perhaps the most uptight librarian I’ve met.”

“Yep, she is. With her, due books are better off taken back to the library on time. I wouldn’t want to cause problems for her either.” Helena agreed.

Cato asked his best friend how she and Erika were doing. “What about you and Rath? How’s the day for you two turning out?”

Helena nodded. “Good, Cato. We were coming back from some Quidditch practice that me and Erika were doing one-on-one.”

The two witches began dating each other sometime after they became friends. Both were beaters of their respective Quidditch teams and bonded through their one-on-one training. Eventually romantic feelings developed between Erika and Helena.

“Hey, Erika.” He greeted the Slytherin beater. She was clad in her usual green athletic outfit. “Good day, Cato. I hope you have been taking care of yourself. Ravenclaws like you and Helena deserve a break as much as any student or quidditch player.”

He answered with a confident smile. “I’ve been trying my best. Aside from dropping off that book, which I can’t say counts, not much on my plate this weekend.”

“That’s good to hear, Cato.” Erika affirmed. “I hope you and Helena have been too.” he said.

While Erika nodded, the Ravenclaw girl commented “Her training has its challenges, but we look out for each other and rest a bit if we have to.”

The Slytherin beater often trained on her own away from the others. Perhaps before she was old enough to join the Quidditch team, she started honing her skills with the bat. They had gotten to the point where she had an impressive command over the bludger. Fortunately, the training dummies Erika repeatedly dealt punishment to were very sturdy and took a lot of beating. Anyone who didn’t know her and witnessed her practicing the role of a beater could immediately understand why she had a reputation as distant and unsettling.

Cato knew this as a regular member of the Ravenclaw quidditch team. He was also familiar with the rumors that Skye spread about Erika which attempted to label her as an imposing bully. He never believed rumors easily and specially took Skye with a grain of salt because of her hotshot, troublemaking behavior. Cato was slightly nervous when he and Erika first met, but he still gave her a chance because Helena introduced her to him. They were both protective of Helena. However Erika was more steadfast in this than Cato was. This sometimes got to her.

"Those bludgers are very unpredictable." Cato remarked. "I hope Helena doesn't end up in the hospital wing from being hit by one."

Erika took it a bit heavily. "Like I would ever let that happen, Cato. What makes you think I would let Helena get hurt on my watch?"

"Well it's a completely different story when a bludger strikes someone. Even with Skel-e-gro, they're still going to be out for a week." Cato replied.

"It is not necessary for you to tell me what I already know." Erika touted.

Cato squinted his eyes and looked, waving his hand. "I know how hard you hit those targets with those bludgers. What's not to say one of them hits some bloke just passing through?"

"We never practice around bystanders!" The Slytherin beater exclaimed with an annoyed look.

Helena crossed her arms as she witnessed the two argue with a mix of seriousness and concern in her face.

Cato put his hands on his hips. "I care about others around me when I practice. This is why Madam Hooch wants nice, clean games, Erika!"

"I do not hurt people during matches on purpose. Quidditch is a high action sport at a rapid pace. The referee does not want players to cheat or deliberately harm others. Most injuries happen during the matches because it's unpredictable." Erika explained in a somewhat heated tone.

Helena attempted to intervene. "Did we really come out here to argue over something not worth the headache? You two need to take deep breaths and calm down."

"Then what about when you struck a bludger that one time at-" Cato started in a heated tone before he caught himself. He shook his head before he cupped his hand over his face, realizing he had made a scene in front of his best friend and Erika's date.

"Look at you. You're in a mess." Erika told Cato with concern.

In a somber voice, he apologized. "I'm sorry, both of you. I carried it on."

"I must take some responsibility too for this." Erika stated. "My mistake was starting this. I shouldn't have treated your word too harshly."

Helena reassured her childhood friend. "Cato, it's okay. When Erika mentioned that we care a lot about safety when we train, she meant that first thing."

"Yeah." Erika affirmed with a nod and small smile. "For years I have been studying the art of a beater. The safety of the match is of equal precedence to winning, scoring points with the quaffle or catching the Golden Snitch.

Adding on, Helena agreed with her date's words. "Exactly, we care about the people up in the stands too. They are our fans who cheer our teams on and support us during the match."

"Both you and Erika are right. Some of our fans are our friends too.They may be players whose teams are not in the match, or don't play Quidditch at all. No matter what, they all deserve our equal respect."

“Exactly!” Helena exclaimed in response to Cato.

Erika put her hand on his shoulder. “Cato, I forgive you for keeping it on.”

“Same to you, Erika. I’m glad all of us are on the same page here.” he said as he shook hands with her.

In a satisfied voice, she remarked “Me too, Cato. No matter what, it’s unconditional - even if Slytherin is playing against Ravenclaw, my love for Helena will never drop at the toss of the quaffle to start the match.”

“That’s very true, Erika. It all comes down to the houses we were sorted into as first years. While the Sorting Hat allows us to have a say when sitting on the stool, most of the time he picks our house based on our personality and life experiences as kids.”

Cato nodded. “Quidditch is a sport too, it is meant to bring people together through athletic competition. One should not assume that the members of a team hold something against the rival team off the pitch. It is called being a good sport."

“I have always been a believer in good sportsmanship.” Erika related. “That is why I did not like Skye trying to spread rumors about me. I do not stand for players using the games as an excuse to talk rubbish and get at people they have problems with. Drama is not how I enjoy Quidditch."

“Me neither.” Cato agreed. “I prefer to stay away from that too. I will listen to rumors and anything going around, but it would be unwise for me to assume them to be true.”

Helena chimed in. “Fights and gossip are not my thing as well. When stuff stirs up, I like to go to the greenhouses and work with the plants to get a break from the hustle.”

Cato smiled and noted “We’re all in it for being a good team.”

“That’s right, Cato.” Erika said. “You can always count on me to keep both myself and Helena safe while training or in a match. I do my best.”

“Me and Cato have been friends since we were very little. Our parents get along well and we spend time at each other’s homes. We look out for each other like siblings.” The Ravenclaw witch explained.

Erika nodded “What I said also includes you, Cato. Both you and Helena are part of the team. I put my mates first above anything else.

He shared the sentiment. “The safety of my friends is also important to me, Erika. I would do anything I can for their well being.”

“That’s good, Cato. Remember though to be aware of your limits. Only do what you know. There is no need to make promises you can’t keep."

“She’s right.” Helena told her best friend. “We are not expected to take on everyone’s problems. There is only so much we can do. It’s important for everyone to understand.”

“Indeed.” said Cato. “As a Ravenclaw, I can say that there is no way we can know everything. A bloke can be knowledgeable on many subjects but not all of them. That’s just how the world works.”

Erika agreed. “Correct. That’s why teams exist. We specialize in different abilities and compliment each other to achieve our goals. Take quidditch as an example. There are different people who are good at chasing, beating, keeping and seeking. We all practice for our own roles on the team. However, communication, awareness and respect amongst the players are also essential to being successful on the pitch."

“Well spoken, Erika.” Helena said to her as she smiled.

“I feel we have reached a new understanding as friends.” Cato declared.

Erika felt the same. "I think so too."

"I'm with you both on this. We know that we can rely on and trust each other." finished Helena.

Cato was confident. "That's for sure!" He said happily. "If Sky or anyone else tries to push rumors about you, Erika, I'll debunk their codswallop."

"You will not have to do that." She assured me with a smile. "Both of you have my back so I will not listen to their rumors."

"For every enemy you make, there's always going to be a friend." said Helena. "There will always be some people who will take a dislike to us. Adding on to what me and Cato said before, their problems are not our own. We should place our own happiness first, ours and of those we care about."

They all nodded in agreement.

"I'm glad to have both of you as friends." a happy Cato remarked to Helena and Erika.

"Me too, always!" chimed the Ravenclaw witch.

"Glad to be with you, Cato." affirmed Erika.

Helena then had an idea. "Perhaps to celebrate, how about we all go as group to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer the next time we go to Hogsmeade?"

"I'd love that, Lena!" Cato said excitedly. "Wish me luck trying to resist that." he laughed.

Erika was also in. "I would be all down for that. Sharing a butterbeer with my friends."

"You deserve it." Cato then told her.

Helena was eager in her tone. "So it's all settled then."

"I appreciate it. Thank you both. Really."

"Anytime!" returned Cato. "You're always welcome to join us, Erika."

As the trio started to walk back into the castle, Helena pleasantly said "You two are among the people I can always trust and confide in fully. For that alone, I'm grateful."

The small group of friends conversed together as they left the training grounds, looking forward to their get-together at the Three Broomsticks.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery mc #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery oc #hphm oc #cato reese #helena durazzo #erika rath

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