#hphm slytherin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hphmmatthewluther · 8 months

Text

Threads of Silver - Chapter 4: Feast or Famine

I'm back! The previous chapter can be found over here!

This chapter features characters from @camillejeaneshphm , @nikyiscreepy and from @endlessly-cursed !

Taglist (please ask to be added/removed!): @camillejeaneshphm @endlessly-cursed @that-scouse-wizard @catohphm @gaygryffindorgal @potionboy3

In the dull orange light of the fires that surrounded the entrance to the Thane of Cawdor’s castle, Lachlann tried to readjust his clothes so they’d be less constricting for what felt like the hundredth time. It didn’t work. He and Rowena had only had a single day to get used to the tower’s new location before they were off on horseback to get here on time, leaving especially early so that they would have time to drop Helena off with Rowena’s friend, Helga Hufflepuff. They did not stay long, but he overheard that she too had decided to find an apprentice. It appeared that Rowena had started something of a fad when she ventured to Ireland, though of course she had had to wait until Lachlann turned eighteen for him to begin learning magic with her. In the time in between, it seemed, such ideas had caught on with those that knew Rowena. He had met those working under Godric already, and was now slightly curious as to whether or not this Salazar person had done something similar.

A loud creaking sound rang through the night air as the great doors before them opened, allowing Lachlann and Rowena to see into the castle itself. The grand structure still seemed incredibly dark and imposing in spite of the many lights that were dotted across the walls and courtyard, guests all around seemingly all too happy to enter the place, which to Lachlann looked almost nightmarish with how it loomed over them.

Rowena seemed to understand her apprentice’s concerns. “Worry not, Lam. While the Thane’s castle certainly doesn’t present its owner as benevolent, he will not want to look too bloodthirsty in front of his guests, especially since he’d like to distract from Helga’s absence.” Lachlann nodded along as they ventured across the courtyard, following the other guests. He was keeping an eye out for Godric or perhaps the Osadas as well, while also listening to Rowena’s advice. He got the strangest feeling that he’d almost certainly need it.

“Now, you’re an apprentice and ex-serf, and so some may not necessarily be welcoming to you. As long as you remain close to me and remain dutiful, deferential and polite to all, we shouldn’t run into any problems. Understand?”

“Yes, Milady.” Lachlann confirmed. “And that’s even if the changelings are here, understand?”

“Yes, Mi-” he stopped to ask if he had heard her correctly, but before he could they had made it into the hall where the feast was being held, being briefly greeted by the Thane before entering, who couldn’t quite seem to meet Rowena’s eyes, despite towering above her and being donned in ceremonial armour.

But the Thane wasn’t what Lachlann’s mind was on.Huge tables were set up across the large space, about as large as the inside of a church, with plates and knives carefully set out, as well as enough space to socialise before sitting down to eat. There was a singular table on the raised part of the hall, which stretched across most of the area, that seemed to have the most ornate chairs and tablecloths. Something else caught Lachlann’s eye as they walked into the room. Most of the knives and plates were either wooden or iron, except for three on the far right of the high table, which glistened in the candlelight in an all too familiar manner.

“They’re here.” Lachlann said bluntly, Rowena nodding. Her face didn’t show any sign of emotion, however, a surprise to Lachlann seeing as she would be eating with the very people who sent someone to kill her. When she heard someone call her name, however, she rolled her eyes.

“Ah, Lady Ravenclaw, I’m so glad you decided to come. And Lachlann! Wonderful to see you again! Luxia, dear, this is who I was telling you about the other day.” Godric laughed, walking over to the two with a woman with dark hair in a red dress by his side, who Lachlann assumed must be Luxia, as well as the Osadas, who both bowed to Rowena and gave a brief nod to Lachlann.

“Lord Gryffindor. Lady Thorne.” Rowena said, bowing in return and trying not to grit her teeth, “And how wonderful to see Gabriel and Rousalie too. Will the baron be joining us too?”

“Yes, though father and mother are with-”

The crowd seemed to be growing quiet and moving away from the door as a group neared it. “That’s what I was going to mention, ‘Wena…he’s just arrived.” Godric sighed, Luxia looking slightly nervous as she too gazed over at the door.

The man gave the briefest of nods to the Thane, who bowed and smiled as he held the door open for him and his entourage. He had dark hair and a short beard in the same shade, and wore resplendent green robes, lined with a material that looked silver, but most likely wasn’t the real thing. What was real, however, was the staff he held in his right hand, that thudded against the stone floor as he walked. His green eyes flitted across the room, Lachlann following them whilst everyone else was seemingly entranced by him. They scanned his seat at the high table, the silver crockery, the many guests, Godric, Rowena, and for the briefest moment he seemed to smirk at Lachlann before completing his venture into the room, the noise returning as both he and the Thane began to socialise, his servants closing the doors to the hall behind them.

“Lord Slytherin, I presume?” Lachlann asked aloud. The Osadas had stepped back a little, and Rousalie nodded as if answering the question.

“Yes, and there’s our parents, just there.” She pointed across to the two people at the edge of Salazar’s entourage; both looked to be in their mid thirties with a different form of Regalia compared to those around them, which Lachlann supposed made sense seeing as they were from abroad. “Goodness, a Scottish feast, how exciting. I wonder how it may differ from English ones…”

Gabriel sighed. “Would you stop pointing? It’s improper and you might attract them over.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Rousalie asked.

“It might be!” he hissed back, Lachlann feeling slightly awkward. “If people see us on the opposite side of mother and father-”

But alas, Gabriel’s worst fear came true. Salazar turned and began walking towards them, entourage included. Seemingly knowing that Lachlann would be more than a little concerned by this, Rowena turned around and nodded softly. There wasn’t much more to say. He’d either sink or swim at this point.

He watched as Salazar approached both Rowena and Godric, bowing as well as kissing Rowena’s hand. He was the only one who saw Godric roll his eyes when that happened. The Thane of Cawdor also bowed, before slipping away to “prepare for the feast”, as if he had noticed the tension in the air. Lachlann tried to reassure himself. It wasn’t like anyone would be wanting to talk to him specifically, after all. He felt far worse for the Osadas, who suddenly found the floor very interesting to look at in the face of their parents.

By this point, some of the entourage had left Salazar’s side, leaving just Baron and Baroness Osada, Salazar himself, and two women who looked about Lachlann’s age.

“Lord Gryffindor, Lady Thorne, and…” he paused for a moment as he stared at Rowena. “It’s so wonderful to see you again, Lady Ravenclaw. The realm of magic simply hasn’t been the same since the last time you graced us with your presence.”

“You’re much too kind, Lord Slytherin.” Rowena replied stiffly, “Returning to being a full-time witch is something I have been eager to do for quite some time.”

“Indeed, indeed…curious how quickly you’ve been able to do so, considering…well, I thought that you must have offered your services to a noble or king, especially when I heard you’d changed address. But no, you’re still up in the Highlands, correct?”

“Correct.” Rowena said, bluntly. Godric quickly stepped in before she could say anything else, however.

“Yes, it’s a truly lovely spot she’s chosen, I was over there just recently with the Osadas. They are truly wonderful travelling companions, Baron Osada. They are exceptionally well-behaved and dutiful.”

“I’m so glad you found them that way.” the Baron replied, bowing to Godric. “We are so grateful for your tutelage of them. What an invaluable endeavour.”

Godric shrugged, smiling. “Well, I cannot take all of the credit, Alas. The idea was Lady

Ravenclaw’s, of course…”

“Indeed it was.” Salazar said, smirking, his eyes once again flitting to look at Lachlann for the briefest of moments, before turning back just as the Thane of Cawdor approached. “Ah, it is time for us to take our seats at the high table.” He turned to the rest of the group, with Lachlann, Gabriel and Rousalie all unable to directly make eye contact. “You all should be escorted to your seats in due time. I don’t believe you’ve met my own apprentices, from the Kingdom of Francia, no less. Lady Brunhilde of Cologne, and Lady Mathilde of Coventry, allow me to introduce you to the children of Baron and Baroness Osada, and…Lady Ravenclaw’s apprentice. If you’ll excuse me…” he said, bowing slightly and walking away, his staff tapping against the castle floor, as if signalling the other guests to make way.

Perhaps, in hindsight, Lachlann should have paid more attention to who else was on the high table. But it now fell to him and the Osadas to greet Salazar’s apprentices. Rousalie, with surprisingly quick speed, got her introduction out of the way very quickly, graciously bowing before taking a step back, even gesturing to Gabriel as if to rub it in. Ignoring her, Gabriel stepped forward, and by instinct Lachlann did too. He forced himself to look away from the ground and up at the two women.

The one Gabriel bowed in front of was the taller of the two, and by a decent degree taller than a lot of others in the hall, including Gabriel, but stopping a few inches short from Lachlann’s height. She wore an elegant deep purple dress in the same style as Salazar’s clothing, her hair a deep orange, masterfully styled, and her face unmoving as Gabriel bowed slightly before her, extending his hand. Lachlann tried his best to copy the motion for the woman before him (thankfully Rowena had taught him for moments like this). Unlike the woman in the purple dress, however, the woman before Lachlann wasn’t expressionless at all, and seemed to be making just as many observations as he was. It gave him a modicum of relief.

Judging by the order Lord Slytherin had introduced the two, he assumed that this must be Lady Mathilde of Coventry. She also had incredibly well-styled hair, though hers was blonde, and she was much shorter in height than Lady Brunhilda. Her dress was a similar shade of green to Salazar’s, though perhaps a shade one way or the other, and happened to be adorned with silver linings across the fabric, wrapping around the tightly fitted upper half of the dress, giving her a very sleek look despite the many, many layers that presumably made up the dress. Her green eyes looked down upon him, and he dared to look back up. She remained quiet, but it was clear that she had something on her mind as she looked at the group all the same.

***

Persephone looked between Merula and Matthew for a moment. “So both your ancestors ended up meeting each other a thousand years ago? Boy, no wonder you two got wrapped up in all of that magical destiny sort of thing.” she chuckled.

Merula rolled her eyes at the interruption. “Oh please. Once you’re at the thousand year mark the chances are you’re going to find an awful lot of ancestors wandering about the place. It’s no surprise that many of ours just so happened to come across each other, it’s just that it got recorded because our ancestors are fairly important people.” she said, proudly.

Mayson sighed. “Aw man, that doesn’t mean you're technically a Baroness, does it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kowalksi.” Merula chuckled. “Possibly. There are several contenders for where the title should be, myself being one of them, though of course I don’t mind too much. My fame will come from what I do, not because my ancestors managed to pass a title down the family line.”

Persephone raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like you, Miss Fourth-Generation-Slytherin. Anyway, when are we getting to this gossip? So far all we’ve had is some weird cutlery.”

“And the general tension between the founders, um…” Matthew pointed out. “It’s crazy to think we know them now as close friends after hearing they acted like this around each other, trying to one-up each other with their apprentices.”

“Well, we’re getting into it now. You want gossip? Fine.” Merula huffed, flicking through her notes once again. “Hm…being a Baroness would be pretty cool…a-anyway… ”

***

Even now, Lachlann could smell the food being prepared in the castle kitchens, the smell beginning to waft in from the doors. The others didn’t seem too bothered by it; perhaps because they had had meals like these all their lives, and so it provided an extra difficulty when it came to socialising like this. Still, he remained determined to represent Lady Ravenclaw in a proper manner. He and Gabriel rose from their bows and watched as Brunhilda and Mathilde both curtseyed in return, the silver that adorned Mathilde catching Lachlann’s eye. He figured this was a result of the changeling’s claim of control over silver only extending to the Isles.

But right now wasn’t the time to focus on silver, even if the changelings were here at the feast. Maybe it would come up with Brunhilda and Mathilde, maybe it wouldn’t. He knew full well the conversation likely wouldn’t be led by him.

The woman Gabriel had bowed before, Lady Brunhilda, spoke first. “How truly wonderful it is to see you all. It is always a pleasure when you visit from your home kingdom, and I am delighted to hear you will be staying in these Isles on a more regular basis.” she said, the words sounding complimentary, but Lachlann sensed no real emotion behind them.

Gabriel, too, sensed the detachment, but seemingly chose not to comment. “Indeed, Bruna, it truly will be a delight for both myself and my sister.” he said. Bruna seemed to glare at Gabriel with some semblance of annoyance for a moment before quickly returning to her blank mask. Rousalie’s face, meanwhile, briefly glowered with anger at being pulled in before composing herself.

“My brother speaks truthfully. It is always a varied experience whenever we are invited to a feast anywhere in these Isles. There are simply so many slight differences in the way the many kingdoms do their feasts!” she exclaimed, smiling.

Bruna smiled as well, but it seemed hollow. “I wholeheartedly agree. It’s much the same in the various provinces in France, wouldn’t you agree, Mathilde?” she droned, looking to her companion.

Lachlann turned to look at her, and was surprised to see that she’d been looking at him. “Oh, of course, Bruna, dear.” she said, her face still in that observant expression. “We’ve both been to so many of these feasts…” she said, her eyes now fixed on Lachlann. “But this is the first time Lady Ravenclaw has come to a feast with an apprentice.”

All eyes in the group were now on Lachlann, Rousalie once again wordlessly gesturing, this time for him. “That’s correct, milady.” he began, though sensed immediately that it’d take a little more than that. “Lachlann Doherty, of Wexford.”

“Wexford, did you say?” Mathilde repeated, her eyebrow slightly raised. “I’ve not heard of that province. Would it happen to be on the other island?”

“That’s correct, milady, by the South East Coast.” Lachlann confirmed. “Though, I suppose the accent gives it away too.” he said as well, unsure where that admission had come from.

Mathilde’s mouth formed a small smile, Bruna continuing to watch on without reaction. “Yes, it does.” she chuckled. “But of course, that’s not why you’ve been the subject of a few rumours.”

“Rumours, Milady?”

“Quite so,” Bruna interjected, “About how despite Lady Ravenclaw devising the idea of apprentice mages, she was the last to acquire one. And while the other sorcerers of her standing took their protégés from their close friends who shared the gift…she went all the way to the South of Éire, only to return with…a peasant.”

“A former peasant.” Rousalie pointed out, sparing Lachlann from thinking about making the interruption. “Or do you prefer “serf”, Lachlann?”

He blinked a couple of times. “Either’s fine.” he blurted out, clearing his throat before continuing, “It’s not exactly something I can hide about myself, after all.”

Mathilde hummed in response, her fingers tapping together. “Fascinating, you seem remarkably frank about your former status…you consider yourself to be among your peers, now?”

Lachlann shrugged, praying that he understood what she’d asked properly. “Well, in terms of us all being apprentices, yes. Though I’m not gonna pretend I’ve had as much experience as any of you, be it in magic or in doing whatever it is we do at feasts.”

Mathilde blinked. Then she smiled. Then she brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a chuckle, which seemed to surprise Gabriel, Rousalie, even the stoic Bruna. “Worry not, I do not blame you for not knowing what it is we do at feasts. After all, sometimes I have similar questions myself at events like these.” The others in the group then took terms politely agreeing with Mathilde’s comments, Lachlann’s eyes being able to glance over at the group preparing to sit at the high table. He saw the Osadas, Godric, Luxia and Rowena on the left side of the Thane, and Salazar and three others on the right. He didn’t recognise them at first, but then realised that these were the ones dining with silverware. There were two who looked to be in their late 20s and seemed to be a couple, and a woman that somehow seemed younger but not by much. But before he could examine them any further, people started moving around the hall.

“The feast is beginning.” Gabriel explained. “Well, technically it already has, but the actual feast portion of the night. You understand.” He confirmed. Lachlann nodded in return as the tables were organised and plates were positioned on top. A servant appeared, gesturing for them to follow, but before he could walk forward, he was stopped by Gabriel. “You’re doing well, friend, but…be wary around those two. They are fully devoted to Lord Slytherin, and they say that-” but he stopped as Bruna and Mathilde walked past, and he was forced to walk along with them.

They were guided to their tables, and ended up passing by Rowena’s group as a result. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in a way that suggested “Did it go well?”. Lachlann returned the expression in a way that suggested “I think so, at least it has so far.”, aware that there would be conversation during the feast as well as whatever followed it. He tried to calm his nerves, his eyes once again scanning the room. It was during this that he noticed Mathilde and Bruna were talking in hushed voices to Salazar and the three others. The Lord noticed him, but merely smiled, and gestured for the women to rejoin the group before talking with the others on his side of the table, presumably the changelings.

Two others made eye contact with Lachlann from that group. Mathilde, only briefly, and the youngest of the changelings, who gave him a smirk that felt oddly familiar. He sat down with the others, next to Rousalie and opposite Mathilde. The younger Osada also noticed the woman. She had a purple dress, though of a different shade to Bruna, as well as silver linings that absolutely had to be the real thing.

“I’m not sure what family they are, either.” Rousalie whispered, smiling still. “They certainly seem important, though. Do any of us present have an idea as to their family?”

Gabriel shrugged, as did Bruna and Mathilde, though theirs seemed almost in unison, as if practised. Lachlann wondered if that was something they taught nobles, how to shrug properly. He fought the urge to smile about it. “Ah well,” Rousalie continued. “It doesn’t concern us right now.”

Before any more could be said, however, the food was brought out. More meat than Lachlann had ever seen was piled onto the plates, alongside rich-looking bread and more. It was definitely the most amount of food Lachlann had ever had on a plate, dwarfing even what Rowena gave him. He looked around, and everyone else seemed to be waiting to eat, looking at the high table. The Thane stood up and raised his goblet, a wicked grin on his face. “Welcome, esteemed guests! We are honoured to have so many of the nobility in our presence here in the Highlands, and I am sure his Majesty of this fine region would agree. And so, in thanks for his wise leadership allowing this meeting between those of a magical persuasion and those who are otherwise. To His Majesty the King!”

Everyone in the room raised their own drinks, repeating the toast, before the feast properly began. Lachlann picked up his utensils, his eyes still on the high table. Yes, he was very much hungry, but there was simply so much in front of him, he wondered where on earth he was supposed to start. It was then that Mathilde cleared her throat.

“Something about the Thane’s speech?” she asked, a small smile present on her face as she spun her fork on her food.

Lachlann shrugged. “I suppose a little. It was odd to see him praising the King so much, since I heard the Thane doesn’t like him.”

Mathilde rolled her eyes in a lighthearted way. “Oh, but that’s precisely why. He’s wanted to try and break from the King for a while now, he’s just got to keep up appearances for a bit until the time is right. But you don’t need to worry about all that.” She leant back a little on her seat. “Now, you ought to eat. Your food will get cold.”

He nodded, focusing on the large meal before him. He took a hold of his spoon and started eating what was before him. It wasn’t just food that looked rich. It was the most filling thing he’d ever tasted, a single bite or two of the red meat completely wiping away the stomachache. He had some of the bread, hoping it would be slightly less rich, but no such luck. A few minutes in and he already felt full, and he’d only eaten about half of what was on his plate. He tried one more bite, and it felt as if his stomach was fit to burst. He wasn’t sure how rude a gesture it was to not eat everything on his plate, and so decided to be very careful about pushing his bowl forward, the food left inside hidden to an extent by the goblets in front of it. But, as fate would have it, this would turn out to be the least of his problems.

At first, he thought it was the richness of the food that was causing him to feel a little unwell. But soon, it became clear that the pain was in more than just his stomach. It was as if it was reaching out across his body. He felt sweaty, his head felt numb, it became very difficult to breathe. Once more, he’d observed everything in the hall. He saw Mathilde, her eyes anywhere but him for some reason, Bruna whom she was talking to, who also seemed to act like he didn’t exist all of a sudden. The only one who seemed concerned was Gabriel, who he saw mouth words that he didn’t hear. That was when Lachlann realised his hearing had muffled. The world seemed to swirl around him, and his thoughts were on how disappointed Lady Ravenclaw was going to be in him because of whatever this was…at least until he saw the woman in the dress smirking once more. And he knew where he’d seen it. The last time his life was in danger.

“You.”

Suddenly Lachlann was not in the hall of the Thane of Cawdor, though he heard distorted voices from the feast in the misty air. Instead, he was in a clearing in a dark forest that seemed to be shrinking in on him, the trees covering more and more of the grass. The only other person there stood opposite, looking down upon him.

“Me.” Betwixt chuckled, her eyes now a pale white without irises. “Typical peasantry, always surprised when a changeling they met in armour rocks up in a dress. It’s so fun watching them wrap their tiny little minds around the ways of the Fae.”

Lachlann scowled as he lay on the ground, trying to regain his composure. “...Should’ve known. I just thought you would have spent some time sulking after I threw you in that puddle.”

Betwixt rolled their eyes, though without the pupils it was a little hard to see. “Please. I likely would have sulked a little longer, but when I heard you would be accompanying the thief to this feast, my parents and I agreed that it was simply too good an opportunity to miss.”

Lachlann blinked several times, the mist getting just a little bit thicker. “So, what? You poisoned my food?”

“Do you never listen?!” Betwixt seethed, dusting down her dress, “We are royalty! As if we would ever poison someone ourselves. We simply spoke to Lord Slytherin and he agreed to have his specialist handle it. We’ve used the services of his acolytes in the past, after all.”

“Right…” Lachlann sighed, his mind swimming as he tried to get to his feet, though this time it was not from numbness, but from curiosity as to who had poisoned him. As he thought about it longer, the answer became clearer. “And killing me does what, other than avenging your soggy clothes?”

Betwixt did not show an outward reaction to that jab. “Simple.” she smirked, her skin becoming purple and her hair going from brown to white, “Without you, Lady Ravenclaw will once again be unable to operate as a full-time witch. From there, it shall be far easier to reclaim our stolen silver.”

“You stole the silver first, as far as I’m concerned.”

“It was given to us through Fae law, something you clearly know nothing about!”

“You caught some Lord exaggerating, congratulations, it doesn’t give you the right to-”

“Would you be quiet!” She bellowed, running her hands through her hair. “When I use Legilimency on those who are dying on my orders, it is not for them to insult me! It is for them to plead for their worthless mortal lives! You are doomed! As we speak, the poison works through your veins, causing so much pain that your mind is obscured by a cold, foul mist…until of course, death strikes.” she gestured to the forest. “That’s why you can only hear my voice. I am here, but the fog in your mind prevents you from seeing any more.”

Lachlann blinked. “...but I can see you. It’s not even all that foggy.”

Betwixt looked like she was about to continue, but stopped in her tracks. “N-No, you can’t.”

“...I’m certain I can.”

“No you can’t! The poison is clouding your mind, you can’t see, you’re frozen in place...”

Lachlann took a step forward. “I can see you, and…” he turned his head, noticing a path leading out of the forest, towards what looked like Ravenclaw Tower. “I think I see a way out.”

Betwixt laughed in spite of herself. “No, no, no!” she said, denying what was happening in front of her as Lachlann started walking forward. “You can’t move! You can’t see the trees! You can’t see the way out! That’s not how this works!” she screeched, stamping her foot on the grassy floor.

“Ah, typical nobility.” Lachlann chuckled as he walked past her, “Something doesn’t go your way, and you can’t wrap your head around it. Who was the blind one again?”

“Stop!” yelled Betwixt, uselessly, “Come back this instant! You’re doing it wrong, you damn peasant!”

Lachlann simply waved as he walked towards the Tower, the trees thinning along with the fog. It was still cold, and he still felt awful, but his mind was clear. He looked to the sky, and lightning came down over the trees. There was a flash, and the forest was gone. He opened his eyes, scanning the hall yet again. He was lying on the stone floor of the hall, with Rowena on one side and Rousalie on the other, Gabriel squatting nearby as well. All eyes were on him.

“Oh, Merlin…” Rowena said, her voice betraying how relieved she was.

“Aah! He’s still alive!” Rousalie exclaimed, backing away in shock.

“Yeah, I can see that, Rou,” Gabriel sighed. “How did…”

“Wena, just where did you find this boy?” Godric chuckled, Luxia holding his arm and the Osadas near him, all looking on in surprise.

Lachlann sat himself up, still feeling numb and sweaty. He looked at the high table, at the Thane of Cawdor who seemed at a loss for words, at Salazar who simply glowered at him, at the changelings who were behind all this (and seemed to be having trouble keeping their chosen forms stable). Then he looked at the table he’d fallen from, at Bruna and Mathilde. The former was trying and failing to keep expressionless, her lips parted slightly. The latter was glaring directly at him, held back by Bruna as if she was afraid Mathilde was going to leap over the table to get at him. Lachlann simply smiled.

“A-Apologies…” he said, grimacing in pain, “...As a former serf, I’m afraid I’m ignorant on the proper way to be poisoned.”

***

Merula paused for a moment, yawning. “Blimey, how long have I been going…Matthew, you’ve got one of those muggle wrist-clock things…what time is it?”

Matthew checked his watch. “It’s…ah…late.” He sighed. “Past midnight, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“You can’t stop now!” Persephone exclaimed. “We were just getting to the good stuff! I wanted to know what everyone was going to do next!”

Merula sighed. “You were the one who wanted us to go to bed in the first place, Palerosine.”

“Sparks is right,” Mayson said, “You’re the best History of Magic teacher I’ve ever had. You actually made it…y’know…interesting! I actually want to learn more for the first time!”

Merula rolled her eyes. “I know you’re playing to my ego, Kowalski…but that’s exactly how I operate, as I’m sure Matthew must have told you. Alright, I’ll tell you about the rest of the night. You’d better get an O on this report, is all I’ll say. The both of you.” she ordered, pointing to Mayson and Persephone.

“Oh, I imagine we will, don’t worry.” Persephone smiled. “Also…did you just call him Matthew?” she asked, pointing to the only Ravenclaw in the room.

“What? N-No. Did I? No. Don’t be silly.” she said dismissively, fishing through her notes and hiding her blushing face. “Ah, here we are, let’s…let’s keep going.” she said, quickly looking at Matthew, who smiled back at her. She blushed a little more, before finding what she was looking for. “Here we are…Lachlann makes his snarky quip, and then…”

#hp founders era #founders' era #hphm #lachlann doherty #mathilde of coventry #bruna of cologne #gabriel osada #rousalie osada #godric gryffindor #rowena ravenclaw #salazar slytherin #sovereign betwixt #luxia thorne

12 notes · View notes