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#katriona cassiopeia
lifeofkaze · 5 months
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Trick or Treat 🎃
I hope you had a Halloween as gorgeous as yourself! Can I interest you in a 3-sentence-horror-story?
Katriona Cassiopeia always thought she knew her friend Lizzie. There was nothing about her that she couldn't take. But going on a coffee date with Lizzie for the first time, the horror of the syrup counter would stay with KC forever.
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carewyncromwell · 1 year
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“My father wasn’t around -- (My father wasn’t around) I swear that I’ll be around for you. I’ll do whatever it takes; I’ll make a million mistakes; I’ll make the world safe and sound for you... We’ll come of age with our young nation -- We’ll bleed and fight for you... We’ll make it right for you! If we lay a strong enough foundation, We’ll pass it on to you -- we'll give the world to you, And you'll blow us all away... Someday, someday...”
~“Dear Theodosia (cover)” by Regina Spektor and Ben Folds
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partially inspired by a conversation with @dat-silvers-girl​​ // featuring a quick reference to Katriona Cassiopeia @kc-and-co​​ 💜
x~x~x~x
The summer of 1998 had felt warmer than it had in years. The warmth seemed to ripple from the outside in, given the immense relief that came with the death of Voldemort and with it the end of the Second Wizarding War. And even though yes, there was a lot of work still to do to restore balance to the world, right the wrongs committed during the War, and move forward toward a brighter future, everything still seemed to shine that touch brighter. 
Hope, it seems, can make even the most unremarkable rocks shine like diamonds.
It was in the summer, and right as Carewyn began what would be a long crusade to try and convict every ex-Death Eater for their crimes, that Carewyn received a letter from her old school friend and associate Orion Amari. He and his nearly two-year-old daughter Eos had recently returned to Montrose, Scotland, after being in hiding from the Death Eaters for several months. With the financial reimbursement he’d received from both the Ministry and the League as post-War damages, Orion had just managed to scrape together enough money to purchase a run-down old cottage in the woods outside of Montrose, which he was now working to fix up and obscure with the proper enchantments for himself and Eos to live in.
As much as I have never lamented living in a small one-room flat by myself, Orion’s letter explained, I realize that for a young child, such a place would lack stimulation and even less chance for freedom and exploration. Perhaps a home in such a quiet and green place, as opposed to the suburbs or in the country, could provide a sanctuary for Eos: one where she can experience many wonderful new things and experiment with her own magic away from prying eyes. And perhaps, on a more selfish note, being more physically removed from town could give me some cover from more overzealous members of the press, who I’ve only been able to keep at bay in the past by living alongside Muggles. 
Carewyn was touched by how much her old friend thought of his daughter’s happiness. She wished she’d had the freedom with her own job and income to consider moving into a larger space herself -- she loved her tiny flat in London, but recently she had had to make some layout changes, so as to give her new ward -- twelve-year-old Erik Apollo -- some space of his own. 
Mum came over to give me a hand with turning the hall closet into a second bedroom last week, Carewyn confided to Orion in a letter of her own at one point. She had to do the same thing for me when I was young, so she has plenty of experience with such magic -- but I was only a bit older than Eos, back then. Erik is set to start his first year at Hogwarts next month: he deserves some space of his own, and privacy at that, and he can’t have that in such a small room. Erik’s been referring to the new room as his “shoebox” as a joke -- even if he’s said multiple times that its size isn’t a problem and I know he means it, I still hope I can find a safe way to expand his room a bit more before he comes home for the holidays. 
In September, Carewyn brought Erik to Platform Nine and Three Quarters to start his first year at school. Despite the sticky, unpleasant heat clinging to the air, the curly blond-haired boy was dressed in a black turtleneck and jeans -- Erik didn’t like the looks he got from passerby for the magical burn scars around his neck, which had been inflicted on him by Death Eater Thorfinn Rowle. 
“Do you have everything you need?” Carewyn asked him. “Your trunk? Your wallet?”
“Everything and everyone,” said Erik with a wry smile, indicating the black-and-white tuxedo cat yowling in his carrier at his side.
Carewyn offered her ward’s new familiar a pitying smile as she brought a hand up to the bars of his cage, petting the top of his head with a single finger.
“Aww...it’s all right,” she said gently. “Erik can take you out on the train.”
“Only if he agrees not to claw anybody,” Erik said dryly. When the cat yowled unhappily again, he added, “Sorry, Han Solo, I don’t have enough to pay off the train conductor if you cause any permanent damage.”
Carewyn laughed softly behind her hand, which made Erik’s light blue eyes sparkle with that bit more satisfaction. 
“I’d best be off,” said Erik stridently. “Train’s leaving in ten.”
Carewyn nodded in agreement. She brought a hand onto his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. 
“Send me an owl if you need anything,” she said seriously. “There’ll be plenty of owls in the owlery you can use to send me a letter...and even if you end up in Hufflepuff or Slytherin, there are collection trays where post can be delivered down to you, outside of mealtimes.”
Erik nodded. “Thanks, Ms. Cromwell.”
Carewyn gave him a brave smile. Then, opening her arms, she encircled the small boy in a full, warm hug -- Erik, even despite the straightness of his posture, accepted her hold and even gave her a light squeeze before releasing her and dashing up to the open train door, hoisting his trunk up after him. Then, with one last wave, he retreated into the train car to get settled for the trip to school. 
It was a strange, bereft kind of feeling, watching the train with Erik on board pull out of the station and out of sight. Even if the boy truly was only twelve years younger than her and was of an age more like a younger sibling than a child, Carewyn couldn’t help but wonder if her own mother felt like this, watching Jacob and her leave for school all those years ago.
Later that September, Carewyn received another letter from Orion. This one’s contents, however, surprised Carewyn more than any of the others they’d exchanged.
Carewyn,
I realize that for someone as enamored with plans and order as you, this request will be very abrupt -- but would you be able to visit Eos and me here in Scotland at all tomorrow evening? Any time around sunset would be suitable.
Please do not hesitate in your response. Even if it must be no, I will simply be happy to receive a letter from you so quickly.
Orion
Carewyn read the letter several times in slight confusion. The request was definitely a bit out of left field. Orion had come to see her several times, both as she helped him secure legal custody of Eos and when he came to the Ministry as a representative for the Quidditch League. Carewyn had even let Orion sleep on her couch overnight without planning ahead, simply because he had to report back to the Ministry right away the next morning. But Orion hadn’t ever asked her to come to his place before -- if nothing else, it was still very newly “his place,” as it was. Him suddenly inviting her over without explaining why...it signaled that his reason had to be important...
Carewyn’s eyes lingered on the last line as she took out some parchment and wrote out a quick response of her own.
Orion,
I should be able to finish up with my casework by 8:00. I could Floo from my office right over to you, if you’d like.
Let me know,
Carewyn
The Ministry lawyer folded the short note into thirds, closed it with a seal, and held it out to the owl so it could snatch it up in its beak and fly off, back out of her office and out of sight down the hall.
Orion’s response came mere hours later. It was even shorter, and its flowing, yet messy penmanship -- typical to Orion -- was a bit more slanted, as if it had been written very quickly.
8:00 is a lovely time to look forward to. While making your trip, simply ask to be brought to “Dawn’s Haven.”
Until tomorrow,
Orion
The following night Carewyn didn’t even bother changing out of the dress robes she was wearing into her spare Muggle clothes, as she did whenever she walked home from work. She instead headed straight for the closest Ministry fireplace, tossing some of the spare powder into the grate at her feet before clearly declaring Orion’s directions:
“Dawn’s Haven!”
The emerald green flames flared up around her, encompassing her vision as she was hurtled through space. About twenty seconds later, she found herself reaching another much less polished grate, out of which she exited. When she did, she had to brush aside a strange curtain of hanging green and violet beads just to climb up and out of the grate.
When Carewyn looked up and around, she found herself in a very small, but quaint little cottage. The walls were all made of stained oak and it was decorated eclectically, with a stylized sunflower-printed rug, several mandala floor pillows, a footstool shaped like a turtle, a tiered indoor water fountain, and hanging plants and Arabian-style glass lanterns attached to the beams overhead. There was even a star chart, enchanted with glowing stars and constellations, carved into the ceiling. The lighting was very dim, and yet as warm and colorful as sunlight through a stained glass window. The whole place also smelled of soothing incense -- lavender and sandalwood.
And standing right in front of Carewyn to meet her was Orion himself. He immediately took her hands and helped her straighten up, since she’d bent down to brush the soot from her robes.
“Carewyn,” he said. “How good it is to see you.”
The size and brightness of his smile startled Carewyn. She didn’t think she’d seen him look so happy since she’d agreed to rejoin his Quidditch team back in her sixth year.
“...It’s good to see you too,” she said, still slightly stunned.
She glanced around for Eos. She found the newly-two-year-old girl sitting on her knees at the window across the room, biting her lower lip as she smiled broadly at Carewyn too.
“Your shoulders appear very tense,” said Orion.
Carewyn glanced back awkwardly toward the small stone fireplace she’d just walked through. “Well, from your letter, I’d thought maybe something was wrong, but...”
She brought a hand through her ginger bangs, feeling a bit chagrined.
Orion’s expression softened.
“I see,” he said, his face becoming a bit sheepish despite himself. “Forgive me, Carewyn. It seems in my eagerness, I neglected to reassure you that this was merely a social visit, rather than a fire you had to put out...”
“I didn’t think that,” Carewyn said very quickly, “I just -- well, I just assumed that you had something serious on your mind -- that you needed my input on something...like about your custody of Eos, or the Quidditch League, or...”
“Carewyn.”
Carewyn paused when Orion gave the hand of hers he was still holding a light squeeze. She looked up, just as Orion quickly released her hand, bringing his hand up through his own unevenly cut hair to brush it out of his face.
“I realize you’re trying to reassure me,” he said, sounding rather self-effacing, “but...it’s not comforting, to know I have left you thinking that I would only ever summon you here to ask for your help. And for that, I am sorry.”
Guilt flooded through Carewyn. “No! I don’t think that! It’s just...well, everyone’s needed more help, these days. I’ve had to help a lot of people lately...”
“Me included,” said Orion with a small, sad smile.
“It’s nothing I’ve done unwillingly,” Carewyn said fiercely. “I like helping people, Orion -- it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, to help those people I care about...those people who need my help.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye, so she settled for his shoulder instead.
“...I’ve liked helping you,” she murmured. “You and Eos. Seeing you with her...hearing about what you want for her future...I want to help you achieve that happiness, for her.”
Orion’s black eyes seemed to gleam with a strange, almost deeper glint. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could conjure up any response --
“Caywhen!”
Both Orion and Carewyn straightened up abruptly, and then immediately looked down. Eos had uneasily climbed down from the window ledge and toddled over across the room over to them -- and in that moment, the tiny girl flung out her arms and grabbed onto Carewyn’s right leg through her robes.
Carewyn stared, open-mouthed, from Eos to Orion, who looked just as surprised as she was.
“Did...did she just say my...?”
Eos’s black eyes, identical in color to her father’s, were shining like gems as she pointed urgently up at the window behind her with her pudgy little finger.
“Caywhen!” the little girl said again.
She gave a tug to Carewyn’s leg.
Still faintly stunned, Carewyn let the little girl lead her over to the window. Eos tried to hoist herself up onto the windowsill -- Carewyn helped her climb up, and Eos tapped the glass meaningfully.
Carewyn looked out, to see nothing but darkness. Through the glass, however, she could barely make out a strange sound -- an ethereal sound, echoing through the night...
Almost like music...
Moving the beaded curtain aside to reach the window latch, Carewyn undid it and opened the window so as to better hear.
Sure enough, it was music -- a beautiful, melodic, haunting song, played by instruments she almost thought she recognized: something like a harp, as well as something like a lute...
Carewyn was left mesmerized, just leaning over the window ledge with Eos and listening. The little girl was entranced, her mouth slightly open and her wide black eyes drifting around the window and over the dark woods. She’d clearly never heard anything like it before and could do nothing but just drink it in.
Orion was so quiet that Carewyn didn’t even realize he’d come up alongside her to stand over Eos until his muscular arm brushed up beside hers. When Carewyn looked up, his black eyes were locked on her face and his lips were spread in a gentle smile.
“It’s a turning of the seasons,” he said softly. “From what the previous tenant told me when I bought this house, the selkies that live near the shore like to mark the equinoxes. And now that autumn has officially begun in the eyes of the stars...so have the selkies returned to shore, to play music through the night in celebration.”
Carewyn’s eyes widened.
“Then...then this is why you invited me,” she said in understanding. “So I could hear the selkies’ music?”
Orion’s eyes trailed over Carewyn’s face with something fonder. “Of course. I knew if there was anyone on this Earth who would appreciate it, it would be you, Carewyn Cromwell.”
Carewyn felt her cheeks warm with a happy blush, unable to hold in how very touched she was by this.
“Caywhen?”
Carewyn looked down at Eos. The little girl had taken hold of her sleeve and given it a light tug as she looked back out the window. Carewyn could sense both awe and curiosity coming off Orion’s daughter through the eye contact they’d made, and it made her bright red lips spread into a smile.
“Those are selkies, Eos,” she said gently. “They’re playing music.”
Eos was listening to Carewyn with rapt attention, even as the two looked back out the open window.
“They sound pretty, don’t they?” said Carewyn.
Eos smiled and nodded, settling herself down on the sill on her stomach and resting her face in both hands so she could lean a bit out the window and listen.
Carewyn smiled fondly down at the little girl, looking back over her shoulder at Orion. Waves of undiluted pride and warmth rippled off of the Montrose Magpie as he gazed down at his daughter. When his eyes flitted up to Carewyn, that warmth seemed to settle slightly as he tried to compose himself, but it still seemed to flood out of Orion’s eyes, accompanied by flickers of memory -- cradling a newborn until she stopped crying -- covering her eyes to tell her to be quiet as they hid together in the shadows --
“Eos listens far more than she speaks,” Orion said very softly.
Carewyn smiled slightly. “Like her father?”
Orion smiled too, but only briefly. “Yes...but not for the same reason. She learned how to be silent at such a young age that, now, I fear she may be more comfortable being silent than in expressing herself openly. She does not mimic sounds others make. She does not experiment with forming words, as other children I’ve seen do. She doesn’t speak much at all, aside from very specific words. ‘Here.’ ‘No.’ ‘Help.’ ‘Dad.’”
Something strange flickered over Orion’s face -- was that shyness?
“...Even...other people’s names are quite rare. Just the ones she’s heard me say before, with some frequency. ‘Skye’ -- ‘Nully’ -- ‘KC’ -- ‘Wath’ -- ”
“And ‘Caywhen,’” Carewyn finished, unable to keep herself from smiling. She even felt her cheeks warming with a charmed blush.
Orion’s face seemed to flush a bit too despite himself. “Apparently so.”
Carewyn tilted her head at him in confusion.
“I was just as surprised to hear your name emerge from Eos’s mouth as you were,” Orion admitted, smiling through the flush in his cheeks. “...I suppose I didn’t realize just how often I’ve spoken of you, as of late...”
Carewyn smiled a bit more kindly. “Hmm...well, we have spent a lot of time together, these last few months.”
She reached out and gently took his hand.
“I’m glad I’ve been able to see you again,” she said, “instead of just writing letters. Even if the circumstances haven’t been exactly ideal.”
“...Indeed.”
Orion’s gaze drifted down at their hands. His thumb lightly slid along the back of her hand as he secured his hold.
“It’s...been a blessing, to reconnect with you after so long, Carewyn,” he said softly. “To...spend time with you like this...without any threat looming over us...nor any mantle of heroism thrust upon you.”
His eyes gained something a bit more solemn as he met her gaze. She could sense something soothing coming off of him -- something akin to a hand over hers, lowering her wand for her...
“As much as you have helped Eos and me...and as grateful as I shall always be for that,” Orion said softly, “I want you to know...that my wish to see you can be just about want, and not always about need. And that even when it is the second...you can always say no, with no regrets.”
Carewyn stared at Orion for a moment, a bit taken aback. She could practically see him as a young man again, asking her multiple times to rejoin his Quidditch team, only for Carewyn to have to regretfully decline the invitation, in the face of her pursuing the Cursed Vaults and saving Jacob.
The memory made Carewyn’s lips curl up in a bittersweet smile as she glanced away.
“...Thank you. But honestly...I’m just glad that I’m in the position now that I don’t have to say no.”
At Eos shifting slightly, Carewyn looked down, to see the little girl adjusting underneath her and Orion so that she was more comfortably nestled between them. His black eyes softening fondly, Orion extended his hand not holding Carewyn’s and rested it beside his daughter, creating an almost canopy over her as he rested his chin lightly on top of her head and looked out the window. Carewyn watched the father and daughter with fondness before she too looked back out the window, listening to the sounds of the selkies’ mystical, celebratory melodies echoing through the trees.
The three sat there by the window for a long while. As the night wore on, the music evolved and changed. Soon it’d gotten late enough that Eos was getting restless, so the three shifted over to the living space. Orion brewed himself and Carewyn some lavender tea and Eos some hot water and lemon, while Eos sat in the papasan chair with Carewyn and she told Eos about the different musical instruments she could pick out in the selkies’ music.
“You hear that high, clear, echoing sound? Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh. That’s something glass -- like a glass armonica.”
Eos smiled whenever Carewyn sang along with the selkies’ playing. The sight made Orion’s eyes sparkle with warmth as he came back over with two mugs of tea and one of hot water and lemon.
“Come get your narwhal, Eos,” he said amusedly.
This statement made more sense when he held up Eos’s mug, which was shaped like a ceramic blue narwhal.
Eos bounced right out of her spot next to Carewyn so she could take her mug from her father. She then toddled over to the pile of pillows on the floor, where she plopped herself down on her stomach, pointedly blew on the hot water three times, and took a long sip from her mug.
Orion walked over to Carewyn and held out two mugs of tea with a wry smile -- one white with a black octopus printed on it and the other black printed with the white words “I’d Rather Be Playing Quidditch” on it. With a laugh, Carewyn reached out and took the one decorated with the octopus.
“Was that other one a present?” she asked.
Orion grinned. “They both were. From McNully and Skye, respectively."
“And the narwhal?” asked Carewyn.
“Adopted by Eos -- paid for by KC,” Orion said with a grin.
Carewyn covered her mouth as she laughed. “I was thinking of ‘adopting’ a mug for Erik too, at some point.”
“Does he also enjoy tea?”
“Not so much -- but I thought some hot chocolate or butterbeer would be appropriate around Christmas.”
“A reasonable thought. Hot apple cider could also be a nice alternative.”
Taking a sip of the lavender tea from the black mug, the Chaser settled himself down next to his daughter on the pillows. Eos snuggled up beside her father, and Carewyn smiled seeing how gently Orion’s black eyes shined as he lightly ruffled her bangs with one hand.
“Orion?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for this,” Carewyn said softly. “All of this...the tea, the company, but also...well, the music. It’s just...”
She shifted herself in the chair, her hands holding the mug of tea in her lap as she looked back over toward the window wistfully.
“...It’s so beautiful,” she murmured.
After such a long War, full of fear and fighting and work and worrying -- after focusing solely on helping as many people as she could, with what little power she had to try to make things right...sitting in a comfortable, lavender-and-sandlewood-scented cottage, listening to selkies celebrate the season through song, was medicinal to Carewyn’s spirit in a way she couldn’t put into words.
Orion was quiet for a very, very long moment as he watched Carewyn. At one point, he even caught his little daughter biting her lip as she grinned up at him and Carewyn, and he quickly averted his gaze, trying to bite back a self-conscious smile of his own.
“...You’re welcome.”
Always, he never said aloud, but he hoped dearly would still come across. You will always be welcome, here. ...Always...
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the-al-chemist · 2 years
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Artemis Hexley and the Circle of Khanna
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Chapter 21: Amends
A/N: Another year has come and gone at Hogwarts, but Artemis has some unfinished business to attend to before she can leave. Characters mentioned belong to @lifeofkaze, @thatravenpuffwitch, @that-scouse-wizard, @samshogwarts, and @kc-and-co. Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of sports related injury, references to canon typical discrimination, and mentions of death, grief, and loss.
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Once the Aurors had left with Jacob and Rakepick, Professor Dumbledore sent the Circle of Khanna back to their dormitories.
“Except for you, Miss Hexley,” he said, and Artemis stopped walking with Tonks and Penny to face him. “There are things that I wish to discuss with you privately, if I may.”
Artemis had expected Dumbledore to take her back to his office, but instead, they walked straight past the gargoyle corridor in the direction of the hospital wing. The hospital wing itself was full of people and absent of statues.
“It worked!” Artemis said as she caught sight of Madam Pomfrey walking among her fellow victims of the statue curse. “They’ve all gone back to normal.”
“So it would appear,” said Dumbledore, bowing his head. He gestured to the staircase, and together he and Artemis descended the steps to walk out into the Clocktower Courtyard. Once they were standing outside, he raised his face to the heavens and chuckled gently. “I remember one starry night like this five years ago, I stood with a young girl who asked me about the Cursed Vaults. I distinctly recall telling her then - and several times since then, I might add - that she should leave the Vaults well alone.”
Artemis shrugged. “I’ve never been very good at doing what I’m told, Professor.”
“And for that, we should all be grateful. Thanks to the efforts of yourself and your friends, the school is safe. I should very much like to ask you, if you do not mind indulging my academic curiosity, what lay within the final Cursed Vault?”
“As in the power inside?” Artemis asked, and Dumbledore inclined his head. “I dunno, sir. We never got to opening the Vault properly, because it was protected by… something. It was horrible, we got these visions. Merula and Ben said they were all their worst memories, but I’m not sure. Some of the stuff I don’t remember seeing before, or if I have it was only in a dream, not in real life. It felt real, though, in the Vault. And it felt… awful. Like everything good had been sucked out of the world forever.”  Artemis shuddered. “The merpeople said it was an evil place. It was. We went out, and we were thinking about how to break through the protection when Rakepick arrived. She wanted to kill me, again.”
“As always, Patricia Rakepick proves herself to be highly determined in getting what she wants.”
“Yeah. I mean, she could’ve killed me before, that night in the forest when… I don’t know why she didn’t honestly. It would’ve been easy because we weren’t paying attention to her, not after Rowan... But anyway, by the time we captured her, we were all worried. So we sealed the Vault. Jacob said it would stop the curse, it just means that eventually someone will have to go back and break all of the curses once and for all. He said that we would do it, but then he…”
Artemis’ voice tailed off. Once again, Jacob’s actions had left her mystified. And Jacob had left her. Again. Not only that, he had told the Aurors that he was the one who killed Duncan, that he was a member of the cabal. It couldn’t be true, but if it was untrue, why had he said all those things to the Aurors?
“If my memory serves me correctly,” said Dumbledore quietly, “that night when we first talked, you asked me whether I believed your brother to be mad, bad, or dangerous.”
“Maybe. It was a long time ago.”
“Indeed it was. But I did not believe it then, and I do not believe it now.”
“Do you know why he handed himself to the Aurors?” Artemis asked, continuing without even giving Dumbledore a chance to answer, “Do you know if it’s true, what he said about being part of R and killing Duncan? You don’t believe that he killed Duncan, do you?”
“I cannot pretend to know what your brother thinks, however I would hazard a guess that he is suffering from a guilty conscience, one that he wishes to relieve by attempting to make amends.”
Artemis frowned, not sure if she entirely understood Dumbledore’s words.
“So, what’s going to happen now?” she asked him.
“I am certain that the Aurors and the Wizengamot will see to it that justice is served appropriately, to both your brother and Madam Rakepick.”
“And what about here, at Hogwarts? And the Cursed Vaults? And me?”
“The Cursed Vaults will remain a mystery, and shall lie dormant until someone next attempts to open them, sometime in the future. When exactly, only time will tell,” Dumbledore fixed his blue eyes on Artemis behind his half-moon spectacles. “As for you, Miss Hexley, you have another month and a half before term ends, and another year of education after that. I suggest you make the most of it.”
There was a finality in his tone that made it clear that Artemis was dismissed. As she walked towards the door of the clocktower to return to her dormitory, the bell chimed twelve times. Behind her she heard Professor Dumbledore call her name, and she looked back to see him smiling at her.
“I believe I should wish you a happy birthday, Miss Hexley.”
With all the plans about the Cursed Vault, Artemis had almost forgotten all about her birthday. Thankfully, her friends had not. After lessons ended for the day, Penny and Tonks practically dragged her to the Three Broomsticks, where Rosmerta had decorated the bar with paper chains and colourful floating bubbles, and all of the Circle of Khanna had gathered around a set of tables.
“You really didn’t have to go to all this effort, Ros,” said Artemis, as Rosmerta pressed a small parcel into her hands. 
“Nonsense, love. You’re seventeen. All grown up,” Ros smiled. “Now, are you going to use magic to open that present or not?”
Of course. Now that she was of age, Artemis was actually allowed to use magic outside of school. She grinned, and used her wand to vanish the wrapping paper off the gift. She had been expecting more Muggle music for the machine Ros had given her for Christmas the year before, but instead found herself holding an entirely different Muggle device. This one was small and square, with a dark glass circle in the centre, and a light glass square in one corner.
“Thanks, Ros,” Artemis smiled and frowned at the same time. “Um, what is this?”
“It’s a camera, love. It prints out photos as you take them,” Rosmerta informed her. “I thought that with you only having one year left at school, you would like a way to keep hold of as many nice memories as possible.”
“Yeah, I would. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, love. So, what do you want to have for your first drink as a grown woman?”
Artemis carried a small glass of a burgundy liquid that smelled like marzipan (“sloe gin, love”) and the Muggle camera over to her friends, and Penny showed her how it worked. By the time they left the inn and returned to the Hufflepuff dormitory, she had almost twenty photos of her and her friends and a niggling sensation in her head and heart. If only Rowan had been there. If only she had more photos of Rowan from when she had been there. Her first instinct was to push the thought away, but she stopped herself, and instead let the feeling sit there for a moment, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, and picturing Rowan’s face, her doe-like brown eyes, the graceful curve of her nose, her smile. It was not a photograph, but it was something, at least.
“Are you alright, Artemis?” asked Alanza, sitting on the bed that used to be Rowan’s. Artemis smiled at her and nodded.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “Just thinking, that’s all. Thanks, though. It was nice of you to ask.”
“You know what else is nice?” Penny said, and she nodded her head at Chiara, who had brought her bedding into the dormitory to join the girls in their festivities. “You being here, Chiara. You really should stay here all the time, you know.”
Chiara gave Penny a thin-lipped smile. “As I told you before, I don’t want to wake you all up taking medications and-”
“And, as I told you before, none of us would mind one bit. Would we, Tonks?”
“Nah, I’m a deep sleeper.”
“See? Artemis and Alanza don’t mind either, do you?”
“It does not matter if I mind or not,” Alanza shrugged. “I will not be here next year anyway. I go back to Brazil at the end of term.”
“Oh, you must be so excited to see your family and friends.”
“I am, yes. But I will miss my friends here at Hogwarts, too. And Charlie, of course. Hopefully he will be able to visit me sometime. You all can visit as well one day, I will miss you four very much, too.”
“We will all miss you too, Alanza,” said Artemis, realising for the first time that she meant it. She had grown to quite like Alanza after all.
“Thank you, Artemis. You know, Chiara, you can have my bed when I go home, if you like.”
Before Chiara could either accept or decline Alanza’s offer, the door of the dormitory swung open. In crashed a short and stocky girl with short blue hair.
“Sorry for crashing in like a roaster,” said Skye Parkin, her face flushing. “I just need to chat tae ye, Hexley.”
“Fine. What about?”
“Cordelia Costa had a messed up cure for boils tipped over her hands in Potions class this afternoon, and her hands have come up in the most massive boils ye have ever seen. Madam Pomfrey says they’ll take a month tae heal properly, so  she cannae play Quidditch next weekend. It means we’re down a Chaser. I’ve been tryin’ tae find a replacement but it’s slim pickings out there. Aw ma year are too busy revising for the N.E.W.T.s and the fifth years are aw flapping aboot the O.W.L.s. The fourth years are pure mince, and I’m already using my reserve player, so… Can you do it?”
Artemis frowned. “I’m not a Chaser, Skye.”
“That’s nae bother, Hopper will play Chaser. But that leaves us without a Seeker. She cannae play both, ken?” Skye sighed. “Look, Hexley, I ken that ye didnae want tae play anymore after what happened tae yer pal, but honestly, I’m desperate. Please? It’s the final, and I cannae go against Rath with no Seeker, those Ravenclaws will batter us.”
She looked at Artemis imploringly, and Artemis could see from the look in her green eyes that she meant it. So, Artemis nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it.”
“Ye wee stoater, Hexley. Cheers, hen. See you oan the pitch at dawn, aye? We’re gaun tae need some emergency practice sessions tae get us aw back in shape. Rath won’t ken what’s hit her.”
Skye wandered off, muttering about Erika Rath under her breath.
“Well,” said Artemis. “Looks like I need to find my broomstick.”
She found her Comet 260 under her bed, next to the pair of matching burgundy notebooks she had intended to give Rowan for her seventeenth birthday, but had never got the opportunity to do so. She pushed them back, and pulled out the broomstick. It needed a good polish, but other than that it was ready to fly again. 
And so was she.
The final Quidditch match of the year was between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and its result would decide the winner of the Cup.
Ravenclaw was in the lead, but - as Murphy McNully reliably informed Artemis - there was still a chance of Hufflepuff snatching a victory from the jaws of defeat, provided that they beat Ravenclaw with a wide margin, which Skye was confident that they would.
Unfortunately, it turned out not to be the case. 
The match was marginally less violent than the year before, with only two injuries: Abigail Adler, one of the Ravenclaw Chasers, sustained an injury during a manoeuvre Skye called “Parkin’s Pincer”, and Jean Bean the Hufflepuff Beater was knocked out of the sky by the combined force of both Rath and Cassiopeia using their bats to hit a Bludger at her simultaneously.
With one Beater out of the game, David Willows was having to work twice as hard to defend the players against Rath and Cassiopeia, leaving him unable to mount any form of powerful attack against the opposing team, and Andre Egwu and Hufflepuff’s Keeper Amelia Booth were equally matched as Keepers. Still, with Adler out of play, the Hufflepuff Chasers had the advantage. Skye, Lizzie, and Ellie worked well as a team, and over a few hours managed to rack up a score in Hufflepuff’s favour. 
The fate of the game rested with Artemis, whose job was fairly simple: keep the Ravenclaw Seeker busy, wait for the point lead to increase, then catch the Snitch. This was complicated by the opposing Seeker, Samantha O’Connell, who seemed to have caught on to - or perhaps had been told about - all of Artemis’ distraction techniques, for she didn’t fall for any of them and stayed consistently focussed on her own hunt for the Snitch. 
When Artemis finally saw the tiny golden ball, Hufflepuff still did not have enough of a lead to win the Cup. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one to have caught sight of the Snitch; O’Connell saw it too. 
She had no choice; if she didn’t catch the Snitch now, Hufflepuff would lose the match as well as the Cup. So, she leaned forward and accelerated with the opposing Seeker, taking a deep dive and overtaking her, the wind whistling in her ears and whipping her hair as she gained speed and drew closer and closer to…
“Hexley catches the Golden Snitch,” Murphy’s voice echoed across the pitch. “Hufflepuff win 220 to 60, but Ravenclaw take the Cup!”
“Och, dinnae fash yerself, hen,” said Skye, when Artemis stopped her at the post-match party to apologise for not waiting longer to catch the Snitch. “At least we won the match, aye?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Artemis shrugged. “Does that mean that I can come back to the team next term? I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed playing Quidditch, what with everything that happened this year.”
Skye laughed. “It’s nae ma decision. I’ll be graduating next month, ken?.”
“What are you going to do after you leave?”
“I’m joining a professional team. Ma family’s team actually, the Wigtown Wanderers. I told ye before that ma Pa is the manager, and ma older brothers are already playing.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Aye, but it’s a lot of pressure. Always has been. At home, it’s the only thing that matters, and I just want tae… Aye, never mind. Sorry for havering, Hexley.”
“That’s fine, I don’t mind,” Artemis told her. “I’m sorry for quitting earlier in the year. Hopefully whoever is Captain next year will let me back. Who is going to be Captain?”
“Dinnae ken yet. Jameson, Bean and I are aw aff, Willows does nae want the responsibility, the others have aw only been playing for a year. You dinnae want it, dae ye?”
“Not a chance,” Artemis laughed, and so did Skye. “I had a go at being the leader of a club this year and it’s really not my thing. Besides, I only played one match this year, and I don’t know enough about strategies and I’m no good at working out point margins and…” her voice tailed off as she had an idea. “Actually, Skye, I think I know who would be a great captain.”
“Who?”
Artemis looked across the Great Hall to where Murphy was sitting with Katriona Cassiopeia, the red-haired Ravenclaw Beater, on his lap. Skye frowned.
“McNully? He cannae fly, he’s in a wheelchair.”
“So what?” Artemis asked. “He knows more about Quidditch than anyone and it was his strategies that won us the Cup last year. And we’re Hufflepuffs. Aren’t we meant to believe in fair chances?”
“Aye,” Skye raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly. “Aye, it’s no a bad idea. I am gaun tae have words with him about getting quite so close to the Ravenclaw Beaters, though. Cannae have that from our Captain.”
“That’s a shame.”
“For why?”
“Oh, no reason,” Artemis grinned, her eyes finding those of Erika Rath, which were fixed on Skye, and were filled with an expression that was far softer than anger. “I just think that there might be a Ravenclaw Beater who wouldn’t mind getting a little closer to you.”
“Och, naw. She’s just still raging about those rumours I started last year about her and that missing broomstick.”
“Then maybe it’s time that you try making amends,” said Artemis, and she gave Skye a small but mischievous smirk as she walked away from her, leaving a clear path between the two girls who were - for now, at least - rival team captains.
Artemis’ return to the Quidditch team might have distracted Penny from nagging Chiara Lobosca to take Alanza’s empty bed in the girls’ dormitory, but Chiara’s respite was short-lived. On the final night of term, while Alanza was making the most of her final evening with Charlie and the other girls were busy packing up their belongings, Penny dragged Chiara across the hallway and into the dormitory.
“See, there would be plenty of room for you, especially with Alanza leaving. I don’t mind taking down the garlands if you don’t like them, and Tonks can always free the bat.”
“Excuse me?”
“The beds are really comfy in here,” Penny continued, ignoring the affronted look Tonks was giving her. “Come and sit on Alanza’s bed - she won’t mind - and you’ll see what I mean. Chiara. Sit.”
Chiara did as Penny said and sat down on Alanza’s bed, though she sighed softly as she did so.
“Penny, I-”
“There. Don’t you think it’s comfy?”
“It is, Penny, and I’m really touched that you want me to move in here with you three, but I can’t,” Chiara said, her voice gentle and firm, all at once. “I just can’t. I’m sorry.”
“But-”
“Leave it, Penny,” muttered Artemis, shoving Fergus’ toys into her trunk. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine!” Penny said shrilly. “Because once Alanza leaves it will just be the three of us again, and Chiara is all alone, and I hate that we will have an empty bed and Chiara will have an empty dormitory, and I hate that Rowan won’t get to be here for our final year and that if we’d known that we would have spent more time with her when she was here, and now it’s too late.”
“Penny, don’t be upset, I didn’t mean-”
“And we should have spent more time with you as well, Chiara, and soon it will be too late for that, too. But you could still move in here and we could make up for you not having been here before, if you let us,” Penny looked at Chiara imploringly with her tear-filled blue eyes. “Please, will you let us?”
Chiara stared at the floor and shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Penny’s right, Chiara,” said Tonks. “You should move in here with us. It’s rotten of us for not insisting before.”
“But-”
“We don’t give a hoot about you waking us up in the night, honestly.”
“That’s not what this is about, it’s… Well, I’m not… I’m…”
Artemis frowned. “Chiara, you really don’t have to-”
“No. It’s okay, Artemis,” Chiara smiled sadly. “You see, the truth is… Well, the illness I have, it’s not a bleeding curse. It’s lycanthropy.” 
Both Penny and Tonks fell silent, their lips parting and eyebrows furrowing.
“What?” Tonks asked eventually.
“I’m a werewolf. That’s why I have my own room, so I can take my Wolfsbane potion and transform without anyone being near me. I can’t move in here, because I don’t want to hurt you.”
Tonks pursed her lips. “But if you’re taking the Wolfsbane potion, you’re harmless, right?” 
“Well, yes, but-”
“Ah, then it’s fine. I mean, we’re used to this kind of thing; we’ve already got Artemis turning into a cat every five minutes-”
“It’s not that often!”
“- and if I’m being honest, I’ve always been more of a dog person anyway,” Tonks shrugged and turned to Penny, whose lips were thin and cheeks pale. “What do you think, Pen?”
Artemis held her breath, not sure how Penny would react. After what felt like an age, Penny lifted her gaze to Chiara’s, her front teeth grazing her lower lip. When she finally spoke, her voice held a slight tremor.
“Would you be able to teach me how to make a Wolfsbane Potion?” 
Chiara nodded, and a cackling Tonks ran across the room to jump on top of both her and Penny, knocking them backwards on the bed with a loud squeal and a giggle and pinning Chiara down.
“Artemis, help me! We can’t let her leave!”
Laughing, Artemis pulled out the camera Madam Rosmerta had given her and used it to print a photo of the others before joining them, Fergus watching from the windowsill with a look of disdain in his bottle-green eyes. They continued to laugh even as Chiara returned to her dormitory, promising to think about moving into Alanza’s empty bed next term.
“It’s going to be a bit weird without Alanza, isn’t it?” Tonks asked. 
“I know what you mean. I’ve kind of gotten used to having her around,” said Artemis, frowning at Alanza’s - or was it Chiara’s, now? - empty bed. “Where is she, anyway? She can’t still be with Charlie, surely?”
“Oh, well. I expect that they will be having a rather long conversation, if you know what I mean.”
“No, Penny. I haven’t got the foggiest what you mean.”
“Well,” Penny sighed, “I expect that they’re breaking up.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because Alanza is going back to Brazil, and Charlie is staying here. It’s not like they’ll be able to see each other, is it? Just make sure that you’re nice to her when she comes back.”
“I’m always nice to her,” Artemis said, and Penny pursed her lips. “What? I am now.”
“Yes, I know, but remember, she will be just as upset as Charlie is. Try not to take his side over hers.”
Artemis’ eyebrows furrowed, and she returned to her half-packed trunk. If only there were something she could do to help. As she pulled out her last items from under her bed, she realised that maybe there was something she could do.
The following morning, when the other girls went into the Great Hall for their final breakfast together before the carriages departed for Hogsmeade station, Artemis lingered in the entrance hall, waiting for the Gryffindor boys to arrive. When they did, she grabbed Charlie by the arm and pulled him out into the courtyard outside.
“What’s up?” Charlie asked her, frowning deeply. “Are you alright?”
“Nothing, I’m fine. Are you alright?”
“Uh, I think so. Why?” Charlie’s frown deepened momentarily before he raised his eyebrows and nodded in recognition. “Oh, Alanza. Yeah, I’m… We’re going to see how it goes, so that’s… Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”
He gave Artemis a smile, though it was strained and forced. Artemis put her hand on his forearm.
“You’re upset,” she told him, and he shrugged.
“Yeah, sort of. I mean, I didn’t really want to break up, and I definitely didn’t want to upset her more than she already was, but I guess it’s just not very hopeful, is it? Brazil’s a really long way away. It’s not like I could afford to get Portkeys to visit her, and it would be too far for me to Apparate, even if I had passed my Apparition exam-”
“And you wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened in the exam. Alanza’s poor grandmother would be terrified.”
“Oi!” Charlie pushed Artemis gently. “I only got the destination a couple of miles wrong, and how was I supposed to know that poor old Muggle lady would be there?” He shook his head and added, “But you’re right, that probably wouldn’t make the best first impression.”
“Definitely not. What about writing? You could write to her, couldn’t you?”
“I could, but it would take ages for the letters to get there and back. I asked at the Owl Post Office last Hogsmeade weekend,” Charlie shrugged again. “It is what it is, I suppose.”
“But it doesn’t have to be,” Artemis told him, and she opened up her yellow rucksack, rummaged past her Muggle music machine, her camera, and an old cardigan to find what she was looking for, before handing Charlie two notebooks, both bound in wine-coloured leather. “Here. These are for you.”
“Thanks,” Charlie opened one and fanned through the blank pages. “Uh, no offence, but… Why?”
“Because you’re my friend, and I can see that you’re actually upset even though you’re just shrugging your shoulders and pretending that you’re ‘alright’,” Artemis gave Charlie a pointed look, and he half-laughed. She nodded her head at the two notebooks. “They’re a pair, when you write in one, the writing appears in the other so you can send messages to each other.”
Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed, and he tried to push the notebooks back towards Artemis. “No, I can’t take these.”
“Why not? They’re a present.”
“But they must have been expensive. Keep them.”
“I don’t want them,” Artemis said, completely honestly. “I bought them to give to Rowan for her seventeenth birthday, and… Well, she’s not going to use them, is she? You might as well have them.”
“Artie, I can’t-”
“If you don’t take them, I will throw them in the bin,” Artemis crossed her arms across her chest. “Besides, I thought I was your best friend.”
“You are.”
“Well then. It would be downright bloody rude of you not to accept my gift, wouldn’t it?”
“It would,” Charlie sighed. “Are you sure about this?”
“Positive.”
“Right. Then I’ll take them. Thank you. I mean it.”
“You’re welcome,” Artemis smiled as Charlie placed the notebooks in his satchel. She slung her rucksack over her shoulder and linked arms with him. “Come on, or they’ll run out of bacon.”
“That would be the real heartbreak in this situation.”
Thankfully, there was still bacon left at the Hufflepuff table, where the entirety of the Circle of Khanna had gathered to eat breakfast together before getting into the Thestral-drawn carriages.
Just as Artemis joined Penny, Chiara, and Tonks in their carriage, she paused to look closer at the Thestral, which blinked at her with its inky hooded eyes. She reached up and stroked its downy nose. It was softer than she had imagined it would be.
When their carriage reached Hogsmeade station, Artemis did not board the Hogwarts Express. Instead, she hugged her friends goodbye, making sure to hug Alanza twice (“Don’t forget, if you ever want to come to Brazil, you can stay with my family!”) before waving goodbye and watching the train pull away without her, Fergus miaowing dolefully at her side.
“What? You don’t really want to go back to Ma’s house, do you?” Artemis asked him, bending down to stroke him as he rubbed against her ankles. “I didn’t think so. We’ll have a much better time staying with Madam Rosmerta.”
A breeze ruffled through her hair and made her shiver, and she pulled the old cardigan of Rowan’s tighter around herself. In the corner of her eye, she noticed that the clock still read ten past ten. She smiled to herself, finally understanding what Rowan had meant when they had last stood here together; it was reassuring to know that some things would always remain the same, no matter how life changed.
“Expecto patronum.”
As she lifted her wand and whispered the words, a rush of silver light unfurled in the air in front of her, swirling into the lithe dappled form of a cheetah. The cheetah looked at her, and she nodded her head at it in recognition before following it down the length of the platform, letting it guide her to the place that, for this summer at least, she would call her home.
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kc-and-co · 2 years
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Meow? I mean… Hello, I’m Kneil McKnully. I’m a Kneazle.
If you’ve read KC’s stories, you might think you know the story of my family. You know nothing. Don’t get me wrong, my Katriona is a smart lady and she makes my Murphy happy, but she’s not a reliable narrator. Her journals tell half the story. Murphy’s longwinded rants only tell the other half. As luck would have it, I’m not as wordy as my best friend and my lack of thumbs makes typing this story a challenge; but I’m here to tell the real story.  
You’ve heard about their mutual pining. Let me tell you about the mutual whining…
It was sunny August day in 1983. I was asleep in the light of a sunbeam when Murphy came into the pet shop at Diagon Alley. He liked my particularly fluffy ears. I liked his enthusiasm and gentle scratches. We spent the next week getting to know each other before we set off on our big adventure.
I can’t say which one of us was more scared at the train station when we made it to the crowded platform. After the initial chaos of the situation subsided, he let me out of my box when we settled into the train car. He confided in me that he felt different and kind of alone. He was without his mum for the first time in his life. I did what any fluffy animal is supposed to and nuzzled his cheek to make him laugh. His laughter was sincere for the first time that day. The sound attracted the attention of another nervous looking boy in a tattered brown robe. He looked different and alone too. He slid the door to the train car open and asked to join us. Suddenly, Murphy wasn’t scared anymore. He and the boy bonded almost instantly. I’d love to say the same about myself and Rigel the Rat. Still, smelly pet and all, Orion’s presence that day would change all our lives forever.
The two boys were thrilled to find they would be rooming together as Ravenclaw students that night. It was that first night when they first started strategizing on how to make their new house future quidditch champions. You know this part of the story. They would take the championship four years in a row. Quidditch was a way for both the boys to calm their nerves. In quidditch, they found a way to feel special, not just different. They found their skills worked well together and each became obsessive in their own way, working tirelessly to impact the team before they were even eligible to play. I didn’t think anything could make my best buddy happier than quidditch.
Nobody cared much for friendly house matches before Murphy turned them into major athletic events. Practice games felt like World Cup championships. My kiddo made quite a name for himself in his second year. I was proud of him for his hard work. His willingness to let me chase the snitch around was just an added bonus to being his Kneazle. It seemed like nothing in the world could distract him from his newfound passion. Until a pretty first-year student broke a curse.
One night, early in his third year, something changed in my boy. He came back to his room after class and immediately went to bed. I caught Orion’s rat by the scruff of his neck and offered him to Murphy. The rule was that I was not allowed to eat Rigel. As Murphy’s pet, friend, and protector, I was happy to offer up the rat as a treat. He declined, but it got him out of bed. He barely talked for a few days; nothing had ever had him shaken up so badly. I sat on his lap and purred but barely got a scratch or a treat all week. Orion picked me up, shared some kneazlenip, and noted that another ginger with big blue eyes had is attention. He promised that eventually, our buddy would be fine. I was outraged at the thought of him meeting another kneazle.
It all made sense later on when he asked me how to approach a girl. I didn’t know how to approach a girl and I didn’t want to share him with one, anyway. More nights alone with rat-faced Rigel in the dormitory? No thank you. In my frustration, I did what any good kneazle would do. I swatted his playbooks off of his bed, causing them to land at his feet. I still can’t believe he took that as dating advice. More than that, I can’t believe it worked.
Within a week, Murphy and KC were studying quidditch plays together so late into the night that they would fall asleep on the common room couch. It was nice to see him smile, but I wasn’t happy to see him petting any other ginger heads. I knew right away; my pal was hooked.
It took me a year to warm up to her. One day after a quidditch match in 1987, Murphy didn’t return to our room. A panicked Orion gave me dinner and scratches. He promised the pretty girl Murphy liked was at his side in the hospital wing and that our buddy would be ok. She stayed with him for three days after his accident with a rogue bludger. I’d never seen her look so sad or tired when she returned to the common room. Until my buddy came back from the hospital wing, I did what I could to take care of her. I tried grooming her, offering Rigel as a snack, bringing her a snitch to play with, she was happy enough to have my company. If I could talk, I’d have blabbed his feelings about her. She seemed nice. Sometimes, I would sleep at the foot of her bed. He had no idea.
My boy seemed sad all summer before going back to school. The black potion she was always drinking cheered him up and made him talk fast. Usually about her. I admit, I missed her, too.
I heard an eagle talking to a bird about a big dance that was coming up. I never understand why some animals can talk and I can’t. If there was ever a time I wished I could talk, it was around the time of the dance. He told me he skipped last year’s dance because she was not able to go as a third year. They spent the night of the dance studying and talking together. She’s ready this year, she told me she hoped he would ask. He told me he was afraid of asking. He needed lots of my purrs and attention the week before. Sadly enough, she needed me just as much in the weeks after. She went to the dance with another boy. She says he’s brave and loves animals. This animal doesn’t approve.
Every day for a year, Murphy would tell me how happy she looked now that she had a proper boyfriend, and every night for the same year, I would sneak into her room for scratches, treats, and pets. Partly, to cheer her up. She did a good job pretending to be happy. Mostly, because I liked all the nice things she would say about my pal. I didn’t need a reminder of how lucky I was to be Murphy’s kneazle, but she reminded me nightly.
I’ll never forget the night Orion and I found my boy and his girl asleep together on the common room couch. They were cuddled closer than I’d ever seen them before. Surrounded by chocolate frog wrappers, their faces teary but smiling. Orion picked me up and took me back to the boy’s dormitory, humming about the irresistibility of fiery red hair. Within a week, my girl and my boy were really in love. I was happy to support the budding romance Until they started exchanging love notes by pinning them to my collar. I am not an owl, nor carrier pigeon, and should not be used as such. Rude.
I spent the summer missing KC like crazy, though not nearly as much as my best pal did. She sent us a picture of her with her new Kneazle friend. Her name is Knatalie and I couldn’t wait to meet her. Murphy and I spent a lot of that summer staring at their picture in anticipation of going back to school for one last year. They have the same big blue eyes.
That last year was the best and worst of all that a love story has to offer. I’m no prude, but I saw things between those two that no beast, fantastic or otherwise, should ever have to see. The benefit to Murph’s distraction was getting to know Knatalie. Eventually, the fun was over, and KC got very sad when her friend went away. It took all of us, Knatalie, Murphy, and me to help her though it. I don’t understand the rules of human society. KC wouldn’t change her name to McNully for a few more years, but that was the year the four of us really became a family.
Knatalie and I spent the whole summer together at Murphy’s cottage while he and KC traveled. They took advantage of every last day together before they would have to be apart for a year. He came back with a beautiful ring that he kept hidden from her, and matching collars for Knatalie and me.
A few ladies who worked with Murphy at the newspaper liked to stop by our new place in London. He is a nice guy, but completely oblivious to their intentions. I did him a favor and peed on a girl named Michelle’s shoes. He gave me extra treats that night. Six months later, he went to visit KC at school. He promised to bring me a surprise. I was hoping it was tasty little Rigel. I was pleasantly surprised to find Knatalie leap out of his arms. The three of us spent the next few months awaiting KC’s return to the family.
KC didn’t come to live with for another two years after she promised she would. We missed her terribly, but she came back strong, happy, and tan from playing quidditch.  Most importantly, after her very last game. She came back with two new rings. A championship ring and a wedding ring. It wasn’t quite as impressive as the matching collars Knatalie and I had, but humans will be humans and would rather wear rocks on their hands. My best pal finally got his best girl forever.
KC wasn’t the only new addition to the McNully family that year. I didn’t think there could ever love a girl as much as I loved my Knatalie. Until I saw Knellie.  She was the cutest knitten and I am so proud to be her dad.
My growing family stayed home at the cottage in Kenmare while Murphy and KC stayed with her dad in the city. Knatalie and I were good for Nanna and helped her tend to the people who would visit seeking her care after the war. It was a sad time for everyone in the community. For Knatalie and me, it was one of the happiest. Knathaniel was born just before the war ended. My guy and his girl were surprised with a brand new knitten to celebrate their return to Kenmare.
Muphy has been hard at work since his retirement from commentary. He spends long hours at the castle ruins down the hill from the new house. He and Katriona are building a summer camp to teach quidditch to kids before they start their formal training at school.
The first summer of the camp was a success. I met all the new students and got lots of treats. One student had a crup pup to help him through his daily routine, another had a kneazle who could detect when she felt ill. I loved making these great new fuzz friends and enjoyed watching them work. It was a wonderful surprise to find we kneazles are good for more than just cuddling and setting such a terribly biased story straight.
After a few years for teaching quidditch, my girl KC got sick and sleepy. Knatalie and KC spent most of their day together, sleeping and coughing up hairballs. KC felt much better after the kiddens arrived. Kiddens? I presume that’s what to call human knittens? Shortly after, Knatalie and I had twins of our own, Knancy and Kned. The estate had never seemed so full and lively.
It’s just the four of us again, as Kned and Knancy have accompanied Gwen and Amari to school. Knellie and Knathaneil are working for kids who attended the summer camp. Knellie’s an assistant to a boy with poor vision. Knathaniel monitors his girl for oncoming seizures brought on by an irreversible spell. I’m a proud dad.
I’m a proud pet, too. I tease them for the wait, but I’m proud of my buddy Murphy for making it all come together. It wasn’t always easy, and if I talked, I would tease him for his oblivious mistakes all day, but he finally got the story he deserved.  
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flareshin · 1 year
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Merry Christmas @kc-and-co
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I wish you merry merry Christmas 🎄🎁🎄🎁 lot of gifts, wonderful holidays and a relaxing time!!!! 💙❤️💚💛
Kate and McNully are helping Santa
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that-scouse-wizard · 2 years
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Through Thick and Thin
Day 4 of @cursebreakerfarrier‘s Back to School challenge (a day late I know 😂) Technically takes place before Hogwarts but this was too good not to use with these two. Characters mentioned here belong to @kc-and-co and @lifeofkaze 
Robin bounced excitedly in her seat as the car came to a crawl before stopping. To muggles, the castle in front of them would have looked ominous and decrepit, not a place any sane person would want to go exploring. For Robin however, the ancient structure was a place she had been excited about since her parents had first proposed the idea to her. Today was the day she and Nick would be attending Katriona Cassiopeia’s famous quidditch camp.
Though she was far more enthusiastic than her twin by a country mile, Nick seemed pleased to have finally arrived as well.
The family exited their vehicle, Robin practically launching herself towards the boot, where her rucksack was stored. “Excited?” David asked, chuckling as he opened it up for her, she snatched the bright yellow Wimbourne Wasps rucksack. Nick by contrast took his dark blue one out much more calmly.
“Right kids, remember. Everything you need is those rucksacks, write to us if you get homesick and most important, be careful. Yeah?” David asked, Robin nodding vigorously, whilst Nick did similar.
“With Rath and Cassiopeia around, I’m sure you’ll be in good hands, stay out of trouble you two.” Merula warned light-heartedly, with Robin due to meet up with Reva, chaos was bound to occur.
“Will do mum and dad, love you!” Robin called as she began sprinting for the castle, “I’ll race you Nick!”
“Hey that’s cheating!” Nick shouted after her, giving both of his parents a brief hug before taking off after his sister.
David and Merula beamed, his arm over her shoulder as they watched their children running for the camp, “You know that without us or the Amaris around Robin and Reva are going to be completely uncontrolled, right?” Merula asked.
“Oh yeah,” David nodded in agreement, “I gave Murph and KC the heads up, they’ll think of something for them.”
“I hope you’re right,” Merula laughed, finally turning her attention from the kids towards her husband, “In the meantime, we’re free to do whatever we want.” David smirked as Merula gave him a knowing look, they rarely had time away from the kids nowadays, they aimed to make the best of it.
Robin cheered triumphantly, entering the foyer where several other children who were first timers had gathered. Even going so far as to do a victory pirouette and bow, she had won the race against her brother. Nick came in shortly after, rolling his eyes at Robin’s showboating. Just as she was about to start jokingly gloating, a squeal of delight cut her off.
“Robin!” It was none other than Reva Amari, who immediately tackled her best friend, Robin happily returning the vice-like grip.
“Have you got the snacks?” Robin asked, Reva nodded.
“Have you got the drinks?” Reva asked in response, Robin returned the nod.
The two of them giggling at the thought of the epic midnight feast that would be sure to come about, chock full of sweets, salty snacks and soft drinks. After a long day of quidditch and causing chaos, such a banquet was the perfect way to celebrate as well as defy any trivial ‘lights out’ rule.
“Alright first-timers, settle down.” The announcement came from Murphy McNully, the crowd of children falling silent as he wheeled over to them, followed by an imposing Erika Rath, “Now as I’m sure you’re aware we have four teams for you to join up with, Rowan’s Ravens, Dora’s Dragons, Freddie’s Foxes and Llewelyn’s Lions. For those who already know what it is the teams do, feel free to choose. If not, Miss Rath hear can explain their functions. In the meantime, I would like to have a word with Reva Amari and Robin Willows.”
A few curious glances went the duo’s way but for the most part, no one but Nick knew who they were. Those who already knew what each house stood for rushed to boxes containing the jerseys. Others began queuing up for questions directed at Erika. In the middle of the chaos, Robin and Reva held each other’s hands so they wouldn’t lose each other.
As Murphy waved his wand to begin levitating his wheelchair up a set of stairs, the girls followed after him, giving them an overhead view of the others below. Robin seeing Nick now donning the pink of Dora’s Dragons, they were focused more on broom making, team management and playing the game at an introductory level. Something that Robin thought would be suited for Nick.
“Now then,” Murphy began as he lead the two of them into his office, “I hear the two of you have a certain talent for pranks.” Both girls grinned at that they did enjoy it, especially if the target was either Dylan or Nick.
“Judging by your smirks I’d say there’s an 89% chance of what your parents have told me being right. Which is perfect as I have a special assignment for the two of you,” Murphy’s statement peaked the girl’s interest, “I happen to believe I’m at least somewhat successful at picking out people with the potential to be great quidditch players, so far I’ve been proven right with David, Lizzie, Orion and even my darling wife. I believe the best way is to get them to hone their talents. However, in your case, I feel that we can channel your innate desire towards mischief-making for not just your own benefits but even the entire camp!”
Robin and Reva gave each other, and Murphy, a puzzled look. Where exactly was he going with this?
“That’s why, I want the two of you to start a prank war with each other.” There was a long pause as such a revelation stunned the two girls.
“You’re serious?” Robin asked, just the faintest hint of joy seeping into her tone. Reva was pinching herself to be sure it wasn’t a dream.
“Indeed,” Murphy grinned, “There are a few things to consider. For one, do nothing that would damage equipment, do not target staff members and above all else, do not tamper with my wife’s coffee.” Both girl’s nodded, shuddering at the last point, being fairly confident nothing would placate Katriona Cassiopeia’s rage if that were to happen.
“Excellent! Now, go fetch your jerseys, I’m sure you’d both make a fine addition to Llwelyn’s Lions.”
The two of them were positively giddy with excitement at being allowed almost free reign to do whatever they wanted as far as pranking went. Yet even so, they scrutinised each other, silently trying to come up with the best way to get ahead in the coming prank war. Even as they took on the Lion’s lavender colouration, they dared not turn their back on the other.
They both rounded a corner into the mess hall, all students from every house were gathered there, enjoying a banquet of sandwiches and cakes with juice and water as refreshments. At the centre piece was a beautifully baked Victoria sponge, somehow untouched and so perfect for smashing into someone’s face.
Robin and Reva looked at each other, they began slowly walking towards the cake, that became a light jog, then a run until finally it was a full on sprint. Robin had always been faster off the broom and reached the cake first. Yet, Reva slammed into her, planting Robin’s face into the cake. Robin was down briefly but far from out. She took a fistful of cake, cream and jam before smearing into Reva’s face.
With that declaration of war made, the food fight soon became a free for all. Something sure to go down in the history books as one of the greatest welcome’s to the quidditch camp.
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If the Shoe Fits
A/N #1: It is now time for the first fic of my new series: the Quidditch series! One MC other than my own makes an appearance in this fic and it is none other than Katriona Cassiopeia, created by the lovely @kc-and-co!
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“Ugh! Can you believe the amount of homework we already have?” said Alice, dragging her feet as she followed Rowan to the Great Hall. 
“It’s not that bad,” said Rowan, turning around.
“Not that bad? We have–” started saying Alice before being interrupted by the Ravenclaw Quidditch team slamming the door leading to the courtyard open.
Alice and Rowan observed them as they carried one of their teammates to the infirmary. Their friend Andre’s face was pale as he entered the infirmary with the others.
“What do you think happened?” asked Alice to Rowan.
Rowan shrugged. “By the looks of it, nothing good.”
“Andre did look pale,” pondered Alice.
“I guess we can ask him about it later. Come on, let’s go eat,” said Rowan as she pulled her friend toward the Great Hall.
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As the two friends ate their meals, discussing the various essays they would have to start writing later, they saw Andre enter the Great Hall. Alice waved to him, and he quickly made his way to her, sitting next to his fashion muse.
“Is everything ok?” asked Alice as Andre placed some food on his plate. 
“One of my chasers got hit by a bludger during practice,” said Andre, sighing.
“Wait, you were practicing today? It’s like 3 degrees outside! Are you trying to torture your team?” exclaimed Alice.
“We don’t have a choice. Our match is in less than two weeks. Though with one less chaser, any practice feels futile, especially against Slytherin.”
“Don’t you have reserve players?” asked Rowan, pushing her glasses up her nose.
“Technically, yes, but unfortunately, most have joined other clubs and are busy with those. I guess I could ask the ones that aren’t busy, but none are chasers,” explained Andre, staring at the food on his plate.
“You could always hold tryouts?” suggested Alice.
“ Less than two weeks before the game? In Ravenclaw? Most people in our house are too busy to bother. I guess I can kiss goodbye to the cup this year,” said Andre, pushing a piece of carrot with his fork.
“Don’t be so defeatist. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
“But Andre is 91% right,” said a voice behind them.
Alice turned around to see a blond boy in a wheelchair.
“Oh, hey McNully,” said Andre at the new arrival. He noticed Alice and Rowan staring at Murphy, clearly not knowing who he was. “This is Murphy McNully,” he said to the girls. “He’s the Quidditch commentator. McNully, these are Rowan Khanna —”
“Pleasure to meet you,” interrupted Rowan. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. I do enjoy your thorough analysis of Quidditch.”
“Thank you,” replied McNully, beaming. He looked toward Alice, “And this must be Alice Beaumont, Hogwarts’ famed Curse-Breaker and the one who saved Charlie Weasley from breaking into a million pieces.”
“You know who I am?”
Rowan raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Alice, after defeating three Cursed Vaults, do you really think there’s someone in this school who doesn’t know you?”
“I would say around 89.3% of students know who you are. The others being the first years who might not have heard about your exploits yet,” said McNully.
“That’s awfully precise,” said Alice, staring at him.
“It’s his thing,” replied Andre.
“Yes, well, I think we should talk about what strategy to adopt to increase our chances to win against Slytherin. Or at least for the match to not be a complete massacre,” said McNully, pointing to a pile of leather notebooks resting on his knees.
“I guess we could do that now. I’m not hungry anyway,” said Andre as he got up. 
“We’re done eating, so I guess we’ll follow you out,” said Rowan as Alice took one last mouthful of cake.
As they followed the two boys out of the Great Hall, Alice whispered to Rowan, “Why did you say we were done eating? I was clearly not done with my cake.”
“I just thought we should start working on our homework,” she said, staring at the back of McNully’s head.
Alice looked in the direction Rowan was looking. Her lips formed a mischievous smile. “Oooh, I see. You have a thing for stats boy.”
“I just find his analysis interesting.”
“But I don’t think I ever saw you attend a Quidditch match.”
“He writes about the matches in the school’s paper.”
“I see… Wait, we have a school newspaper?”
“Honestly, Alice, sometimes I feel like you live under a rock.”
They bumped into a redhead as the small group entered the Entrance Hall. 
“Hey, KC,” said Andre.
“Hey, Captain. Already done eating?” asked KC.
Andre nodded as McNully said, “Yes. We are now off to see how the team can salvage your next match.”
KC smirked. “Aren’t you suppose to be impartial?”
“In the commentary box, yes. But as a member of the House of Ravenclaw, I want our team to crush Slytherin.”
“Fat chance of that,” scoffed a voice Alice knew all too well.
“Merula,” said Alice through gritted teeth, Rowan holding one of her arms to restrain her from going after the Slytherin pest.
“You have no chance to beat Slytherin with a missing chaser, not to mention you won’t be able to find a decent replacement in time,” continued Merula, oblivious to Alice.
“Nobody asked for your opinion,” grumbled Andre as he tried walking away.
“You know I’m right, Egwu. It’s written all over your face. Better forfeit now than face ridicule when Slytherin makes mincemeat out of Ravenclaw,” jeered Merula.
KC rolled her eyes before going inside the Great Hall, clearly not caring for Merula’s taunts. As for Andre, he did his best to ignore her, but his clenched fists betrayed the effect she was having on him.
“Just leave him alone, Merula. You’re not even on the Quidditch team, so what do you care,” said Alice, freeing her arm from Rowan’s grip.
“Because it’s about time you lot realize that Ravenclaw is a house of losers, just like you, Beaumont,” said Merula, laughing as she turned around, heading for the dungeons.
“I swear I will—” started saying Alice as she reached for her wand in her robe’s pocket, only to find it empty. She turned around to see Rowan holding her wand, pleading with her eyes for Alice not to do anything rash. 
Alice turned back to see Merula getting further away. Without thinking, she removed one of her shoes and, after a brief moment to take aim, threw it straight at Merula’s head.
“OW!” said Merula, rubbing the back of her head as she looked to the ground. “Is that all you have, Beaumont? A shoe? I’ll show you what the Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts can do,” she said, taking out her wand.
Alice grabbed her wand from Rowan, and as she did, she saw Flitwick was heading their way. She accio’ed her shoe back to her and put it back on just in time for Flitwick to see Merula in a duelling stance and everyone else just staring at her.
“Miss Snyde, what are you doing?” asked Professor Flitwick, frowning.
“Beaumont threw a shoe at me!” exclaimed Merula, pointing at Alice with her wand.
Flitwick looked at Alice’s feet where both of her shoes were. He looked back at Merula, an eyebrow raised. “It seems like Miss Beaumont has both of her shoes on. Miss Snyde, I am afraid I will have to take 50 points from Slytherin for trying to start a duel outside of the club and without supervision.”
“But she—,” tried to interject Ismelda.
“Miss Murk, I think it would be best if you and Miss Snyde headed to your common room to avoid any more trouble,” sternly said Professor Flitwick.
Merula let out a grunt before turning back toward the dungeons with Ismelda.
“Miss Beaumont,” started Professor Flitwick, looking down at her shoes, “just a reminder that shoes are meant to be worn on feet and not used as projectiles.”
“Yes, Professor,” said Alice, eyes wide.
“And I shall suggest the same thing to you and Miss Khana that I suggested to Miss Snyde and Miss Murk.”
“Yes, Professor,” said Alice and Rowan in unison.
“I bid you good night then,” he said, walking away.
Rowan let out a sigh of relief once their Head of House was out of sight. “You were really lucky there, Alice.”
“Are you saying I can’t aim?”
“No! I was talking about Professor Flitwick letting you go! You shouldn’t have thrown that shoe in the first place!”
“Aw, come on! You can’t tell me seeing Merula get hit by a shoe wasn’t fun, right? It was sure fun doing it,” replied Alice, grinning.
Rowan shook her head, a small smile appearing. “I swear you’ll be the death of me, Alice. But fine, it was fun seeing that shoe land straight at the back of her head.”
“That’s the spirit. You okay, Andre?” asked Alice, who had nearly forgotten about her other friend. 
Andre simply nodded, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide. 
“He kinda looks odd to me,” said Rowan, narrowing her eyes as she looked at him.
“He’s perfectly fine,” said McNully, tapping his friend’s back. “Just surprised you, uh, got away with it.”
Alice shrugged. “He should be used to it by now, but whatever. We’ll see you later in the common room,” she said, waving as she climbed up the Grand Staircase with Rowan.
Once they were gone, Andre turned to McNully. “Did you see that?”
“She has a pretty good aim; I’ll give her that. There’s a 75% chance she could make a decent chaser.”
“Our game against Slytherin may not be completely lost!” exclaimed Andre.
“Woah! Slowdown, Egwu. That 75% chance is if she had started to train in September or October, not less than two weeks before a match! If she started to train tomorrow, she’d have a 55.3% chance of being a decent chaser against Slytherin.”
“It’s still above 50%!”
“Maybe, but, as I said, it’s if she starts training tomorrow. You still have to convince her to play.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Either you are joking, or you are delusional. Are you forgetting that Rakepick is already keeping her busy most of the time because of the portrait curse?”
“Oh, please. Every time I hear Alice mention her, it’s with contempt in her voice.”
“Maybe, but it’s the sister of one of her friends who is stuck there, so I am 100% certain that getting Beatrice Haywood out of there will remain her top priority. Then, there are the O.W.L.s’ exams, not to mention her detentions.”
“I forgot about those.”
“Yes, well, I’m 95% sure that even if she wanted to forget about them, Khanna would not let her. So between that and the Curse, I’m afraid Alice Beaumont has very little time for Quidditch.”
Andre stared at him, an eyebrow raised. “McNully, can I ask you something?”
“No, I am not making up these statistics.”
“Not what I wanted to ask. No, what I want to know is, what are our odds against Slytherin if one of our remaining reserve team players plays as a chaser?”
“Not great, since none were put on the reserve because of their chasing skills.”
“Are the odds better with a barely trained Alice?”
“Considering her raw potential, competitiveness, and dislike of a certain Slytherin, I would say yes. The last two qualities could be explosive when combined, which might lower the odds.”
“That’s all I need to know,” said Andre as he climbed up the stairs.
“But, Andre, I already told you….”
Andre abruptly turned around. “Look, I’m desperate. Our injured chaser won’t be able to play for the rest of the season. I need someone who can not only help us against Slytherin but also against Gryffindor. Alice might just be what we need against those Lions.”
“Gryffindor? What does Alice Beaumont have to do with the Gryffindor team?” shouted McNully after Andre, who was already gone.
McNully furrowed his eyebrows. 
Clearly, he was missing some stats about Gryffindor’s team and the Curse-Breaker.
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A/N #2: Hope you enjoyed the first installment of my Quidditch series. As I have said in the past, even though this will be my main project, I will probably write fics unrelated to the series to keep my creativity flowing. Also, this series will include fics more about the 5th-year plot than about Quidditch, but Quidditch will always be somewhere in the background (especially as Alice befriends some members of her team).
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slytherindisaster · 1 year
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Full Name: Elisabeth Marigold Parker
Nicknames: Lizzie (everyone); Liz; Lisa (by Jacob)
Birthday: July 29, 1973
Zodiac: Leo
Blood Status: half-blood
Gender Identity: who even knows at this point (mostly goes by she/they)
Sexuality: bisexual
Nationality: British
Hometown: Maidstone, Kent, England
PERSONALITY
Myers-Briggs Type: ENFJ (The Protagonist)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Strengths: intelligent, ambitious, loyal, honest, creative
Weaknesses: competitive, stubborn, hot-headed
Interests/Hobbies: researching, writing, duelling
APPEARANCE
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Faceclaim: Lindsay Lohan
Voiceclaim: Ciara Baxendale
Height: 5ft 6in / 167cm
Build: average
Hair: red
Eyes: green
Skin: pale, freckled
Body Modifications: pierced ears, several tattoos
Scars/defects: multiple small scars on her hands, wrists and thighs; chipped left ear
Fashion:
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WITCHCRAFT
1st Wand: Aspen, Unicorn Hair, 12 inches, reasonably supple
Wand-quality aspen wood is white and fine-grained, and highly prized by all wand-makers for its stylish resemblance to ivory and its usually outstanding charmwork. The proper owner of the aspen wand is often an accomplished duellist, or destined to be so, for the aspen wand is one of those particularly suited to martial magic. Aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.
2nd Wand: Red Oak, Unicorn hair, 11 inches, solid
You will often hear the ignorant say that red oak is an infallible sign of its owner’s hot temper. In fact, the true match for a red oak wand is possessed of unusually fast reactions, making it a perfect duelling wand.
Animagus Form: orange cat/european shorthair
Patronus: kneazle
Boggart: Jacob (later Rowan) saying she is cursed and blaming her for not being able to save their loved ones
Riddikulus: she listens to what they have to say instead of casting the spell
Amortentia
what do they smell like to others?: elderflower, cocoa, pine, hay
what do they smell?: butterbeer, floo powder, broom polish, mowed grass
Favorite Spells: Bombarda, Incendio
Misc. Magical Abilities: Apparition; Nonverbal Magic; Occlumency
HOGWARTS
House: Slytherin
Best Subject: History of Magic, DADA
Worst Subject: Potions
Third Year Options: Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, Divination
N.E.W.T.s: History of Magic, DADA, Transfiguration, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Astronomy
Extracurriculars: Duelling Club (4th to 7th year)
Quidditch Position: Keeper (3rd to 7th year)
AFTER HOGWARTS
more of less tbd as of now
RELATIONSHIPS
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Father: Anthony Parker
Mother: Perpetua 'Tilly' Parker (née Brokenshire-Rosier)
Half Brother: Jacob Mallow Parker
Pets: a toad named Roger
Dormmates: Merula Snyde; Ismelda Murk; Liz Tuttle; Jules Farrier @cursebreakerfarrier
Closest Friends: Rowan Khanna, Ben Copper, Bill Weasley, Andre Egwu, Jae Kim
Friends: Nymphadora Tonks, Tulip Karasu, Barnaby Lee, Charlie Weasley, Julian Bennett, Irena Janda; Jules Farrier, Azariah Steele, Margot Dawes, Will Scarborough, Kester Stagg @cursebreakerfarrier; Katriona Cassiopeia, Reid Van de Lune @kc-and-co; Marti Venturi @smarti-at-smogwarts; Ryan O'Donnell, Sara O'Donnell, Cara O'Donnell, Conor O'Donnell @unfortunate-arrow; Isabelle Dubois @endlessly-cursed; Lizzie Jameson @lifeofkaze; Cato Reese @catohphm
Love Interests: Jae Kim, Erika Rath
FAVORITES
Color: emerald green
Food: dark chocolate
Flower: lily of the valley
Drink: butterbeer
Book: Quidditch Through the Ages
Music: anything by Queen
Season: autumn
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thatravenpuffwitch · 2 years
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Day 3: Breakfast
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For @kc-and-co’s Spring Break Challenge!
Okay. I really only meant to write a couple lines of dialogue for this. Instead I wrote a couple hundred words. So enjoy a breakfast with the Hopper-Lee family set in the summer of 2003! Basically, this is just a bunch of fluff that I barely edited lol.
Katriona Cassiopeia is also referenced in unnamed mention.
“Mummy, can we have boo-berry muffins now?”
With a bit of orange juice dripping down his chin, Ellie’s 3-year-old son Patrick peaked his head over the large bowl of muffin batter. Laughing softly, Ellie tilted the bowl towards him so he could take a look at the mixture inside. 
“Not quite yet, Pat. I think we’re missing one very important ingredient. Don’t you?"
“Oh!” He gasped, “the boo-berries!”
“That’s right. And we can’t have blueberry muffins without the blueberries! Good thing Daddy and Rylie went out to pick some more, yeah?” 
As Patrick nodded his head enthusiastically, Ellie summoned plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and waffles which appeared on the table with a wave of her wand. 
It was then that the kitchen door opened to reveal Ellie’s husband Barnaby, carrying a pail of blueberries in one arm and their daughter Rylie in the other. 
“Morning, Love,” he said, kissing Ellie on her cheek. 
Barnaby handed off the blueberries to her and began fixing plates of food for Rylie and Patrick. 
Knowing that the patience of their two toddlers would only last for so long, Ellie wasted no time sprinkling the fresh blueberries into the batter. She carefully scooped an even amount into the muffin tin and placed it in the oven. She set a timer on her wand, then took a sip from her large mug of coffee which read, "I Heart New York" in bold red letters— a gift from her cousin. 
After a few minutes, a familiar fruity, spicy vanilla scent began to fill the air. Barnaby cut Patrick's waffle into bite-sized pieces, and Rylie tried to covertly feed a piece of bacon into the sleeve of her jumper. By the state of her daughter’s disheveled plait and the green-leafed head poking through the cuff of her jumper, Ellie knew what she was up to.
“Will Hercules Mulligan Jr. be joining us for breakfast?” Ellie asked, raising her eyebrows at Barnaby. “Again…”
Realizing that she’d been caught, Rylie froze with her hand still inside her jumper and looked between her parents with wide eyes. 
“Clover, remember I told you that feeding the bowtruckles bacon will give them tummy aches.” Barnaby spoke softly, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. “Why don’t you let me take Hercules back outside so he can be with his family too?”
Rylie smiled sheepishly and turned her hand over to place the bowtruckle onto Barnaby's shoulder. But before he could get up, the alarm on Ellie's wand began to buzz. 
"My boo-berry muffins!" Patrick shouted, waving his fists in the air.
Ellie removed the muffins from the oven and opened the cupboard in search of a platter large enough to fit the dozen. After rifling around for a few seconds, her hand grasped the handle of a woven basket and she was struck with a new idea.
“Or maybe we could go together to deliver Hercules Mulligan back to his family," Ellie grinned. "And take the rest of our breakfast as a picnic?” 
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cursebreakerfarrier · 2 years
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-> excuse my dumbass for only realising this now, but can y’all believe that my handsome, stubborn, feral son Liam Cairncross (and by marriage my beautiful confused child Vienna) is first cousin once removed to THE legendary Katriona Cassiopeia??!! @kc-and-co
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immagrosscandy · 3 years
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candy draws mcs! pt 1
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Carmilla Frank for @carmilla-the-bird
Cato Reese for @catohphm
Gwendolyn Gordon for @drinkyoursoupbitch
(i got to draw wendy again after a long time its like a redraw :'v)
Arjun Singh for @hogwarts9
Katriona Cassiopeia for @kc-needs-coffee
Madeline Orionswan for @madelineorionswan
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lifeofkaze · 1 year
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A Search for Balance
CHAPTER 24: CROSS THE LINE
Find the masterlist with all chapters of this story here, the previous chapter here, and the next one here.
Tagging: @flareshogwarts
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A/N: Katriona Cassiopeia belongs to my wonderful @kc-and-co
Orion had never minded being on his own, but with the prospect of spending Christmas with no one but his dismal thoughts for company, he had accepted his friends Murphy and Katriona’s invitation to their house in Kenmare gladly. 
Lizzie’s decision to return to Matthew had caught him unaware, to put it mildly. After her fight with Skye with Kenmare, she had picked up her bag and left without another word, and Orion had waited for her to come and talk to him in vain. When he had seen her next, she had been by Matthew’s side, his hand on her back and her engagement ring flashing on her hand. 
Katriona and Murphy were doing their best to distract him from his brooding thoughts, but Orion found it hard to share their festiveness, and kept mostly to himself. But giving his friends space was only part of the reason for his self-imposed solitude; every time he saw them stealing kisses under the mistletoe or cuddling up on the sofa, he was reminded of Lizzie and what he had foolishly thrown away, and every time, it hurt a little more. 
The end of the year came with rain and thunderstorms. Like most evenings, Orion was sitting on the ground in front of this window, listening to the heavy drops patter against the glass. It was a peaceful sound, and Orion was doing his best to capture the feeling, but in his head a storm matching the one outside was raging. He thought of the raindrops falling from the sky, how they were whipped about by the merciless winds. They had nothing to hold onto, to steady themselves. All they could do was fall. 
A knock on the door broke him from his gloomy thoughts. 
“Orion?” Katriona’s voice sounded from the other side. “Can I come in?”
The door opened and Katriona entered the room, a tray with two steaming mugs floating behind her. She cast a searching look around, shaking her head when she spotted Orion sitting on the floor. 
“I spent a fortune on the furniture, just so you know. Here,” she held a bronze, owl-shaped mug out to him, “everything’s better with some eggnog. Don’t worry, it’s vegan.”
Orion arched his eyebrows but accepted the mug anyway. “I wouldn’t exactly call eggnog vegan.”
“Just say thank you.”
The corners of Orion’s mouth twitched as he blew against his drink. “Thank you.” 
Katriona took the second cup - this one in the colours of the Caerphilly Catapults - and sat in the armchair next to the window. Both of them were quiet as they drank. A warm feeling soon spread through Orion’s body, and not only from the eggnog. Katriona’s presence calmed him; no matter how strong the storm was he was weathering, her friendship always was a fire to find shelter at. 
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you leaving night after night,” Katriona said after a while. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
Orion contemplated her question, then shook his head. “I only wanted to give you and Murphy space to enjoy the Christmas you had planned.”
“Don’t worry, we’re enjoying it alright,” Katriona giggled, the slight flush on her cheeks telling Orion that this wasn’t her first eggnog of the night. Her chuckle faded as she set her cup aside. “Orion, I’ve known you for half my life. I can see that something’s wrong with you. More than usual, that is.”
Despite himself, her teasing made Orion laugh. “With the light of your friendship shining through the winter storm, how could there be anything wrong? I feel better just for knowing that you’re here.”
Katriona hummed in response. “But I’m not the one you wished were here right now, am I?”
Orion’s smile dropped. “No.”
“No?” Katriona said after waiting for him to continue. “That’s it, nothing more? You’re worse off than I thought.” She slid from her armchair and sat on the floor with him, gently touching his arm. “I’m here for you, you know that. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’ll only judge you a little.”
This time, Orion didn’t laugh. 
“I made a terrible mistake,” he told Katriona quietly, before filling her in on everything that had happened since his return. How he had found out that Lizzie was engaged, and the surprising disappointment that had come with it; her warranted anger at him, and how they had rebuilt their friendship until Orion wasn’t so sure that friendship was what he wanted anymore. 
When Katriona heard about what Matthew had done to Lizzie after finding her keepsakes, her mouth dropped open in outrage, and she sighed deeply at the part that had come after. 
“It was foolish to hope, I know,” Orion finished his report, “but being with her felt like nothing had changed, and I genuinely thought she felt the same. I don’t know how I could be so wrong.”
Katriona was quiet, contemplating what she had heard. 
“I don’t think you were wrong at all,” she said eventually. “Lizzie changed after you were gone. We all thought fame had gotten to her head, but from how you describe it, it sounds like the old Lizzie is still in there somewhere.” 
Orion shook his head. “It’s not our place to judge who Lizzie has chosen to become. The only one she needs to be at peace with is herself. Only because the sun shines on us differently, doesn’t mean that she herself has changed.”
His voice had taken on a bitter ring. “The line I shouldn’t have crossed was plain for me to see, yet I did it anyway. I never stopped loving her, but by the time I realised it, it was too late for me to turn back. Asking for a second chance was gambling with fate, and here is what I got from it.” 
There was a short pause before Katriona snorted audibly. “Are you even listening to yourself? You’re sitting here in your room, whining about your fate over vegan eggnog as if there was nothing you could do about it.”
Orion frowned. “The universe -”
“Screw the universe,” Katriona said vehemently. “Love isn’t a Bludger you have to dodge. You’re a Chaser, so go and chase after what you want. If you want to be with Lizzie, you will need to fight for her.”
“It’s not me she wants.”
“Aren’t you?” Katriona asked. “Because from how I see it, it was you she came to when she didn’t know where to go. It was you who got her to be the Lizzie we all love again. And it’s definitely going to be you who will get whacked with my Beater’s Bat if you let her go without so much as trying. You two, you aren’t finished with each other, and don’t tell me otherwise.” The look on her face softened. “Trust me, Orion. The odds of finding love like yours are so small. You can’t just give it up like this.” 
“Easy for you to say.” 
Katriona’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The love story between you and Murphy is one for the ages,” Orion explained, hating himself for the jealousy rising in his chest. “Your love burns so brightly that it eclipses everything. It always has, long before you even knew it. The moment you two met on the Quidditch pitch your stars aligned, and that never changed. Your story was always fated to be happy.”
Katriona set her mug down on the carpet with a heavy thump. 
“Listen here now, Mister,” she snapped. “I’ve sat and listened to your whining and convoluted nonsense for the better part of my evening, but now you’ve crossed another line. Don’t you dare act like Murphy and I didn’t have our own challenges to overcome, because we bloody well did. 
“So what if we never doubted each other? Knowing you don’t want to be with anybody else doesn’t make spending two years apart any easier. Do you think it was easy for Murphy to be impartial when his colleagues at the Daily Prophet were talking about me? Do you think it was easy for me to give up my dream of being a Quidditch player so Murphy could go and live his?” 
She paused to catch her breath. “For him, I would do it all again in a heartbeat, but you weren’t even here for all of this. So don’t you ever dare to go and tell me again that Murphy and I had it easy.” 
Feeling the truth of her words, Orion inclined his head in apology.  “Forgive me. Over my own misery, I have forgotten that there can’t be light without a shadow.”
Katriona seemed content with his answer. “Murphy and I worked hard for our luck. Nothing good in this world comes from politely asking for it. Luck is earned by the choices we make and the things we deem worth fighting for.” 
She rose to her feet, collected their empty mugs on the tray and walked to the door. As she was about to close it behind her, she turned to Orion once more. 
“You said the line you crossed was plain to see. Here’s a little wisdom for you, for a change - from my own experience, the exciting parts are always those that lie beyond.” 
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carewyncromwell · 2 years
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“The love is gone... The love is gone... The sweetest dream that we had ever known... The love is gone... The love is gone. I wish you well, But I must leave you now, alone.”
~“When Love is Gone” from The Muppet Christmas Carol
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This is my own submission to the Orion Fan Club, showcasing some of the unique elements of my personal Orion Amari...in this case, Orion post-Hogwarts joining the Montrose Magpies as their Star Chaser and becoming a single father to a baby daughter, Eos. For more background on Orion, Delilah, Eos, and how Carewyn fits into their narrative, you can read these three posts, but to put it very simply in case you just want to jump into reading this, Delilah and Orion originally dated with the expectation of not committing or “settling down,” only for Eos to pop into their lives and Orion to immediately take to parenthood and Delilah to...well, not. Add the knowledge that Voldemort has returned to the world and is growing more and more powerful by the day, and yeaaah, you don’t have a great situation. Oh, yes, and there is a tiny reference to Katriona Cassiopeia in there, because I wub you, @kc-and-co! (Also adding tags for other OFC members @lifeofkaze @anthamariemayfair @lgvalenzuela @smarti-at-smogwarts​ @thegoldenbuccaneer​ 😘)
Hope you guys like this! Please consider liking, reblogging, and/or commenting, and I hope your day is going well 💚
x~x~x~x
The first night immediately following the fracture was the hardest. The deafening silence, only broken by his daughter’s crying -- the way every step seemed to echo endlessly, as if Orion’s small flat had suddenly become ten times its original size -- it made it that much harder for Orion to keep his mind clear.
He’d sent ten letters by owl post in the last five hours. But there was no response. None at all. 
He tried to calm himself -- tell himself that she just needed time, to think everything over...to steady her courage, to realize that he’d...
Orion cradled Eos in his arms that entire night, trying to keep his own heartrate steady by focusing on Eos’s breathing. It was all he could do, after her mother had unceremoniously dropped her in his lap and left with no apparent interest in returning. 
Orion awoke the following morning on his couch, Eos still sleeping in his arms. Once he got up to put her down for a proper rest, he then went to the open window. The owl had returned -- but there was no post anywhere. She had not replied at all that night. 
The Star Chaser tried to reach her by Floo Powder, but from what he could see and hear from her flat, there was no one there. Worse still, it looked like things had been disturbed. His heart prickling with anxiety, he immediately pulled his head out of the fire and walked right through so as to look around the flat himself...but what he saw made his heart only chill further.
At first his thoughts had been racing with the worst case scenario -- that she’d been robbed, or attacked, or worse still the Death Eaters had gotten in. But instead, all of the disruptions were orderly -- closets suddenly devoid of everything but hangers; drawers pulled out and completely emptied; all valuables taken, with only broken or unimportant trinkets left behind. And when Orion followed up with her superintendent, he found that she’d given the woman 30 days notice, but no forwarding address.  
Delilah hadn’t left involuntarily. She had packed up everything and vanished, purposefully, deliberately, and without regret. 
Orion returned to Eos sleeping at home. She hadn’t woken up in those thirty minutes, mercifully -- but it only served to make the whole space seem so much emptier, devoid of life or light. 
She’d left them. She’d left him and Eos, abandoned her daughter...
No. She hadn’t abandoned her. Delilah was afraid -- naturally she’d be afraid; everyone was. She especially had reason to be afraid -- the Flint family was Pureblood, likely the sorts to agree with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s principles, if not the wizard himself...
But she’d never been like them! Delilah had never cared about Orion’s ancestry, that he didn’t know his family or what blood they might’ve had -- she’d left her family home because she’d wanted to fly free, the way he had -- that was what they’d first connected on in the first place: the fact that she hadn’t wanted the typical married home life with a huge family and a white-picket fence --
He hadn’t wanted that either, but...
“You’ve made your choice clear, Orion.”
Orion held his head in his hand, his eyes half-closed. His blood was pumping so loudly in his ears, it felt like he was having a migraine. Rocking precariously over to the threadbare sofa, he landed with a flump on one of the old cushions.
Balance...he’d never had so much trouble finding it before. It was like the whole world was upside down and he couldn’t see what way was up.
Delilah had never wanted children. Orion himself hadn’t really thought he wanted them either. After being raised an orphan, he grew very used to not having an actual family, and he loved his place with his real family -- the Montrose Magpies -- too much to even consider retiring and settling down. Marriage had always seemed like such an arcane and fascinatingly pointless ritual, to him: a day that was given way more importance than it seemingly should, in comparison to the rest of one’s life. But then Eos came into their lives, and...
The memory of holding his baby daughter in that Healer’s ward made Orion’s heart flare with something oddly raw.
She had been so tiny -- so small and fragile, like a baby bird -- and yet her eyes were so big and so bright and so full of tears and uncertainty and fear...needing comfort, after the trauma of being born...of being brought into a world so darkened by the shadow of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And yet she had no clue how frightening things truly were -- could be comforted with even just the lightest rocking, the slightest gentle touch and word...looked up at him as if all she could see of the world was him, and that was enough, to comfort her and bring her joy...
How could he have not embraced that baby? How could he have not brought such an innocent, precious gift as Eos into his heart -- want to protect her and guard her, so that she’d never grow up afraid, the way he had? How could he have rejected her, dismissed her -- turned away from her? How could Delilah!?
The flare of emotion actually escaped out through Orion trying and failing to move a chair aside when he got up from the couch and actually kicking it out of his way. The loud clatter, however, seemed to bring him back down to earth -- his head shot up, the anger dissipating from his frame instantly as he stared at the overturned chair. 
After a long moment of breathing in and out, trying to steady his heartrate, Orion looked upon the chair with a much more unreadable, faintly melancholy expression and very slowly bent down beside it so he could stand it upright again. 
There had to be a way to make things right. There had to be some way he could restore balance, to this situation...make Delilah understand, make her see that things weren’t as hopeless as she thought -- that her financial troubles didn’t have to mean she’d have to give Eos up. That was what they’d been arguing about, in the first place -- or rather, Delilah was arguing, while Orion tried desperately to pacify her. Delilah had gotten into a lot of debt while living on her own with a newborn baby, and her job at the Magpies’ PR department wasn’t making ends meet. Orion had been helping out by taking Eos for half of every day and helping Delilah pay for Eos’s needs even though he and Delilah weren’t living together, but it seemed that Delilah was just in too deep of a hole and just didn’t know the best way to dig herself out of it. And the only people who had the financial means and motive to “rescue” her and provide her some protection in the midst of this darkening War was her family, the Flints...who never in a million years would’ve supported their daughter having a child out of wedlock with someone with mixed magical ancestry. And so if Delilah was going to move back in with her family, Eos would have to go to an orphanage. That was what Orion had been so desperately trying to talk Delilah out of.
“Delilah, please,” he pleaded with her, “a baby bird with no nest will struggle to fly. Even if they manage to learn how on their own, they will forever look at other nests and not understand them -- wish they could understand, and yet be afraid to, while knowing that such a nest was never meant for them. I know the life of a bird with no nest, with no stability or peace. Please...I couldn’t stand it, if my daughter ended up that way. Please...don’t subject Eos to that.”
There had to be something Orion could do -- there was nothing he wouldn’t do, if it would keep Eos from growing up in an orphanage, as he had. 
There...hadn’t been anything he wouldn’t have done...to keep Delilah and Eos in his life. He’d said as much to Delilah, in the first place.
“...Marry me. If...if it’ll help your finances, to move in with me -- to share my earnings, to -- pool what we have together...then marry me. We can be a family together here, in Montrose -- we can sell your flat, or mine, and take care of the other’s until we can save up enough to buy something bigger...like McNully and KC have, out in the country...”
Orion had felt nauseous suggesting any of this. He couldn’t bear the thought of putting his career on hold -- of traveling less and settling down permanently, of giving up his dream and freedom in favor of a “domestic ideal.” But instead of it softening Delilah’s expression at all, it only served to make her look paler than ever. 
“Then -- then we can keep her,” Orion had said through a weak smile. “We can raise Eos together -- she can live and grow happily and peacefully, with us...”
It was this sentiment that had made the light in Delilah’s eyes go out completely. 
“Since when have you wanted to marry and settle down, Orion?” she’d asked very softly. 
Orion’s weak attempt at a smile faded. His lack of response made Delilah get up and stroll over to the floor where she’d left Eos to crawl around. She bent down and scooped the infant up rather haphazardly -- Orion instinctively bolted forward, his hand up. 
“Her head -- !”
Eos’s head had been falling back, but Delilah fortunately ended up rocking her daughter’s head forward again when she’d hoisted herself back up onto her feet. Her brown eyes were very dull upon Orion’s face.
“You want her?” she said. “Here.”
Delilah nearly dropped Eos into Orion’s arms. Orion quickly adjusted his arms around the baby, holding her close to his chest and bringing a hand up quickly to support her head. The shift in gravity had made Eos start to cry, and Orion immediately tried to rock her gently up and down to comfort her. 
“Shhh...it’s all right, little Mooncalf...I’ve got you...”
Eos choked miserably as Orion rocked her. Delilah, however, merely stood back and watched her boyfriend holding their daughter, her pale face becoming that little bit more full of conviction and resignation.
“I can’t recall you ever being willing to sacrifice your freedom for me,” she said lowly. “I didn’t think it was in your nature to sacrifice it for anyone.” 
Orion looked up at Delilah, confused. 
“You’ve made your choice clear, Orion,” she said very matter-of-factly. “You won’t sacrifice her for my sake -- not even for your own sake, when all she’ll do is cry and put you in debt and make things harder for you to go into hiding, when the Death Eaters come knocking. But you’ll sacrifice for her anyway.”
Orion’s eyes widened. Before he could get any argument out, though, Delilah had already turned her back.
“I hope she’s worth it, to you,” she said, her voice almost callous in how cool it was. 
When Delilah reached the door, she headed out and closed it behind her without another word. 
Seeing the images of that night on the inside of his eyelids was very painful, for Orion. He sat by the little make-shift crib he’d made out of cushions for Eos on his bedroom floor for a long time, his eyes closed, his legs crossed, and his hands clasped in his lap as he tried to meditate. But rather than finding balance, all it felt like was that he was drowning deeper and deeper in a cold pool. 
The gravity of the situation was like a lead weight on Orion’s shoulders. He was alone now -- alone, to take care of this little baby, while playing Quidditch professionally, in the height of a Second Wizarding War that was getting darker by the day as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named grew stronger...
Orion was an orphan. He had never had parents or a childhood home to return to, or even a surname that he knew for sure was really his. What did he know about being a father? What did he know about family at all...?
A soft, choked sob seemed to tap at Orion’s temple, easing him out of his fog and back above water. Eos had woken up from a bad dream and was just starting to fuss. 
At once Orion scooped the infant up and began to rock her up and down, the way she seemed to like. He didn’t say anything at first, instead just looking down at her with very dark, unreadable eyes. 
He wanted to say everything was okay, but it sounded dishonest, in his own mind. He wanted to tell his daughter everything would be all right...but at that moment, his lack of balance and the anxiety it caused him made it difficult to assure her of that. It made it difficult for him to be certain of anything.
This little baby was solely relying on him now...but how could she hope to lean on him for support, when he was so off-balance? How could he help her fly, when he felt like he’d collided so sharply with the ground and didn’t know how to get back up?
The memory of being knocked right off his broom by one of Erika Rath’s Bludgers during the match against Ravenclaw in his sixth year rippled over Orion’s mind, as did the terrible, shaky feelings he’d had in the Hospital Wing and after, when he felt like he would never be able to fly again.
And yet, bizarrely, that horrible feeling made something brighten at the back of Orion’s eyes. Because that feeling, as horrible as it was...had brought about a lot of good, as well.
“Maybe you can’t believe in yourself yet…but I hope you know just how many people do believe in you.”
“You’re our Captain, Orion. And you’re my friend. For as much as you frustrate me sometimes, and as much as I know I must exhaust you at others...winning the Quidditch Cup won’t mean a damn thing, without you.”
“Your team is 100% better with you as Captain. And that’s not just my statistics saying this -- I know plenty of other people think it too.”
The memories of Carewyn sitting with him in the courtyard that evening, and then of his best friends, Skye and McNully, in the Quidditch tent with the rest of his team the following day, was like a soothing wave crashing over his heart, washing away the tension and freezing cold that had crystallized over it. It filled him with this clean, empowering feeling: like taking a full, deep breath of fresh air after being stuck indoors for years. His heart suddenly felt like it could slow down -- his blood seemed to quiet, his spirit relaxing...
All at once, it was like he’d found the ground under his feet again, after being in free fall -- and yet, also, like he wasn’t chained down to it. He rocked himself back and forth on his feet, taking several more deep, stabilizing breaths. 
Find your center...
In his mind, he was back on his broom, balancing on one leg at the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch. On his left was Skye, and on his right, Carewyn, and surrounding him, the rest of his Quidditch family. Both Magpies and Slytherin Quidditch team members were there -- even other Quidditch friends like Andre Egwu, Oliver Wood, Erika Rath, and Katriona Cassiopeia were balancing there. And as they balanced, and Orion detached from everything like a bird simply enjoying flight, he could hear someone singing -- a phoenix-like voice that seemed to fill his heart with courage. 
“We can be heroes...just for one day...”
Orion opened his eyes, returning to earth and finding his daughter whimpering in his arms because he’d stopped rocking her. His lips curled up in a small, sad smile.
“I’m sorry, little Mooncalf,” he said softly. “It seems my mind drifted off without me.”
He began to rock her again in a leisurely movement that moved both up and down and back and forth like soothing ocean waves. The little baby blinked her big, watery eyes up at him, clearly still rather unsettled and upset -- Orion considered her for a moment as he rocked her. 
“Would a lullaby help, Mooncalf?” he asked his daughter serenely. 
The baby blinked up at him blankly. Orion smiled. 
“I assure you, the woman who first sang this for me has a much lovelier voice than I do...but I suppose, one hardly has to do something just because they are perfect at it...”
His black eyes softening, he adjusted Eos in his arms so that she was resting beside his chest and began to bob her very lightly up and down. 
“We're walking in the air -- We're floating in the moonlit sky... The people far below are sleeping as we fly... I'm holding very tight: I'm riding in the midnight blue... I'm finding I can fly so high above with you...”
And as Eos very slowly started to drift off to sleep, Orion realized how true the words really were.
He could fly, even with Eos with him. He would fly, somehow, and he’d teach her to fly, too...just like regular birds do. He’d hold on tight to her -- until one day, someday far, far away from this one...he’d be able to let go, so that she could fly on her own. And even then, they could still fly together, whenever she chose to fly back to him.
He’d made his choice. And as the years went by, more and more, Orion realized it was a choice he would’ve made a million more times over. 
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the-al-chemist · 2 years
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Happy birthday Kate!!!!!
It’s my beautiful friend @kc-and-co’s birthday today. Hope you have a day that is as amazing as you are 💛✨🧁 To celebrate, here is KC’s first ever stint as “cover witch” of Witch Weekly magazine. I hope you like it!
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kc-and-co · 2 years
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Like any good protégé of Orion Amari, Katriona Cassiopeia loves a good parable.
“What do I care, Murphy? I’m retired. It’s nice just to watch a match. I have love for both teams. Some of the players even went to quidditch camp. In a perfect world, everyone would win. Impartiality? I think you taught me that,” Katriona raised her sunglasses at her husband as she took a seat at his side in the press box.
In the match between the Chudley Cannons and the Ballycastle Bats, she genuinely had no opinions. As long as everyone had fun and played fairly, the outcome was none of her business. Sure, she had her reasons to like the Magpies and Harpies. After a misunderstanding in her youth, she had developed a distaste for Portree. Otherwise, she was only in attendance to enjoy the spectacle. Quidditch, after all, was her favorite escape. With Murphy and the twins, iced butter-beer latte, and the buzz of a lively pre-game atmosphere, there was more to enjoy than a silly rivalry.
“Yes, love. I do try to be impartial at least 94.6% of the time,” Murphy sighed. “But you see,” he said to the toddlers on his lap than to his indignant wife as she happily took in the sights while sipping her coffee, “a Chudley victory could make history. Their odds of actually doing it are around 2.59% but it is possible,” he rattled on to the children as the snitch was released and the game sprung into action.
Katriona smiled and continued to enjoy the sights and sounds of the thrilling game unraveling before her. Murphy’s numbers proved incorrect as Chudley maintained a small but significant lead over Ballycastle. She even allowed herself to be moved by the emotional crowd as the beloved underdogs held their own. Ballycastle would have to do something incredible to catch up to the lead the Cannons were gaining. She knew what she would call if she were captain, as she had been in school. It was the very same move she used in her first professional game as a catapult. It was her pride and joy, the Cassiopeia Clobber.
“Darling?” Murphy’s voice was weak as he watched three chasers take the form of a large W above the pitch. Murphy was rarely a nervous speaker, especially regarding quidditch, but the words nearly caused him to choke as he watched the Beaters fall into place in the alignment of Bats. The shape of the Cassiopeia constellation was apparent in the team’s formation. When he brought his gaze to Katriona, her blissful enjoyment of the peaceful day at the ballgame had vanished from her expression. He was relieved to see her eyes were closed as the play was executed without the results the Ballycastle Bats had expected. Chudley’s lead moved ahead once more.
“The Magpies can use it. The Wasps can use it. Wigtown can use it, I guess. Otherwise, my play is completely unauthorized. They didn’t even do it well. The kids at camp learn about the origin of this move but they know it is off-limits in gameplay. If these hapless wankers are going to use my move, they’d better damn well learn to execute it. Who the f-” Katriona stopped short and smiled at her children on Murphy’s lap.
She reached for Amari and tousled his bright blonde hair as she brought him to her own lap. “As papa was saying, we are here to watch Chudley make history. Won’t that be fun?” No change in her tone could hide the clench of her jaw or the tear that breached the lense of her oversized sunglasses.
With a weak laugh, Murphy moved the source of his wife’s caffeine from her reach. No amount of French Roast seemed healthy as he watched the vein in her neck throb under the pressure of the breath she so desperately needed to release. His hand remained on her back long after he wrapped his black and orange scarf around her. “Maybe you were that captain’s favorite player back in your glory days. Imitation is a form of flattery, right?”
“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness. I believe that was how Oscar Wilde put it,” Katriona huffed.
Murphy nodded. “Not quite the sentiment I was looking for. You love getting together with Orion and Erika, and me to make up new plays. It’s what brought us together. Look at what we’ve built from that. The people who work with us to put these ideas into motion have become so important to us. Perhaps more important than quidditch itself. If someone duplicates it, you’re just leaving your mark on the game,” he insisted with a pleading look on his face.
“You’re mostly right. I’ve done well. My friends have done well. Sharing is the best part of what we do,” Katriona smiled but quickly glared when she realized her latte was out of reach. Once Murphy returned her brew, she grinned into the mug. “Imitated, maybe. Duplicated? No. That would have meant victory,” she shrugged as the crowd erupted into celebration with the Chudley seeker as he grasped the snitch.
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judediangelo75 · 2 years
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Til Next Summer, Little Fox
‘Til Next Summer, Little Fox
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Amari McNully was many things.
And a quitter wasn’t one of them.
When he first got into Hogwarts, he had his heart set on becoming a Slytherin. To be a Quidditch champion in his own right, much like his mother did when she used to go to school. She and his father taught him all about the sport wizards and witches can come together and bond over.
His parents even created a camp, so already he was ahead of the pack.
All that was left to do was to be placed in his dream House and bring honor to his family name.
Only… it didn’t pan out that way.
When the Sorting Hat declared he was to be a Hufflepuff, he was crushed. Even more so when his twin sister got into the House he wanted and she had no desire to play Quidditch.
He could sit at the Hufflepuff table dejectedly as others around him laughed and chattered amongst themselves.
When he went home that Christmas, he spoken to his mother about his feelings about the entire thing. Talking to her always made him feel better.
Which it did.
Not only did he feel more at peace about the House he was placed in but also he made a little discovery.
An old mentor from his time at camp, a great friend to his parents, was a Hufflepuff alumni herself.
He always remembered the woman fondly.
Judith Winger. A witch with a strict training regime but with a heart of gold to match her eyes. She mainly trained with his team, the Freddie Foxes, which was the considered to produce the toughest team of Beaters.
She always applied pressure on them to hone their skills but was fair enough to stop and talk to someone if they were in a foul mood or they were pushing themselves too hard.
Amari always remembered little tidbits about herself she would share with him.
“My Papa used to be a Beater himself, teaching me some general basics while he was still alive.”
“I always used to meditate or go broom surfing in a quiet place before a match. A still and quiet mind can help in the long run.”
“You know if you asked your mom, she could probably show you the letterman jacket I designed for her when we were in school. I made one for her, Erika, Phoenix, and I with our house colors to wear around. Even with our nicknames inscribed on the back.”
“My gold fangs were a signature trade mark when I was school. My nickname was Tigress on the Quidditch Pitch.” “And you were Little Tigress outside of it!” “DAVID! FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME, I’M NOT LITTLE, YOU STUBBORN GIT!”
He enjoyed having Miss Judith as a mentor, and he could tell that she enjoyed having him as a mentee. She even gave him a pet name.
“Whatchu up to, little fox?”
“Can I help you little fox?”
“Aye, watch the sass there little fox before I made you run three laps around the track.”
One of Amari’s cherished items was a picture from when he was kid.
It was the last day at Camp Cassiopeia. The kids were free to do what they wished and Amari wanted to train with his favorite mentor before he leaves. Miss Judith was always down for some training.
Just as they were heading to store their bats, his mum appeared with a camera in hand, looking to capture some last minute memories of camp that year.
Not wanting to take a picture by himself. He looped his arm around the crook of Miss Judith’s elbow with a laugh.
“Come and take a picture with me, Miss Judith!” He remembered giggling as he said this. Giving a bright, happy expression to the camera lens, he gave his mother a peace sign before she took the picture. Katriona smiled at the pair as she snapped the picture before disappearing to make copies.
Before everyone left, his mum was able to print out the pictures. Before Judith could leave with her husband, Amari ran to find his favorite mentor.
“Ready to go, darling,” Talbott asked his wife, hugging her close while placing a soft kiss on her lips. Before she could reply, she heard a familiar voice calling out to her.
“Miss Judith, Miss Judith! Wait for a second!” Pale gold eyes glanced over to find a familiar styled mop of blonde hair hurdling up to her. Turning around with a smile, Judith stopped to see what the young McNully wanted.
“Hey there, little fox. How can I help you?” Amari stood in front her and her husband, panting to catch his breath before producing the photo of them, along with a pen.
“I-I was wondering if you can sign this before you go…” Judith took ahold of the physical evidence of her little fox catching her by surprise by having her take a picture with him.
The bright happiness that danced in his gray irises and the amused, confused shock reflecting in her own made her and Talbott smile. Tapping the pen against her cheek, she looked down at the young boy with careful thought before writing her message.
“Here you go, little fox.” Amari took back to the picture back to see what she wrote. He half expected to just see her name, but was pleasantly surprised to find a little message just for him.
‘Let people underestimate you… That gives you the chance to embarrass them! ‘Til next summer, little fox. - Judith Winger’
The young boy beamed at her before give her quick bear hug. Judith was happy to return it, ruffling his blonde locks before releasing him.
“Bye, Miss Judith and Mr. Talbott! See you next year!”
Amari forgot all about his little memento until after coming home from Christmas. When he discovered that his own teacher was a Hufflepuff herself. Going through his box filled with his old camp stuff, he found the photograph. It made him laugh a bit because she mainly wore her House colors, she couldn’t be more obvious if she tried.
Judith took pride that she was a Hufflepuff, and a fierce Beater to the boot. She wasn’t always a Quidditch champion but she was fantastic player to be remembered.
Before leaving to go back to Hogwarts, Amari made sure to keep the photo in his bag. While in the train ride back, he took out the picture and let her mento’s words written in her neat handwriting sink it his mind.
“I will do just that, Miss Judith. I hope I make you proud…”
Whenever Amari felt down, or overlooked, he would take out the picture from that fateful summer and remember her words.
‘Let them underestimate you… That gives you the chance to embarrass them!’
Talk to Amari McNully nice, or you might lose with a resounding “Checkmate.”
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And she is back at it again with another one! I’m not 100% yet but I felt inspired to do another drawing with a quick short story.
I did an old drawing of this by hand awhile back but I wanted to do a better job this time. I just turned 22 and have a new program to work with, let’s see the growth, let’s see the improvement.
And now here we are.
I hope you like your surprise @kc-needs-coffee ! Also a short classic David and Judith interaction, even when they’re much older @that-scouse-wizard 🤣
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