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Chapter Text

For a moment you are cut off from the world as everything goes dark, the bustling sounds of the crowded train station fade away and you can't feel the air on your skin as you hurry forwards while pushing the trolley. Then you can see once more, and draw to a halt on a much calmer platform.

Light filters down from a glass roof and casts a warm glow along the tracks. Shadows move with the few witches and wizards already gathered, their quiet conversation emphasised by the strange emptiness of the station.

A thin white cloth covers a special piece of cargo on your trolley. You remove it with a flourish, unveiling a large silver cage that holds a niffler; a small creature with a black, fluffy and rounded body, black beady eyes that sparkle with curiosity, and a bill that can curve ever so slightly into a smile. It isn't curved now - she is too indignant at being shut up in her cage.

"There's my lovely girl," you coo affectionately, slipping a finger between the cage bars to scratch beneath the niffler's bill, to which she closes her eyes and gracefully accepts despite her grouchiness. "Sorry to keep you cooped up, Fifi. I'll let you out on the train."

You look again to the other people and begin pushing the trolley with purpose towards one man in particular, pale with a mop of brown hair, a tailored waistcoat and leaning on a cane with a gold top while he talks animatedly with another man, taller with more tanned skin and also wearing a tailored waistcoat. You move behind the pale man and tap him on the shoulder. "Professor Viktor?"

The man jumps a little, gripping his cane as he turns to you quickly, then relaxes. "Of course it's you." Viktor's voice is soft and quiet, not the way of somebody who was shy but as if he expected people to listen closely. "Who might this be?" he asks, looking over the cage.

"This is Fief - she's gorgeous, isn't she?" you say, looking proudly back at your niffler. It’s smart of Viktor to ask after your pets before you. "The name suits her perfectly, if you were wondering."

"I can imagine," Viktor murmurs, nodding approvingly at Fief who wags her little stump of a tail. Viktor was of course perfectly knowledgeable in the field of magical creatures, given he was in charge of teaching Care of Magical Creatures. "And you? You look well. No visible burns or scratches, at the very least."

"No, they've mostly healed," you say nonchalantly. "And you look..."

You recognise your mistake as you regard Viktor properly. His pale skin is more grey than it should be, there are small but noticeable eye bags that make his golden eyes look more sickly than you remember, and while the cane had never made him look worse, he seems to be putting more weight on it.

"You look... Well."

"Still an awful liar," Viktor mutters, rolling his eyes but the corner of his lip quirks upwards in good spirit. His eyes then fall on the other man, who was pretending to admire Fief as you talked, who in turn was admiring his shiny cuffs. "This is Jayce, my associate. You'll get along, he only started teaching at Hogwarts last year."

You turn to Jayce who straightens up as if expecting to be evaluated. "Nice to meet you," you say, smiling. He looks familiar. He can't be that much older than you…

"Yes, it's very good to meet you," says Jayce, stepping forward and holding out a hand. You shake it. "I'm Jayce Talis. I teach charms at Hogwarts." He then flashes a grin and for a moment you're blinded by shiny white teeth. When you recover you notice his golden-flecked eyes which shine much brighter than Viktor's, with a definite vitality about him. There is a nick in one of his eyebrows, but otherwise he was clean-shaven and admittedly handsome.

"I'll bet you do," you mutter, taking back your hand before speaking up properly. "You're already a teacher? You don't seem much older than me."

Jayce grins again, causing you to squint through the bright flash of his teeth. "I've always been interested in progressing quickly. What could lead to more progress than working under Heimerdinger alongside talented witches and wizards, all while teaching the next generation?"

As he talks he holds one hand behind his back and gestures with the other. The way he talks sounds rehearsed.

"That's how he talks," confirms Viktor, examining Fief at a respectful distance through the silver bars.

You nod slowly, smiling politely. "How... Professional."

Jayce's chuckles out of embarrassment as he puts both hands behind his back. "Sorry, I just wanted to make a good first impression. I've just heard a lot about you - you'll be Viktor's new assistant, yes?"

"Yeah, although I think I'll be working in the creature reserve more than helping Viktor with lessons and such." Just the idea of going back to the creature reserve and being allowed to handle all the creatures who live there excites you.

"Really? Sky mostly worked in the library and greenhouses so I thought you'd be doing the same. Aren't you here to… replace her?" enquires Jayce, glancing at Viktor.

"Who?"

"Jayce is twenty-seven, only three years older than you," Viktor cuts in. "He was captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team for his last two years, and Head Boy."

You look over Jayce once again. Now that you think about it he could resemble one of the old Gryffindor team but it was always hard to tell what people looked like under those helmets the teams always wore within games. You'd never been particularly interested in quidditch during your time at school anyway.

"It's beginning to ring a bell..."

A loud, familiar whistle echoes through the sparse platform and the next moment a great red locomotive pulls into the station and comes to a screeching halt, steam billowing from its chimney to flood the air with smoke and warmth. You grab your trolley and steer it towards the train alongside Jayce and Viktor. You're not the first one to reach the door, as you stop behind somebody boarding before you, a tall woman with dark skin, dark hair and a slightly crooked nose. She nods to your group in acknowledgement before hauling her own trolley onto the train.

You board the train next, followed by Viktor who struggles to bring his own trolley on. Jayce pushes the trolley on just as Viktor pulls, sending Viktor and the trolley flying backwards. You hurriedly grab onto the trolley as well to stop Viktor being crushed by his own luggage. He holds one protective hand over a silver trunk, frowning at it.

"You okay?" you ask.

"Yes, yes, fine..." he insists, straightening up. You notice he has put his cane on top of the trolley and he leans on it as he pushes it down the train cars behind you while Jayce follows cautiously behind him.

The train is as large as you remember, and with how few people there will be on board it's easy to find somewhere to sit.

"Let's get one close to the exit. I get motion sickness and I want to get off this thing as soon as I can since I forgot to bring a potion for it," you say, choosing a car only a little down from where you boarded.

Viktor raises an eyebrow at this. "I don't remember you getting sick when you would sneak out of your common room to ride that griffin," he says accusingly, but he slips into the car too. “Careful with that one,” he adds as Jayce lifts the silver trunk up onto the rack above the seats, looking at it wearily.

“Is this one important? It’s lighter than the rest,” Jayce comments.

“They’re all important. That one is just more…” Viktor struggles for the right word, ”difficult.”

You take Fief's cage off of your trolley before putting your own baggage up onto the racks. Jayce takes the trolleys and disappears for a moment, and in his absence you take out your wand.

"Alohamora," you chant softly, and the lock on the cage clicks open. "There. Told you I'd let you out sweetie."

"A troublemaker?" Viktor muses, leaning back against his seat across from you and resting his cane against the table.

"She's lovely," you praise as she nudges open her cage and scurries out onto your lap, standing up on her little padded feet to poke her little beady eyes over the table top. They fix onto Viktor's shiny waistcoat buttons.

Viktor notices this and moves one hand to cover a few buttons while his other hand rests on the gold top of his cane. "She is trained?"

"We're working on it," you say nonchalantly, running two fingers over Fief's head. Her eyes stay on Viktor even as she leans into the scratches, but they immediately latch onto Jayce as he walks back into the car. You wonder if she's taken in by the shiny cuffs, the shiny buttons on his blazer, or his shiny teeth.

Jayce settles down next to Viktor as a woman walks past the door. Everyone looks up to see an utterly gorgeous woman with black skin and dark hair in a braided bun. Her hair is adorned with shining gold accessories, as is the rest of her - long golden earrings, a golden necklace, a golden ring that flashes as she lifts up her hand to wave lightly at your group, seemingly in slow motion so that her beauty can be appreciated as long as possible. Even her eyes seem to have been afflicted with a golden tint despite being a dark olive green, although you don't get to see if her teeth are as blinding as Jayce's. Then she's gone, and you have to be the first to snap back to reality to wrap your arms around Fief, who is struggling desperately against you to dart out of the car and after the woman.

"Don't even think about it!" you snap, restraining her as best you can while you scoot across your seat and kick the door shut. "Who was that?!"

"That was Miss Mel Medarda," says Viktor gravely as he elbows Jayce, bringing him out of some kind of trance. "She is our transfiguration teacher."

"Is her jewellery covered in charms? Is she covered in charms?"

"No, she really is just that beautiful," Jayce sighs, tearing his eyes from the door and instead looking at Fief as she is still trying to wiggle free from your arms. "Trust me, you will never get used to it."

"'Working on it' you say?" Viktor looks between Fief and Jayce's cuffs.

You look down at Fief, frowning. "Stop squirming or you're going back in the cage," you threaten. She stops almost at once, but lets out a displeased squeak. When you loosen your arms she slips out of your lap and curls up in the corner of the seat. "Dramatic, aren't we?" you say dryly.

Fief sulks in the corner as more people pass the car, and soon the train begins to move. You lean back against the seat and face the window, grinning as the train pulls out of the station and soon familiar country-side scenery begins to fly past. You look with nostalgic pleasure as you pass lakes, fields and trees you never thought to remember in the last few years.

"I never really thought I'd be able to go back," you confess, idly reaching out to run your fingers over Fief's fur. She snickers at first, but you feel her move around beneath your hand until you're stroking her stomach. "I've been to Hogsmeade a few times but..."

"You know you'd always have a home at Hogwarts," says Viktor. "You haven't been a student for years but you certainly left your mark. I know Heimerdinger remembers you."

"He probably remembers the dinosaurs."

"How long will you be at Hogwarts for?" Jayce asks. "Are you just here for a term, a whole year, or something more permanent?"

You lean an elbow on the table and rest your chin in your palm. "I'm not sure yet. I want to stay for at least a year but really it's up to Viktor. I'm only going because he asked me to."

Jayce looks over at Viktor, who avoids his eyes. "Is it until Sky is found?"

"Whose Sky?" you ask. Jayce frowns and Victor chooses this moment to become very interested in the state of his shoes. "Was she your assistant before me?"

"Yes," says Viktor slowly. "I mentioned in my letters she recently became unavailable."

Jayce gawks at Viktor. "Don't tell me that's all you wrote! Does she know-"

Before you can ask more questions the door to the train car slides open, revealing two figures standing in the doorway. One is a skinny man with deathly pale skin, worse than Victor, with one regular blue eye and the other blacked out with a fiery orange iris. His nose is crooked and his hair is black with a few faint white strands, and he wears a black and red coat with golden buttons that both emphasises him and makes him seem a little smaller. He stands straight but relaxed with his hands folded behind his back. Yet somehow this apparent machiavellian character isn't who holds your attention.

Standing behind this man is a taller woman, with dark skin and short dark hair partially pulled back. She has a large build that is poorly disguised by a red poncho, but otherwise she is dressed in earthy brown trousers and boots both adorned by copper that glints with the sunlight pouring in through the train window.

Her eyes are what draw your attention, a sharp contrasting grey that suits her serious expression. For a brief moment they fall on you.

"Professor Viktor, Jayce, I hope you're well?" the man began courteously. You swallow down a comment along the lines of 'look at him, it's amazing he was even let on to the train'. The man too seems to realise this mishap and moves on before he can get an answer. "Excuse us for jumping to business so quickly, but..."

Viktor tiredly waves a hand. "I have what you need, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. The journey always tires me..."

"Professors," Jayce says, standing up quite smoothly for somebody on a moving train and gesturing to you. "I don't suppose you've met Viktor's new assistant?"

The figures look to you, taking you in properly. Then the man steps forward and extends a hand to you. "A pleasure to meet you, miss, Viktor mentioned you were coming."

You hesitate before taking his hand and shaking it. It’s uncomfortably cold, and you can feel the bones. "It's nice to meet you, Professor...?"

"Silco," he says, taking his hand away and putting it behind his back. "I teach Potions at Hogwarts. I've been working closely with Viktor for about four years now."

He moves to one side and the woman steps forward. She slips a hand out from under her poncho and shakes yours. It feels coarse, like she's used to getting her hands dirty. Warm too.

"Sevika," she says curtly. Her voice is deep, rough even. "Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts."

You nod before introducing yourself, and look at Sevika carefully as her hand falls back to her side. "Have you... been a teacher for long?"

"Four years this year." Sevika's eyes search you sceptically, before she steps back.

"I take it she'll be Sky's replacement?" Silco seems to give the question great care as he addresses Viktor and Jayce rather than you. Jayce opens his mouth but stops himself from saying anything, instead glancing at Viktor.

"She is my assistant for this year and the foreseeable future," says Viktor slowly, "but she won't be doing Sky's work. She's working in the Creature Reserve for the most part."

"What? I don't suppose-"

"No," Viktor cuts Silco off, "Absolutely not."

Sevika narrows her eyes. "But she'll be working closely with you? Viktor, do you understand how... Difficult that could make things?"

You're quickly growing sick of people talking about you like you're not in the room, even with them speaking so delicately as if there's something they don't want you to hear. You clear your throat and everybody turns to you as if they've forgotten you're there, despite you being the topic of discussion. "I'll mostly be helping Viktor with taking care of creatures, sometimes with lessons, and probably looking after him if he gets ill. Don't argue, you're a mess," you say before Viktor can make a comment. "I can help out with other stuff too, if you need it."

Everybody must realise your displeasure at being left out of the conversation. Jayce and Viktor at least have the grace to look embarrassed about it.

"Excuse us for being so rude, miss," Silco apologises to you. "We have other matters to attend to - we'll see you when we get off the train. Have a nice journey." With that, Silco and Sevika leave the train car, and Sevika shuts the door behind them.

"Other matters to attend to," you repeat sulkily. "We're on a train, what could they have to do right now?"

"They're busy people," says Jayce simply, sitting back down and leaning forward toward you. "I won't lie, they can be..."

"Fucking terrifying?"

"I was going to say rude, but yes, that too," Jayce admits. "Some friendly advice: don't piss them off. Silco's head of Slytherin house for good reason. He can make deadly poisons easily if he wanted to, especially since he's close with Singed-"

"Singed?" You perk up. "He still teaches?"

"I know, right? He looks worse than Viktor, but he's still going strong." Viktor rolls his eyes and slouches against the window as Jayce continues. "Anyway, Silco is scary enough but Sevika could crush you like a bug. She used to be a professional dueller and ran a duelling club for a year. They're two people you don't want to get on the wrong side of."

You give a low whistle, leaning your head back on your seat. "I'll try to keep that in mind. I'd better keep this little one out of their way so she doesn't cause trouble..." you murmur, reaching over to run a hand over Fief once more.

Your hand moves through empty air and lands on the seat. You glance down at Fief, wondering if she's moved positions, but to your horror she isn't there. You check her cage in case she’s wandered back in, then your lap, then down at the floor, up at the luggage racks, at the buttons on Jayce and Viktor's waistcoats - no niffler.

"Do either of you know where Fief went?" you ask hopefully. Jayce and Viktor start looking around, with Jayce looking in what few nooks and crannies a train compartment can hold while Viktor goes for the more practical method of checking anything that gleams.

"She can't have gotten far," Jayce insists with the confidence of a man who is wondering if Fief has climbed out of the window and been taken by the wind, never to be seen again.

"She absolutely can," Viktor corrects unhelpfully, his gaze also wandering over to the window.

You ignore them, knowing Fief is sneaky but not that sneaky, and to your dismay realise the car door is now ajar; you were certain you'd seen Sevika shut it properly.

"Shit," you groan, getting up out of your seat and pushing the door further to step out into the corridor. At first, the distance you might have to cover to find Fief daunts you, but then you hear a yell only a few cars down and are both relieved and mortified when you realise where she's gone. You rush down the corridor to where the yell came from, and are guided by another shout to the car you're looking for. You fling open the door and are greeted by a bizarre sight.

Silco, who only minutes ago had seemed so calm and controlled, is leaning back in his seat with his hair slightly dishevelled and his coat has clearly taken some damage as some of the copper buttons appear to have been ripped off, and he is looking with disgust up at Sevika, who is standing up and has Fief by the scruff of her neck, shaking her to try and get her to drop whatever was in her bill.

"That's two fucking galleons, you little shit!" Sevika hisses at Fief, who squeaks in terror as she is shaken even harder

You force yourself to stop gawking and hurry forward, quickly snatching Fief from Sevika's grasp. You squeeze a spot on the back of her neck that causes Fief to let out some peculiar quacking noises and her bill opens up, dropping some galleons and copper buttons.

"Merlin's sake, Fief!" you snap at her, hugging her close to your chest to keep her from going for round two, but she seems literally shaken up. You crouch down and clumsily gather up Fief's loot with one hand and stand up again to face a bewildered Sevika. "I'm so sorry, she's not usually this badly behaved - well she is, but we're working on it, I took my eyes off her for a second-"

Sevika holds up a hand to stop you from blabbering on. "It's yours then? Why wasn't it in a cage or something if it's not trained?"

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment under her accusing stare, her grey eyes stormy as she looms over you. "She doesn't like her cage that much. I just- I wanted to let her out until we got to Hogsmeade. I'm really sorry for the trouble she's caused."

"You," says Sevika sharply, pointing to Silco's ruined coat, "are going to cover the cost for that. It's the least you can do." You nod, trying not to look down at your feet in shame. "And put that oversized rat back in its cage where it clearly belongs." At this you hum non-committedly, hoping Sevika interprets it as agreement. From the way she narrows her eyes though, you decide it might be smarter to comply.

A series of footsteps can be heard coming down both sides of the corridor. You glance over your shoulder to see Jayce appearing in the doorway, shortly followed by Viktor who had hurriedly grabbed his cane, and your heart sinks a little when you see the dark haired woman who you'd let board ahead of you earlier appear in the doorway too, frowning. This was not the first impression you'd wanted to make.

"Is something the matter?" the woman asks, her dark eyes surveying the mess.

"It's my fault," you say awkwardly, turning to hold up Fief a little for the woman to see. "I, er, wasn't keeping a close eye on her."

By now Silco has fixed his hair and straightened his coat, still managing to make it look civilised despite its current state. "It's already handled, Grayson, don't trouble yourself. We can figure out the details later," he says coldly as he glares at you.

You feel like shrinking down into a hole, but instead you offer up another quick apology before leaving the compartment alongside Jayce and Viktor, face burning as you bury it in Fief's fur.

Fief must sense how much trouble she's in as she doesn't cause a fuss when she's carried back to the train car and put back in her cage without a single treasure, where she curls up so she's facing away from you.

"Feeling guilty? You should," you mutter, but you know she's not entirely to blame.

"So much for not pissing off Silco and Sevika," Jayce sighs, flopping down after Viktor takes his seat by the window.

"I really am sorry," you say again, bowing your head to Viktor. You were his assistant now - hopefully this wouldn't reflect poorly on him.

Viktor shrugs. "I'm sure they'll forget about it after you pay Silco back. I think they're mature enough not to hold grudges."

You sigh and lean back, resting an elbow on top of Fief's cage. To think you'd started off the day so enthusiastic, and you had already made yourself look like an idiot. But, looking down at Fief, you're reminded you have strengths. You can prove that this is a one-off, no problem. There was plenty of time to change Silco and Sevika’s minds.

Especially Sevika. She looks like she could crush you without even using a wand. Hopefully you can win her over quickly.

<>

The train pulls into Hogsmeade station and soon you're helping Viktor down the step onto the platform despite his unconvincing protests. Jayce brings out the trolleys for your luggage and while Viktor scolds Jayce for nearly dropping the silver trunk you place Fief's cage right at the top of your own trolley. You consider letting her ride on your shoulder for the remainder of the journey despite her earlier behaviour since she'd spent so long in it now.

But then Mel Medarda gracefully descends from the train and you get a glimpse of what appears to be golden heels. For a second you're reminded of an especially high-maintenance dragon hoard. You quickly snap out of it when you see Sevika get off the train after her, casting a disdainful glance in your direction. Fief will be fine for another hour.

Jayce leads the way off the platform, and you grin as you walk out of the train station on the familiar outskirts of Hogsmeade, a row of shops closed for the evening while you can tell by the noise within the Three Broomsticks that the evening is just beginning. Despite your previous visits here it still feels wonderfully nostalgic to have come here on the Hogwarts Express - and arriving just as the sun was beginning to set, just like when you were a student.

"I remember you wanted to live in Hogsmeade," says Viktor as you all make your way down a path that will lead to your next means of travel to the castle, away from town. "You wanted to live close to Hogwarts so you could fly over to the reserve whenever you wanted."

"Still do sometimes," you admit, smiling softly. "I was going to come over all the time and build all the creatures' houses out of the trees. Can't believe I kept that up until I was fourteen."

"That's not bad. I was convinced I'd be playing quidditch professionally when I was seventeen," Jayce chuckles. "Although I'm sure a lot of kids thought the same. Charms was the last thing on my mind, let alone teaching it."

"I thought you were all about progress, and that working with the next generation was the best way to do that or something?"

"Well that wasn't at the forefront of my mind ten years ago."

You round a corner and gasp in delight. "Oh, the thestrals! I completely forgot!"

Four carriages have been drawn up to carry the few passengers up to the castle as well as their luggage, very different from the small army of them you remember being arranged for six years worth of students. But you're distracted by more important matters - for the very first time you can see the creatures tethered to the carriages, ready to pull them. Four pale horses with skeletal bodies and wide, leathery bat-like wings stomp their feet lightly but impatiently, ready to be on their way, one to each carriage. As you move up a little closer to them, just enough to still keep some distance, you admire the reptilian features of their faces.

"Not too close!" Viktor calls after you, and you realise in your excitement you've gone up ahead of the group. You turn around and give a dismissive wave to him - even you know better than to get too cosy with a creature you're not used to handling.

Jayce catches up with you first. "You can see them?" he asks.

"I can now. Back when I was younger I was always whining because I couldn't."

He sighs as he loads his luggage up onto the closest carriage. "I'm the only staff member who can't see them. I used to think my classmates were playing a trick on me every year."

You jump as you feel something touch your shoulder and spin to see Viktor. "You see them now?" he enquires, asking another question entirely.

"Yeah… Accident with a Ukrainian Ironbelly," you say quietly. He nods in understanding and pats your shoulder, before letting Jayce haul his precious luggage up onto the carriage and help him up onto another.

You join Viktor in the front carriage but before Jayce can get in, Mel Medarda approaches him.

"I don't think I've had the chance to say hello to you yet, Jayce," she says, her voice smooth like honey.

"Med- Mel, it's good to see you," Jayce stutters, but he sticks the landing. "Come ride with us, we can catch up. Can I help you up?"

Mel graciously accepts Jayce's hand and he helps her onto the carriage. She sits across from you and Viktor, and a moment later Jayce sits next to her. She turns her dark olive eyes on you curiously.

"I don't believe we've met. Mel Medarda," she says, extending a delicate hand to you.

You shake her hand, surprised to find it so firm, and introduce yourself. Then you squint at Mel in consideration as her name sounds vaguely familiar. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Mel smiles a little wider and shakes her head. "I doubt we'd have run into each other before." She shoots a glance at Jayce, who had opened his mouth but found himself closing it again under her gaze.

"You teach transfiguration, right? How long have you been teaching?" She couldn't be that much older than you, but surely you'd remember someone as mesmerising as her at school, no matter how much you kept to yourself.

"I started working here as an assistant about six years ago, but I've been officially teaching for the last four years. Hogwarts was not where I'd expected to end up, but I think it's the best decision I've ever made. I was happy when Jayce joined the staff last year," she adds. You pretend not to notice the nervous tapping of Jayce’s fingers against the side of the carriage. "It's nice having somebody closer to my age around."

"So you were never a student at Hogwarts?" you press, leaning forward in intrigue.

"Oh no, I could never have gone to Hogwarts. Mothers and wanting the best for their children - you know how it is," she sighs dismissively. You grimace and nod, surprised to find common ground with this woman so quickly. "Enough about me - it's nice to have a new face with us, even under the circumstances. The last year was of course rather hectic, but hopefully we'll get a peaceful start."

"Circumstances?" you begin, but at that moment Jayce chokes on a laugh he isn’t able to suppress. "What's so funny?"

Jayce raises his hands up in defence. "I feel like we're past the point of a 'peaceful start'. Especially after what happened on the train."

"Oh, what was all that fuss about?" Mel asks as you once more feel the blood rush to your face and sink down slightly in your seat. "I heard something from Grayson but she wouldn't go into detail. She never likes to gossip."

"My niffler, uh, got in a bit of trouble with Sevika," you offer vaguely.

Viktor offers you another sympathetic pat on the shoulder before embarrassing the hell out of you. "She let her niffler out of its cage, and it followed Sevika and Silco to their car. It went for Silco's buttons and I believe it even went after Sevika's galleons."

Even Mel's laugh sounds gilded as she holds a hand up to her mouth but makes no effort to stifle herself, more as a polite gesture than anything else. "Sevika? Of all people?" She shakes her head and looks at you in a mixture of wonder and bewilderment. "Did you come here with a death wish? I hope you told Viktor first, he'll be needing another assistant."

"Another assistant like Sky?" you say, crossing your arms. It was time you knew about this mystery assistant.

The mention of this Sky has the same effect as somebody putting a cold hand on everyone else's shoulders. Jayce looks down at the floor of the carriage whilst Viktor looks at the passing trees. Mel looks at you oddly before turning her sharp gaze to Viktor.

"You did tell her about Sky, didn't you? Didn't you?" Mel demands, aghast.

"I told her I was in need of an assistant," Viktor says plainly as though it should be obvious he's done no wrong, but you see him fiddling nervously with the gold handle of his cane.

"For goodness sake..." Mel rolls her eyes. "Nobody told you the poor girl is missing?"

Your mouth drops open and you turn slowly to Viktor. "No, I think I might've skimmed that part of the letter," you say icily, "because nobody in their right mind would leave out such an important tidbit of information, would they?" Victor sheepishly puts a hand on the back of his neck as you and Mel stare him down in disbelief.

"I'm sure Viktor just... forgot?" Jayce suggests weakly.

"Rubbish." You huff and cross one leg over the other. "But if he did, I'm sure he can jog his memory enough to fill me in on the details now that I'm here."

The fuss being made in your carriage seems to have caught the attention of the other carriage a little way behind yours, as past Mel and Jayce you notice the woman with the deep voice and Sevika eyeing your group. Viktor notices too and leans forward, speaking quietly enough so everyone else leans in too to listen to him better.

"Sky was my previous assistant, although she handled things like paperwork and detentions more than the work I'm hoping you'll do with the creature reserve. Since I'm getting more... Delicate, I figured it would be best if I started handling the less physically demanding jobs," Viktor rambles, before Mel clears her throat and he returns to the point. "Sky was my assistant for two and a half years, but halfway through the previous school year she- she went missing. There was no trace of where she went, or that she was planning to leave. The idea of a break in at Hogwarts is an alarming one. We've - the staff - we've investigated and even had the ministry of magic come in to help."

Jayce huffs and Mel's nose wrinkles in displeasure at the mention of the ministry of magic. You feel your shoulders sag at the mention of them too. They'd never directly interfered with Hogwarts but in the last few years they had become more active, more invasive of outside organisations and more negligent of their own practices. A weight settles in your stomach at the idea of the ministry finding excuses to get their grubby boots past Hogwarts' castle doors, but you can't blame the staff calling for help in such an odd situation.

"Did somebody break in?" you ask tentatively, not believing it to be possible.

"There was no sign of a break in anywhere. We searched the castle top to bottom, I even led searches into the forbidden forest. There was... Nothing. Nothing of her..."

A heavy, mournful silence hangs in the air. You don't look at Viktor but you want to, surprised at how choked up he sounds. It's not that he's never been sentimental. On the contrary, his passion for bettering lives for magical creatures and finding new ways to ingratiate them better into the magical world instead of wizards continuing to hunt them or only keep them as pets that they barely know how to care for always inspired you to work harder, to love all sorts of magical critters just a little bit more. Seeing him sentimental over somebody you'd never had a chance to meet shouldn't be strange.

Maybe it was the utter loss with which he said it. There had always been some direction with Viktor, some certainty he could grasp to turn a situation on its head or just whittle it down, realistic or not. But now he sounded as though he was at a crossroads without signs, and all the paths had been buried under heavy rocks.

"The students noticed, of course," Viktor continued heavily. "We said she'd had to go home for an emergency, but then the Daily Prophet must have gotten a leak from somebody in the ministry less than a month after Sky was declared missing. Copies came to Hogwarts and students found out, as did their parents and everybody else. Well, I'd hoped not everyone..."

A sliver of understanding shows in your eyes. "I couldn't read the Daily Prophet. We were stationed too far out."

"Pardon?" says Mel.

"I wrote him a letter a bit over two years ago," you say slowly, putting the pieces together as you go. "I told him I'd landed a temporary job as a dragon caretaker on a far out island. The distance wasn't really the problem," you continue, misunderstanding Mel and Jayce's gawking, "it's just that these dragons in particular were so big and dangerous that you legally couldn't get close enough without approved qualifications and clearance to handle or at the very least have a fundamental understanding and past experience with dragons. We got the Daily Prophet maybe once every two or three months, and letters were also hard to get. So I was really surprised when Viktor managed to get one to me."

Under your accusatory glare, Viktor finally crumbles.

"Yes, I had hoped you hadn't seen the papers. Nobody else would agree to take over Sky's position," he admits begrudgingly. "But really, I am glad you took the position. Even if circumstances had been different, I know you're capable, and I was thinking it would be good to have you at Hogwarts again."

"You..." There's a tense pause. "Somebody went missing, and you thought now was the best time to invite me back? Did you not think- I mean, if something dangerous is going on at Hogwarts..."

Viktor shrugs. "Danger always seemed to suit you well. You had a bad habit of walking up to it and sticking your tongue out. But please..." He rests his cane against the side of the carriage and puts a hand on your shoulder. It's not frail, but not firm as you remember it being when he would do the same while scolding or encouraging you. "Please know that I- there are people here that can keep you safe. You're capable, I know that. Nothing will befall you here at Hogwarts. If anything, I feel my students would be safer with you around."

It's nice to hear but you'd have preferred to be told something like this without the context. You glance at Viktor's hand, noting how the veins are easier to see with how pale he's gotten and how it's easier to look at than his face at the moment.

"You're goddamn lucky to have me here," you finally grumble, shrugging off his hand and turning to the trees.

You feel his hand withdraw. "Yes, I think so," he murmurs.

Mel and Jayce act as respectfully as they can during this exchange, checking their shoes and Jayce's watch and looking everywhere but at you and Viktor, pretending they're not paying attention. Now, Mel smiles as the forest seems to suddenly drop away as the thestrals pull the carriage through the thicket, and for a moment you forget about this new development and perk up.

It's as beautiful as you remember it. The crescent moon hangs high in the sky and the soft moonlight makes the dark waters below shimmer and enchant you. Across the water you see the castle, perched upon an enormous hill, its dark silhouette wonderfully familiar. In the past when you would be taken here the windows would all be lit with candle light, torches in the hallways or fireplaces, but now without anybody being there it's hauntingly black, beautifully so. You lean your elbow on the side of the carriage and tilt your head as you take it all in.

"I'm lucky to be here," you say quietly, earning a small chuckle from Viktor.

<>

The rest of the journey seems to pass in a haze. Feeling truly like you're home despite having not even stepped through the front door, you rest your eyes for the remainder, letting them flicker open now and again to pay attention to what somebody else is saying or to check how much closer you've gotten.

At long last the carriages pull to halt. The thestrals don't seem to be acting under anyone's instructions. How familiar they must be with this job. You wonder if these very thestrals once pulled your carriage as a student. Had Viktor been the one to care for them? You don't remember seeing them in the reserve - well of course you wouldn't have. How were they fed consistently if most people couldn't see them? Did they hunt for themselves most of the time? Did they have a place at the reserve, or were they rented out for journeys to and back from the castle? They're usually solitary creatures if you recall so it's surprising that they'd be used-

"You can see them later," says Viktor sternly, shaking your shoulder to snap you out of your quiet analysis. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Not now," he adds quickly when you open your mouth. "Tomorrow. It's been a long day."

Jayce, the first out of the carriage, hands you down to the ground and does the same with Mel which takes a little longer. Viktor taps his cane impatiently before Jayce helps him down too.

"It's nice that he's such a gentleman, don't you think?" you suggest to Mel. Jayce seemed like he'd appreciate being talked up to her just a little.

"It is," she says simply. "He’s a nice presence. A bit like a dog."

Ah. You don't know what to make of that, and instead wait with her for the people in the other carriage to join you. Grayson dismounts first, followed by Sevika who turns to hand Silco down, as well as the man behind him.

You grin in recognition. "I knew it was him!" Your face falls when the man turns a little and you get a better look at his face. "Oh..."

Mel taps your shoulder to get your attention. "Better not to stare. Although I don't think he'd really care if you do."

Getting older was one thing, but seeing so many faces from the past being so much worse for wear has you worried about the state Heimerdinger will be in.

"Must be something in the air," you murmur, glancing back at Viktor as he walks over to join the man. When Viktor gestures to you, you straighten up quickly and walk over.

The man puts a hand to his chin as he inspects you. It's hard to tell if he's smiling beneath his pulled up mask. He's tall, not limping or slouched as you might expect from a man who must be over seventy years old. He's lost the last of his hair, and you guess one of his explosions must have blown up in his face. Literally; half his face is scarred a red-ish colour, and the eye on that side is a decayed yellowed-white, completely blind. But despite this, you hope his mind is as sharp as ever.

"I wondered if I'd ever be seeing you again," says Professor Singed. His voice has become more gravelly. "Good to see you haven't been eaten."

"I always thought I'd be eaten too, but Viktor said it would be from losing an arm."

"You can live with one arm. You can live with only one organic limb or less if you try, without the assistance of magic. Muggles do it all the time. But it's nice to know that so far you've been careful with the ones you already have."

"There's been a few close calls." You tear your eyes from Singed's face, privately considering how well the name suits him now, and focus on his tattered brown coat. You'd only ever been able to imagine Singed lingering in the castle's greenhouses, the dungeons or the potions classroom. Arriving at the school at the same time as him meant he probably couldn't live year round at Hogwarts, which even as an adult is hard to wrap your head around.

Singed nods as though he'd expected such an answer, when the last carriage pulls up with everybody's luggage. Sevika is the first to get there and begins moving baggage onto the ground for people to get to more easily. You raise an eyebrow as Viktor goes up to her and she leans down to hear him as he whispers something in her ear. Then she straightens up and scans the collection of suitcases and bags before reaching over and grabbing the silver case. When she moves it, she groans as you gasp in delight.

"Oh, Fief!" You hurry over to the carriage as Sevika puts the silver case at Viktor's feet. You turn to her eagerly. "Could you get her down for me?"

Sevika frowns but grabs the cage, handling it with less care than she did the suitcase, and shoves it into your arms. You barely notice as you coo at Fief affectionately through the bars as though it had been a week since you'd last seen her rather than an hour and a half.

"You'll get used to it," Viktor assures Sevika. Sevika rolls her eyes and starts hauling more bags off of the carriage.

Fief graciously allows you to scratch beneath her bill despite being stuck in her cage for most of the journey, possibly knowing it was partially her fault, and you put her cage up on top of your two trunks. As you check over Fief to make sure she hasn't been too upset by her uncomfortable arrangements, another woman comes up behind you.

"Viktor's new assistant, yes?"

You turn suddenly at the deep and gravelly voice. "That's me. Grayson?" you guess.

Grayson nods. She stands tall with her back straight and both hands behind it, looking down at you as if inspecting you. "For now, your room is going to be down in the dungeons near the slytherin common room. They like to have teachers stay where their old houses align."

"Okay, that makes sense." You look up at Grayson thoughtfully, wondering what house she might have been in. "What do you mean 'for now'? Do you think I'm going to be moved?"

"Viktor talked to me on the station platform back in Kings' Cross, before you arrived, but I believe he wants to tell you himself. For now, don't unpack properly in case you end up being moved elsewhere."

You glance over at Viktor, who is watching Jayce like a hawk as he charms the silver case to join a group of floating luggage to be taken to their rooms. "He's just full of surprises today," you mutter.

Next to you, Fief begins squeaking quietly as her beady eyes settle on Grayson, who frowns back at her. "Does it... Like me?" she asks.

"I think she likes your pin," you say, noting how the gold pin on Grayson's chest gives a vague glimmer even in the moonlight. "Have you not seen nifflers before?"

"I have, but I don't have much experience with these sorts of creatures. I have an owl, but otherwise I have little interest."

You nod but keep your face turned from Grayson when she says this. Of course it would be silly to judge somebody for not having the same interests as you, but you know you can't keep the distaste out of your expression. Not everybody cared much for magical creatures, and rarely did you find somebody who found them as amazing as you did, but it had never rubbed you the right way. How could anybody not find magical creatures, in all their different forms, qualities and quirks, at all interesting?

Maybe if people took a little more interest, creatures wouldn't be used for half as much dirty work. After finding out where the thestrals are kept, you decide you ought to drop off a few treats.

"I saw the mess it made in Silco and Sevika's car this morning too..." Grayson continued.

"That was my fault, she hasn't had a chance to be properly trained yet," you say quickly, putting a protective hand over Fief's cage. "She won't cause any more hassle."

Fief's eyeing of Grayson's pin doesn't seem to convince her, but she lets it go and walks off towards Mel. You hear them strike up a conversation as you grab Fief's cage in one hand and take out your wand in the other.

"Wingardium Leviosa," you murmur, and your trunks float up into the air where the wand points. You couldn't float Fief of course, just in case you tipped the cage too much. Then she'd really give you the cold shoulder - no tummy scratches for a couple days perhaps, unless you gave her a little present. "Come on, trouble," you whisper to her sweetly.

Everyone begins making their way into the castle, and once more you relish how the nostalgia seems to fill you from top to bottom. Somebody waves their wand and the torches in the long corridor flare up, and your footsteps echo on the stone floor. You walk past the grand door that leads into the great hall, excited at the prospect of a filling dinner later after the long journey. You pass the large trophy case displaying the last few years of Hogwarts quidditch history, something you decide to get a better look at later once you’ve settled down a little.

You turn a corner, then walk through an archway, and keep walking as you look up to continue admiring your surroundings. The dozens of random staircases above you don't register until you've got one foot off the ledge. You let out a strangled noise and something grabs the back of your collar and roughly pulls you back to safety. Fief lets out a startled squeak at the sudden motion.

"Thanks-" you start before being cut off.

"Watch where you're going. Did you not go to school here?"

You scowl back at Sevika as if she hadn't just saved you masses of broken bones. You'd have had to spend the night in the infirmary on your very first night, but that idea doesn’t tick you off nearly as much as her disapproving glare does. "It's been a while, I forgot." Fief lets out another disgruntled squeak and you’re reminded of the chaos she caused Sevika earlier. “Sorry,” you add quietly.

A staircase that leads upwards twists around and connects to the ledge. Mel, Jayce, Grayson and Viktor make their way up, with Jayce masterfully charming all their luggage into a bubble above them.

"See you at dinner everyone," Mel calls back. You offer a small wave and hang back with the rest of the group, observing the other moving stairs and preferring to reassure Fief after her fright rather than interact with your group. Silco and Sevika likely weren't interested in chatting, and Singed always seemed to prefer quiet company after pleasantries had been exchanged.

It's not long before the staircase moves away and is replaced by another, this one leading downwards. Sevika takes the lead, her wand pointing upwards to hold up luggage belonging to her and Silco. You're happy to hang behind the group as you descend, down more and more staircases, the echoes of your footsteps getting louder until you reach the very bottom.

The dungeons are just about as lovely as you remember - dark, dank, and slightly damp. You shiver and speed up , appreciating the warmth that comes from the torches mounted to the walls that Silco sets alight as he passes them, but slow down again when you pass the potions classroom door. You almost stop to peek inside, but decide against it - it's probably even colder in there.

It's a relief when you step into the slytherin common room, with the large fireplace already lit. The warmth stretches as far as it can in such dreary conditions, but the light reveals two sofas and a coffee table in front of the fireplace, a long table off to the side with chairs set neatly around it, a desk in the corner. Green flags depicting silver snakes are hung high up on the walls, barely illuminated by the fire.

"Seven years," you mutter, unsure whether to look upon your surroundings with fondness or disappointment, "and still no bloody furniture."

Maybe now that you were being paid to be here you could buy another armchair or rug. Silco takes over the lead through the common room to the dormitories. Three corridors - two led to the student's boys and girls dorms, the third was the teacher's. A knot of dread forms in your stomach as you walk down this hallway. Were teachers able to get their own rooms or did they have to share like the students did? Obviously you wouldn't be made to room with Silco or Singed, but the idea of spending the next year in the same bedroom as Sevika is daunting.

If you weren't bringing Fief it might not have been so bad. Sevika seemed intimidating but so far all her frustrations towards you had been reasonable - she just needs to get past her first impression of you. All you had to do was pay Silco back for the ruined coat, apologise again to both victims, and train Fief as fast as possible before she ends up raiding Sevika's luggage.

The corridor breaks off into two different directions. Sevika manoeuvres her wand to lower the bags onto the floor, and holds two of them out to Silco.

"We'll meet up in twenty minutes for dinner," says Silco, sliding back his sleeve and checking a bronze watch that gets Fief trembling, before taking his suitcases and disappearing down the right corridor with Singed.

Left alone with Sevika, you walk a little ways behind her as she strides onward, the sound of her heavy boots bouncing off the bare walls. There's no denying she's tall, probably overshadowing other staff members even without the boots, and she certainly has a powerful build. You've glimpsed her biceps, which would come in handy when working with bigger, more stubborn magical creatures. You remember shaking her large hands and feeling the warm roughness of her skin, so she must be used to some level of manual labour which would be ideal…

"This one's yours," Sevika says, bringing you back to reality. You stop next to her in front of a wooden door, looking worn with age but otherwise perfectly fine. You twist the knob and push it open to reveal a small, quaint little room with a neatly made twin bed, a simple rug, a desk and a wardrobe. There's a small fireplace opposite to the bed, not yet lit.

"Oh, good," you sigh, stepping into the room and putting Fief's cage on the desk. "This could be... cosy."

There isn't anything wrong with it on the surface. It's clean - very clean. The rug seems newer than the rest of the furniture.

"Don't get comfortable. Viktor seems to have other plans for where you're going to be staying," says Sevika from the doorway, her grey eyes lingering on Fief disdainfully. "Keep that locked up while you're here."

"Not sure how I feel about everyone being so invested in where I'm sleeping," you mutter as you put your bags down at the foot of the bed. You decide not to do any unpacking until you talk to Viktor - if he didn't want you staying down in the dark and dingy dungeons then all the better.

"Five sickles."

"What?" you turn to Sevika, frowning. "Am I meant to be paying rent?"

"Silco's coat that your pet ruined," Sevika clarified. "It was five sickles. Can you pay now or do you need to wait until your first paycheck?"

Oh, right. You open up a bag and rummage around before producing an old, battered wallet, and opening it up.

"One, two... Three..." you resist groaning and look over your shoulder at Sevika. "It'll have to wait till I get paid, sorry.” Most of your savings were at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. You'd be paid before the term was over and you could stop by Diagon Alley - maybe you should stop by for the next time Fief gets into more trouble.

"Fine." Sevika leaves abruptly, closing the door behind her. Even so you can hear her taking a few more steps down the hallway before another door creaks open and closes.

You practically collapse on the chair next to the desk and reach a finger between the bars to scratch Fief's bill. "You know, I don't think she likes us very much," you whisper to her and chuckle, as if you're both sharing a private joke. You steel yourself to break the news: "We're both paying for that coat by the way. No treats for a week."

<>

Sevika walks past just as you leave your room, but stops in her tracks at the sound of scratching from the other side.

"I'm starving from the journey, aren't you?" you start before she can ask. "They didn't have the trolley with all the sweets."

"That's usually for the students' journey. Is that thing-"

"Oh well, just means more space for the real food." You hurry past Sevika, eager to sidestep her suspicions. Around the corner, Singed and Silco are already waiting.

The group makes their way back through the corridors, through the common room and up the restless stairs. When Singed pushes open the doors to the great hall you feel yourself light up as you take in the long empty tables, the enormous stone fireplace on one side of the room, the ceiling bewitched to look like the night sky…

And at the very end of the hall is the teachers' table, arranged with nine chairs. Mel, Jayce, Viktor and Grayson had arrived earlier and were now talking amongst themselves. You make your way up to the table and slide into the chair next to Viktor, right at the end.

"Didn't know my sleeping arrangements were so high on your list of priorities."

"Don't be upset, you'll like this," Viktor assures you. "I can't arrange it myself, so I'll have to ask Heimerdinger when he arrives tomorrow."

"I did think it was weird he wasn't here, but I assumed he was just going to make his own way here somehow. Is he that busy?"

Viktor chuckles. "No, there is an opera happening tonight that he simply had to attend."

You blink at Viktor expectantly as he looks down at his golden goblet which he hasn't even touched. "So...?" you press.

"Oh, yes. I was going to ask him if you'd be able to take up residence in the old groundskeeper's hut, closer to the creature reserve than the castle is." The silence that follows his statement causes him to look up at you, concerned. "Is that alright?"

You shake your head, rendered temporarily speechless. But as this sinks in you break into a grin, stars in your eyes. "You're my favourite teacher ever."

"I'm not your teacher."

"... Coworker?"

Suddenly the table is filled with platters of delicious looking meats, vegetables and sweet treats. You quickly help yourself, filling up your plate with delicacies. All the excitement of the day has distracted you from your empty stomach, which now growls demandingly.

"Merlin, I've missed this," you say blissfully before dutifully shovelling food into your mouth.

"Me too," sighs Jayce, sitting on the other side of Viktor. "I've been eating sandwiches in my study over the summer for lunch and dinner. The family always invites me to supper but I worry I’d make it uncomfortable, seeing as I’m basically an outsider.

"Jayce is being sponsored by the Kiramman family," Mel explains, seeing you raise an eyebrow. "A rather wealthy family who have been letting Jayce stay with them for a long time. They've even given him his own study, so I’m unsure why he insists that he’s such an outsider to them. Perhaps you've heard of them?"

You finish chewing and wipe your mouth with a napkin. "The Kirammans? Not to doubt your abilities, but what are they doing investing in a charms teacher?"

"Their daughter, Caitlyn Kiramman, attends school here," Jayce answers, poking at his roast chicken with his fork. "Her parents are paying me for private tutoring at home and at Hogwarts. She's a bright girl, super talented, and honestly she doesn't even need tutoring. But I can tell her heart isn't in it. She's smart and she's great at charms, but she's more interested in other subjects."

"Well why don't her parents look into tutoring for those other subjects?"

"They think charms is the most appropriate subject for her. They don't think flying or potions is as impressive as charms or transfiguration."

You grimace at this and quietly go back to stuffing yourself. The clinking of silver cutlery and idle chatter from the table somehow fills the enormous space of the hall, playfully bouncing off the walls in a way that warms you. Viktor gives you a sympathetic glance before taking your mind off of miss Caitlyn Kiramman in the worst way.

"I don't suppose you've apologised to Silco and Sevika yet?"

"Sort of," you murmur between bites. Sensing his expectation, you swallow and clear your throat. "I can't pay Silco back for the coat yet, I want to apologise to him properly when I get paid. I can try apologising to Sevika again after dinner. Or maybe after I move into the hut and Fief isn't around..." You perk up at the idea. "Am I forbidden from keeping pets in the hut? And if I'm not, is there a limit?"

"Before I can even begin to drill into you that you cannot keep dragons or whatever else in your hut just because you wouldn't be in the castle," Victor begins sternly, "I highly encourage you to sincerely apologise to those two, pay whatever compensation they're asking for, and then stay out of their way. Silco is an excellent potions teacher, but he hates to be distracted or inconvenienced. Sevika is probably the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had, and she's even qualified to duel. Of all the teachers here, I'd hate to see you make an enemy of them."

You hunch your shoulders, guilty at having worried Viktor. You glance along the table, accidentally meeting Sevika's grey eyes and looking down again quickly. It feels like being a silly teenager again who's worried your teacher is going to check the homework you haven't done.

"I'll make an effort," you promise Viktor, straightening up with new resolve. "Seriously, I'm going to work hard here. I'm glad you invited me here. Even if it was because your last assistant disappeared under mysterious circumstances and nobody else would take the job."

"How sweet," Viktor responds sarcastically, but pats your hand gently. "I'm sure you'd have found your way back here eventually."

<>

You flop down onto your bed, rubbing your now full stomach. Fief scurries up beside you and tucks herself comfortably into your arms in greeting.

"Sorry I didn't save you anything, lovely," you whisper to her apologetically, "but rules are rules. I'll start getting you something after the week is up."

The niffler snickers and slips from your arms, hopping off the bed to explore the room further. You get up again and grab your battered wallet off the desk, offering a knut out for her to play with. Fief takes it in her little claws, sniffing and inspecting it, before deciding it will do better as a toy rather than a worthy start to a new hoard.

As Fief begins rolling the knut around on the rug, you once again pick up the sound of Sevika's boots coming down the hallway. You'd left dinner before the rest of the slytherin group, eager to digest your dinner and all the excitement of the day.

Recalling Viktor's advice, you take a deep breath and open the door just as Sevika walks past.

"Um- Sorry, Sevika?" you call out nervously. She stops, sighs, and turns to you. How encouraging.

"Yes?" she asks impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest.

You feel your cheeks heat up a little, still embarrassed. It's not that you want to waste her time, but she's probably moments away from tapping her foot and rolling her eyes. You can’t help but rub your wrist to soothe yourself.

"I know I've already said sorry, but..." you trail off awkwardly, then shake your head and carry on despite your voice beginning to waver. "I really am sorry about what happened before. Fief - my niffler - is my responsibility and I should have kept a better eye on her. I really, really wanted to make a good impression with everyone but- but I see I've ended up causing you and Silco trouble. So please, if there's something I could do to make up for that other than just paying for the coat..."

Sevika's glare softens as you go on, just a little bit, and her stiffly crossed arms relax somewhat. She tilts her head, considering your apology. In the flickering torch light of the corridor, it’s hard to tell if her eyes really are grey like you’d first thought, now seeming so dark. "Well... Maybe I have been a little-"

At that moment Fief comes rolling out of your room behind you, deep in play with the bronze knut. She grabs it with her little paws, takes the knut in her bill and shakes her head around. Then, in swift momentum, she twists her head and the knut flies out of her bill and through the air, hitting Sevika squarely on the forehead.

She steps back and puts a hand to her forehead, more surprised rather than harmed. A terrible silence follows as you stare at one another in disbelief, before you both look back down at Fief. Fief, apparently unaware of what she'd done, scuttles over to the knut now lying at one of Sevika's boots, takes it back in her bill, and disappears back into the room as if nothing happened.

Sevika's face darkens as she overcomes her shock, her grey eyes hostile as they fix on you.

"I- She's, erm," you splutter, mortified.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your rat in its cage?" she snaps. "Get that thing under control, or I'll have it thrown into the forbidden forest - and you with it." With that, she turns abruptly and storms off to her room. You wince as she slams it behind her.

Fief is unphased when you come back into the room, closing the door slowly behind you. The pure audacity of her to squeak at you pleasantly as you sit down beside her on bed.

She even has the nerve to act shocked when you lean over her, eyes narrowed, and pass your sentence.

"No treats for a month."

Chapter Text

"Sleep well?" Viktor asks, handing you a large pink peach.

Between the sheer humiliation of two different incidents - three if you count your near death experience by the staircase - the disappointment in failing to win over Sevika, as well as Fief's furious squeaking and scratching from being locked in her cage all night, you hadn't slept particularly well.

"Like a log," you murmur listlessly, taking the peach and staring at it. Maybe it was a magic fruit that would put you back to sleep for a couple of hours.

"Don't eat that, it's for the abraxan," Viktor warns, grabbing his cane which had been leaning against the side of a wooden fence. It was early in the morning, before breakfast had even been served in the great hall and probably before anybody else had gotten out of bed. Maybe it was a good thing you were too tired to think about being hungry.

Viktor's words slowly sink in as you both walk quietly along a worn path down a grassy hill towards the creature reserve. When it finally clicks, you gaze at Viktor with wide eyes.

"An abraxan? You really have an abraxan here?" The wonder in your eyes is replaced by confusion. "This peach isn't its breakfast, is it? Surely you're giving it more than this every day? Abraxans are huge, and they use up so much energy walking and flapping their wings, especially when they're flying. They also digest very quickly-"

"I know how to feed an abraxan," says Viktor tiredly as you arrive at the fence gate. Large woven baskets with lids are situated next to it, all of them labelled with different creature foods. "I thought you'd want to make a better impression with the creatures than you did with the staff."

"I did try to apologise to Sevika again!" you insist, cheeks burning up again.

"Oh, so...?"

"I didn't say it went well."

"Ah." Mercifully, Viktor decides not to press you further. He slips one hand up his left sleeve and takes out his wand, pointing it to the largest basket. "Wingardium Leviosa. There are about ten baskets of abraxan food down in a storage room by the dungeons, we get a delivery every fortnight," Viktor explains as the basket lifts up, wobbling a little in the air. You move to open the fence gate for him. "We only have one abraxan at the moment and he makes each basket last the day."

You brighten up as Viktor leads the way through familiar territory. Hogwarts' creature reserve has always been an unfortunately overlooked staple of the school. Initially it consisted of three set habitats; the first is dubbed the 'grasslands' which is really an expansive field dotted with rocks, flowers and a few trees. It isn't uncommon to find a few fairies, pixies or even larger creatures that are tame enough not to be a danger to students, although they still need supervision. The second habitat is situated down a path that leads into the forbidden forest, a small area where students are forbidden to go near without a teacher present, so of course you were unable to resist sneaking in years ago. One time, Viktor had found you and escorted you back to the castle after a severe scolding, and refused to believe your insistence that you'd spotted a Welsh Green Dragon. The third habitat is an area down by the lake where the black squid had famously taken up permanent residence, and several other amphibian creatures tended to flock here too.

But the reserve, under the two teachers who came before Viktor, had worked hard to create something truly incredible; seven artificially made habitats, ranging from a swamp to snowy mountains and a desert. They contained habitats that are usually empty, but it had slowly become known to all as 'common ground'. The ecosystem didn't fall out of order here and while many creatures who wound up in the reserve would still hunt for food, usually there is little hostile interaction between different species.

"Can the abraxan not hunt?" you ask, casting your gaze out over the field in search of it. Giant winged horses are generally hard to miss.

Viktor gives a long suffering sigh and you suspect the abraxan has been overstaying his welcome. "He can hunt fine, he's just decided he prefers it when somebody gets food for him. I tried to wean him off the food but after a week, the stupid horse actually came up to the castle!"

You snort, excited to meet said stupid horse. "He must like you a lot. Is he a bit small?"

"Probably behind the rocks. He doesn't get along with the pixies, so he stays away from the trees. Which is very unhelpful considering that's where the fruit he should be able to get for himself is."

The idea of an abraxan being afraid of tiny pixies is ridiculous but adorable. Behind a mound of large rocks you gasp in delight when you see him, a caramel-coloured, enormous horse with a star on its nose, settled comfortably in a crook worked into one of the rocks, its huge white wings folded up against either side of his stomach.

"Oh, you're gorgeous," you praise. Even sitting down he's a good few feet taller than you, and his coat is wonderfully shiny and healthy. Does Viktor do his shoes? Will you have to do his hooves? Actually, does this specific breed of winged horse have to go through all that fuss with their hooves? Maybe he'll let you brush his mane…

The abraxan is surprisingly unbothered by your presence, giving you a snort in greeting. He must be used to people. You slowly move closer, offering out your free hand for him to sniff. As far as you can remember you've only ever been told to do this for cats, but throughout the years you'd found that most creatures seemed to appreciate this gesture. Even if they didn't, it was still an efficient stepping stone for them to become familiar with your scent. The abraxan sniffs your hand without any qualms and his attention is quickly drawn by the peach in your other hand. He shows no hesitation when you offer it up to him, biting into it right away. It's gone in less than five seconds.

"Merlin," you mutter as Viktor sets down the basket nearby. "So, does he have a name?"

"It has a thousand names and I can't remember a single one. I left it up to the students but whenever they come down to see him it's always something different." Viktor gestures towards the path again. "But this isn't what I wanted to show you."

Curious, you follow Viktor further down the path through the field. The trees become thicker and darker as you leave the plains habitat behind, with occasional beams of light breaking through the leaves as the sun rises. You don't get to see much of it though as Viktor breaks away from the path and towards a thicket, waving his wand to move thorn-filled bushes.

"I've only told Jayce about this," he says quietly, his steps getting slower and lighter. "Keep this to yourself, just in case. I found her just a little before Sky... About eight months ago. She lets me get close, but I think you'd do well with her."

"Nice and vague, just the way I've always told you I hated it," you mumble, but your interest is piqued. "What is it?"

"Better to show you. Don't make noise."

Viktor creeps forward slowly, keeping close to the thick trees and wild bushes, careful not to drag his cane on the ground. He comes to a stop behind a large flat rock, peering around it. You crouch beside him, and he moves aside to let you get a peek too.

In the clearing, settled in a rather messy nest that looks as though it had been assembled in a rush, is a hippogriff. Dark brown feathers cover its body and great wings, patchy in some areas such as the underbelly. The front legs and face are those of an eagle, and when you squint you can see the back legs are those of a horse. It's wary, keeping its wings raised instead of being folded up to keep itself warm in the early morning.

Unfortunately in the last couple of decades, hippogriff numbers have dwindled greatly to the point that they are now considered an endangered species. Hunting them was illegal but of course that wasn't enough to stop some people. Their beaks and talons could be broken down and reworked into wand decorations, their feathers as potion ingredients, or they could be eaten as exquisite meat.

So to find one had decided to make its home in the forbidden forest was incredible. Ironically this was probably one of the safest places for it.

You can't tear your eyes away from the hippogriff as it begins to prowl slowly out of the nest, keeping its wings raised and head low to the ground, moving towards a small rock mound nearby. It's back legs come into view, and to your horror you can see an awful scar running down its flank all the way to the hoof, and as it advances you notice a slight limp in that leg.

The hippogriff stops just above the rock mound, sniffing at it, before suddenly knocking off one of the rocks with its beak and diving in, withdrawing with a mouse. It tosses the mouse up in the air and it comes back down to land in the open beak again, swallowed whole. Then the hippogriff hurriedly turns around and limps back to the nest, sitting down but keeping its wings up. Viktor touches your shoulder, and you both retreat back down the path to the field.

"I suspect she's had a run in with hunters," Viktor explains, still quiet despite the hippogriff probably being out of earshot. "She was in awful condition when I first found her, she was missing feathers all over - likely they fell out from stress - and the limp was more severe with a bad gash. I spelled her to sleep so I could get close enough to stop it from being infected, and when she woke up she made that nest. She's still too scared to leave it for long to find better materials for it."

"That must have been so traumatic for her. Even so long after coming here, she's still that cautious?"

<>Viktor nods. "I want you to try and help her become more comfortable. She doesn't mind me so much as long as I keep my distance, but you'll have more opportunities to interact with her. Especially if Heimerdinger agrees to let you stay in the hut."

"Oh, I forgot all about that," you lie, and Viktor scoffs. "I don't suppose this one has an actual name since you can't leave it to the kids?"

"I call her Tinker."

You cock your head. "That's specific."

"Jayce was telling me about mixing machinery and magic just before we rounded the corner and found her. Might have had something to do with it."

<>

Sunlight turns a lilypad shade of green as it filters through the glass walls of the greenhouse, creating a warm and stuffy atmosphere as you step inside. Colourful plants of all sizes form an organised line along the side and vines sporting thorns climb up to wrap around the rafters. At first glance it's overgrown, wild and chaotic, but you know painstaking care has been put into organisation. The more dangerous plants are settled behind the larger, less harmful flowers, getting less sunlight to keep them docile but alive. Thorny bushes surround a pot of pretty flowers, keeping a wall around the lovely petals that will leave awful burns on human skin if touched. There are probably better ways to keep students from getting themselves hurt, but Singed believed training them in common sense would hopefully discourage them. You wonder how many more times he will have to be disappointed before changing tactics.

Singed himself is at the other end of greenhouse four, putting down a watering can as you approach. In this light his scarred face gives him the impression of a mad scientist gone wrong. Which isn't too far off.

"You ought to use magic," you say pointedly. "You'd finish taking care of them all much more quickly."

Singed shakes his head. "I don't use magic because I care. What brings you here, anyhow?"

"Viktor wanted something from you, but he wouldn't say what it is...?" you say slowly. You don't want to sound like you came here to waste Singed's time but Viktor's refusal to provide details didn't leave you much choice. "He said he asked you for it last term?"

Recollection flickers in Singed's good eye and his hand twitches, the way it does when he’s anticipating what chaos a plant he’s bred will unleash. "Oh, of course. I'm keeping it in greenhouse five with Sevika's necessities. I'm sure you two will get on well."

You frown, remembering how Viktor had assumed you two would get along. From what you could tell, she was much bigger than you, meaner than you, and was not a fan of magical creatures - or at least, she wasn't a fan of Fief.

Or maybe she did like magical creatures and had some sort of history with them, that might make more sense. But nifflers were a very basic creature to understand and train despite their insatiable love for shiny things, so much so that they were often a 'first pet' for wizards outside of the usual cat, rat or toad. First 'difficult' pet might be a better way to put it. But back on the train she'd seemed quite freaked out by Fief…

Actually, she'd shut the situation down quite quickly by grabbing Fief and then telling you off for not training her properly. Maybe she really did have some knowledge of magical creatures you hadn't had a chance to see.

"Wandering in the mind isn't necessarily a good habit to get into." Singed's hoarse voice jolts you out of your thoughts, and you look over in time to see his smile has stretched upwards enough to catch a glimpse of yellow teeth behind his mask. "It's usually a sign of going senile."

"I am not going senile, I'm just thinking," you protest.

Singed gives a short hum and turns to a particularly large pink spotted flower behind him, a strange yellow tongue lolling out of it and nestled between the petals. "I'll give it to him after dinner tonight, directly. If you see Sevika, tell her the same."

"Okay," you murmur, like you weren't hoping to avoid Sevika like the plague for the rest of the day. While you want to apologise again without any mishaps with Fief, you were still in disbelief over how every interaction with her so far had gone so wrong. “What are you keeping for Sevika?”

“She has trouble sleeping some nights,” he says slowly, running a gloved finger slowly over pink petals and avoiding the tongue.

“Is it for sleeping potions?”

“Yes, potions,” he affirms. He gives the tongue a flick, then withdraws his hand quickly when the flower tries to close around it with a snap.

His vagueness doesn’t evade you, but you decide it wouldn’t do you any favours for Sevika to hear you’ve been poking into her business. Staring at the rows of dangerous plants reminds you of something.

“Can you tell me about Sky? Jayce said something about her working in the greenhouses yesterday.”

Singed gives the petals a tap but the flower doesn’t reopen. He gives up but doesn’t turn to look at you. “Sky… You’ve heard already, then? How much has Viktor told you?”

“He told me she was his assistant for a while, but she went missing a bit before the end of last year. Said the ministry took the opportunity to poke around.”

Finally Singed turns to face you, nodding. “Yes, they did. You wouldn’t believe the amount of written warnings I had to burn over greenhouse six.”

You laugh nervously, as if you don’t agree with the idea that half the things in there should be killed with fire.

“But yes, Sky was quite helpful. She took care of my more dangerous plants, had a good way with them. There’s a desk in greenhouse three now where she used to sit - insisted on doing paperwork even when caring for them.” Behind the mask, you can tell Singed is now frowning. “I should probably get rid of it.”

“Why? I’m sure when she’s found she’ll still want to use it,” you suggest.

Singed just shakes his head and turns back to the flower. “Ask Viktor if he’s bought chocolate.”

<>

"You should bring Thief to dinner tonight. Viktor thinks Heimerdinger would like to meet her."

You glance over your shoulder to Jayce standing in the doorway of your temporary room. "Fief. I haven't trained her overnight. She'll still probably go for anything that's shiny." To prove your point, Fief begins to snicker at the buttons on Jayce's waistcoat.

"Just... Don't sit near Mel?" he suggests weakly. The cage rattles slightly. "And... Keep it in the cage. Heimerdinger is bringing something too."

"Really?" You give Fief's cage a tap to tell her to stop eyeing Jayce like a prize. "D'you know what it is?"

Jayce sits at the end of the bed and shrugs. Your suitcases still haven't been unpacked, ready to be taken down to the hut as soon as Heimerdinger gives the go ahead. "It's Heimerdinger, so it'll likely be something small and rare. Like him, but younger."

You chuckle and turn your chair to face Jayce, crossing one of your legs over the other. "I don't think I should bring Fief. I mean, I can't pay Silco back yet so he might be upset with me all term - I mean, I could probably write to Gringotts and make a withdrawal but they're so picky about keys and identification and honestly I think I can get it faster by waiting til the end of term." You pause. "Unless Hogwarts is connected to the floo network...?"

"It's not," says Jayce apologetically. "Security reasons. The train wouldn't be running if we were connected."

"Right, yeah, of course..."

The increasingly familiar sound of heavy boots coming down the hallway causes you to tense up and tap Fief's cage again to get her to cease her quiet disgruntled squeaks. It doesn't work, and as Sevika passes by the door her grey eyes manage to fix you with another disapproving glare in the short moment she's in view. Then she's gone again, and the sound of her bedroom door opening and closing is the only thing that lets you relax your shoulders. Even Jayce seems to sag a little when he hears the door shut.

“Reason number two for not bringing Fief…” you mutter. Maybe you should have just bought an owl.

"So, how far along is training is she?" Jayce asks after a moment. "What exactly do you need to train a niffler to do?"

You lean back in the chair and poke a finger through the cage bars to quell Fief's demanding squeals by scratching her head. "It depends on what you want the niffler for. If you're keeping a niffler as a pet then you go through the usual stuff; teaching her 'come', not to piss on the floor, how to swim in shallow waters - actually they tend to float because of the buoyancy of their - nevermind. Um... And lastly not to steal anything shiny from people. We're a bit stuck on that last one."

"And if you aren't keeping it as a pet...?"

"Well usually the…" you interrupt yourself with a dramatic groan before continuing, "ministry of magic will train nifflers to focus their obsession with shiny materials to retrieve important items. If they're searching for something that might be shiny but it is difficult or risky to get ahold of, they'll send in nifflers, like if somebody of interest or considered dangerous is carrying a false passport or a charmed object. They have a very good sense of smell but use it more to sniff out danger rather than treats, so they're more useful as they're cautious." You give Fief a little tap on the head. "You'd be fired right away, wouldn't you baby? Yes you would, yes you would..."

Jayce clears his throat before you can get too off track. "I've been to the ministry a few times, although I know Hogwarts is always trying to keep them at arms length. I don't think I've heard of them using nifflers."

"They use all sorts of creatures. They send them into dangerous situations and if they come back alive they're rewarded with cramped cages and expired food they're not even supposed to eat." The bitterness of your words surprises Jayce and yourself. You look at Fief once more before snatching your wand from the desk and pointing it at the cage door. "Alohomora."

The door clicks open and Fief wastes no time scurrying out of it and jumping onto your lap, sniffling and circling for a moment before curling up and settling down.

"I'm assuming you worked at the ministry of magic for a while then?" Jayce presses after a few moments.

As if sensing your displeasure, Fief lets out a funny mix of a squawk and a hiss then falls silent again. You run your hand over her slowly.

"Yes… It was my first job after graduating from Hogwarts. I wanted to quit three months in but I needed the qualifications and experience, so I stayed for two years. You'd think people with years more experience than me would know better than to-" You cut yourself off again and clear your throat nervously. "Um, you said you've worked with the ministry before?"

"Oh, well, after giving up on my dreams of quidditch glory, I decided I wanted to be an auror." Jayce glances at the bedroom door before leaning closer to you. "Actually, I was just starting out when Sevika was still working there."

Your jaw drops. "You're joking. She worked at the ministry?" That might explain why she was so high strung.

"Yeah, she was an auror, and a damn good one apparently. She'd been working there for four years already but quit about six months after I started. You should have seen my face when I saw her last year."

“Wow, I can imagine.”

So, Sevika had worked as an auror for at least four and a half years and had been teaching at Hogwarts for another four years.

"How old is Sevika? Like thirty?"

"Yeah, thirty years old, I think. Not a bad resume for that age."

Not bad at all. It made you wonder what she did for work before becoming an auror, especially since Viktor mentioned she was qualified to duel. "You're twenty-seven, right? So were you an auror for nine years before coming back to Hogwarts?"

Jayce shakes his head. "Five years. But even after all that time it just didn't feel right. I always wanted to do something that mattered - as in, something to really make a difference. It was an interesting job that kept me on my toes but... Well, you know about all the crackdowns the ministry's been making?"

Everybody knew. It wasn't clear exactly when the ministry had decided to crank up their efforts to 'keep the wizarding world safe' but your best estimate was seven years ago, when they'd begun rolling out strict punishments for cases of simple underage magic. You could understand the harsher restrictions on duelling, the stricter laws on enchanting everyday objects that could be used by muggles, even the insistence for young wizards and witches to do a few months of work within some department of the ministry before going out into the working world officially. Then sentences for accidental revelations to muggles significantly increased even when properly covered up, it became harder to access departments within the ministry, permits for broomsticks and invisibility cloaks are now nearly impossible to get unless you're wealthy, large areas that grew specific potion ingredients were bought up and blocked off…

Admittedly you'd left for your temporary job a year and half ago, and had only gotten back to the mainland the day before you were due to leave for Hogwarts. There hadn't yet been time to read the Daily Prophet or get any updates. Surely things had cooled off a little?

"Anyway, the job just became stifling instead of exciting after a while. I don't think I would have stayed sane if I'd still been working there last year with all the permit rollouts."

Or not. "What did you do after working with the ministry then?"

"The Kiramman's took notice of me and offered me to stay with them and receive a salary as long as I tutored their daughter, Caitlyn. I tutored her in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration basics, so she was way ahead of everybody else in her year when she started at Hogwarts. Now I just tutor her in charms twice a week during school terms in a private classroom and when I'm at the Kirammans' it's three times per week. Cassandra is very interested in Caitlyn's education," Jayce finishes solemnly.

"Is it nice there?"

"It makes Hogwarts look like a garden shed."

"Do you two mind keeping it down?"

You and Jayce jump when Sevika reappears in the doorway, frowning down at you both. She's not wearing the poncho now, and you're given a more generous view of her toned arms, and she seems to have just tied up her hair again. "Sorry?" you splutter.

"These walls are thinner than they look. I can hear you both yapping from my room." She frowns when she sees Fief curled up on your lap, apparently unbothered by your jitters. "Is that thing out of its cage again?"

"Well I can't keep her in there all the time, can I?" you huff, putting your hand over Fief protectively.

Sevika rolls her eyes as if your point is moot. "You're moving out of here soon anyway. You can let her loose in the hut."

"I know, but this is currently my room. If she doesn't want to be in the cage in my room, she won't be. If it's such a problem, you don't have to be in here."

Jayce cringes as Sevika's brows furrow. You nearly gulp out another apology but instead look away from Sevika and back down to Fief, tickling her belly. A moment later you hear Sevika's boots thudding back down the hallway. It was a surprise you hadn't heard her coming earlier.

Sevika’s door shuts again and you cuddle Fief closer to your chest. “She might be your biggest fan,” you coo down at her as she wiggles her tail stump. You look up again at Jayce. "Has she worked with creatures before?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"Viktor and Singed keep going on about how they thought I'd get along with her. I was thinking maybe they thought we'd get along because we've both handled creatures or something. All I know about her is that she's scary, she used to duel, and the only person she seems to get on with is Silco," you rattle on, disgruntled.

Jayce frowns in consideration, but you catch the flicker of realisation in his golden-flecked eyes. He glances at the door, probably to see if Sevika is listening. "I'm sure they just thought your personalities would go well together or something."

You raise an eyebrow at Jayce. "Sure. And what's the real reason?"

"... I suppose you are staff," he finally murmurs. "It's probably since they think that because Sevika-"

You hear Sevika's door suddenly being wrenched open and abruptly slammed, making you both jump. Fief quacks oddly at the sudden movement. These walls really are thin. Jayce immediately stands up from the bed.

"Silco and Grayson went down to the train station to meet with Heimerdinger. I think I'll go up and meet them in the entrance hall before dinner." Before you can interfere, Jayce crosses the room and shuts the door firmly behind him, and you hear him hurrying back down the corridor.

<>

"You are going to be on your best behaviour," you command through the bars of Fief's cage as you navigate through the labyrinth of moving staircases. "You will be quiet, you will keep to yourself, if you're very good I'll temporarily excuse your no-treat rule, and you will stay the hell away from Sevika and Silco. And Mel, definitely Mel."

Against your better judgement, you'd decided to follow up on Jayce's suggestion and bring Fief along to meet Heimerdinger - he had an eye for creatures. Granted he was always more interested in rare, impressive creatures, but you could always just use Fief as an opening to talk about your time working overseas.

"I wish somebody had told me we were taking our pets to dinner tonight." Mel's rich voice startles you as she comes down from an adjacent staircase. Her dress is black, and she's wearing golden upper-arm bands. "I hear even Heimerdinger is bringing a phoenix, if you can believe it."

"No, I was just- He is?!" You absolutely could believe it. It was almost common knowledge that Heimerdinger had a slew of mythical creatures, but didn't typically bring them to Hogwarts. Or at least you couldn't remember any instance of him doing so. You tap Fief’s cage when she catches sight of Mel and begins squeaking.

Mel's heels click sharply against the stone floor as she joins you, and you begin walking together through the corridor. "I've seen it before at one of his parties during a summer break two years ago. I don't know why he's bringing it, the poor thing looked as though it needed to be put out of its misery."

"Oh, was it in a bad state?"

"Honestly I thought it was going to keel over and die then and there. Patches of feathers were missing, it kept coughing up sparks the entire night, and it could barely hold its own head up. I'm shocked it's still al-"

"Really? Oh, that's amazing! I hope Heimerdinger lets me watch it if it's so close to its time."

Mel blinks at you, and you can almost see the perfectly oiled cogs in her mind coming to an unexpected falter. "... Perhaps he will. I didn't get the impression you'd be so excited about that sort of thing yesterday."

"Of course it’s terrible how much it must have dealt with in the last few years, but a phoenix cycle can last anywhere from one to three hundred years, so it's incredibly rare to see. I wonder if I could get a photo of it..."

"And... Viktor has decided he wants you to be working in the creature reserve?" Mel says slowly. Her eyebrow is barely raised and her voice is level, but you can sense the incredulity of her words.

"Yeah, but it's not like he's in any state to take care of it. Maybe he could for a while longer, but looking at him..."

Your face falls and you look down at the floor as you make your way towards the great hall.

"Yes... Jayce has similar concerns. They met two years ago but they're already quite close. I suppose you know about his... Condition."

"He's barely thirty-six," you murmur, lifting Fief's cage and reaching in to stroke her fur. "He should have a whole life ahead of him."

For a moment you both fall into silence as your shadows follow you dutifully in the torchlight like resigned soldiers.

"It sounds like a terrible thing," Mel says softly, "to be born cursed."

You turn a corner, pass the trophy case and the suits of armour, before entering the great hall. Once more the grand fireplace is lit, and everybody else is already settled at the head table with Heimerdinger himself in his rightful place in the centre seat. Despite his short stature his seat ensures he can be clearly seen. He's wearing a blue and golden uniform - everybody who works here must be paid much more than you are, apparently - and his blonde hair, if you can call it that, is straight today instead of his natural curly hair. Deep blue eyes set above a fluffy white moustache catch your attention, bright and wise.

Heimerdinger is the only Yordle you've ever met and while you think fondly of him, you were almost glad. Yordles live for hundreds and sometimes thousands of years and so were always in a state of nostalgia. It was easy to imagine they all might share his habit of constantly reminiscing despite teaching the next generation.

But his eyes don't hold your attention for long as you notice the large gilded cage sitting atop the table. Jayce is standing next to Heimerdinger in enthusiastic conversation, but he keeps glancing nervously inside the cage. Grayson, sat on Heimerdinger's left, also appears to be eyeing it warily.

"What is this, a petting zoo?" a harsh voice grumbles behind you.

"Heimerdinger's brought his phoenix," Mel informs Sevika. You don't turn around, opting instead to walk ahead up to the table. Heimerdinger turns when he notices you, beaming beneath his moustache.

"Well, if it isn't one of my brightest!" he exclaims, leaning over the table to shake your hand. "I was surprised when you accepted to come back to Hogwarts - thrilled too, of course! - I know you'll do wonderfully here. Whose this little one?"

You grin and place Fief's cage carefully on the table. She skitters around it before she presses up against the bars, taking in Heimerdinger's shiny uniform. "Fief, my niffler. I was going to bring my kneazle, but instead I've got her volunteering in a research study, and I thought it would be a good chance to train this one." You decide not to let him know how awfully that's been going, instead looking into his own cage. "Oh, wow."

It's obvious as to why Mel thought the bird was one hefty cough away from croaking for good. Clearly this bird is meant to be big, but has shrunken with age and there are precious few feathers left, all of them a pitiful shade of grey instead of the beautiful red and orange associated with majestic phoenixes. It's laid out on the bottom of the cage, its uncomfortably fleshy body moving slightly to show what could be called signs of life. The head must be too heavy for its frail, wrinkly form.

There are stars in your eyes as you remember to breathe. "When d'you think it'll happen? This year?!" You squeal in excitement, drawing a disturbed look from Mel. "Does that mean I could see it?!"

"More than likely it will be the end of next year, but mark my words I'll make sure you're here to witness it," Heimerdiger assures you, pointing up in a gesture of promise. "I planned to invite you to it actually, but when Viktor said he wanted you to come here I thought you'd like to see the progression."

Jayce looks at you oddly, matching Mel's expression. "I thought you liked magical creatures?"

"Of course I do?" Your confirmation sounds like a question, unsure what Jayce is implying.

"Then why are you both getting so excited to see this poor thing die of old age?" Mel interjects, coming up next to you. "Surely euthanasia would be kinder than just leaving it like this."

You and Heimerdinger seem to be rendered speechless before you disguise a surprised laugh with a cough. "Phoenixes don't work like that. When they reach the end of their cycle they are extremely weak, just like this, but instead of dying they disappear to ash, before being reborn as beautiful, stronger and much healthier." You gape suddenly at Mel. "You thought I was getting giddy over the thought of it dying?"

"Well, it's a relief you weren't," Mel sighs, her borderline disgusted expression disappearing. "I deigned to wonder if Viktor had invited a sociopath to work with us."

The bird lets out a strangled squawk that startles everybody before falling silent again. Poor thing.

"Does it have a name?" Jayce asks. You notice him keeping a polite distance from the cage, as if it's old age and suffering might be contagious.

"Eos!" Heimerdinger announces, patting the gold bars. "My pride and joy. Why don't you fill me in on how you and your niffler have been settling it?"

You laugh nervously and glance over to one side of the table, where Sevika has taken her place next to Silco. "Well..."

Heimerdinger follows your gaze and to your surprise waves over to Sevika. "Sevika! Good evening, my girl, come sit next to me, I want to talk with you!"

Sevika wrinkles her nose when he says 'my girl' but pushes her seat back in and settles down instead on his left side after Grayson gets up to swap seats with her. You circle round the table and take the place on Heimerdinger's right, nervous about having to be so close to her but grateful for Heimerdinger inadvertently acting as a barrier. You move Fief's cage far enough not to touch the plates.

One would expect Fief to fixate on the golden cage next to her, or perhaps on Mel who was sitting with Jayce next to you, maybe on the shiny accents of Heimerdinger's uniform. Instead, Fief catches sight of Sevika.

Fief stares at her for a moment, then lets out an awkward quack and curls up in the cage, her back to Sevika. You frown and brush her fur with a finger comfortingly - she hadn't reacted like that last night when she'd spat a knut at Sevika, nor when Sevika had been the one to haul her cage off the carriage. Although she probably hadn't even noticed Sevika when she was playing with the knut, too fixated on her toy, and the long journey might have tired her out too much to care about being moved.

You lean forward to narrow your eyes at Sevika. "You've traumatised my niffler."

Sevika scoffs in disbelief. "You're niffler nearly took my eye out last night."

"It's young, she's only just started training." Viktor's voice cuts in and you both glance up to see he's just arrived at the table. "Good evening, professor."

"Viktor, wonderful to see you again! Is there something I should be aware of?" Heimerdinger asks, glancing between you, Sevika and Fief.

You tense when Sevika leans over to Heimerdinger, worrying about getting in trouble so early on.

"It's nothing serious. I wouldn't concern yourself," she says quietly. Viktor nods and moves behind the table to sit at the very end next to Jayce.

Heimerdinger raises a bushy eyebrow but doesn't press further. "Alright. Now, I wanted to discuss getting the duelling club up and running again - I don't suppose you'd be up for it?"

"What? Why now?"

"Forgive me for saying so, but Hogwarts just hasn't been up to its golden-day standards. We don't even offer classes such as astronomy or divination anymore, and it would be good to up the curriculum a bit! Plus, after that... Unfortunate business with Sky..."

The table grows quiet at the mention of Sky's name, a dark cloud that won't pass. Sevika furrows her brows.

"You want to make sure students can defend themselves," she finishes for him.

So even Heimerdinger was no longer confident in the safety of Hogwarts. On the other side of the table you see Silco frowning and Grayson has her head bowed. You can't see Singed's expression beneath the mask, but his one good eye is staring intently at his empty goblet.

Sevika slumps back in her chair and runs a hand over her face. "Fine," she concedes, letting the hand drop down onto the table. "But not right away.”

"We'll discuss it later. For now," Heimerdinger claps his hands and once more the plates are swiftly filled with delicious food, and the goblets are filled. You take yours to find it filled with only water, but you notice how Sevika's goblet has beer of all things in it. Sevika grabs it and takes a swig, like she's drinking from a jug.

You fill up your own plate and slip a roasted tomato to Fief despite your earlier promise. She sniffs it and starts to nibble. Deciding to switch to a lighter topic of conversation, you turn back to Heimerdinger.

"So, erm, Viktor was telling me yesterday that he thought I'd do well if I stayed in the old groundskeeper's hut, since it's so much closer to the reserve and I'll be working there a lot. Would that be okay?"

Heimerdinger hums in consideration, swirling the red liquid in own goblet. "Under different circumstances that sounds like a good idea. But after Sky's disappearance, I think it would be better to act cautiously and keep you in the castle."

You nearly scowl, not expecting this response. "I understand your concern, but I'm more than capable of defending myself. I'll be going down there every day and sometimes I may have to work late anyway."

"Let her," Sevika chimes in unexpectedly. "Would be good to have someone as a lookout of sorts. And she can toss the niffler as a distraction in case somebody attacks her."

"Yeah, I could - no-"

"Have you trained Fief to be dangerous or something?" Heimerdinger asks.

"No, no, she's harmless, she's just young and I haven't had the chance to train her properly yet. Look." You grab your wand from your pocket and wave it at Fief's cage, unlocking it, and you coax her out slowly with another tomato. "You be a good girl, okay?" you murmur, gathering her up in your arms. "See? She's a dear."

You hold her out for Heimerdinger to stroke, and Fief politely offers her bill to be scratched.

"She's an oversized rat," Sevika mutters, putting her goblet down to start helping herself to food. "You can feed her to the hippogriff."

"Hippogriff?" Heimerdinger's oversized pointy ears twitch. "Do we have a hippogriff?"

You stare past him at Sevika. She doesn't seem the type to go into the reserve, much less wander around the forbidden forest. Had Viktor or Jayce mentioned Tinker to her?

Sevika pauses, her hand hovering over a platter of pork chops. "Figure of speech. I'm sure nifflers generally taste good roasted."

"D'you eat rats regularly then?" you mumble.

A light touch on your shoulder makes you sit up suddenly. Viktor is standing behind your chair, glancing between Fief and Sevika.

"Are you sure you want her out of the cage?" he asks quietly. "I still want you to make up with Sevika, and if something happens..."

"Make up?" Heimerdinger also begins looking between you and Sevika. "How much have I missed in one day?"

Sevika is clearly trying to ignore you all, instead muttering something to Silco. He sighs and reaches into his pocket, before handing her something. You don't get a good look at it until she pulls out a cigarette, and holds up the object - a silver lighter. She flicks it and a small flame appears over it, reflecting on the surface. It's very shiny.

Your arms don't close around Fief quickly enough. In a moment she's wiggled out of your grasp and made a beeline for the lighter, knocking silver platters still full of food off the table and squeaking desperately at Sevika, pawing at her arm.

In an instant both you and Sevika push your chairs back and stand up, Sevika staring with disgust down at Fief and holding the lighter out of her reach, the cigarette having fallen to the floor.

"Fuck sake, just keep it in it's cage! I can't even smoke without this thing bothering me!" she snarls, stepping backwards from Fief.

"You shouldn't be smoking at the table anyways!" Heimerdingers scolds her. "But yes, if your niffler hasn't been trained yet, you really should keep it away from others."

"Okay, yes, I'm sorry," you say hurriedly, moving around Heimerdinger's chair. Fief jumps down off the table and paws now at Sevika's boots hopefully. "I'll put her back- Fief-"

"It's not trying to cause any harm-" Viktor insists, still defending you despite this newest easily-avoidable slip up.

Then Sevika, glaring down at Fief with contempt, swings back her foot and kicks her away.

It's not a hard kick, but enough to send her back a few feet. She quacks in surprise, curling up then and there on the stone floor. Viktor goes deathly pale, worse than usual, and Heimerdinger clasps his hands over his mouth. They both turn to you slowly.

Sevika shakes her head at seeing Fief curled up and looks up to turn her hostile gaze onto you, only to be taken aback by the thunderous expression on your face. Viktor quickly backs away as you storm past Heimerdinger's chair and towards Sevika.

"You do not put your filthy hands, or your filthy boots, anywhere near my creatures!" you snap, your eyes shooting daggers at her. The rest of the table has fallen silent at this exchange, staring at you both, perplexed. You pick up Fief from the floor and cradle her in your arms, before grabbing her cage off the table. "Sorry for the trouble, Viktor," you add politely, ignoring Sevika's dumbfounded expression, "I'll get something to eat a bit later."

With that, you walk back around the table and through the hall, intending to return to your room and reassure Fief.

The stunned silence of the dinner table is broken only by a Singed letting out a sudden bark of laughter. "Oh, good. Knowing her, that could have gone much worse!" Then he returns to his plate like nothing happened.

Viktor's gaze follows you as you disappear through the doors, before it shifts warily to Sevika and Silco. Sevika's nose is flaring and Silco is frowning back at Viktor.

"She's... Spritely," Viktor insists weakly.

Chapter Text

"Absolutely not."

"It's been a week, surely you could at least-"

"She kicked Fief, and she still hasn’t apologised!"

Fief herself is contently nibbling on a small bowl of peanuts, her punishment clearly forgotten, watching from the windowsill of the grounds keeper's hut as you fend off Viktor's most recent attempts to get you to talk with Sevika. After witnessing your blow up at Sevika and finally being told what happened on the train, Heimerdinger decided that moving you from the room across from her and instead into the hut wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Listen," Viktor pleads tiredly, "the children are coming in on the train later, and Sevika is going down with Mel to go and get them. I want you to go with them, learn the ropes of what to do, and if you can't be best friends with her just try to be civil. It won't do any good for the students if the teachers aren't getting along."

You huff as you slip off your brown leather gloves and put them on a counter. You'd just come back from feeding Caramel - the name you'd officially given to the abraxan - and wrangled a bag of plums you'd picked away from the pixies, ready to relax while you can before the welcome feast tonight and maybe come up with some ideas of how to decorate your new space. Viktor's habit of poking into your business without any notice was quickly becoming old.

The hut is sparse but comfortable. There is a bed with a frayed quilt blanket in the corner and a side table next to it that just needs some sprucing up, a stone oven with counters and cupboards to make up a kitchen, and a table with three mismatched chairs around it near a small stone fireplace. One window is set above the sink in the kitchen area to look out of, while the other overlooks the table. A lot of space has been left over - more than enough to house a few more pets.

Viktor himself is sitting on the shaky stool at the table, still leaning on his cane like it's the only support he'll get for this conversation.

"I've apologised for what Fief has done, I haven't brought her up to the castle out of her cage once since the dinner, and I've promised to pay Silco back. If she can't meet me halfway and apologise then I'm not going to forgive her." You wash your hands in the sink and sit down with him on a red painted wooden chair.

"Then don't forgive her. I just need you both to not hate each other. At least not outwardly."

"I've got no idea why you thought we'd get on," you mutter, drumming your fingers on the table and frowning at Viktor's sheepish expression.

"Well, we thought... Since she's a..." Viktor trails off and clears his throat. "She's a very important member of this faculty."

"Jayce was saying something about her last week but didn't end up telling me. Is there something I should know?"

"It's not important," Viktor says hurriedly, waving his hand as if to ward off the question. "I want you to go down to the station with them. Sevika will probably take the first years in the boats back, so you don't have to make the return journey with her."

"Wouldn't it be better not to go with her at all? It would probably be so awkward."

"You will do it, otherwise I'll let Silco know that we don't actually have a shortage of fairies, but somebody built a hideout for them years ago by the lake. I'm sure he'd appreciate the extra potion ingredients."

You gape. "You wouldn't. Do you know how much money I spent on mirrors for that hideout?"

"I do, actually, you borrowed the amount from me. Shall I tell Silco?"

<>

A carriage pulled by another thestral arrives at the main entrance of the castle just as you leave through the doors. Way up above you, the sun is about to start its descent. Sevika and Mel are already waiting, and Mel waves when she sees you.

"Are you coming with us?" she asks as you walk up, glancing between you and Sevika. Choosing to ignore you, Sevika adjusts her red poncho before getting into the carriage.

"Viktor's making me," you confess. Mel isn't dressed how you'd expect for somebody going to pick up kids from a train station, wearing a long white dress with long sleeves and is once more adorned in gilded jewellery, with a gilded beaded chain across her forehead. You don't dare look down to check if she's wearing heels. "But I suppose it's also good for me to learn."

"I expect I'm to act as your supervisor," Mel notes, rolling her eyes playfully. "I wouldn't anticipate an apology from Sevika, at least not a proper one."

You get into the carriage and Mel follows you up so you both sit opposite to Sevika. Sevika turns in her seat and taps the thestral, and immediately it sets off, walking in a large circle before going back down the path. For a few minutes you all sit in silence, pretending to admire the view rather than acknowledge the tension. Despite it being a week since the Fief incident - the last one - you haven't spoken a word to Sevika since. You've passed her in the corridors three or fours times, and of course you see each other at dinner. But the few times you've made eye contact, it's impossible for either of you to resist grimacing.

To ease the awkward atmosphere, Mel is the one to strike up conversation.

“Last week, you said you worked with dragons before coming to Hogwarts? That isn’t something you hear every day,” she remarks. “I know a little about the different species but I’ve never worked with them myself.”

Part of you wonders if it's a bad thing that you're apparently so predictable that within one week everybody seems to know that starting up a discussion on creatures is all it takes to get you to open up, but before you can dwell on it your mouth has already started moving.

"Yeah, like I said before I had to live overseas. Which, to be honest, sounds a lot better than it really was. I was just situated on a little island in the middle of nowhere for a year and a half. Usually we were tasked with training the more dangerous species like Hungarian Horntails."

"Training them to do what, exactly? I know they're used for important events, usually for show, and in my eyes the risk would outweigh whatever benefits there are." Mel's eyebrows furrow, as if recalling something unpleasant. "In some places they are used for war, but even so it's incredibly risky."

Such a specific example should have made you raise an eyebrow, but instead you continue to be carried away. "When I first started working there we were out to domesticate them - well, as much as you can with dragons, you know - but investors began demanding we train them for different tasks. For example, carrying heavy loads while flying, getting used to different environments so they won't be startled by new surroundings, having people fly them..."

"What?" Sevika speaks up suddenly. "Did you have to ride the dragons? You just had somebody around who knew how to do that?"

"Yeah, pretty much. When we first got the orders everybody was freaking out because nobody just casually flies dragons, but luckily... Well... Not luckily, I guess, but... It just so happened..."

Mel and Sevika stare at you oddly as you trip over your words.

"Yes, we just had somebody around," you say eventually. "We had a ninety-five percent success rate."
"What was the five percent failure?" Sevika asks, leaning back against her side of the carriage.

You laugh nervously, your eyes slipping to the thestral pulling the carriage. Your awkward smile slips from your face, replaced by a grim frown. "Had to put the dragon down. To... Avoid any more casualties."

Sevika looks like she wants to ask further questions, but thinks better of it, instead watching the trees go past as the carriage is pulled down the path. Mel's eyes also fall to the thestral, coming to a reluctant understanding of your cryptic words.

"In that case, I don't suppose you've had the chance to ride a dragon?" asks Mel. The corners of your lips twitch upwards and you look away, as if sharing a private joke with yourself.

"Once or twice."

"Good thing you're not an actual teacher then," Sevika sighs. "Last thing we need is students being taught how to handle dragons. They'd burn the place down within a week."

"If Vi got her hands on a dragon, your classroom would be the first to go," Mel chuckles. "Vi is Sevika's favourite student," she adds for you.

Sevika groans, reaching for a pocket concealed under her poncho and taking out a cigarette. "Like hell she is. She's a pain in my ass. That little brat jinxed my desk every day for two weeks over one measly detention."

"We don't know it was her."

"Yes I fucking do. And so do you.”

"I like her already," you murmur as Sevika takes out a lighter, one smaller and more simple than the one Fief had made a lunge for last week. Wouldn’t it be more convenient to use her wand to light it? "Is that normal behaviour for her or does she just like annoying you specifically?"

There's a pause before Sevika answers, holding the cigarette to her lips for a moment before drawing back and blowing smoke. You put a hand over your nose as the smoke goes directly into your face from the passing gust of wind.

"She likes to jab at me, but she's been after Mel before. Turned all her goblets to mice for every meal for a month before we figured out who was doing it. She charmed Heimerdinger's moustache to move into his eyes too, but I think he was more amused than anything else."

"Oh, wow..."

Mel shakes her head, leaning forward to put her elbow on the side of the carriage, resting her cheek in her palm. "It's a wonder she hasn't been expelled, or at least suspended. Heimerdinger seems to like her though, and she's on the gryffindor quidditch team."

"Really? Her grades must be good then, and I'd think other students must like her - at least those in her house if she's a good player."

"Oh, she's a very good player - she's the keeper. Her grades are good in most areas, and she's very popular with other students even outside her house. For the life of me I can't understand why she feels the need to stir up trouble."

You splutter when another cloud of smoke is blown into your face. "Can you not?" you snap. Sevika moves to take the cigarette from her mouth, her hand lingering for a moment - probably concealing a smirk.

"Vi's little sister is going to be starting at Hogwarts this year," Mel continues. "I hope you don't threaten to resign again, Sevika, Silco seemed quite fed up with your complaints last year."

Troublemakers turned up in every school, of course. You were considered one yourself, but you'd never been purposefully antagonistic towards teachers. "Is she like that at home? Is it a rebellious phase or more to do with her parents?"

"Ah, well... Sevika knows more about that situation than I do..." Mel says slowly, glancing at Sevika hesitantly.

Sevika blows out another puff of smoke which doesn't go into your face this time. "Their parents died when Vi was about seven years old. I don't think the younger one even remembers them. They're living with their godfather, he runs a bar in the rougher parts of Diagon Alley."

Well shit, that probably had something to do with it. "That's awful..."

"The bar isn't that bad, the beer's cheap."

"I meant the dead parents part, genius."

"Take a joke, why don't you," Sevika grumbles, finally putting out her cigarette by stubbing it on the side of the carriage. "Vander does right by them, don't worry. They'll probably stay at Hogwarts over the half terms though, take a load off his shoulders.”

“It must be rough not to have parents to go home to,” you murmur, but even as you speak you feel strangely hypocritical. It wasn’t like you’d ever looked forward to seeing your own family again at the end of the school year.

"Are you close with your own parents?" Mel asks. You cringe and lay your hand flat with your fingers spread out, rocking it left and right. "I see. I can't say I'm that attached to my family. Among the staff, I think Jayce is the only one who visits his mother regularly."

You straighten up, suddenly awkward. "Oh, you don't have to tell me that..."

Sevika looks annoyed at Mel. "No need to share everybody's business."

"You're awfully close with Viktor," Mel continues, ignoring you both, "and Singed, to an extent. I did ask about you, and Singed mentioned you always stayed at Hogwarts over the easter and christmas breaks. Don't worry, I didn't push any further," she assures you, seeing the look on your face.

Perhaps the gold and goddess-like appearance had clouded your judgement of Mel. At first glance one would assume she was some higher being who tends to float above all the hubbub of the world. You'd never have expected her to be so... Inquisitive.

"My parents always had... High expectations," you mutter, slouching into your seat. "I haven't seen them since I finished at Hogwarts." Mel nods like this is the sort of answer she expected.

"Expectations so high you escaped to an island in the middle of nowhere to train dragons? I'd like to meet them," Sevika says. "They can give me tips on how to drive you and your rat off somewhere even further."
"Every time you make a comment about Fief, I'm going to make a note to get another 'rat' and set them on you. I'll bet Vi isn't the only student who can't stand you."

Sevika leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, grey eyes glaring into yours. "Most of them are scared of me," she says nonchalantly. "Somebody started a rumour that I eat kids a couple years ago."

You look Sevika up and down disapprovingly, taking in her muscular form still noticeable beneath the poncho, and the strong hands clasped together. "I believe it."

Sevika's eye twitches but instead of responding with hostility she tilts her head, looking at you carefully. "Are the only people you're close with Viktor and Singed?"

The question takes you off guard, but you can only assume it's a dig at you. "None of your business."

She hums in response and leans back in her seat once more. The journey continues in silence as you pretend not to notice Sevika's occasional thoughtful glances at you and Mel focuses on the passing landscape now in the daylight. It looks lovely, the dark trees that dot the environment still allowing a little light to filter through their leaves and sprinkle shadowed patches with specks of gold. The setting sun casts a pink glow through the clouds as the carriage finally treks into Hogsmeade.

The thestral stops where it picked you all up last week, and Sevika is the first one to get out. Mel follows, with Sevika handing her down and conveniently forgetting to offer you a hand too. You huff as you hop down and start walking on one side of Mel while Sevika walks on the other.

“Right,” Mel begins, “I’ll be taking the second to seventh years back up to the castle with the carriages. They should be showing up any minute now. Sevika will be the one taking the first years on the boats. As for you…”

“I’m taking the carriages back with you, aren’t I?” you say quickly. You all round a corner and make your way up the steps onto the platform and stop at a bench against the brick wall. The train hasn’t arrived yet, leaving the tracks bare even from stray leaves.

Mel peers at you in consideration. “It seems a waste to have you come all the way down when you’ll just be making the same journey back.”

“I don’t mind,” you insist. “Seriously. I don’t mind.”

“I think it might be better for you to help take the first years. Sevika usually scares them, so I’m sure they’d appreciate somebody less intimidating to look to as well.”

Sevika’s mouth drops open. “Scaring them a bit is fine, it keeps them from misbehaving. I don’t need an extra person to be responsible for, I have enough to do.”

Dismissing Sevika’s implication that you’re as inexperienced as the eleven-year olds, you also round on Mel. “Wouldn’t you want me to come along with you instead? You’ll have a lot more kids to keep an eye on.”

“I am perfectly capable of handling all my students. I just think it would be a good experience for you.” Mel glances along the tracks as a loud whistle can be heard in the distance. “Besides, Vi’s little sister will be among the first years and I’m certain Vi has already told her stories about Sevika. If you make a good impression with her, they both might behave better for you.”

It’s not a bad point, but your track record of first impressions this year hasn’t been in your favour. “I… Suppose…”

“And it’s not like you have to be in the same boat as Sevika. She can go with a few other students.”

You glance back at Sevika. “Will there be room for them?”

Sevika snarls at you before turning away suddenly, putting a hand over her face. “If not, I’ll make room somewhere else. You can swim,” she hisses over her shoulder.

“Enough,” says Me as the whistles sound out louder this time, and you can feel the tell-tale shaking of the train about to arrive. “Don’t bicker in front of the students. We’ll meet at the great hall for dinner. Sevika will give you help if you need it.”

The great red locomotive pulls into the station suddenly, sparks flying on the tracks as it comes to a sudden halt. Sevika runs a hand over her face and smooths down her poncho. Mel twists the golden ring on her finger, and you readjust your clothes to be more presentable. Smoke once more billows from the chimney.

A minute of tense peace passes before the doors of the train open, and the kids begin spilling out. Most of them have had a chance to say hello on the train so few greetings are exchanged, but still you see some rushing up to others and slapping them on their backs, kids scream and shout in excitement at being reunited. Some older kids have their arms around the much younger ones, muttering to them in reassurance - older siblings preparing their brothers and sisters.

Mel sighs softly next to you. “We’re missing a few.”

“We’re missing a lot,” Sevika corrects gruffly.

You scan the crowds of children and realise they’re absolutely right. In your student days there had been almost double the amount of kids, and you’d heard that Hogwarts classes had grown in number since you’d left. But now there couldn’t be more than maybe three hundred, if that, gathered onto the platform, although that was still a lot.

“Must be ‘cause of Sky,” Sevika murmurs. You resist a grimace. Of course parents would be against sending their kids back to Hogwarts. One of its most appealing features is how safe it is (despite the forest full of dangerous entities right next door), so for one of its own teachers to go missing and have the ministry swarm the place for fear of a break in… It wasn’t a good look. You recall how Viktor mentioned nobody would accept your job position when you first arrived.

Mel takes a breath before raising a hand up and waving elegantly. “Welcome back, everyone!” she calls out. “Would second to seventh years gather around me? You’ll have plenty of time to catch up along the way.”

Most students begin moving towards Mel, leaving the first years to pause in their steps and look around in wonder and hesitation. Through the moving crowd, you see two girls standing next to each other. One is taller with a shock of pink hair cut short, as if she did it herself, wearing a red tie over her robes and with her arm wrapped protectively around a smaller girl with equally roughly cut hair tied in a small plait that barely reaches past her shoulder. She has her hands clasped around something that she holds close to her chest.

“First years come this way,” Sevika calls, one arm escaping her poncho to beckon the children to follow her. The pink haired girl points to Sevika and whispers something to the younger one, who giggles before allowing herself to be pushed gently in her direction. Sevika bristles beside you as the kids slowly make their way to her, clearly put off by her daunting appearance.

You decide focusing on Sevika too much will make you equally as unappealing, so instead you focus on the kids, smiling and waving them over to keep them from being scared off. Something bumps into you from behind and you turn to see a little round-faced boy with brown skin and white coloured hair, although you can see it’s darker closer to the roots. Even with his school robes, he’s awfully skinny.

“Sorry miss,” he says quickly, stepping back. He must have been pushed into you from the bustling of the older kids. “It’s alright,” you assure him gently, guiding him from behind you to join the small group of first years. There must only be a little over twenty of them, a far cry from previous years. The blue haired girl joins up with the group too, still holding her hands to her chest and looking nervously over at the older children.

Mel signals to Sevika before she turns and leads her enormous group off the platform, and pink-girl gives blue-girl an encouraging thumbs up. You and Sevika wait for that group to disappear around the corner before Sevika turns around and does the same, taking the children from the platform but turning in a different direction.

“We’ll be taking the boats up to the castle,” she announces, and a few students gasp in amazement. You chuckle softly, remembering your own reaction to finding out the school was actually a castle. Leaves crunch under your shoes as the group heads down another path, roughly made from numerous other groups before you, sheltered under dark trees before Sevika leads you out onto the other side. Before you is the lake, with six rowing boats already prepared.

One of the kids lets out a sudden groan of frustration. “We have to row? I thought it would be like a pirate ship!”

“Keep your mouth shut or I really will make you row,” Sevika says harshly, and the kid shrinks back shyly. She scans the children for a moment, counting under her breath. “We can fit four to a boat. Don’t make a fuss or the boats will rock and tip you out.” Students scramble to get into the boats, some moving slowly so as not to risk pissing them off. When you’ve made sure the kids are in, Sevika taps your shoulder and nods to a boat at the end. “You’ll ride with me.”

“You sure you won’t sink it?” you mutter quietly, remembering at least not to let the students overhear.

“Like I said, you can swim if need be,” she snaps back at you quietly before trudging up to the boat. You move to follow her before noticing the blue haired girl and white haired boy slowly shuffling towards your boat too, eyeing Sevika the way one might eye a wild animal. All the other boats have been filled up, so you gesture for them to join you. Sevika helps the boy get in after her while you catch the girl when she stumbles on the side, holding up her clasped hands.

“Careful!” you exclaim, putting a hand on her back to steady her. “Use your hands.”

The girl hesitates. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” You cock your head when the girl falls silent. “What do you have in your hands? I won’t get angry.”

The girl stalls for a moment more before slowly opening her hands. “I didn’t want to leave Mouser on the train,” she says quietly. A small field mouse is curled up her palm, surprisingly calm for being presumably shaken around since getting off the train. You put a finger near its snout, letting the mouse sniff you and tickle you with its whiskers.

Sevika sighs and takes her wand out from somewhere under her poncho, leaning over and tapping it on the side of the boat. Immediately all the boats push off gently from the edge of the lake and begin moving at a leisurely pace across the water. The sun has properly set over the horizon now, the pink tinge in the sky fading as the darkness of the evening creeps up. A faint fog has settled over the lake, obscuring the view of the castle in the distance.

“What’s your name?” you ask sweetly, wanting to put a name to the girl’s face. Calling her ‘blue-haired girl’ wasn’t ideal.

“Powder,” she murmurs. You can tell she’s rather scrawny beneath her robes, her hands almost bony as she cradles Mouser. A proper Hogwarts feast ought to do her some good. Powder leans toward you, glancing back at Sevika warily and lowering her voice even more. “Is she really an ogre?”

Self control that couldn’t possibly be yours grabs ahold of you to prevent you from laughing your ass off. “No, that’s professor Sevika.”

Powder stares at you, then over her shoulder to Sevika. “Are you sure? She’s going to be my teacher?”

“Why do you think she’s- why do you think that?” you ask as Sevika’s eyes flicker to you and back to staring out at the lake, obviously listening in.

“My sister told me. I thought she was just messing with me, but…”

But Sevika looks like she could crush a child beneath her boots. “I assure you, she’s not. If anything she should be the one to protect you from ogres - she teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts. You listen to her and you’ll learn how to do it yourself.”

Powder looks unsure, but the boy jumps up from his place on the boat. “You’re going to teach us how to fight monsters?” he bursts out to Sevika excitedly, his hazel eyes lighting up.

“No, I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself,” she says sharply. “Sit down, you’re going to tip us over.”

“Okay, but when I’m older and I accidentally find a huge monster-”

“When?”

“-and the only thing I could do to defend myself was to fight it, then will I be learning how to fight monsters? For defence?”

“No. Sit down,” Sevika commands. The boy pouts and sits back down, huddling closer to you and Powder.

Rather than back Sevika up, you decide to give her a hard time. “Well, you never know. I hear Sevika is going to be running a duelling club this year,” you say casually.

“It won’t be for first years,” she counters immediately. “And duelling isn’t for fighting monsters.”

“My sister Vi could probably show you how to fight monsters. She does it all the time. She told me she jinxed an ogre last year,” Powder suggests to the boy. “Oh. Are you the same ogre?”

You laugh weakly to draw the kids' attention away from Sevika, who is wearing an expression akin to one who wants to throw everybody overboard. “There’s plenty of time to think about monsters later.” So, Powder is Vi’s little sister - she must have been the pink-haired girl from earlier. Strange that they have such different colour palettes. “ What’s your name then?” you ask the boy.

“Ekko,” the boy says, clambering off his seat to squeeze in next to Powder. “Cute mouse.”

Powder giggles and holds Mouser out for him to stroke. You steal another glance at Sevika, who has turned away to continue staring out at the lake. Ogres are large, hideous beings that are said to eat humans, especially infants - ah, that was probably where the child-eating rumour had come from. While Sevika was tall and muscular, nothing could bring you to say she’s hideous. Scary, absolutely, especially when she looked at you. Her eyes were just as intimidating as her figure, if not more.

You peer out over the water to the other boats. The students have relaxed a little, talking to one another and introducing themselves, but still they survey the dark waters and squint into the fog to see the castle. They don’t seem to be having a great time so far.

Peeking at Sevika again to check she’s not looking, you take your wand out and lean over the side, dipping your wand into the water. Powder and Ekko watch you curiously as you murmur something under your breath.

Sevika doesn’t notice you’ve done anything until she hears the gasps and excited shouts of ‘Look at the fish!’ She turns again to see bright white lights moving quickly in the water, hundreds of them, all shaped suspiciously like fish.

“It’s nothing bad,” you insist before she can say anything. “It doesn’t hurt the fish. It’s just the ones near the surface.”

Powder and Ekko are leaning eagerly over the side of the boat, fears of tipping over momentarily forgotten as they gape and point at the fish, Powder at least remembering to keep Mouser close to her chest again. Across the water you chuckle as the other children try reaching out to touch them, a few lucky ones yelling about how they touched a scale and one especially unlucky kid screaming that he’d been bitten.

Sevika says nothing, preferring to fix you with a look of distaste before going back to watching the fish blankly and checking that all the enthusiasm from the students doesn’t rock their boats too much. You sigh softly and swish your hand lazily in the cold water, leaving faint ripples behind you.

Apart from the occasional shout from you or Sevika at the students for them to put any fish they managed to catch back in the water, the rest of the journey progresses smoothly and quietly, the shore of the lake left far behind and the edge of the makeshift docks fast approaching.

Your boat gets there first, and Sevika gets her wand out to guide it better. She gets out and helps the kids get out of the boat too, once again leaving you to sort yourself out. You don’t complain, although when Powder and Ekko’s backs are turned you allow yourself to roll your eyes, and haul yourself up.

When the rest of the boats dock alongside you, you and Sevika help to get them all out. The kid who was bitten earlier also apparently fell into the water and clambered back into the boat without anybody noticing. You give him hurried apologies while waving your wand to dry him off.

When everybody is safely on land and you’ve checked everyone is dry, Sevika orders everyone into a single file line. You walk alongside her up to the castle as the students trail behind you, huddling together and whispering.

By now the sky is almost black above you, dotted with faint white stars and the moon hangs high. The last full moon had been a couple days before you’d arrived at Kings Cross Station, and now it’s slipping from the first quarter to a waxing crescent. You admire it for a moment before glancing at Sevika, catching her staring at it too, seeing how it reflects in the stormy eyes. It doesn’t last long before she goes back to focusing on the path ahead.

The group is guided through a thicket of trees, then onto the main road. Then Sevika turns a corner and you find you’re back at the entrance where you started. How long has it been, three or four hours?

Sevika herds the cluster of kids into the entrance hall and up the first staircase, before coming to a stop outside the enormous closed doors of the great hall. Inside you can already hear chattering voices and clinking of glasses despite nothing being served yet.

“You will all be sorted into your respective houses shortly,” Sevika starts. “They are gryffindor, ravenclaw, hufflepuff, and slytherin. All of you are to work to be an asset to your houses - following the rules and good behaviour will earn you house points and rewards, breaking the rules will result in punishment and losing house points. Stay here and don’t cause trouble - somebody will collect you when we’re ready.” She pushes open one door and gestures for you to go through first.

You give a quick wave back to the first years before going through the doors. You grin at the sight before you. All four house tables, stretching from the front of the hall to the foot of the teachers table, are laden with plates, goblets and giddy students. The house flags are hanging from the rafters, which themselves are hidden by the bewitched ceiling. Once again you can see the moon.

You hear Sevika shut the door and you both walk down towards the head table. There’s a shout from the gryffindor table you can’t quite hear, but judging from Sevika’s fed up sigh you can guess who it’s coming from. Even so, you look over to see where Vi is.

Vi puts her hand down quickly when she sees you glancing in her direction, and you can imagine what gesture she was giving Sevika. That’s certainly one way to greet your teachers. The kids around her laugh, including her. Two boys she’s sitting with seem especially close with her - one has wild brown hair, bushy eyebrows and tan skin, and is laughing harder than anybody else. The boy is taller, even while sitting down, with short curly brown hair and glasses that look more like goggles pushed up onto his head.

You pass the tables and head up to the staff table, where everyone else is settled apart from Grayson and Singed. Grayson is standing in front of the table, holding a scroll and reading through it carefully. You head to the left side and sit down at the very end next to Viktor, while Sevika goes right to sit between Silco and Grayson’s empty seat. Mel, who must have returned only ten or so minutes before you, is sipping from her goblet and looks around Jayce to see you.

“So, how did it go?” she asks.

“It went fine. I met Powder.”

“Powder?”

“Vi’s sister, I think. I’m pretty sure I’ve made a good impression with her.” You glance down the table, even though Sevika probably couldn’t hear you. “She thought Sevika was an ogre.”

A small door at the back of the hall behind the teacher’s table opens, and Singed staggers out carrying a dusty, wrinkly old hat in one hand and a small stool in the other. He moves around the teachers and sets up the stool, leaving the hat on top of it. Grayson notes that everything is in place before rolling the scroll back up and marching down the hall to fetch the first years.

Viktor nudges you and you sigh. “No, we haven’t magically become friends. Let it go.”

“Shame,” he murmurs, leaning back. His cane rests against his chair, and one hand fiddles with the gold top. “It may make things more uncomfortable later.”

“Whatever you’re trying to say, tell me after the ceremony,” you say gently, patting him on the shoulder.

Grayson strides back through the hall, the first years trailing like dependent ducklings behind her. Powder and Ekko have hung to the back of the group, gaping up at the ceiling and nudging each other. Vi calls out again from her table and Powder looks at her startled, before waving shyly with one hand, presumably still holding Mouser in the other.

The group halts before the stool, the first years looking at the limp pointed hat strangely. Grayson picks the hat up in one hand, clears her throat and unrolls the scroll.

“When I call your name, you will come up to the front to be sorted into your Hogwarts house.” Sudden whoops from the house tables are silenced by Grayson’s stern glare.

The first child is bewildered when they are told to sit on the stool and Grayson puts the hat on their head, but when the hat screams out “RAVENCLAW!”, the ravenclaw table bursts into applause, welcoming their newest member with open arms. One by one you watch eagerly as each child is called up.

When Ekko is called up he practically jumps onto the stool, wriggling in his seat as Grayson puts the hat on him. The silence goes on longer than the others - the hat is thinking harder about him. Finally, it settles on “GRYFFINDOR!”

The gryffindor table erupts as Ekko bounces off the stool. Vi, probably seeing him with Powder, calls him over to sit with her group.

Finally, it’s Powder’s turn. She approaches the stool nervously and sits down, clutching Mouser in her lap and glancing hopefully over at Vi, who gives her an encouraging thumbs up.

The hat barely touches Powder’s head when it screams out with conviction, “SLYTHERIN!”

Powder’s face falls and she freezes on the stool, staring back at Vi in horror. Vi blinks, clearly taken aback. Ekko and the larger boy look disappointed, while the boy with wild hair shoots her an almost smug expression.

Grayson taps Powder on the shoulder to remind her to move. She slowly gets up and goes to sit at the slytherin table. Luckily, the gryffindor and slytherin tables are right next to each other, so she goes down the aisle to sit near Vi’s group. Vi and the larger boy reach over to give her reassuring pats on the back.

The hat screams out a few more times before all the students have been sorted. Grayson rolls up the scroll and tucks it under her arm, before picking up the hat and stool and disappearing through the back door. Heimerdinger pushes back his chair and walks around the table to stand in front of the students. A few first years let out an ‘aww’ when they see him, which he tastefully ignores.

“Welcome back, and welcome for the very first time, to Hogwarts!” he declares proudly. “It’s wonderful to see you all back again for another year. Well, most of you…”

The students shuffle in their seats, no doubt aware of how much more sparse the hall is. Heimerdinger hesitates before sighing solemnly.

“I am aware that the circumstances surrounding Hogwarts last year are far from ideal. Rest assured, the search for Miss Young is in full swing, and that despite everything, I assure you that you are safe at Hogwarts.“ Rather than shushing the students he waits for the small rise of hubbub to quieten down. “I understand you’re all probably starving from your long journey, so without further ado!"

Heimerdinger waves a hand and whoops sound around the hall as the platters along the tables fill with food and glass jugs are suddenly full of water. Everyone grabs for the food at once. You notice Powder staring in awe at all the food before digging in like a wild animal, her anxieties forgotten, at least for now.

You start loading food onto your own plate and fill your goblet before turning back to Viktor. “Alright, talk to me.”

Viktor tops up his goblet and takes a sip, before looking at you. “I had hoped you and Sevika would get along a little better, since I need to ask you to supervise a few of her lessons. I haven’t been able to renew a few licences and Sevika doesn’t have many for magical creatures, but she needs them for classes.”

“You could have just said that from the beginning!” You roll your eyes and rest a hand on his shoulder. “Just tell me this stuff, Viktor. Even if I don’t get along with her, I’m still happy to do my job. That's literally why I’m here.”

“Oh, good,” says Viktor lightly. He takes another sip from his goblet, waiting for you to fork some food in your mouth and start chewing. “I need you to supervise the handling of a dementor in her class tomorrow.” He slaps you on the back as you promptly start choking.

Chapter Text

Thick tree trunks and wild bushes hide your approach, the leaves on the ground are too soft to crunch as they muffle your careful footsteps. You crouch behind the rock on the edge of the clearing and peer out, zeroing in on Tinker as she prowls around her clumsily made nest. Next to you is a small basket of dead ferrets and fresh fish, making your nose wrinkle at the smell.

Right about now everybody will be going down to the great hall for breakfast, but you’re running behind. Caramel had been in a tizzy when you had arrived at the creature reserve, whinnying in distress as he was swarmed by pixies. Negotiations were difficult, resulting in bribery as you gave up a tin of raspberries you had picked a few days ago. You didn’t get any thanks from Caramel, who then butted your arm until you dragged his own basket of food down.

You hold your breath as your stomach growls quietly, hoping Tinker doesn’t notice. Her patterns are strange for a hippogriff, even one who has been through what she has. You watch from afar as she circles the nest again, never moving very far away unless she needs something to eat or she spots an especially tempting stick to add to it. But in the last week that you’d been coming down to check on her, she barely ever settled into it. How did she sleep? Surely she wasn’t sleeping enough?

She’s so skinny, her patches of feathers not quite covering her stomach or the outline of her rib cage. Your hand tightens on your wand. Have you brought too much? If she eats too much, her stomach might rupture, she might throw up…

You glance up at the sky, the sun still rising - you don’t have the time you’d like.

Every morning since Viktor had first taken you to see Tinker, you’d been preparing to meet her properly, just walking by the first couple of days, leaving a small white cloth that smells like you. You can see it still on the tree branch you left it on, untouched, but it stands out too much for her not to have noticed it.

Tinker ought to have more time, but after seeing how thin she is you know you’ll have to hurry things along. You wave your wand, floating the basket into the air, straighten up from behind the rock and step out slowly.

The reaction is immediate. Tinker turns when she sees you and crouches, her feathers rising and her great eagle claws scratching into the ground, leaving lines carved from the dirt. She edges closer to the nest even as she’s facing you, her eyes sharp.

You freeze right away, looking her in the eyes but being careful not to blink. Hippogriffs take blinking as a threat - or a weakness. The air is tense as you both stare each other down, the birdsong in the trees ceasing as if something greater can tell neither of you are to be distracted. Tinker moves her scarred leg back, trying to obscure it from view lest you class it as an opportunity.

From here you’re given a slightly better view of the nest. You glance at it sparingly, not wanting to break contact with Tinker, spotting little sticks and her own feathers that had fallen off had been added to it. You squint, noting a brown piece of fabric stuck between a gap in the nest, but quickly look back to Tinker when she growls again.

The stiff atmosphere is interrupted when both yours and Tinker’s stomach let out low protesting groans. You both shuffle awkwardly on the spot, embarrassed.

You lower your wand arm at a snail's pace, desperate not to startle Tinker, and lower the basket onto the ground. Then, you back away, holding up your hands and wand as a sign of peace that she probably doesn’t understand. You linger for a moment more before creeping back behind the rock, retreating back into the thicket of trees. Covered by shadows, you linger behind a low tree branch, peeking over it to see what she’ll do.

Tinker stares suspiciously at the basket, cocking her head to and fro, then looking all around her as if expecting you to pop out of a hole in the ground. Then she takes one hesitant step forward, keeping herself low to the ground, growling. She takes a second step forward.

The anticipation eats you up as she gets closer to the basket, sniffing it cautiously, and begins to circle it. It must be awful to be so hungry yet so scared to take what’s right in front of you. Her beak brushes against the basket, she raises one claw to tap it...

In your excitement, you lean further against the tree branch, and let out a yelp when it cracks and falls, going down with it. The noise startles Tinker, who squawks and retreats back to her nest, growling and hissing in the direction of the basket.

“Gorgons,” you swear under your breath, untangling yourself from the branch and brushing yourself off. It had all been going so well - at this rate, something would come along and eat the food before Tinker did.

But Tinker is too wound up after encountering a stranger - interfering more won’t do any good. You sigh before turning around and heading back up the path, still taking care to be quiet as you make your way back to the creature reserve field. Maybe if you’d left the handkerchief somewhere closer, or left something else to get her more used to the scent…

Caramel is where you left him, his muzzle buried in his food basket to wolf down what he can for fear of the pixies coming to take it - another problem to tackle, considering he’s meant to make one last the day. You walk past and leave through the fence gate, before beginning the trek up to the castle; you need to stop by the greenhouses to pick up some precious cargo.

Viktor and Singed are already waiting for you in greenhouse four, talking in low voices at the back. It’s darker than it was last time, the sun not high enough yet for light to seep through the glass and be relished by the plants. Something must have gone wrong with the giant flower that had a tongue, because now the large pink petals have been tied shut with a charmed string, and the stem keeps wriggling in protest.

The table that takes up the middle of the greenhouse has been mostly cleared, spare a few tools and Viktor’s silver suitcase lying on its side.

“I should have known it was something illegal with the way you were looking at it on the train,” you scowl, coming up to join them. “For goodness sake, you had the ministry swarming the castle last year because of Sky’s disappearance, didn’t you? Did you want to invite them back to have another look? You can just write them a letter!”

“It won’t be illegal if you’re the one handling it. You have a license for dementors, don’t you?” he asks casually.

“Of course I do. How come you don’t have yours anymore? Did it get revoked or do you just need to renew it?”

Viktor shrugs. “Ministry crackdowns. I’m no longer considered fit or qualified enough to handle one alone.”

“Qualified enough to catch it and stuff it in a case. Has the ministry added new criteria?” Well, that can’t be right - if they had, they likely would have sent a message to you about it, even if you were overseas. “Where did you even find one? The ministry are the only ones who are meant to have them, and I know they do headcounts.”

Viktor holds a hand up at the onslaught while Singed chuckles and steps away to tend to his unfortunately bound flower.

“There have been slight changes in the criteria,” Viktor starts. “But it doesn’t affect you, I’m certain. You’d have been informed if so.” He pauses, drumming his fingers on his cane. “The ministry feels that because I’m cursed, I cannot be trusted to handle or be in possession of a dementor. Or a myriad of other creatures, apparently.”

You stare at Viktor blankly. “... You’re kidding.” Part of you wants to shout at the unfairness of it, how Viktor was perfectly fine thank you very much and of course he could handle dementors and all other creatures, and this was blatant discrimination.

A more reasonable part of you is wondering if Viktor ought to sit down because he looks especially pale today, his eyebags are terrible, and he’s leaning on his cane again while his other hand is gripping the table.

“But there’s nothing wrong with your mind!” you say finally. “I mean you look awful, but you’re smarter than anyone those gargoyles have ever hired!”

“Thank you, I think,” Viktor says graciously. “But their decision is final. Luckily, you still have the all clear in their eyes.”

“They’ll regret letting her have so many licences one day,” Singed’s raspy voice calls over his shoulder while he struggles holding his watering can, full of water and very heavy. “She’ll set an army of flobberworms and manticores on them when they overstep.”

“Use your wand,” you sigh as he heaves the water can up higher in his arms, but he shakes his head and turns away. “Have it your way. Why doesn’t Sevika have a licence if she’s been using a dementor for her lessons for the past four years? You’re a teacher too, you couldn’t have supervised them all. Jayce tells me she worked as an auror for years, so wouldn’t she have had to handle dementors at some point?”

Singed turns for a moment to exchange a look with Viktor.

“Sevika has had her licence removed too,” says Viktor slowly.

“Really? That’s weird,” you mutter. Sevika seems like the perfect person to handle a creature whose only purpose is to suck the life out of everything.

“Don't press her about it too much,” Viktor warns, before gesturing to the suitcase. “You know where her classroom is, yes?”

“Don’t change the subject. The students are going to go home and tell the parents you’ve got your hands on a dementor you know. If nobody here is qualified anymore, how did you get a hold of one?”

“I have a lesson to prepare for,” Viktor insists. He puts his cane on the table and uses it to push the case further down for you to take. “Go, get to know the students. And don’t argue with Sevika, you are there to help.”

You jump slightly when Singed taps you on the shoulder, the watering can gone, and he hands you a thin packaged rectangle. “You’ll need this.”

<>

The paintings on the walls watch with interest as you approach the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, the silver case held up in front of you by your wand; you don’t even want to touch the damn thing. Breakfast will end in just a few minutes and then students will begin heading to classes, so at least you don’t have to be alone with Sevika for long.

You knock on the wood panelled door before turning the golden knob and stepping inside.

It’s simply set up, with nine desks - one for two students - and a tenth at the front that’s a bit bigger next to a chalkboard. The chalk is already enchanted to write down introductions for the school year. On the right hand side is a staircase that leads up to a standing balcony, giving whoever is up there a good view of the room, and another door sits at the stop which you know leads to an office.

Sevika is standing behind the desk at the front of the classroom, leafing through a particularly worn book and noting something down on a piece of parchment. Her poncho is gone again, and she’s dressed once more in earthy brown trousers and a top with short sleeves.

She looks up as you walk up to her. It’s unclear whether she looks more wary to see you or the case.

“Where’s Viktor? I need him to supervise.”

“He lost his licence for dementors, didn’t he tell you?” You wave your wand and the case settles onto her desk on its side.

Sevika eyes the case. “He told me he found a way around it.”

You put your wand away. “I am the way around it. I have a licence.”

“Of course you are,” she mutters, standing up straight and shutting her book. “Fine then. I need the dementor three to four times a week for the next month for the fourth to seventh years, I’ll write down the times for you later. All you have to do is stand in the corner or something, maybe give the kids pointers if they need it. I know how to handle dementors, so I don’t really need your supervision.”

“Oh, well I’m so glad you know what you’re doing. So why aren’t you licensed?” You ask sweetly. You decide not to bring up how Viktor already told you she’d lost it - he certainly wouldn’t thank you for it.

“Do not bring that up in front of the students,” Sevika says sharply. “I’ve worked with them before, and I’ve been teaching about them for four years. I know what I’m doing.”

You nod. You don’t doubt that Sevika is experienced enough to handle a dementor. She worked as an auror for… seven years did Jayce say? Not to mention she could clearly have been left alone with them for classes. Begrudgingly, you have to admit that Sevika just looks like somebody who could handle anything. Except an overeager niffler.

How had Sevika lost her licence anyhow? Maybe something had gone wrong in her lessons last year? Considering everything, you wouldn’t put it past Viktor to have ‘forgotten’ to mention it.

You squint at Sevika, the wheels turning in your mind. Could Sevika be cursed in some way too? Was that why she’d lost her licence?

Ever since you’d known Viktor, you’d known he was going to die young. His mind was fantastic, he was ambitious in a way you’d always respected. Somehow it had made his condition all the more unfair to you. Everyone could tell something was amiss with Viktor, how no matter what potions he took or spells were cast, he would still limp when he had to walk too quickly, he would lean on his cane that ought to be a crutch, no matter what he ate he was always pale, thin and bony even if his waistcoat disguised it well.

It must have been your fourth year when he’d sat down and told you. Viktor’s mother had been cursed whilst unknowingly being pregnant with him. Nobody had tried to remove it, not even her, because they thought it had been ineffective. It had not - instead, it had been passed straight onto Viktor. He had been born cursed, and nothing in the world had been able to cure it.

His body was deteriorating faster than others, it was far weaker than it should be. Miraculously he’d made it to thirty-six - you wondered if he’d ever see his forties.

Sevika on the other hand seemed perfectly fine, apart from being the worst. She could suffer from some other curse you couldn’t see the effects of which would make the ministry decide she no longer fits the qualifications to handle dementors. That makes sense actually - it explains the vague beginning of explanations people kept giving you about her. You wouldn’t put it past her to threaten people into not saying anything…

“What is the matter with you? Do you do this all the time?”

Sevika's exasperated voice jolts you from your thoughts. You hadn't been staring at her for too long, had you? “Sorry. Thinking.”

“Don't think too hard, it looks like it hurts. Stand over there and be quiet.”

Or maybe the ministry just saw how much of a prick she is and thought she was worse than any dementor. You scoff but turn around and go stand to the side near a window.

Sevika pulls her wand from her pocket and points at the chalkboard. The chalk immediately stops moving and drops down. Then she sighs, mutters something under her breath, before pointing the wand at the door.

The door opens, and a gaggle of students are standing outside. Vi is right at the front, her wand also raised at the door. She blinks and puts it back up the sleeve of her school robe while the brunette bushy-haired boy next to her chuckles. The larger boy with the goggles doesn’t seem to be in this class.

“Come in and sit down,” Sevika orders, putting her wand away too and walking around to the front of her desk.

The students file in, looking briefly at you on the side. Vi and the brunette boy pick a desk at the very back. You notice the boy pointing at another girl and rolling his eyes - a girl with straight dark blue hair who chooses to sit at the very front, sitting straight and to attention.

Sevika waits for the class to settle, which doesn’t take long. Most of the students look nervous under her harsh glare, as if she’s pissed they have the nerve to even be here.

“Welcome back to Hogwarts,” she begins, in a way that makes you think she was hoping they had all conveniently transferred schools over the break. “You’re in your fourth year now, and because of that you need to pay attention. All your classes are going to become harder and more dangerous if you do not listen to your teachers, as we’ll be trusting you with riskier material. Any messing around from here on out is going to be taken much more seriously and dealt with more harshly.”

Those last words are obviously directed, as students glance over their shoulders to Vi’s table.

Sevika’s gaze lingers on them for a moment too. “Alright, attendance.”

Listening to Sevika rattle off the names, you learn the boy sitting with Vi is named Mylo and the girl at the front is Caitlyn Kiramann. You look more closely at her, intrigued, and she fits the bill nicely. Her textbook is brand new, as are her shoes. Even her wand is decorated in a swirled vine of silver, but when you squint you notice little scratches at the bottom of them.

When attendance has been taken, Sevika puts one hand on the silver case. “As I said before, your lessons are about to hold a lot more weight. Our first topic is dementors, a subject I’m sure you know not to take lightly.”

Caitlyn leans forward on her desk. Vi and Mylo stop slouching.

“But to make sure you all know what you’re dealing with…” Sevika takes her wand back out and puts a hand over the latch of the case. “Everyone in the front row, get up and step back.”

Immediately the students at the front get back up from their seats and go much further back than they necessarily had to, but you could appreciate their caution. Sevika waits a moment, hesitating over the latch, before snapping open the case and hurriedly stepping back herself.

The room immediately goes cold, the students gasping and shivering as a great mass of black emerges from the case. You grit your teeth to stop them from chattering, and your hand hovers over your wand. The dementor rises slowly, it’s grey withered hands coming out from under its cloak of shadows and smoke.

It feels awful. Within moments the world seems more grey, a heavy feeling of anxiety and depression settling on your shoulders and swirling in the pits of your stomach. A nearby student moves to cower behind you.

It’s a huge dementor, imposing as it floats up above the desk. It hesitates, noticing the large group of students so full of life and excitement further away, and Sevika who is much closer prey. Making its choice, it reaches out a disgustingly bony hand towards Sevika.

Sevika waits for it to get a little closer before raising her wand up. “Expecto Patronum!” The words sound more like a command rather than a chant, and at once a white light erupts from the wand, wispy at first but swiftly becoming a great barrier between her and the dementor.

Withered hands hold up its hands to its hood where people assume a face must be, before reaching out again in an attempt to claw at the shield of light. Sevika huffs and raises the wand higher, the light shining brighter. It grows until it almost encases the dementor, keeping it from going up, left or right - the only way is down. She lowers her wand, forcing the dementor to descend with it, all the way back into the case. Sevika advances, driving it down further and further before snapping it shut in the case once more.

She pants as she flicks the locks closed and turns back to the gawking students,a short strand of her hair having come loose from her tied back hair. “You all need to know to protect yourselves from one of those. Everybody sit back down.”

The students scramble back to their seats, Caitlyn taking up a blue feathered quill and scratching notes down on her parchment diligently throughout the remainder of the lesson. Vi also scratches down notes, listening attentively and kicking Mylo under the desk when he snickers or makes a comment under his breath.

You stay quiet for the rest of the lesson, following Sevika's explanations and making sure everything is correct - which it is. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed with her patronus charm. It hadn’t formed into any sort of animal as an experienced patronus usually does; from the way she used her light as an encasing bubble, it must be intentional.

The bell signalling the end of first period rings loudly through the halls of the castle. Sevika waves her hand in dismissal and the students pack their things away before making their way out the door. As Caitlyn walks past Vi’s desk, Vi comes over and bumps her on the shoulder.

“Did mommy get you some fancy wand decorations?” she teases. “You too good to touch something that isn’t worth the same amount of money as a dragon egg?”

Caitlyn rolls her eyes and pushes her away, walking out of the room. Mylo catches up with Vi and they both leave together. You frown after them - it hadn’t seemed like a serious interaction, but hopefully Caitlyn wasn’t being bullied.

You step away from the wall and up to Sevika’s desk as the classroom door creaks shut, and hand her the covered rectangle Singed gave you earlier. She frowns and takes it, tearing off the wrapping to reveal some muggle brand name you don’t recognise. Sevika scoffs and puts it into a drawer in her desk, probably because she wants to eat it later or she doesn’t need to.

“So, do you need me again this week?” you ask.

Sevika’s gaze is arrogant as she hands the case back to you. She still hasn’t fixed the stray strand of hair that hangs down just above her eyes. “I don’t need you at all. But yes, be back on Thursday morning and Friday afternoon.”

“You ought to eat the chocolate, it helps.”

“I don’t eat chocolate. I’ll save it for the students though.”

You glance at the chocolate bar, and your stomach rumbles again. Sevika raises an eyebrow and holds the chocolate back out to you. When go to take it, she holds it out of reach and turns around, passing her desk and walking up the staircase before disappearing into the office.

<>

“It is a common misconception that flobberworms are the easiest creature to take care of because of their small size and people assume they have small lifespans. In reality they're meant to live to ten years, but often only make it to two or three due to poor care,” Viktor lectures while the first years around him sigh and poke at their flobberworms.

You crouch down next to Ekko and Powder as they frown at their shared flobberworm. “The older ones change colour when you feed them certain foods,” you whisper. Ekko’s eyes light up and he takes out an orange slice he must have taken from breakfast. “These ones are only two weeks old, I'm not sure that will work.”

After Sevika's lesson yesterday you'd hurried back to Viktor to return the silver case - he said there was a ‘special place’ for it and refused to tell you where he hid it - and spent the rest of your time preparing for today's lesson.

But the first year's introduction to Care of Magical Creatures had never been particularly riveting. It was difficult to defend your love of the subject when this was people’s first impressions.

“We don’t have to take care of these things for ten years, do we?” Powder asks, solemnly poking a slug towards the flobberworm with a twig. Maybe she thinks it would be good food for it.

Viktor had taken the mixed class of gryffindor and slytherin first years to a corner of the reserve field, far away enough that nobody would be able to spot Caramel behind his rocks, and presented them with a thrilling selection of newly born flobberworms the length of your pinky finger. Most of the students are laying down lazily in the grass, staring down at their worms and waiting for them to do something.

“They’re very convenient house pests,” you say brightly, stroking a finger down Power and Ekko’s flobberworm. “They can eat dust bunnies and spiders tend to stay away from them because they eat their webs.”

“Do they do anything other than flop around and eat?” Ekko mutters. Both he and Powder are lying on their stomachs, with Powder kicking her legs up in the air slowly. “Maybe we can feed them to something more interesting.”

“They are also used for fishing bait,” you admit. “I know this isn’t the most exciting start to the subject, but when you’re more experienced you’ll be able to learn about bigger and cooler creatures further into the reserve.”

“Isn’t this the reserve?” Powder asks, looking around the large, empty field. “There’s nothing else here.”

“The field is part of the reserve, but it goes deeper. If you take Care of Magical Creatures as a permanent subject, you’ll be allowed into the area just inside the forbidden forest.”

Ekko and Powder look up at you. “It goes into the forbidden forest? Aren’t there like… lions in there?” Ekko asks.

“Erm… Maybe?” you respond. Come to think of it, Heimerdinger had forgotten to tell the students to stay away from the forbidden forest without express supervision during the welcome feast - he was probably too caught up in assuring the students they were safe inside the castle, let alone out of it. Either other teachers must have warned them about it or the older students had passed along the information.

“Vi told me there’s trolls in there,” says Powder, sitting up. “Mylo told me he saw a dragon in there once, but it’s Mylo so it was probably a rock.”

You’d like to agree with her, but you still haven’t forgotten the distinct flash of large green scales and large growls years ago. “Oh, there’s all sorts of creatures in there. Dangerous ones too, so don’t go anywhere near it unless you have express permission and supervision.”

Powder and Ekko exchange glances before turning to look over at the dark trees much further down the path.

Viktor whistles and all the students look up at him. He holds up a small basket full of flobberworm food. “Flobberworms can eat spiderwebs, dust bunnies, all little inconveniences of the home, but it is not a sufficient diet for them. This food is made specifically for them, mixed with- no, not for you, you stupid horse!”

You jump up to help Viktor as Caramel, somehow smelling the food from the other side of the field - or just waiting for an opportunity - has moved slowly through the taller grass before ambushing Viktor, trying to bite the basket while Viktor stumbles backwards to keep it out of his reach. He pauses for a moment when Viktor shouts at him, then resumes his assault.

“Caramel!” you shout, getting between them to shield Viktor from the giant hooves. “Caramel! Oh- Will he respond to Caramel?” you ask Viktor, pulling him out of the way of a stray hoof.

“Err - I don’t know,” he confesses, hurriedly putting the lid of the basket back on. “Try every sugary treat you can think of.”

“Treacle!” you call, trying to get the abraxan’s attention away from Viktor. “Um, Peach! No, that's a fruit - Cheesecake!”

There’s a lot of gasps and yelps from the students, taken by surprise after such a boring lesson, before they also begin chanting the names of random desserts in an effort to help.

“Sponge cake!”

“Strawberry!”

“Chocolate mousse!”

“Custard!”

Nothing is able to subdue Caramel, or whatever his name is, until Viktor, still clutching the basket of worms close to his chest while clinging onto his cane, once again shouts, “Down, you stupid horse!”

The abraxan stills, halting his attempts to forcefully get to the basket but looking down hopefully at Viktor. You gape at this display.

“How many times have you called him ‘stupid horse’?” you demand. The abraxan turns to you suddenly, then looks back at the basket.

“Well… It’s the only thing I ever call him, really,” Viktor confesses, frowning up at the great horse.

“... Viktor, he thinks that’s his name.”

Viktor squints up at the abraxan, before pointing across the field. “You’ve been fed already today. Go back to your rocks… Er, Stupid Horse.”

There’s a tense pause, then the students start to double over with laughter as the poorly dubbed Stupid Horse sadly turns around and begins to plod away from the group and back to his mound of rocks.

“Wonderful,” Viktor mumbles, pulling his cane up from a hole it had formed in the ground out of fear of death by a greedy giant horse. “Now I have to take precautions for future lessons. We have five minutes left…” Viktor trails off, seeing the students’ faces fall at the idea of having to stare listlessly at their flobberworms for a moment longer. “I suppose we’ll leave it for today. Class dismissed, I’ll walk with you all back up to the castle.”

You snort when the children immediately cheer up and rush Viktor out of the field gates. Care of Magical Creatures is dear to you, but there’s no denying how dull flobberworms can be. As the group flees from the field, Viktor points to the worms and you nod before beginning to gather the worms up in gloved hands into another basket.

When you stand up and go to follow them, you pause in your tracks and scan the group from afar. There should certainly be a distinguishable blue-haired little girl among the group, but she’s nowhere to be seen. You mutter under your breath as you count them from afar - two less than there should be.

Glancing around the field, you see Cara- ‘Stupid Horse’s head just disappearing as he sits down in his usual spot. When he disappears from sight, a brief flash of blue disappears into the thicket of trees much further down.

You curse and set the basket of flobberworms down on the grass by the fence. “Don’t move,” you say unnecessarily, and sprint down the path towards the forest.

You slow down when you reach the edge, panting slightly as you step into the shadowed woods. There was little doubt that Powder wasn’t alone, and you were willing to bet those five sickles you owed Silco that she’d gone with Ekko. They’d been sticking together like glue ever since they’d met on the boat.

Rushing past thick tree trunks and endless shrubbery, you peer through every crack in the wildlife and scrutinise every bush you find. They can’t have gotten too far so quickly, but a lot can go wrong in a short amount of time. At the very least you couldn’t let them wander into the forbidden forest or disturb any creatu-

Tinker. She was still hostile to advances and strangers. While she’d probably recognise them to only be children, her trauma could result in her seeing anything that gets too close as a threat. You grind your teeth and speed up again. As long as they stayed on the path they wouldn’t come across Tinker, but you’d still have to get to them quickly.

You come to a familiar point in the path where you’d divert to move through the bushes to find Tinker’s spot. Those same bushes rustle next to you, and you can hear giggling behind it.

Quick as a flash, you push past the bush and snatch Powder and Ekko back by the collars of their robes. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

They both squeal in surprise and you slap your hands over their mouths quickly.

“Quiet!” you hiss sternly. “You can’t be so disruptive here. You’re not meant to be here at all!”

Ekko lets out another squeak and points further into the woods wildly, his voice muffled against your hand. You follow his finger and freeze when you see Tinker has left her little grove to investigate.

Powder and Ekko stay very quiet and very still, in awe of the hippogriff and utterly terrified as they take in Tinker’s great yet dishevelled appearance. She’s crouched low to the ground once again with her wings raised fiercely, growling in warning.

You maintain eye contact with her, your eyes stinging as you fight not to blink. Her gaze is fierce as she holds your attention, watching as you slowly move backwards with the children, one cautious step after the other.

“Easy,” you murmur softly, unsure if you’re talking to Tinker or the kids. “We’re just leaving…”

Tinker's wings lower as you back away more and more, and you lose sight of her when you pull the kids through the bush with you. When she’s out of your sight, you usher Powder and Ekko quickly back up the back, all of you still keeping quiet until you return to the field.

Confident Tinker would never follow you this far, you turn on the kids. “I need a damn good explanation for that, and since I know you don’t have one, I’ll have to issue you both a detention.”

“No!” Powder exclaims. “I can’t get detention on my second day!”

“Please, Benzo will kill me!” Ekko pleads. “Actually, he might just think it’s funny.”

“Mylo is gonna make fun of me!” Powder wails, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes.

You frown and shake your head. “You both disobeyed me when I told you not to go further into the forest without permission or supervision, and you went without both!”

“We didn’t technically go into the forbidden forest - but we’ve learned our lesson!” Ekko promises, shrinking back at the look on your face. “We didn’t know there would be a hippogriff in there!”

Ah, right. You crouch down in front of them. “Both of you need to keep that to yourselves. That hippogriff is endangered and we’re working to take care of it. I absolutely cannot have any more students wandering in there to get a look at her.”

Ekko taps his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe we can come to an agreement? We’ll keep your secret if you don’t give us detention?”

“This isn’t a negotiation,” you chide. “Neither of you are to spread news about that. Believe me, I will know if you do.”

“We won’t,” says Powder meekly. “But, please don’t give us detention.”

Now that your anger has subsided a little, you notice how shaken up they are. They’re both trembling slightly, the hairs on their arms raised with goosebumps and Powder has gone sickeningly pale. Oh, yes, she’s absolutely going to be sick. You spin her around before she can hurl, and you pat her back as she empties her guts onto the grass.

“Hey, you had oranges for breakfast too!” says Ekko brightly, patting Powder on the back too. She doubles over and spews up the rest of her stomach.

“Alright,” you concede when Powder can stand up straight again. “I need to talk about this with Viktor, but I’ll try to see about not getting you detention. You may still have house points taken off though.”

Ekko looks disappointed but Powder perks up a little.

“Come on, I’ll walk you both back up. One of you can do me a favour and grab the flobberworm basket.”

Chapter Text

A paper origami bird flutters through the classroom, innocently flying near to the front row and higher up into the air, before suddenly diving down and hitting Sevika on the back of the head. She whips around and bats the bird to the floor.

“Knock it off, you need to know this!” she snaps, glaring at the rows of nervous students. But you know she’s only really pissed off at two of them. “Any more disruptions and I'll start handing out detentions to the lot of you.”

From the back of the classroom, Vi and Mylo have been launching a relentless attack. This was the fourth origami bird Sevika had fought off, and she’d snapped two sticks of chalk in half and chucked them away when she’d found they’d both been charmed to write rude gestures on the chalkboard. She also couldn’t sit down behind her desk because the chair had been charmed to slide away whenever goes near it.

This hadn't started during the lesson though. At breakfast her goblet had hopped all over the table before spilling onto her poncho, and when she'd met you in front of her classroom, one of her boots had spontaneously combusted. She'd put it out before any real damage could be done, but needless to say Sevika was in a foul mood before the lesson had even begun.

Unfortunately, nobody had been able to catch Vi doing anything and couldn’t directly accuse her, so Sevika has been taking her frustrations out on you.

“Make yourself useful instead of just standing there,” Sevika barks at you as you stand off to the side.

“I am being useful,” you retort. “You need me to stand here to legally have this lesson.” Technically Sevika isn't doing another demonstration with the dementor, but you were asked to bring it just in case. The silver case sits on Sevikas' desk, and while it's here, so are you.

“What I need is for you to stop giving me back talk. Do I need to tell you what to do as well as the students?”

The class is being made to work in silence, reading excerpts from their textbooks and answering a list of questions for Sevika to check over later. You know she’s not wrong for wanting you to do something more than stand off to the side, but no part of you wants to take her awful attitude.

“I’ll tell you what you need, a kick in the…” you mutter under your breath.

“What was that?” she snaps, glaring at you.

“We could use some help over here, Miss!” Vi calls brightly from her and Mylo’s desk. You and Sevika stare at her suspiciously for a moment, but you’ll take any opportunity to get out of Sevikas' line of fire.

You weave between the desks and come up behind Vi and Mylo. “What did you need help with?” you ask quietly, leaning over to see what question they’re on. Neither of their quills have even touched their parchment.

Vi fishes inside her pocket and takes out a small crudely put together model of wood and nails with dried blue and pink spray painted on in lines. “Present for you from Powder. It’s a mouse, if you’re wondering.”

“Oh, how sweet!” You take the model and run a finger over it. You don't have anywhere convenient to put it right now, so you hold it behind your back. When you take the case back to Viktor you can stop by your hut to drop it off.

You’d managed to sway Viktor from giving Powder and Ekko detention a few days ago and he’d even held off on taking house points, citing that he didn’t want any trouble from Vi so early in the year. Powder hadn’t said anything about Tinker (at least, you were pretty sure she hadn’t), but had spoken highly enough of you that Vi had been quite friendly to you in Sevikas' classes and when you passed her in the hallways.

Apparently, your less than civil relationship with Sevika was, in Vi’s eyes, entirely to your credit.

“Is the ogre giving you trouble, Miss?” Mylo asks. His hands are under the desk and you can hear him fiddling with what sounds like paper.

“I hope you two are taking this seriously,” you lecture, leaning down a little more to keep Sevika from listening. “Dementors are no joke. I know Sevika isn’t your favourite teacher but it’s important that you know this. I’m sure she’d be able to teach you much better if it weren’t for all the distractions being lobbed at her today,” you add.

Mylo snickers and Vi doesn’t bother hiding an exceptionally smug smirk. “It’s a shame she’s having so much bad luck today. I wonder where it could have come from,” she muses.

You tap their desk lightly. “Get something down, these are going to be checked.” You leave them to it, hoping that if they can’t resist pissing Sevika off further then they could at least get a little work done.

Caitlyn’s decorated wand catches your eye once more as you walk past her desk, the sunlight glinting on the silver. It's been put to one side while she scratches ink onto her parchment, her brows furrowed in concentration as she examines the questions in the textbook. She wears a blue ravenclaw tie over her uniform. You'd only seen Caitlyn in a few lessons, but it was safe to say she was a model student.

She taps her quill against her inkpot in frustration. You fetch her another one full of ink from the side, and she gives you a quiet “Thank you, Miss,” before carrying on with her work.

The moment the bell rings in the distance, Sevika waves her wand and everybody's parchment rolls up, flies off the desks and lines up in the air for Sevika to look over. Mylo yelps when the parchment he'd had under the table smacks him in the face. You're eighty percent sure it was accidental.

Sevika grabs two pieces of parchment and the piece Mylo had been fiddling with. “Violet, Mylo, I can see you've wasted your class time doing nothing. Five points each from gryffindor."

Vi groans and Mylo kicks the underside of the desk in defiance. Caitlyn in the front row rolls her eyes at their antics.

“Any whining and I'll take off five more. Now get to your next lessons.”

You siddle over to Sevika's desk as the students pack up. “Harsh,” you murmur.

Sevika glowers at you but waits until the classroom door has shut before snapping, “It's what they deserve for screwing around for the whole hour. You're too soft with them.”

“I wouldn't say that…”

“I would! It's your fault those brats have been messing with me all day!”

“What- How is it my fault?!”

“Viktor tells me,” Sevika starts, her fingers tapping on the desk impatiently, “that on Tuesday, you let two first years off without detention or even taking off house points when they tried wandering into the forbidden forest. And just my luck, one of them had to be Vi’s little sister.”

You shrug like you don't feel a bit bad about letting them off scot-free. “I don't see what that's got to do with anything.”

“Well I had to give Powder detention and take house points from her yesterday, and because you let her off, Vi has decided I'm public enemy number one.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise you were just pissed that I’m not taking the fall with you.”

“You should be! You can’t just let students do whatever they want, even if they are first years, or they’ll do it more because they think they can get away with it,” Sevika lectures, going to grab her poncho off the back of her chair and growling when it scoots away again. When she sees the odd look you give her she clears her throat and instead snatches the dementor case off the desk and hands it out to you.

You recoil immediately and take your wand out. “Wingardium Leviosa,” you mutter, and the case floats from Sevika’s hand into the air. “What did you punish Powder for anyway?”

Sevika makes another pointless lunge for the runaway chair before giving up and turning back to you. “The brat blasted a chair out the window. You didn’t hear about it?”

“Jayce mentioned something about seeing a flying chair the other day…”

“It wasn’t even a practical lesson, she had no reason to have her wand out.” Sevika pokes the floating case.”I don’t think I’ve seen you touch that case more than once. Isn’t liking creatures your whole thing?”

“Dementors aren’t just creatures, they’re monsters,” you say darkly, throwing a contemptuous glance at the case. “It’s in their nature to literally suck the soul from you. They don’t even do it to survive, they just do it because they can.” The case wavers and you steady your wand, clutching Powders' ‘mouse’ in your other hand. Sevika notices it and wrinkles her nose.

“Is that dementor food?” she asks sarcastically, resting against the desk and crossing her arms.

“No, it’s my reward for letting Powder and Ekko off. Dementors feed off negativity and emptiness in human beings, but like I said, they don’t need it to survive.”

“That’s a shame. Maybe you can feed it to something else, it looks like a health hazard,” she taunts, leaning forward to leer over you.

“I’m keeping it - it’s nicer to look at than you.”

“I bet you think that dementor is nicer to look at than me too. To save me some trouble, why don’t you take it back to your hut and give it a little ki-”

“Um, excuse me, Professor Sevika?”

You jump when Caitlyn slowly pushes the classroom door open, and Sevika hastily leans away from you. “What is it?” she asks gruffly.

Caitlyn narrows her eyes, looking between you both. “I… Left my wand on my desk…”

Sevika pushes herself off the desk and makes her way to where Caitlyn had been sitting. She reaches out to take it, then withdraws her hand just as quickly when its silver decoration reflects in the little sunshine that seeps in through the window. She glances back at you, but seeing that your hands are full, she instead takes an old handkerchief from her trouser pocket and picks the wand up with it.

“Here,” she says, dropping the wand into a bewildered Caitlyn’s hands and shoving the handkerchief back in her pocket. Caitlyn murmurs her thanks before quickly leaving again.

“You too good to touch students' wands or something?” you ask, equally as weirded out as Caitlyn.

Sevika hesitates. “I thought it was dirty,” she says lamely.

“... Ah.” You wouldn’t have taken Sevika for a germaphobe.

<>

“I thought we’d already excused you?” Viktor says, holding out a basket to Powder. She scowls and bows her head, reluctantly taking the basket and tucking it under her arm.

"Sevika gave her another one," you whisper to Viktor. "Something about sending a chair through a window."

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Powder grumbles. Classes for the day have finished, and those who have already managed to get into trouble are gathered at the edge of the creature reserve field to go searching for potion ingredients. There are only a few here, mostly older kids, and you’re genuinely shocked to find that Vi isn’t here.

Viktor produces a list from a brown satchel slung over his shoulder. He looks alright today, with some colour in his cheeks and his hair well groomed. “We’ll get the easier ingredients to collect out of the way first. We need aconite, beetle eyes, fairy wings, ginger root- Fine, you get the fairy wings,” Viktor sighs, seeing your nervous expression. “We don’t need that many. And we’ll need horned toads.”

You peer over his shoulder at the list, frowning at just how much Silco needed. There’s no way he could be running through all his stock so quickly, especially aconite - wiggenweld potions are the first potions made by the first-years and often go wrong despite being so simple, so there ought to be more than enough of it down in the ingredients cupboard. Maybe he’s a hoarder.

“Horned toads usually aren’t too far from the fairies, but they’re all the way down by the lake reserve. I can take some kids down there while you grab the stuff in the other direction?” you suggest, scanning the list slowly. “We could get some pufferfish too.”

Viktor nods, taking another look at the students. “Why don’t you just take Powder? She’s the only first year. I can handle the rest, you can get used to telling children what to do.” He lowers his voice and leans closer to you. “Also, she looks miserable. You’d do a better job of cheering her up than I can.”

So you sling a satchel of your own over your shoulder, grab a basket and a bucket, then lead Powder in the opposite direction of Viktors' group. At first she only pouts, dutifully carrying her basket while occasionally kicking stones on the ground, but as the setting changes she starts to look around curiously.

You lead her past a different entrance to the dark forest, rushing past it for fear of her wandering off again, and down a separate path that opens up to a grassy shore along the edge of the lake. Rocks of increasing sizes dot the outskirts of the water where reeds and poke up from the sandy shallows beneath.

“Stay close to me here, okay?” you warn Powder when she walks a little too close to the water. “There’s definitely some creatures here, and you haven’t been taught how to deal with them. Plus, some of them may be dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Like dragons?” Powder asks, her eyes lighting up.

“Maybe. Or like those.” You point to a nearby rock and Powder groans when she sees it’s covered in flobberworms. “Do you have your gloves?”

After checking that both you and Powder are wearing knee-high boots and long brown leather gloves, you take the bucket into the shallow waters and fill it with water, then show her how to search for pufferfish. Charms were littered all along the shore to attract certain animals and creatures for them to be taken for potion ingredients, so there wasn’t a shortage.

“Stay still, wait for it to get a little closer… Then-” You abruptly slice a gloved hand down into the water and retrieve it just as quickly, pufferfish in your clutches. It immediately puffs up, sucking in the air as a reflex. You dunk it into the bucket, and it deflates in the safety of the water. Powder stands still for a moment, then quickly reaches her hand into the water too, squealing when she grabs another pufferfish out by its tail and drops it when it inflates. “Don’t worry, let's give it another go.”

When the bucket has been filled with six healthy if freaked out pufferfish, one of which Powder had managed to fish out herself and another that had sort of bounced in after an unintended game of hot potato between you two, you trudge out of the shallow waters and switch the bucket out for a basket.

Powder has much better luck with the horned toads, who take being picked up and chucked into a cramped space with other toads surprisingly well.

“I wouldn’t try to keep any, they eat mice,” you say when Powder tries to sneak one into her pocket.

“Do you put toads into potions?” she asks, reluctantly putting her chosen toad in with the rest. “Do you have to cook them, or just put them in like this? What do they do?"

“Um… I actually don’t remember what they do, but you don’t need to fry them before putting them in.” Although the idea of Silco cooking nonchalant toads in a saucepan on the stove while wearing an apron isn’t an unwelcome one. “Horned slugs on the other hand can be used to make cures for boils, which I think you’ll be learning after wiggenweld potions.”

Powder hums, poking at another toad that had been spared from the basket. “Are we giving these to Professor Silco?”

“Most of it, yes. Have you had lessons with him yet?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two… I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Why do you say that?” you ask, picking up another empty basket. You still don’t know much about Silco, probably because you’ve been trying to avoid him until you can pay him. It’s been very easy to do so thanks to how much of his time he spends down in the dungeons.

“I spilt bulbadox powder in my cauldron yesterday, and my potion blew up. He was really annoyed and made me stay after the lesson to make it again.”

Why Powder had bulbadox powder anywhere near a wiggenweld potion is beyond you, but her unfortunate first impressions on Silco and Sevika feels uncomfortably familiar. You probably have zero chance of helping Powder win over Sevika, especially because of Vi, but…

“We need fairy wings next, but I hear Silco hasn’t had much luck finding any fairies.”

Powder frowns. “What if we can’t find any?”

“We’ll find some. But if Silco asks…” you pass the basket to Powder and guide her further down the path, stopping at an inconspicuous clump of bushes tucked away in another shadowed thicket, “you found some.”

<>

Silco peers suspiciously into the basket, the bottom filled with fairy wings. “In my four years at Hogwarts, I’ve never been able to find more than four or five fairies a month. You’re telling me you found a cluster of them in your first week?”

Powder shuffles nervously under Silco’s sceptical gaze, uncomfortable under the mismatched blue and fiery orange eyes. “Fairies like their reflection, so I thought they’d be by the lake instead of the forest.”

To her credit, she’d figured that out herself rather than you having to tell her why they’d all gathered inside a hollowed out hole in the ground beneath the bushes that was decorated with an obscene amount of mirrors. You’d told Powder that she didn’t have to help get the wings since the fairies tended to bite when you went for their wings, but she’d taken off her gloves, rolled up her sleeves, and this time observed carefully as you showed her how to gently break the wings off so there was no material leftover, giving their backs space to grow their wings back. Both of you had little red marks on your fingers.

The other basket of horned toads and the bucket of pufferfish are situated on the worktable at the pack, all very calm about being displaced from their natural environments.

Silcos' eyes rest on the bitemarks and he sighs, walking off to select a potion from one of the shelves, tracing a finger over labels carefully.

“Come here, child,” he orders, popping the cork off the top of a bottle. He takes Powders' hands and pours some green solution into them. “Rub that in and the marks should be faded by dinner. Five points to slytherin.”

Powder beams as she skips out of the classroom, waving to you before hurrying down the corridor, probably to go and find Vi.

“Viktor tells me you have an affinity with creatures,” Silco coaxes, pouring solution into your own cupped hands. “I had reason to doubt it after those incidents with your niffler.”

You hunch your shoulders in embarrassment. “I am sorry about that. I ought to have trained her better before letting her out of her cage.”

Silco replaces the cork and puts the bottle back on the shelf. “Yes, I’d have expected that somebody working primarily with creatures would have a better handle on them,” he says harshly. He pauses before turning back to you. “But, if you’re able to work with more dangerous creatures that happen to be good for potion ingredients… I might forgive the matter of paying me back for my coat.”

“I’ll pay you back,” you say immediately, “but I’m happy to get some ingredients for you, if I can. Why not ask Viktor though?”

“Have you seen Viktor lately? I’d ask him, but I fear he’d drop dead under the extra strain.”

“Oh. Right.”

“... If I were to provide you with a list, I’d appreciate it if you could get what you can.”

You brighten up as you see the opportunity to salvage your relationship with Silco and get Viktor off of your back a bit. “Sure thing.”

“Good. And… Perhaps don’t mention it to Viktor. He thinks I’m going through ingredients too quickly as it is.”

<>

It should be common sense that on Saturday mornings, everybody should be privy to an extra hour or two of lounging in bed. Unfortunately, Stupid Horse does not know what a Saturday is, or what manners are, and you find yourself rudely awoken at 7AM by Fief screeching when a giant hoof kicks in the door of your hut.

“I KNOW, I KNOW, I’M SORRY!” you shout, leaping out of bed and shooing Stupid Horse back with a tablecloth before getting changed as quickly as you can. You get a bowl out for Fief’s peanuts before remembering you ran out of them yesterday, so you make the disgruntled niffler hurried promises of getting her breakfast in a little bit and leave the hut to go and grab a basket of abraxan food.

You head to the field, closely tailed by Stupid Horse (Merlin, you need to train him to respond to literally anything else) and go towards the spot where the baskets of food are kept. You open up the lid of the closest one just to find it empty. And the next one. And the next one.

“For goodness sake,” you mutter, glaring up at Stupid Horse as he towers above you expectantly. “Stay here, I need to get more food for you. Don’t give me that look,” you add tiredly when he blinks and stomps his hoof. “I won’t be long.”

You leave Stupid Horse to whine and complain in the field and make your way up the path to the castle, missing the warmth of your bed. The corridors of the castle are mostly empty at this time, with breakfast starting in another twenty minutes. You navigate past the great hall, past the trophy case, past the infirmary…

The staircases seem irate this morning and swing violently like they want to throw you off. It’s only when you smack the concrete bannister and yell at them to knock it off that they calm down.

The dungeons are no less miserable today than they were when you first got here, the echo of your steps bouncing off the stone walls and following you further down. You pass the door to the slytherin common room, pausing when you hear some sort of commotion going on inside. But you decide it’s none of your business and continue on your way, taking no notice of more footsteps coming down the hallway.

Finally you find a door labelled ‘Food Storage (Creature Reserve)’. Thankfully it’s unlocked - you’d left your key behind on the table in your haste - and you let the door swing shut behind you after turning on a glass lamp situated on a nearby shelf.

For a storage space it’s a little cramped, with two walls completely taken up by shelves filled with tins, baskets, sacks and boxes all roughly labelled. A small stool sits in the corner, probably to stand on to grab things from the top shelves. You crouch down to inspect a large cardboard box with ‘Abraxan Food’ scribbled in thick black ink on the side.

There’s noise from behind the door, and you can hear heavy footsteps approaching outside. You nearly drop a tin you were looking at when Sevika suddenly barges in, her brows furrowed and her lips curled up in annoyance. “Why are you even in here-” her voice is hoarse from sleep, but she breaks off when she sees you and frowns. “What?”

“What?” you parrot, staring up at her in bewilderment. Sevika tilts her head, wheels turning in her mind, but before she can do anything the door slams shut. You hear a voice muttering outside, the sound of the door locking, and then a chorus of excited giggles. “For fuck’s sake,” Sevika grumbles, pulling at the door to no avail. She reaches into the back pocket of her trousers and her eyes widen. “Where is-” she cuts herself off again and slams her fist against the door, shouting “Vi!”

“I thought it would be fancier.” You frown when you recognise Powders' voice. “But it’s just a cedar wand with a dittany stalk.”

“Makes sense,” Vis' own voice adds on. “No half-decent wand would wanna be used by Sevika.”

“You took my wand?!” Sevika hits the door again but already the voices are getting further away.

“Powder! What the hell are you doing?!” you shout, jumping up from where you were crouched. You get no response - they must have left for breakfast. “What the hell are they doing?! Are they always this bad?”

Sevika runs a hand over her face. “Can you unlock the door?”

“Yeah, I…” You trail off as you feel into your pockets, your face falling when you realise you’d left it behind in the hut… with the keys to this room.

“You don’t have your wand? Why wouldn’t you have your wand?” Sevika demands, exasperated.

“You don’t have yours either!”

“Those brats swiped it from me!”

You put up your hands. “Okay, okay. There might be a spare set of keys in here, but even if not, Silco and Singed will probably be down here, and we’re not far from the slytherin common room.”

Sevika sighs. “No, Singed is already in the greenhouses, and Silco… Is somewhere else.”

“Well, Viktor will probably notice I haven’t fed Stu- the abraxan, and the food baskets are empty so he might come here to check for that food.”

“No, Viktor will be with Silco. They mentioned they’d be busy this morning.”

You close your eyes with half a mind to pray for patience. “Okay… You’re probably big enough to break down the door, right?”

“Shut up,” Sevika scowls, but she glances at the door like she’s considering it. “Why are you even here?”

“I just said the abraxan food baskets were empty, didn’t I? I came down here to get more. That horse kicked my door in because he hadn’t gotten his breakfast.” A shiver runs down your spine at the sustained cold of the dungeons. “Why are you here?”

“Vi and Mylo told me Powder had gotten stuck in here,” Sevika says slowly. Her hand twitches at her side in a manner that suggests she’d rather like to wrap it around somebody’s neck.

“Aren’t they gryffindors? Why would they be down here? They’re fourth years, they know how to use ‘alohomora.’”

“I just woke up, I wasn’t thinking about that,” she snaps. “And I’m still waking up, so pipe down.”

Good to know she even wakes up with a shitty attitude. You huff and sit down on the stool, resting your elbow on your leg and idly looking over the container labels. After a few moments, Sevika leans back against the door, already resigned to the situation.

There’s a lot of different foods in here, and soon you’re standing up again as you investigate the surprising stock. There’s abraxan food of course, food especially for salamanders, kelpies, unicorns, chimaeras… “Ugh, why would you want to feed acromantulas?” you mutter to yourself, wrinkling your nose at a basket and moving onto the next. “‘Hebridean Black Dragons’?!”

“We don’t have any dragons, they’re ‘just in case’ we get any,” says Sevika, putting an immediate damper on your excitement. “Do you love or hate creatures?”

“Of course I love creatures.”

“You hate dementors and apparently acromantulas though?"

“I told you, dementors are monsters,” you correct haughtily. “Acromantulas are creatures but… I just don’t like them. They’re huge, they’re hairy, they have so many limbs… They take you by surprise, they wrap you in webs if you’re still alive to save you as a snack for later…” You shiver once more, shaking your head. “They freak me out. And they can talk, which makes it worse.”

“They don’t talk,” says Sevika doubtfully. “Do they?”

“They can.”

“Bull.” Sevika pushes herself off the wall and begins looking through the tins of the shelf on her side, not even glancing at the labels as she moves them. You watch curiously as she crouches down before the small space between the door and the shelf. “There’s a hole here…”

You look down over her shoulder. “How big is it?”

“Not that big. Could barely get your rat in here.”

“That’s the…” You quickly count on your fingers, “eighth time you’ve called Fief a rat. In two weeks. But yeah, she couldn’t get through that, so I probably can’t either.”

Sevika stares at you. “No shit. Are there potion ingredients here? Maybe we could make something?”

“With what cauldron?” But you start scanning the labels again thoroughly at her suggestion. There's nothing particularly useful that you can see, so you step up into the stool to check the top shelves. “What can we do with baskets of dead ferrets?"

“We can force feed them to Vi and her lackeys,” Sevika mutters, coming up behind you. “They get worse every year. Claggor’s the only one who can behave himself.”

"Who?"

“Claggor. Curly brown hair, goggles for glasses.”

“Oh, I was wondering about him.” You push a tin to one side and pause. Behind it is a tiny hole in the wall, smaller than the one in the bottom corner, with some strange dark purple substance around the outside. It's faint, and there's barely any of it, but instead of growing over the wall it seems to have embedded itself into it. You check the tin you moved to find it, but the label has withered to leave only the first word, ‘Unicorn.’ You take the tin off the shelf and pop off the lid, but the inside is completely empty.

It was probably for unicorn horns, since they could be used for antidotes to poisons, draughts of peace, or especially effective wiggenweld potions. Strange to keep them in a tin though, considering they were becoming increasingly harder to find. Maybe unicorn hairs for beautification potions?

“What are you looking at? Did you find something?”

You look down suddenly to Sevika, having completely forgotten about her. “Do you guys use unicorn horns for potions or something?”

Sevika frowns at the tin in your hand. “You'd have to ask Silco, but they'd probably be kept somewhere else. Why?”

“This tin is labelled as ‘unicorn’ something, but it's empty so I don't know what it is. There's some purple stuff behind it too…”

Sevika tenses up. “If you don't know what it is, put it down. And get down, if it's a potion substance you shouldn't touch it.”

You put the tin back reluctantly and hop off the stool. “So, why does Vi hate you? Aside from the obvious.”

Whether it's out of mercy or disdain that Sevika ignores your comment you can't say, as she chooses instead to also begin looking through the labels.“I knew her and Powder before they went to Hogwarts since I frequented Vander’s bar a few years ago, but he and Silco don't get along. They viewed it as some sort of betrayal that I started working with Silco and stopped going to the bar. Vander wasn't too happy with me either.”

“That's it?” you press dubiously.

“Vander probably said something to them too. He doesn't want his kids too close to me or Silco, so he wasn't happy when we became teachers at Hogwarts.”

“So you knew Silco before Hogwarts too? You guys seem close.”

Sevika shrugs. “We've always worked in the same circles, and we decided we had a lot of common interests. I've known him long enough to have some sense of loyalty to him.”

“As in, where he goes, you go?” It's hard to miss Sevika's closeness to Silco in comparison to everybody else. They sat together at meals, they talked to each other in low voices in the corridors and they exchanged cigarettes when they weren't around students. “Because you work together?”

“You were Viktor’s student years ago, right? It's a bit like that, I guess. Silco helped me when I was in a rough place, and now we work together to help each other,” Sevika explains vaguely, choosing her words carefully.

You nod, realising you likely won't get any specifics out of her. “Can I ask about Jayce and Mel? She called him a dog on my first day here.”

Sevika bristles but relaxes quickly. “I don't know what goes on between them. Jayce joined last year and obviously joined Mel's long list of admirers, but he doesn't have- they don't hangout much, as far as I can tell. But he helps her out whenever she needs anything.”

“That makes sense. He must be busy with teaching, tutoring Caitlyn… Oh, I wanted to ask about Caitlyn. She's not being bullied, is she?”

“Bullied?” Sevika raises an eyebrow at you. “People love her. She's on the ravenclaw quidditch team, and she earns a shit ton of house points.”

The quidditch team? “Oh, I guess it's just a rivalry. I heard Vi saying something to her in one of your lessons and I thought they didn't get along.”

To your surprise Sevika actually chuckles. “Sure, something like that.” At that moment your stomach growls noisily and you groan.

“I'm starving,” you complain, going to the door to open it. Sevika, rather than correct you, watches as you pull on the door for a solid thirty seconds before you remember that you're stuck in there.

“You're not really that stupid, are you?” she asks when you kick the door in frustration.

“Excuse me, I'm tired and hungry, I need to feed a giant horse, and I've been stuck in here with you for ten whole minutes.”

“Poor you. I don't want to be in here with you either, I’ve got more important things to do.”

“You probably wouldn't be if your brain had kicked in before you started listening to Vi,” you murmur spitefully. “I wouldn't be in here either.”

“Alright, next time I'll just read every kid's mind before they ask me to do anything. You don't think I get tired from dealing with these brats all day, seven days a week?” Sevika retorts.

“You've got like half as many as usual this year, shouldn't that make things easier on you?”

“Yes, but now I have to deal with you and your manic creature fascination instead. You're nicer to rats than you are to me.”

“You're not nice to anyone!” you snap back. “My niffler doesn't talk back to me, and she doesn't go out of her way to kick you!”

“You're still pissed about that?”

“Of course I am, you still haven't apologised to her!”

“To her?! I'm not apologising to a kleptomaniac, overgrown rat with a beak!”

“She's a niffler and she's a perfectly healthy size for her age!”

“How healthy can she be when her owner is-”

Caught up in the argument, Sevika's arm knocks against the shelf where the lamp is situated. It wobbles on the edge, teetering precariously, before tipping over and smashing onto the floor, leaving the room in nearly total darkness apart from a little bit of light from the hole by the door.

Sevika lets out a colourful string of curses somewhere behind you. You hesitantly step back from the door, trying to feel your way through the darkness. The sound of glass moving on stone makes you flinch as your shoe brushes against some of the lamp remains.

“Did you get any glass on you?” you ask when you find a break in between Sevikas’ profanity.

“No, I’m fine,” she says quietly. “Get away from where it smashed, if you cut yourself we won’t be able to heal it.”

“D’you think there’s plasters in here?”

“Why? Did you get hurt?”

“No, I meant just in case…”

“It’s not like we can check,” Sevika mutters. You can barely make out her frame in the shadows, even less so the shattered glass. You put a hand out to feel your way around better but knock something else off the shelves - not glass, luckily, but something splats onto the floor. “What happened?” Sevika asks sharply.

“No idea,” you lie, moving to try and step over the mess - and end up slipping on it.

Sevika grunts when your hands reach out blindly to grab onto something to stay upright, then you hear her curse, the squeak of boots on something slimy and whatever you grabbed falls down, taking you with it.

You hiss as your side hits the stone floor hard and Sevika groans somewhere next to… behind… Underneath you?

When the realisation hits you hurried move to get off of her, but a hand grabs your shoulder roughly to keep you in place.

“Stop moving so much before you drop a whole shelf on us!” she scolds. “Just- Move slowly, okay? Sit up.”

“Fine, sorry…” Slowly you make yourself sit upright, wincing as you can already feel the bruising where you fell on the stone. Your hands are still grasping onto what you now realise must be Sevika, so you loosen your grasp and move so you’re sitting on the floor. “Gargoyles…”

You hear Sevika shuffling and pulling herself upright too, then you freeze when you feel her hand on your back. She must be trying to get a feel for where you are, and you feel her side brush up on yours briefly. In comparison to the cold and dingy room, Sevika’s hand is pleasantly warm on your back.

There’s a moment of awkward silence as you both take in your situation. You’re in a nearly pitch black room, you can barely see, the room is so cramped that you risk anything and everything falling on you with one wrong move, there’s glass in the corner, and whatever you knocked onto the floor smells like dead fish. It probably is dead fish.

“I’m going try to stand up,” you warn, feeling for Sevika and grabbing what you’re pretty sure is her shoulder.

“Why are you using me as support?”

“I can’t risk using a shelf, can I?” You grip her shoulder to pull yourself up. Sevika huffs but her hand stays on your back to keep you from falling back down. You fumble around again with caution, letting your fingers brush along the shelves and the wall. The smell of fish is unpleasant but not too distracting. One very careful step after another, and soon you’ve left Sevika at her spot on the floor and you’re leaning against the door.

“You know… If the floor is slippery enough, we could use you as a bowling ball and break the door off,” you suggest.

“You need somebody to throw bowling balls. Better if we use you.”

“Or we could wait for Stupid Horse to come down here and bash the door open.” Because of the hurry you were in earlier, you hadn’t stopped to check the damage to your own door. “I hope he didn’t break my door. It’s an essay fix, but I don’t want anything getting in and scaring Fief.”

“Maybe something will get in and eat her,” Sevika mutters.

“How can somebody as big as you have such a grudge against something so small?”

“I wouldn’t hate it so much if you at least trained it.”

“You haven’t seen her since my second day here!”

“I’d rather stay blind than see that stupid little rat again.”

You shush Sevika, holding a finger to your lips that she can’t see. Before she can get up and strangle you for it, she hears the scratching behind the door. You kneel down, poking a finger through the hole beside it. Something sniffs you, before short soft fur rubs against the finger fondly.

“Oh, Fief!” you exclaim, scratching her stomach and ignoring Sevikas’ groaning. “Did you follow me all the way down here, sweetie? Did you get down all those staircases by yourself? Such a smart girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m going to be sick,” Sevika grumbles. “Why is it down here?”

“She was probably wondering why I was taking so long to get her peanuts.” Fief squirms out of your reach, then you feel her beak press something into your hand. “What, did you bring me a sti- Oh!” You withdraw from the hole in the wall, wand in hand. “Lumos.”

Sevika’s eyes widen in disbelief as the room lights up, and you both get a good look at the mess you’ve made. Indeed, dead fish and weird green slime coats the floor around Sevika, who is sitting with her back to the wall and one arm draped over her knee. You can see one of the stool legs jetting out uncomfortably beneath her, and the shattered glass of the lamp is littered all across the ground.

You turn back to the door and murmur, “alohomora.” Click.

Wasting no time, Sevika pulls herself up, barely keeps herself from slipping on a fish or stepping on a glass shard, and pushes past you to grab the handle and swing the door open. Fief squawks as she scrambles out of her way to avoid being crushed by her boots. You follow suit, picking Fief up and hugging her gratefully.

“Come on,” Sevika orders, clearly expecting you to keep up with her. “I’ll clean up later. You need to learn how to discipline these brats.”

<>

Twenty minutes later, you stand with Sevika behind the desk of her office, set above the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. In front of you stands Vi with her arms crossed, Mylo with his hands nonchalantly resting behind his head, and Powder, who is literally shaking in her boots. Sevikas’ wand has been returned to her, and sits in her back pocket.

“Barely a week into the school year, and your behaviour is worse than ever! I thought you’d at least try to set a better example for your little sister but you’ve decided to drag her down with you! A month of detentions for all of you. Yes, her too!” Sevika lectures furiously when Vi opens her mouth. “I don’t care if Powder is in her first year, you all need to start facing the consequences of your actions. Twenty house points from each of you!”

“Twenty?!” Powder squeaks in horror. Vi grits her teeth but doesn’t say anything. Mylo doesn’t seem all that bothered, although he does glance back at Vi.

“I expect you to get a grip. Especially you, Violet,” Sevika spits venomously, planting her palms on the desk and leaning forward. “Or I’ll have to talk with Grayson about your place on the quidditch team.”

Vi’s nose flares angrily, but Mylo is the one who speaks next. “Are you Professor Sevika’s assistant or something?” he enquires, looking at you boredly.

“No, I’m… Sort of everybody’s assistant," you say awkwardly, taken by surprise.

“Why are you only ever with Professor Sevika then?”

“She’s not,” Powder pipes up. “Miss helps with Professor Viktors’ lessons too. And detentions.”

“Why is she here then?” Mylo drawls.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” you say sternly. “I’m here because you locked me in with Sevika. I was in the storage room.”

Vi’s eyes widen and she scratches the back of her head guiltily. “Oh, sorry Miss. We didn’t know.”

“I’m so sorry!” Powder gasps, holding her hands to her chest nervously. “We didn’t mean to trap you in there too.”

Sevika gapes at the students in disbelief. “What, she gets an apology and I don’t?”

“Why would we apologise to you?” Vi asks blankly. "And why you smell like fish?"

“Five more points from gryffindor. Now get out.”

Vi leads the group out of the office, putting an arm around Powders' shoulders and kicking the door shut behind them. Sevika takes a very deep breath before collapsing in her chair - not the one from the classroom, which was still running away from her - and letting it out slowly.

“So,” you say after a few moments, “do you want to thank Fief for coming all the way down to the dungeons and basically freeing us?”

Sevika slowly looks up at you with narrowed eyes, and tells you in no uncertain terms, to “Fuck off.”

“Thought so.” As you turn to leave, you feel something tug at your arm. “What?”

“Where did you hurt yourself?” Sevika asks, letting go of you and opening a drawer in her desk. She fishes around before producing a wide, round potion bottle with liquid similar to what Silco gave you yesterday.

“On my side. It’s not that bad,” you start, pulling up your shirt slightly to reveal the damage. “Oh. It’s a bit bad.”

Sevika holds out the bottle to you. “Apply this when you can. If the bruising is still there, put more on before you go to bed and in the morning. Just drop it off here when you’re done with it.”

You take the potion, holding it up and peering inside. “Thanks. Are you sure you don’t need it? I saw you crushed the stool.”

“Don’t be an ass or I’ll take it back.”

“I was just asking. I’ll bring it back, I need to check on my hut.”

“To check if the door is broken? I’d leave it alone for a while,” Sevika suggests.

“Why?”

“So something wanders in and eats your rat.”

“Shut up. Don’t you have anything better to do than bitch about my niffler?”

“Don’t you have to feed a giant horse?”

“I…” You pause, staring blankly at Sevika, then gasp out, “I do!” and rush out of the room.

Chapter Text

The clattering of cutlery, the idle morning chatter and the influx of owls swooping in through the windows to drop the mail onto peoples' heads all work together to create the early organised chaos of the day. One particularly gorgeous snowy-white owl gracefully drops a letter into Caitlyn’s lap at the ravenclaw table. A small brown and rather shabby owl drops a package onto Mylo’s head before promptly crashing into his breakfast.

“This isn’t even for me!” he exclaims furiously, handing the package over to Vi. Powder snickers from her place at the slytherin table right behind him and ducks when Mylo lunges over to smack her over the head.

“Don’t worry, a prefect will sort it out,” Mel reassures you as you frown in the kids’ direction. Sure enough, an older blonde boy from slytherin house sitting near Powder stands up and begins berating Mylo. “That's Deckard. I always thought he was an odd choice for Silco considering how he used to be as troublesome as them, if not worse.”

It’s been about three weeks since you’ve officially started working at Hogwarts. The end of September is creeping up and October is bound to be busy with the start of the quidditch season and the term trip to Hogsmeade. The matter of keeping the creatures, especially Tinker, warm as the weather becomes colder is a matter you’ll have to consider later.

“Who are the heads of houses?” you ask, relaxing when you see Mylo roll his eyes and go back to ignoring Powder. Claggor fishes the poor bird from his plate. “I know Silco is the head of slytherin but I haven’t caught up on everybody else.”

“I am the head of ravenclaw, Grayson is head of gryffindor, and Singed is head of hufflepuff,” Mel lists, delicately putting down her goblet. “I feel Jayce or Viktor would make better candidates for my position, but Viktor doesn’t have the interest and Jayce is still a little young.”

You glance past Mel to see Jayce and Viktor sitting together, hunched over and whispering about something, but they hush up when they see you peering over at them. When you squint at them suspiciously Jayce offers you a small wave. His package sits to one side of his plate, ignored. You’d caught them doing the same thing twice last week in a hallway and in the courtyard - it made you wonder if they really wanted to be caught or were just too excited about whatever it was they were discussing that they couldn’t wait to actually talk about it in private.

“They’ve been doing that ever since Jayce started here at Hogwarts,” Mel murmurs when you finally look away from them. “Viktor won’t say a word about it.”

“Sounds like him. How about Jayce?” You could imagine Mel cornering Jayce in his own classroom and asking in her honeyed voice what he was up to. Nothing against Jayce, but he did seem the type to crumble for a gorgeous woman like Mel.

“Nothing out of him, either.” Mel shakes her head in disbelief. “But if I had to guess, I believe they’re trying to find or make something for Viktor, if you know what I mean.”

You reach for your own goblet and sip from it slowly to keep from glancing back to Jayce and Viktor. Honestly you weren’t too surprised to hear it - you’d never quite believed that Viktor had accepted his inevitable fate. Since coming back to Hogwarts he still stumbled, still clung to his cane that he refuses to exchange for a proper crutch. Viktor wanted to do so much despite his circumstances. Maybe too much.

“Are you supervising for Sevika today?” Mel asks.

“No, not today. I’m only doing it until the end of this week.” You look over to Sevika before quickly looking down when you meet her stormy grey eyes, staring at you sceptically while Silco whispers something to her. What an awfully secretive breakfast. “I'm... Just going into the forest for a bit this morning.”

Mel’s knife slips uncomfortably on her plate but she puts her cutlery down gracefully without missing a beat. “I would steer clear of the forest over the next few days. I’m sure you’re capable, but it always gets more dangerous as the nights grow longer and colder.”

“I wouldn’t go in there during the evening. I might have to go in there at night in the next few months for… Um, certain creatures, but I won’t be in there long if I can help it. Which reminds me…” You stretch out your arms and push your empty plate forward. “I was thinking of having a proper exploration of all the habitats anyway, since I’m not needed anywhere else.”

“Are you getting a lay of the land or trying to find particular creatures?” Mel seems focused on the scrambled eggs on her plate, but you don’t miss the prying nature of her questions. You wouldn’t peg Mel as the type to be so interested in the subject.

“Both? I’m not trying to get into trouble, I'm only having a look around. If it matters that much then I won’t go further than the lake, so if Viktor asks, tell him he doesn’t need to panic about me riding giant serpents or anything.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin and stand up from the table. “Good luck with lessons today.”

Mel waits until you’ve crossed the hall and left through the double doors before leaning over to Jayce and Viktor, muttering something to them. Then she stands up and makes her way over to Silco and Sevika, where she leans down and whispers in Sevika’s ear.

Sevika's brow furrows at Mel's words and something akin to a growl rumbles in her throat as she glares after you. "Is she always such a fucking problem?" she mutters spitefully.

<>

You flick your wand and the dead fish on the forest floor flops a little closer to Tinker, who stands guard in front of her nest for this mighty foe. She hisses and swipes at it with a clawed foot, sending it flying back through the clearing until it hits a tree and sadly slides back down the bark and onto the ground.

Tinker's diet has not made the progress you'd hoped for in the last few weeks. She was becoming accustomed to your morning visits but still made it abundantly clear she wanted you to keep your distance, so the most you could do to deliver her food was charm a few fish or ferrets over to her because she kept trying to attack the basket.

To make matters worse, her feathers were still in a terrible state. If she didn’t shape up they wouldn’t grow in time for winter and she’d end up freezing to death. You chew your bottom lip anxiously. The best thing you could do, if they didn’t grow in, was to get close enough to her that she’d allow you to tuck her up in a blanket in the evening. No, that wouldn’t work. If any predators came around then it could get in the way…

At least she knew she had to eat. While she didn’t always accept your offerings, she was slowly beginning to venture further from her shabby nest to find more stray mice or unfortunate birds to devour.

Does she not like fish? You frown down into your basket, casting a critical eye over the salmon. If Tinker wouldn’t eat it then you’d have to find something else that would before they began to rot; preservation magic was not your strong suit. But fish is one of the best foods for hippogriffs because of its eagle half. Should you get meat for the lion half or something? Were the ferrets not good enough for her?

You sigh and lean against a nearby oak tree. You’re outside the clearing and staying in the shadows in case Tinker gets angry about you invading her territory.

The local wildlife that still persists even with Tinker officially moved in has also grown used to your presence. Noting some small blue birds on a low branch, you reach into your pocket and produce a small pouch filled with sunflower seeds. They hop back when you sprinkle a few further along the branch but are quick to start munching the moment you take your hand away. Tinker could learn a thing or two from them.

You put the pouch away and instead take out a small roll of parchment, slightly crumpled from the cramped space. Silco had given you the list of ingredients he wanted to get his hands on a couple of days ago but after reading through it you had to wonder what kind of potions he was trying to make.

Abraxan hair was manageable thanks to Caram- Stupid Horse, fluxweed could easily be found further down the lake, valerian was definitely harder to find and identity but you could manage it - but dragon liver? Did he think you’d just find one wandering around the reserve or forbidden forest? And unicorn blood? Silco gave you the impression of somebody with high expectations but you would have hoped he’d be realistic.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s mentioned this side quest he’s sent you on to Sevika since they seem so close. The more you think about it, you can’t recall ever actually hearing a conversation between them save for perhaps back on the Hogwarts Express. Sure, you’d seen them together and talking and exchanging lighters, but for now it was a total mystery as to what they actually liked to discuss.

Sevika comes off as a bit extreme, searching for any excuse to get back at Vi and her group for their poor behaviour that feels slightly less than professional and teetering more on petty, but aside from that you’d describe her as no-nonsense and headstrong- or she’s just stubborn but makes it look more serious because she’s so scary. First impressions had you initially believe she would be more quiet and withdrawn, but she’s actually very outspoken.

Aesthetically she goes well with Silco who is more elusive than Sevika but more quietly influential on her so she intentionally takes on a sort of supportive background role when he’s centre frame, looming behind him as if to remind you how small you are when talking to him. You’d seen how students tended to quiver more when they approached them together. It’s like they had a secret alliance to terrify the children enough so they’d stop coming up to ask for help.

You’re procrastinating. You huff and roll the parchment list up and shove it back into your pocket. It was about time you made a start on finding these ingredients if you wanted to get your hands on even one of them for Silco.

Tinker pecks at the many loose sticks of her nest while you consider where to start the search. The lake-side would be easier to traverse and you'd have more success there than anywhere else.

On the other hand, you were already on the cusp of the forbidden forest. You spare Tinker another glance before wandering away from the clearing and cautiously through the thicket. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to explore the forest during the daylight before the days become shorter.

Not too far, you remind yourself as you step over thick tree roots and fiddle with the pouch in your pocket. It’s easy to get lost here, especially after all this time. Already one hand reaches for your wand as you realise venturing out in the light makes little difference when the trees are so tall and thick and the leaves work together to create a flimsy but complete roof that you can’t see the end of.

Leaves and twigs crunch and snap beneath your shoes despite your mindful footing. Hopefully anything dangerous in here was nocturnal because you were making an awful lot of noise. You shiver as you recall escapades in your youth that led to you discovering an enormous, foul nest full of acromantula in here. Merlin, they wouldn’t be awake, would they? They thrive in darkness and this forest is incredibly dark even in the middle of the day. You grasp your wand tightly, almost gagging at the thought of seeing a huge, furry leg disappearing around a tree trunk, or disgusting cobwebs hanging right above you…

Your foot hits something soft and you yelp, jumping back and pointing your wand at whatever it was. It’s… a pile of leaves that have gathered in a spot right next to a particularly enormous tree. Terrifying. There must be something under them but before you can check your attention is held by the tree.

Why was this particular tree so familiar? You squint and start circling it, keeping your wand raised in case it comes to life and takes a swipe at you like a whomping willow. The bark is lighter than the other trees with less mulch. It must be a newer tree, but it’s far more impressive than the others. You crane your neck up to observe the boughs, also thick and strong, and they branch out quite far, each one with a healthy cover of dark leaves.

Hang on. You put a hand on the tree trunk and circle around it once more until you find a certain spot where your fingers phase right through the bark.

“This is my tree!” you exclaim. Without any hesitation you put your whole head through the invisible gap.

It is your tree! The trunk is completely hollowed out with small ledges intentionally grown around the the sides that climb upwards as a sort of staircase that leads to the very top where one can access the branching boughs. The floor is made up of wood from the tree of course but it’s still covered with blankets you’d brought yourself, more frayed and worn but still in good shape.

‘Good shape’ might not be the right phrase. There are claw marks scratched into the sides, and many of the blankets have been torn here and there - not big tears, but many of them.

Instead of dismay at the little displays of destruction, you are delighted at the apparent damage. You crouch down to inspect the blankets, grinning excitedly at the stray bits of fur and hair, little scuffs in the fabric and around the interior. There must be creatures who found the tree all on their own and felt comfortable enough to stay here for a while.

… Had there always been this many blankets? You run your fingers through the felt and examine the threads. You remember having to use magic to fix them up in the past but had you really done this much? Your ‘repairo’ had always been a bit shabby but these threads were a completely different pattern to the rest of the needlework and even another colour to the blankets they were matched to. You’d mostly used brown and green blankets to blend better into the environment and keep the creatures cosy but some of these were a dusty red and dark purple. Have you really bought all of these?

Oh, maybe Viktor had stopped by to drop them off. Had he been the one to sew up some of the damage? Strange - it looked as though he’d done it by hand instead of using magic. Plus, no offence to Viktor, his hands weren’t nearly as steady as they used to be.

How could you possibly have forgotten to come and check on this place? You’d grown this tree yourself in your third year when you were tired of Viktor plucking you away from the forbidden forest - you just wanted a peek at the creatures, maybe a pat on their adorable heads if you were lucky. It had taken literal months of pestering Singed, who was confused about your newfound passion in herbology, and your old charms professor, who had given your parents false hope that you’d found a subject they considered worthwhile to pursue.

In your seventh year you’d reluctantly told Viktor where you were sneaking off to because your ventures into the forbidden forest had been getting longer and more stressful on him, and he’d made you show him exactly where it was. Once he’d deemed it was actually safe, close by the reserve and a healthy distance from any dangerous creature nest, he’d actually congratulated you on growing the tree and adjusting it from scratch before slapping you with three months of detention for basically building your own creature reserve within the forbidden forest.

It wasn’t really a reserve. But it was easy for creatures to get lost or hurt within the forest and it became easier for them to realise you weren’t just snatching them up in their weakened states to take them home and eat them, but to take them to the tree, feed them and heal them up as best you could while giving them a place to rest and setting them free. The tree had been swarmed with all sorts of different creatures hoping for a convenient place to stay or something to nibble on in your later school years.

But if something that left claw marks as big as these had decided to make this place their new home, there likely wouldn’t be anymore gatherings of hungry or plain curious creatures. You slowly trace a finger down a particularly deep, jagged scratch in the trunk. This thing was big. The scratch marks extend up well above your head, nearly halfway up the tree, and now you notice one of the ‘steps’ has been ripped off.

You pause your finger. If something really had decided to set up in here then you probably shouldn’t be leaving your scent all over the place. You withdraw your hand and slowly step out of the invisible gap and back into the unknown of the forest.

At least there was less chance of getting lost now if you wanted to go further in. The tree stood out just subtly enough to be recognisable but undetectable. Should you refresh some of the charms before you go? No, otherwise whatever now lived there probably wouldn’t be able to find it again. But it could use some beefing up of protection after all this time. You couldn’t sense that Viktor had placed any extra spells around here.

Maybe you should come back. Just to check that the tree was still doing its job and keeping whatever was living there safe, if there’s anything living there at all. Purely because of that.

It couldn’t hurt to get a good look at the creature that was there though. In fact it would be better just to check what it was. That way you could work out a way for the tree to be more comfortable for them and maybe make some general improvements while you’re at it now that you have more experience than the average teenager.

You make your way back to the clearing, less cautious about the noise your footsteps make as you get caught up in your own mind. The only thing that temporarily draws you from your thoughts is noticing that Tinker is curled up in her nest and munching on some moss that she found.

That’s not good enough, she needs to eat some meat. You could grab something from dinner tonight and bring it down to the reserve to try your luck with it - maybe some beef or lamb would do her good.

And if you happen to wander back to the tree while Tinker munches on her meal, and you happen to get a good look at the mystery creature that’s inside - if it comes back in the evening, or at all - then Viktor probably wouldn't lecture you about it. What need was there to tell Viktor about it all?

<>

No such luck.

The rest of your day was spent silently considering what charms you should lay down around the tree and whether it was worth putting in an order by owl for a few more blankets and even pillows, all while doing general tasks around the reserve and within the castle. You had found time to walk back down to the lake and collect some fluxweed in a bag and drop it off in Silcos’ classroom, if only to cross it off the list.

You were hoping to scour the dinner table to select something to drop off for Tinker but your plans grind to a halt when you meet Viktor outside the great hall, his fingers drumming on his cane. He must have been waiting for you.

“I have work for you tonight,” he says, walking through the hall alongside you between the tables of rowdy school children. “Is that alright with you?”

“That’s fine,” you lie through gritted teeth. Tinker’s meat feast would have to wait another night, and your curiosity would be gnawing at you all evening and all throughout tomorrow morning. “What do you need me to do?”

“Singed needs help in the greenhouses after dinner. Some fresh accident involving some second years has left a few of his precious plants splattered all over the glass and he won’t allow anybody to use magic to clean it up. I almost volunteered the students in detention but there could be all sorts of horrors in there.”

You hum in agreement. An incident with second years shouldn’t have been anywhere near any particularly dangerous plants but it wouldn’t be surprising if there was something that at least enjoyed eating flesh in there. “Alright. Do you think it will take a long time?”

“A few hours at least. Some plants may need to be repotted.”

That definitely wouldn’t leave time for you to poke around the forest tonight then. You approach the staff table and sit down next to Viktor at the end and begin helping yourself to food. As always the children are noisy, but the teachers table seems more reserved than usual.

Your gaze drifts idly to Silco who talks in a low voice to Singed while his long spindly fingers favour playing with his gold lighter, flipping it on and off, rather than touching his plate. Singed also doesn't acknowledge the food in front of him, preferring to engage with Silco even as he continues to stare down at the table.

There's something odd about the scene that you can't quite place until Silco casually offers the lighter up to the empty chair on the other side of him, then shakes his head and puts it away in the pocket of his waistcoat.

“Where’s Sevika?” you ask Viktor. Jayce and Mel briefly glance at you from the corner of their eyes but say nothing.

“She's not feeling well,” Viktor says simply, offering you a jug of water for your goblet. “She's okay, but she's unable to keep her food down in the evenings sometimes.”

For somebody so physically powerful you find it hard to believe Sevika could have such a weak stomach. You trace your finger around the rim of your goblet thoughtfully.

“I stopped by my tree today,” you mention, picking up your fork and poking your food with it. “The one you gave me an obscene amount of detention over. Have you been checking up on it? It’s in great condition, I mean the charms barely seem to have faded. I think there are more blankets in there too.”

Viktor’s hand freezes in mid-air for a moment, then slowly lowers beneath the table to rest on his cane-top. “Yes,” he eventually affirms. “I go there a few times a year. But the charms aren’t as stable as they look and the forbidden forest has been getting more hostile visitors lately. I wouldn’t check on it too often if I were you, especially during night-time hours.”

“I’m a staff member, not a first year,” you murmur. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself. And I didn’t say anything about going into the forest during the evening, at least not as far as the tree. Maybe just to check on Tinker.”

It’s only when Viktor relaxes a bit that you notice just how tense he’d become. “Good. If possible, I’d like for Tinker to be moved a little closer to the edge of the forest. I don’t like the thought of you - or her - being next door to so many dangerous creatures all the time.”

Clearly Viktor has forgotten who he’s talking to but you overlook his comments, opting to dig into your dinner plate. Jayce nudges Viktor and they start up another quiet conversation while you let your eyes wander.

Lit candles hover high up above the student tables but not a drop of wax threatens to fall onto their heads or food. They bob slowly up and down in the air, matching the light and cheery atmosphere that exudes from the children as they discuss timetables, clubs, upcoming quidditch season, and all sorts of other topics that you wouldn’t be privy to.

You rest against the back of your chair and sip from your goblet, looking up to the ceiling. As always it’s bewitched to reveal the beauty of the evening sky above. Familiar stars and constellations you can’t recall the names of dot the inky black heavens, but your focus is drawn to the glory of the full moon. It stands out well tonight without a cloud to attempt to conceal its picturesque appearance. You hadn’t been paying much attention to the moon cycle like you used to and hadn’t realised it would be a full moon tonight. Maybe it’s because you no longer have to keep track of it for your astronomy homework.

Blinking and shaking your head to bring you back down to earth, you lean forward to look over to Jayce, waiting for a break in his discussion with Viktor. “How’s Caitlyn’s private tutoring going?”

“Well, as always.” That should sound good but Jayce sighs and runs a hand through his hair tiredly. “But Caitlyn’s mother feels that she should be doing more. Cassandra wants me to start tutoring her more often despite everything on mine and Caitlyn’s plates.”

“Oh? What could have brought that on?” Mel asks, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on the back of her intertwined hands.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I thought she was putting more pressure on Caitlyn over the summer break but figured when we went back to Hogwarts she’d be able to breathe a little more. I don’t know why Cassandra is so determined to push her this year.” Jayce shrugs and drums his fingers on his thigh in controlled frustration. “Caitlyn has a lot to think about apart from charms.”

“Speaking of,” you break in, deciding a shift in topic might cool Jayce off a little better, “what’s the deal with Caitlyn and Vi? Vi’s always poking at her in Sevika’s classes. Are they quidditch rivals or something?”

Mel scoffs playfully, her lips quirking upwards in amusement. “Those two have had it out for each other since their first year. They joined their respective quidditch teams at nearly the same time, they’re both in the majority of the same classes, and they both act as though they despise each other.”

“Act?”

Jayce chuckles and leans in closer to you. Since Viktor is sitting between you both, you also lower your head to listen to him. “We think they’re into each other. They’re competitive, they squabble a lot, and they’re always going on about how much they can’t stand the other.”

“You and I have different definitions of being ‘into each other’,” you murmur.

“That’s probably because you’ve no experience with teen romance.” Viktor states it casually, but your eye twitches in response and Jayce cringes at Viktor’s accidental brutally. At least, you hoped it was accidental.

“Well, excuse me for focusing on my school work as a child,” you mutter darkly, crossing your arms and glaring down at your untouched food which is at risk of going cold.

“Nobody assigned you ‘grow a tree in the forbidden forest for potentially deadly animals’ for homework,” Viktor retorts. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing to have had no experience with romance in your teens-”

“Thank you, Viktor,” you say hurriedly, kicking his chair leg and turning away to fork your food into your mouth and hide your burning face. If he was so concerned about your reputation among the staff the least he could do was not gossip about your non-existent dating life as a student. No offence to Viktor but he was no lady killer either.

Mel is kind enough to throw you a bone and steer the conversation back to Vi and Caitlyn. “I think half the reason they aren’t dating, apart from being foolish teenagers, is their different backgrounds. You know all about Caitlyn’s more prestigious family reputation while Vi sadly has no family to speak of apart from Powder and has been raised in a pub for most of her life.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t gossip about the students' home lives as if they aren’t in the same room,” a gravelly voice scolds. The group turns in their seats to see Grayson standing behind you, likely having just emerged from the back door of the hall. “You ought to know better, Medarda.”

“Spare me,” Mel murmurs, taking a sip from her goblet. “Where have you been?”

“Just sending some letters,” Grayson responds, which reminds you that you haven’t even been to see the owlery yet. “I think the place needs cleaning. I found what looked like sap seeping in through some bricks and my spells couldn’t make a dent in it. It must have been there a long time too because it was a strange purple colour, but that could have just been the light.”

Sap? “Oh, I think I saw something like that in a storage room down in the dungeons the other day. It was behind some tins on a high shelf,” you recall.

Jayce straightens up in his seat. “Grayson, tell me where you found the sap. I’ll take care of it, and whatever there is in the dungeons. I, um, found some a few days ago and I think I know how to get rid of it.”

Viktor’s knife scratches on his plate. “I forgot to mention. The older prefect bathroom on the second floor is shut for maintenance. We’ve been getting complaints for a while, so Jayce and I went to investigate and found a lot of old but very persistent jinxes all around the place. Nobody is to go in there until we are able to lift them.”

“Not that we think anybody here is in the habit of going into the prefects’ bathrooms,” Jayce says hastily. Mel shakes her head at him and turns back to her food, causing Jayce to deflate a little. Viktor grabs the jug of water and pours it into his goblet sympathetically.

“I suppose if anybody knows charms, it would be you, Talis,” Grayson assures Jayce. The sincereness of the comment must have taken a lot out of her, so she immediately leaves you all alone to take her seat on the other side of Heimerdinger.

“Best not to gossip about Caitlyn when Grayson’s around,” Viktor mutters to you. “She’s got a soft spot for the girl.”

When Viktor goes back to conversing with Jayce, you look back up to the exposed night sky. It’s been almost a month since you started working at Hogwarts. You’ve been embraced by enough of the staff to chat about student drama with them, and hopefully you’re on your way to earning the respect of another member. It was still early days - maybe you could still salvage something with Sevika. If she apologised.

The moon really was beautiful tonight.

<>

Sevika looked terrible.

She was the last to arrive at breakfast the next day wearing her poncho slightly askew and she barely ate a morsel. Her hair had been tied back as usual but was noticeably looser with a few strands out of place. For most of the meal she kept her head down and hardly spoke a word to Silco. You don’t hear what they talk about, but Silco hands her his lighter and she slips it into her pocket before abruptly leaving to take a very non-discreet smoke.

“Is she hungover or something?” you ask Jayce quietly. You’re not feeling your best either after three gruelling hours of cleaning Singed’s greenhouse, repotting his plants and all the while sidestepping anything that looked like it could be dangerous.

Even worse, your burning curiosity about what was living in your tree had been eating you up the entire time, and when you finally returned to your hut you spent an embarrassing amount of time staring wistfully out of the window towards the forbidden forest, debating whether it was worth putting on a cloak and just going for a peak. You’d decided against it.

Jayce hesitates over your question for a few moments too long. “She’ll be fine,” he says finally as you regard him suspiciously. “But now that you mention it, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had something to drink.” Mel touches Jayce’s shoulder, and he stops talking. It’s too late though - already he’s sown the seeds of your suspicion that Sevika might have a secret drinking problem.

To your dismay, Sevika’s mood has also taken an awful plunge, which she makes immediately clear the moment you step into her classroom before her lesson.

“Absolutely not,” she says harshly the second she lays eyes on you and the silver case you lugged all the way there. Sevika is behind her desk, both hands planted firmly on the surface to emphasise her point and perhaps to support herself. “I’m not using that damn thing today. Save it for next lesson.”

You huff and put the case down at your feet. “I already went to get it. If you don’t think you can handle it, I’m here on standby. What’s the matter with you today anyway? Viktor said something about you having a weak stomach.”

Sevika rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the desk to take her poncho off and drape it over her chair, which is no longer running away from her. “I’m not in the mood for the dementor or to listen to you parroting Viktor like a wide-eyed student. It’s already getting old. Just take the case away and enjoy the free hour.”

Her voice is gruffer than usual. Instead of obeying her wishes, you stride up to her desk and lean against the opposite side to her. “Out of curiosity, did you just get really drunk or something last night? I didn’t know we could keep alcohol at Hogwarts.”

Sevika scoffs and swats your hands off the desk. “I’m not hungover. But we can keep things like wine and beer here, so long as we’re discrete. I just ate something that disagreed with me yesterday.”

“Then just take a potion, I’m sure Silco has plenty.” Come to think of it, it probably wasn’t a hangover - Silco could have provided potions for that too. “Or did you have a bad potion?”

“You,” Sevika starts slowly, leaning over her desk and glaring down at you fiercely, “are too damn nosy for your own good. Take the dementor and piss off out of my classroom. I’ve had enough of you already.”

You scowl right back up at her but you’re distracted from her words by your first clear look at her face today. You can see her dark eyebags in her slightly bloodshot eyes, the stormy grey of her eyes more weathered than you’ve ever seen them. There’s something off about her pupils too, but you can’t put your finger on what it is.

“You do not look good,” you tell her, as if it's news to her. It’s not an insult, and even though Sevika wrinkles her nose at the comment you can tell she hears the concern behind it. “Maybe you should take a day off?"

“I’ll be fine,” she counters, leaning back from you. “But I don’t want to deal with that thing today, I can’t focus on… Keeping it in check. I have back up lesson plans anyway. How's your side?"

"What?"

"When you fell over."

You frown disapprovingly at her deflection. "It's fine. I put the solution back in your drawer."

"Yeah, I saw." Sevika drums her fingers slowly. "I'm sure an extra free hour might do it some good though."

"You should take your own advice." You look at her critically, much like you look at Fief when something has gone missing and she’s trying to convince you she didn’t take it. Sevika doesn’t falter under your stare like Fief does though, holding it patiently until you sigh and turn around, grabbing the case off the stone floor and leaving through the door.

When it swings shut behind you, the line of fourth years waiting for their lesson is revealed. Milo and Vi are at the front of the line but their backs are facing you, listening to something Caitlyn is whispering to them. The moment Caitlyn sees you however she stops talking.

Vi takes notice and glances over her shoulder at you.”Morning, miss,” she says, her eyes fixing on the case. “Are we not having a dementor lesson today?”

“Not today. Don’t give professor Sevika too much grief today,” you add sternly.

“She’s like that a lot,” Vi says dismissively. She must have seen Sevikas' state during breakfast too. “A little teasing won’t kill her, she’s like a tank.”

“She is your teacher and you should show her a little respect, at least for today. She definitely isn't feeling well."

Vi shrugs but Caitlyn skirts around her to address you properly with her hands clasped. “You don’t have to worry about professor Sevika, miss, this happens pretty frequently. It’s not as if she’ll let Vi get away with anything.” Vi glares at the back of her head but says nothing, instead exchanging a look with Milo. If Sevika isn’t the target of their trouble today, you hope they won’t set their sights on Caitlyn for this.

But you sigh and nod your head. “Have a good lesson. Do me a favour and have mercy on Sevika, or she’ll probably make it my problem.” This didn’t sound like what a teacher was supposed to say to students. Technically you weren’t a teacher, but it would probably be worth attending a few courses.

You don’t notice the suspicious expressions on Vi and Milo’s face as you leave them alone and round the corner.

<>

Since Viktor was busy with a lesson and still refused to tell you where he usually kept the damn thing, you left the case with Singed at one of his greenhouses, almost sneering at the one you’d slaved over the night before. Would it really kill him to use magic? He could at least have picked up the soap and sponge himself.

“I’ll take care of it,” Singed assures you, taking the silver case from your hands carefully. Only he could look admiringly at something that housed a dementor. “Did Viktor tell you about the prefect bathroom on the second floor? Keep away from it.”

“He mentioned it last night, you were on the other side of the table.” You glance around the greenhouse, suddenly suspicious. “Are you responsible for the sap?”

“The sna- The sap?” he murmurs, running a hand over the case in consideration. He isn't paying you much attention.

“A weird purple substance. I found some down in the dungeons and Grayson found some in the owlery.”

Singed’s head snaps up and he whirls round to face you. “Already?” he exclaims, his voice raspy and unused to being raised. You gape at him as he storms past you and slams open the greenhouse doors, the silver case swinging from his grasp.

You are frozen in confusion for a moment before scrambling after him, just rounding the doorway when you see him burst into greenhouse four and the door shuts behind him. You go to follow him, but when you reach the door, you hear him lock it. It’s not even possible to see inside - the walls are completely covered by a jungle of thick green vegetation and an occasional pop of colour from the more venomous plants.

“... I’ll take that as a yes,” you murmur to yourself. If Jayce is the only one who knows how to get rid of the sap, it’s likely because he knew Singed was behind it and that it was coming from his plants. As long as it doesn’t kill anybody you’re content to leave the matter alone. There’s no talking sense with Singed when he dramatically runs off to check on his monster flowers.

You leave Singed to whatever he’s doing and head down to your hut, lingering outside to take it in. It’s good to know that it’s all yours, that you have so much space to decorate, to suit you perfectly. When you’d been taking care of dragons on the island you’d shared a dormitory room with three other people, which hadn’t been too bad but it often felt cramped.

In front of the hut in a small overgrown plot that used to be used for growing simple vegetables that has been sorely neglected for who knows how many years, with only one side defended by a worn down wooden fence that’s being held up by the weeds.

It wouldn’t take long to clear up, it simply needed to be cleared up and a new fence built. Admittedly you had been putting it off - the idea of growing your own garden was appealing but your new position was intimidating the idea. This was entirely your space but it still felt as if you would be overstepping your boundaries as a new staff member.

You know it’s silly and that you want to do something with the garden, but for now you’ll leave it alone. Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable doing some work on it in a couple of weeks. Then there was the matter of what you’d like to grow…

Fief is waiting on your bed when you step inside. She lets out an obligatory squeak of acknowledgement but makes no move to greet you properly, far too occupied with a few silver sickles you’d left out for her to play with. There are less coins there than you’d left her with - you’d have to scour the hut later to see where she’d stashed them.

You fill your teapot with water, drop two teabags inside and tap your wand against it to get the water to boil. As the tea steeps you take out a small silver jug filled with milk, then you rummage around in the cupboard for a white mug with orange and purple flowers painted all around the side.

Aside from a small, half-filled sugar bowl you didn’t have anything fancy to add to your tea such as cream, honey, ginger or chocolate sprinkles. Hopefully the next time you went down to Hogsmeade you could pick a few things up.

Fief hops off the bed, one sickle in her bill, and onto your lap as you sit down at the table on the armchair, almost purring as you scratch the spot behind her neck and place your mug onto a coaster. You point your wand over to the fireplace, and the next moment it begins to crackle with gentle flames. It wasn’t a cold morning by any means, however there’s no harm in enjoying a warm relaxing hour - now more like forty minutes - before getting back to work.

Your eyes wander to the window facing the forbidden forest. It stands tall, dark and silent, broadcasting a quiet yet clear message to everyone; stay the hell away. Even so you find yourself thinking once again about Tinker who’s living on the very edge of it, about your tree, about the thing that might be living inside it.

Actually, there was some work you could be doing. You sweep Fief up into your arms and hold her close while you look around for a stray piece of parchment, an ink pot and a quill before settling down with her again. You let her curl up on your thighs as you dip the end of your quill into the ink and begin to jot down a to-do list.

<>

“You wouldn’t mind helping Singed again tonight, would you?”

You look up at Viktor, disgruntled. You’re wearing your cloak to dinner tonight, defending the choice when you walked in by insisting it was colder than everyone else thought it was. “Have his plants blown up again?”

Sitting once more at the dinner table, you noticed right away that Sevika was absent again. Singed also hadn’t shown up for the meal, probably still rambling about purple sap in his greenhouse.

“No, not this time,” Viktor says quickly. “But he wanted some checks done in greenhouse three, something to do with their progress.”

“Well he won’t let me do that by myself, he likes being present.”

“What makes you think he’ll leave you on your own?”

“Because I think he’s still in greenhouse four. He locked himself in after I brought up the purple sap to him this morning.”

Viktor’s left eye twitches slightly and his skin goes a shade paler. “Oh. Perhaps tomorrow night then.” He glances nervously up at the ceiling before clearing his throat. “I suppose you have a free night tonight. Any plans?”

You chuckle. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna catch a boat down to Hogsmeade and get drunk enough to rival whatever Sevika has going on right now. I’m joking,” you add when Viktor raises an eyebrow. “I’m just having a night in, I need to look around my hut anyway. Fief took some sickles and I need to find them.”

“Oh, good.” Viktor sighs and his shoulders sag. “I mean, it would be good for you to relax. You’ve nearly been here a month, you deserve some time to yourself. You’re still happy with the hut?”

“It’s wonderful,” you say sincerely, nodding your head. “Thanks for bringing up the idea, I love it there. I’m looking forward to a quiet night.”

When Viktor’s back is turned you slip a juicy piece of steak into an enlarged napkin and tuck it into the pocket of your cloak.

<>

It pains you to lie to Viktor, but his insistence on you keeping busy or staying in while you were so eager to check on your trees’ mystery guest was going to drive you nuts.

Hours after dinner has finished you light the fireplace again, placing multiple safety charms and keeping a large stack of shiny sickles, knuts, and buttons you’d popped off your own clothes in the corner furthest away from it to keep Fief from getting her tail burned.

“Don’t throw yourself into the fire, and if the place burns down, leave the shiny stuff and go to the castle,” you tell her, wagging your finger to keep her attention. She doesn’t understand a word you're saying, but she’s smart enough to get the message. Hopefully. “Don’t die, I won’t be gone for long.”

After a final check on the protective charms you pull your cloak back on, cover your face with the hood, and slip out the door and make your way to the creature reserve, wand in hand.

Stupid Horse has settled in for the night, cozied up against the rocks of the field. He remains oblivious as you pass him by and continue down the dirt path, stepping more lightly when you near the pixie tree. Pixies are notoriously irritable when they are woken up and you don’t want them to lob anything at your head, especially at this time of night.

The crunch of the leaves is louder than usual as everything so often is in the darkness. You squint down at your feet to make sure you don’t trip over anything and reach an hand out in front of you awkwardly to avoid breaking your nose by walking into a tree. As you venture further into the trees not even the stars above can provide you a comforting light, hidden by leaves. It wouldn’t be wise to cast ‘lumos’ and startle anything that may be lurking nearby.

You find the opening in the trees that leads down to Tinkers’ clearing and your footsteps become even more careful. You flinch whenever a leaf or twig snaps beneath your shoes, the silence of the forest making you feel all the more intrusive with your unwelcome noise.

Tinker is awake. You creep slowly behind the trees, skirting the edge of the clearing where she limps back and forth in the shadows, growing low in her throat, her beak tapping the ground every now and again. Is she so desperate for some fresh food that she’s hunting for worms? Surely fish would be a better meal than that.

You crouch down behind a bush and take the steak from your pocket, unwrapping it from the napkin. Tinker pauses and raises her eagle head, twitching up and down slightly. She can already smell it.

“Come on, sweetheart,” you whisper quietly, moving forward and laying the steak out onto the edge of the clearing. “Come get the lovely steak, just for you.”

Tinker’s eagle eyes latch onto the steak at once. She flexes and stomps her claws impatiently but she keeps herself grounded, prioritising caution over free food. Smart girl. She crouches low, stomach to the ground, and crawls forward across the grass as she growls low, warning anything that could be nearby and waiting to strike not to bother.

You heed her warning and obediently back further away into the thicket, stepping behind another tree but still peering through the branches to see what happened. There was another way for you to get a better look at the scene, but trying it now may startle her.

Tinker nears the steak and pokes it with an experimental claw, then moves closer to sniff it. You wince in frustration when she raises her claw, certain she’s about to throw it like she did with the fish, but then she puts it down again slowly. Despite the distance,you can hear her stomach rumbling uncomfortably.

Desperation wins out. Nothing less than the feeling of pure elation makes your heart jump excitedly when Tinker dips down, pecks the steak, before taking the entire thing into her beak and tossing it up in the air and catching it, chomping down on it ruthlessly. You see the bob in her throat as the delicious steak is shoved down her gullet in a fantastically speedy fashion.

When the steak has vanished, Tinker gives an odd wiggle before opening her beak once more and burping.

“Good girl,” you coo quietly, thrilled for her as she sniffs around the area for more scraps and returns to her nest. “Well done.”

You carry on through the trees silently since Tinker is still on high alert, and all but hold your breath until you’re sure you’re out of her earshot. Over the tree roots, dodging round the rocks… You’re delighted to find your special tree stands out even in the darkness thanks to its different shade of bark. So delighted in fact you almost go straight inside before stopping and inwardly scolding yourself. Of course you can’t barge in, there’s something in there that you might scare the hell out of. Or it could eat you.

Luckily, there was another way to check on your mystery guest. You step back from the tree and look up towards the enormous branching boughs which leaves a very obvious opening up at the top that only extremely good climbers could reach - that, or something that could fly. Even better, someone.

Deep breath in… you shut your eyes and let your body change. You feel the air rush cold against your skin, the drop in your stomach as the ground becomes closer, your arms become more constrained and soft, your legs become stick-thin and your lips lose their softness, the feeling of your cloak falls away somewhere into nowhere…

… And deep breath out. But rather than a breath it comes out more as a tiny squawk.

You have vanished, nowhere to be seen, and in your place is a small, feathery crow with fluffy wings and a sharp little beak. You stretch your little legs and flex your claws in the dirt, giving yourself a trial hop and down. Even after a few months without a single transformation you’re still in excellent shape.

With a new body comes an entirely new perspective. Twigs are now big enough to be severe obstacles and the trees seem as though they’d touch the heavens if the sky hadn’t been replaced by their leaves.

There’s no time to readjust though, you’re on a mission. Well, there probably is time, but you’re horribly impatient. So you stretch out your wings and flap, crouching down and pushing off the ground and into the air.

To your relief you don’t feel awkward or wobbly even after so long without taking off. Instead the movement comes naturally to you like you’ve always been a crow flying through the night. You flap higher up and circle around the tree, letting a soft breeze help to carry you up to the boughs, before settling on a particularly thick one. You tuck your wings in and shuffle closer to the trunk, then peer down inside to finally get a good look at whatever is inside.

Even in the darkness it is visibly huge. Bigger than Tinker, definitely. It is half concealed by shadows and its face isn’t visible, but through squinted beady eyes you can make out short brown hair - fur, surely - slightly ragged, stretched over a large, bulky build. A foot pokes out, oddly bony with gnarled claws.

The creature shifts, muscles rippling beneath its skin, and you catch sight of its head, twisting around and craning up to stare up at you and inadvertently gifting you a good look at its eyes - yellow-ish irises, with pupils stretched unnaturally to resemble that of a snake.

It leans forward lightly, perhaps to sniff in your direction or examine its intruder better, and revealing a snout with a hint of fangs a little too big for its head poking out of its lips. Another breeze finds its way into the trunk, rustling its dark, furless and pointed ears.

It is utterly grotesque. The fur and skin stretching over pure muscle and bone the curved claw of its feet - and on closer inspection what must be its hands which dig into the dirt, attached to unnaturally long arms - the way the animalistic eyes are disturbingly focused, a red tongue darting over a sharp canine like it sees you as its next meal…

You are unable to contain your excitement. You squeal in glee and your animagus form falls away at once, shedding your feathers and giving you the freedom of full legs and arms once more.

“You are lovely!”

Barely remembering to keep your balance on the tree top, you move to sit so your legs swing down into the trunk, just out of reach of the creature - good thing too, because your transformation clearly takes it by surprise. Its eyes widen and it flails suddenly, lashing out with a claw in your direction that swings into the trunk, digging down and leaving a deep mark in the wood, before it snatches its hand back and resorts to snarling. Its lips peel back back to give you a better look at the sharp teeth and to send a message - ‘piss off’.

You smartly lift your legs up to sit in a precarious cross-legged position and rummage around in your cloak, taking out a blank piece of parchment. It would be silly to bring an entire inkpot with you, so you’d brought a regular muggle-pen to write with. They were actually very good, much better than a regular quill. They’d been a birthday present from a muggle-born coworker the other year who hadn’t known what else to get you.

“I have absolutely no clue what you are,” you inform the bewildered creature, “but you look like half the reason everybody keeps telling me to stay out of the forbidden forest.”

Of course there are plenty of other perfectly legitimate reasons that your peers would want to keep your distance from the forest, but this one was so big and so close to the edge that you could make your own assumptions.

From your vantage point you squint again along the sides, taking in the scratch marks that you now know match this creature. They’ve been here a while - the scratches are deep but partially mended thanks to all your old charms and perhaps Viktors’. It’s been here for a while… Maybe a year or more?

The creature growls and tries to withdraw further when you press your pen into the parchment, attempting to withdraw into the inky darkness. You hesitate, taking the pen off again.

“Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything bad, lovely,” you say soothingly, clicking the pen off and putting it down next to you obligingly. The creature shifts uncomfortably. “Just wanted to make some observations. You don’t want me to take notes?”

The creature surprises you by snorting in response and shaking its head, its ears flattened back on its head.

“Shy, aren’t we?” you murmur, reluctantly putting the pen and parchment away again. “And smart, too…”

It huffs angrily before slamming its claw back into the tree. This time the claws sink really deep into the side and leave long, jagged marks as it dramatically drags its hand down. It isn’t really being hostile, just trying to intimidate you into leaving.

“Alright, I’ve got the message.” You sigh and stand up on the bough, somewhat upset at being denied a detailed investigation of what it is but more concerned with its comfort.

A wave of guilt suddenly washes over you - you haven’t scared it too much, have you? What if it didn’t think the tree was safe to come to again?

“Um- Sorry for bothering you, feel free to come back, I won’t, uh, come back. I might,” you tack on awkwardly. “But not to piss you off.”

The creature doesn’t look at you but its ears twitch, listening along to your panicked babbling. It was ironic how concerned you were for creatures and yet you might be the one disturbing them the most. You fiddle with the cloak nervously. It was definitely smart, so maybe it did understand you to some degree.

No, it’s better not to dwell on whatever is already done. You shake your head and shut your eyes, feeling the rush of the air, the subtle shift in your surroundings, and your feathers take the place of your cloak once more.

With only a quick backwards glance you spread your wings and take off. Rather than simply fly back down to the ground and turn back into regular human form, you go higher and catch the wind back through the trees.

You pass through Tinker’s clearing, where she has gone back to circling and stomping on the dirt. Hopefully she is only looking for worms and not expecting another juicy steak to pop out of the ground or else she would be sorely disappointed. Her beak raises sharply when she hears your wings beating but decides not to pay you further attention. Obviously the dirt is more interesting.

Your wings carry you through the reserve field and over Stupid Horses’ head, over the fence, down the path, until you descend and instead of claws, your feet hit the ground in front of your hut. In the short frame of time that you’ve been gone, it has not burned down.

Fief is still in the corner where you left her, rolling around joyously in her pile of tiny shiny items which is definitely smaller than how you left it. You pick her up and hug her close, then rotate her around to check that she hasn’t burnt herself.

“Good girl,” you praise her sweetly when you see that she is free of injury and you plop her back down on the floor. “Now get sniffing, I need to find all the coins you’ve hidden. I’m not made of money.”

Chapter Text

Sevika is still plagued by dark eye bags and she carries herself wearily to her seat at the teachers' table for breakfast, but her appetite has clearly returned. You fail to keep the disbelief out of your expression as she wolfs down a mountain of bacon, eggs, sausages and roasted tomatoes like her life depends on it, but everybody else acts as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

“It’s rude to stare,” Viktor scolds, smacking your arm to stop you from gawking as Sevika devours a stack of pancakes. With difficulty you tear your eyes away.

You haven’t been spared a restful night either. Despite your brief encounter last night, the creature that had taken up residence in your tree had been swirling around your thoughts all evening. Not out of confusion, terror or anything - more a curiosity as to what it was and how you could make adjustments to the tree to make it more comfortable.

The large build of the creature - Merlin, it was getting tiring just thinking of it as ‘the creature’. You tap your fingers and consider a place holder name which would work until you were able to look up what it was, although surely there would be no harm if it stuck.

Fief's name had obviously originated from her serial kleptomania that runs deep in the blood of every niffler. Applying about the same amount of creativity this time around, you consider the garish appearance of the creature, the stretched skin, short brown fur, the long claws…

Claw? Yes, that would do for the moment.

Claw's large build had left them cramped inside the tree judging by the awkward angle of their legs and their inability to move that much beyond their long reaching arms which only served to scratch at the interior of the tree. It was always intended to house you and maybe a few critters at once - certainly not something as huge as Claw. Well, it might have if you were a better student in herbology.

Making the tree bigger could be done but not overnight, and you wouldn’t want to disturb Claw more than you already had. Your mind flashes back to the pile of blankets that had been added to it and you cast a sideways glance towards Viktor.

Creatures didn’t typically know how to sew or purchase blankets. It wouldn’t be that crazy for some other students or teachers to have stumbled across the tree and made their own additions but you’re almost certain Viktor would have checked up on it every now and again.

Somebody must know there is something living in the tree. You scan the breakfast table and then the house tables full of students. Wild, disobedient, and rowdy students with a knack for getting in trouble, you muse as your eyes land on Vi, Milo, Claggor. Ekko is sitting between Milo and Claggor while Powder has left her own table to sit next to Vi. You don’t like the dirty looks her housemates are giving her but Vi’s threatening glares keep them from saying anything.

As much as you’d like to think the best of these kids, the risk of them running into something so big and potentially dangerous wasn’t one you wanted to take. Claw hadn’t seemed inherently hostile to you, merely hoping to intimidate you so that they could be left alone, there was still a high chance that somebody could get hurt when they came across them.

The best you could do until you knew who was sneaking in to put the blankets in was fortify the charms and keep an eye on the tree - one way or another.

You start at the sound of your name and turn to Viktor. “Sorry, did you say something?”

Viktor raises an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?” he presses.

You could just ask Viktor if he knew anything about the tree or Claw, however if he did know something, why wouldn’t he have mentioned it when you first brought up the tree the other day?

“Just thinking ‘bout Tinker. Were you going to tell me something?”

Viktor reaches down and taps the silver case at his feet. The mere presence of the dementor, even if locked up, was enough to put you off your scrambled eggs. “I was telling you I brought the dementor today to save time this morning.”

“I don't think we'll be using it today either.” Sevika looks a bit better than yesterday, sure, but that really isn't saying much. “Shouldn't she have a day off? She looks worse than you.” Viktor does look especially sick today too. Maybe in time you could figure out some pattern to his well being. He still carried himself well, although he was hunched over most of the time.

“Heimerdinger offers, but she always refuses,” Jayce says, forking another piece of bacon onto his plate. “Not to eavesdrop.”

You hum thoughtfully and poke your eggs with your knife. Sevika could simply be too prideful to take some time off to feel better. “Did you get rid of the sap?”

Jayce shifts in his seat. “Some of it. I was able to get rid of the sap in the owlery but I didn't make much progress with what's down in the dungeon. If you find any more I wouldn't touch it.”

“You don't have to tell me twice,” you scoff. “I think Singed is responsible for it.”

Jayce’s eyes widen slightly. “What makes you think that?” he asks. Viktor puts his fork down.

“I mentioned it to Viktor yesterday. I went to hand over the dementor and told him about the sap. He acted surprised and locked himself in one of the more dangerous greenhouses. I think it’s got something to do with some experiment-plant gone wrong. Do you think it’s something else?”

“No, actually, that sounds… Plausible,” Jayce agrees, nodding along. “I’ll talk with Singed about it later, if he’s in the right headspace. I’m sure there’s a good explanation for it being… in… the owlery…”

Jayce trails off as a shadow is cast over you. You twist around and choke on some fried egg when you see Sevika standing above you. Viktor leans over to pat your back helpfully.

Sevika rolls her eyes but patiently waits for you to stop coughing before getting down to business. “You’re bringing the dementor to today’s lesson, alright?”

“Oh… You sure?”

Sevika's eyes narrow, like she isn’t used to being second guessed. “Yeah, I am. I want to talk with you anyway.”

“You do?” you say, alarmed. She doesn’t give you the chance to ask questions, instead walking around the table and down the aisle of house tables until she disappears through the doors of the great hall.

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” Viktor reassures when he sees your face. “Erm, maybe some orange juice would make you feel better?”

It’s a kind but fruitless effort. There’s an awful pit in your stomach throughout the rest of your meal which seems to get deeper when you get up to lug the case up the shifting staircases to Sevika’s classroom. You knock on her door and let yourself in.

Sevika is writing up some notes on the chalkboard, copying carefully from a piece of paper and barely acknowledging you. She could easily just charm the chalk to write up the lesson itself, which makes you wonder if she’s also trying to put the conversation off. Her poncho is off again but it’s not on her chair - it must be in her office.

It doesn’t make much sense to feel so anxious about simply talking to her, but the way she’d said it - and the fact she is Sevika and scary as hell - is putting you off a little.

You also can’t shake the feeling that you’ve done something wrong, as if Sevika’s position as an actual teacher makes you feel like a silly, inexperienced student who has screwed up in some way or another. It’s a disturbingly familiar feeling, and you put the dementor's case down a little harder than necessary on Sevika’s desk.

Best to get it over with. “What did you want to talk about?”

The chalk in Sevika’s hand scratches awfully against the board, making you both wince. “We’ll talk after the lesson,” she replies shortly. She doesn’t even look at you.

The suspense eats at you as the fourth years begin filing into the classroom. Caitlyn sits at the front, setting her textbook, quill and inkpot out and laying her decorated wand on the desk. Vi and Milo sit at the back, and Milo immediately puts his boots up on his desk.

“Boots down, sit up straight,” Sevika barks. She puts the chalk down and stands in front of her desk. “You better have been paying attention. Today we’re having a practical. Let's see which of you actually know what you're doing.”

Vi nudges Milo's boots off the desk and leans forward, her eyes shining. They may not like each other, but Sevika certainly knows how to light a fire under Vi.

Sevika grabs her wand off the desk. “Most of you have a good handle on the patronus charm, to the point of them being able to take on animal forms. Don’t be discouraged if yours hasn’t - while they tend to be a good demonstration of power, as long as you concentrate the spell will work fine.” She points the tip of her wand to Caitlyn. “Kiramman. Tell me how to perform the charm, why we perform it that way, and precautions we should take.”

Caitlyn’s answer is prompt and perfect, sounding oddly rehearsed. “We point our wands at the dementor and focus on our happiest memories to channel positive energy to use against them since they thrive on human despair and emptiness. We should have chocolate close by or some kind of food when performing the spell because it takes up a lot of energy.”

Sevika nods and gestures to the box on her desk. “Everyone who has a go against the dementor gets a chocolate. Both me and Miss will be here to supervise and intervene if necessary. Vi,” she says, pointing the wand to Vi. Vi grins and goes to stand up. “You’re going last.” Vi slumps down in her seat and kicks Milo’s leg when he snorts.

You stand back to the side of the room and check your pocket to make sure your wand is at the ready. Caitlyn is given the opportunity to go first, probably because Sevika wants her to show the rest of the class how it’s done.

“All of you, up and to the back.” Chairs scrape as the students hurry to follow Sevika’s instructions. The majority of them gather right at the back, almost against the door. Vi scoffs when she sees a few kids even touching the door in case they need to make a quick escape and gets as close to the front as she can.

Sevika nods to Caitlyn, who walks in front of the group and raises her wand, her posture poised and steady. Her eyes follow Sevika as she puts a hand on the locks of the case, pausing only for a moment before flipping back the latches and stepping back quickly.

Immediately the room becomes cold once more as the case flips open, far more violently than it has before - perhaps the dementor is getting fed up of being locked up all the time. It rises from its confinement, bony, decayed fingers reaching out from beneath its cloak of shadows, searching for morsels of human happiness to feast on.

Caitlyn holds her wand high and steps closer. The dementor takes notice and slowly advances towards her. Caitlyn trembles as it gets closer, opening her mouth to shout out the charm… and shutting it, gritting her teeth.

“Kiramman?” Sevika calls out loudly despite the awful quiet of the room, like she’s trying to make herself heard over the temperature. Caitlyn shakes her head and takes another hesitant step forward, but still she says nothing. Her wand arm begins to tremble.

“Cait?” Vi is the one who calls this time, her impatient frown morphing into what looks suspiciously like concern. “You got it?”

“I’m fine,” Caitlyn snaps, but she can’t seem to move or take action when the dementors’ hand begins reaching out further, reaching for her. You take your wand out of your pocket and Sevika raises her own wand, both ready to intervene.

Vi hurries up behind Caitlyn and lays a hand on her shoulder. “You got it, Cupcake, you got it,” she mutters, shaking her slightly the way somebody might try to gently wake somebody up.

It does the trick - Caitlyn takes a deep, concentrated breath and waves her wand.

“Expecto Patronum!” she shouts. Blue light in the shape of ribbons erupts from the wand tip, rushing towards the dementor and circling it in its own personal storm. The dementor's hand withdraws as it begins to twist and turn, searching for a way out that it won’t find. The ribbons change as they twirl around it, the light condensing and taking the form of a large bunny, hopping through the air, bouncing in front of the dementor and pushing it back. Then it raises its front paws and pounces.

The dementor lets out a strange wailing sound, an alien scream, as it’s shoved back. It falls back to the case and the bunny jumps again, right on top of it. You can’t help but stare as you witness the weirdest game of whack-a-mole ever, the bunny hopping up and down on the dementor’s head, pushing it lower and lower inside, until Sevika steps back into the scene and slams the case shut. The bunny bounces on the case again for good measure before vanishing into the air.

Caitlyn’s shoulders slump in relief and Vi slaps her on the back encouragingly. Sevika opens the box and tosses two chocolates over to Caitlyn, which she nearly drops her wand catching.

“Well done,” Sevika praises. Despite the drop in temperature you spot a drop of sweat going down her neck that she wipes off. “Who’s next?”

The class divides itself into two groups - one is made up of students thrilled by Caitlyn’s patronus and eager to put on a bigger spectacle than she did, while the other one has students who have been reminded just how terrifying the dementor is and are practically fighting over the last spots in line. Vi pouts at her already determined place at the very end.

Not once do you or Sevika have to take over for any of the students, at most only stepping in to correct posture and give reminders about what to do.

“Shoulders back,” Sevika tells Vi when it’s finally her turn, “you’re not fist fighting the damn thing, you’re using your wand. Don’t stand like you want to throw a punch.”

Vi sighs and mutters something unintelligible under her breath. Sevika’s eye twitches and she leans down to murmur something back. In your opinion it’s a bit weird that Sevika is even allowed to teach when she’s able to have such mutual animosity with the kids. 

Sevika approaches the desk again, her hand hovering for a moment over the case to give Vi another second to mentally prepare. Then she flips the latches.

You let out an involuntary gasp when the dementor flies out. After twenty something times of being released and beaten right back into confinement, it was definitely frustrated. It lets out another disgusting wailing sound and without hesitation dives for Vi.

Vi’s eyes widen and her mouth gapes open, but then she jabs her wand up abruptly when the dementors’ outstretched hand brushes against the tips of her hair. The wand hits something beneath the hood.

“Expecto Patronum!” she yells, and bright blue light explodes from her wand inside the hood. The dementor screeches again, the wailing louder, hurting your ears not with the volume but the foul, otherworldly nature of it. It’s thrown back violently, its back hitting the desk, and the blue light seems to wrap around what could be a neck, dragging it up forcefully into the case.

You wince at the ruthless treatment, your fingers tapping a nearby desk soothingly. It’s a dementor, it’s a monster, it probably deserves it.

Sevika waits until the dementor has been thoroughly stuffed in the case and shuts it, locking it up properly now that it has outlived its use. She sighs and takes another chocolate from the box, throwing it for Vi to catch eagerly. “I think it's had more than enough.” She glances up at a grandfather clock standing off to the side. “Class dismissed. Take the extra five minutes.”

Milo whoops and everyone begins to pack up their things, slinging their bags over their shoulders as fast as they can and dashing to the door. Caitlyn takes her time to put her things away more carefully, and Vi also drags a bit behind Milo after just performing the patronus.

Just as they’re moving to leave, Sevika gestures for you to come to the desk. In the excitement of the lesson you’d nearly forgotten she wanted to talk. You tuck your wand down into your pocket and reluctantly walk up to her.

Sevika leans against the desk and hands you the case, now securely locked if somewhat battered. The door of the classroom starts to swing shut behind Vi.

“So,” Sevika starts casually, maybe seeing the anxiousness all over your face. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

The door slams shut suddenly. You both frown over at it, especially when it slowly creaks open again. There’s a barely visible hand on the doorknob outside.

Sevika scoffs and points her wand at the door, slamming it shut again. You can hear it lock from the other side of the room and somebody complaining about hitting their nose. “Nosy brats.”

You raise your eyebrow up at Sevika. “What did you want?”

“I was just wondering what you were doing tonight,” Sevika reiterates. She takes the last chocolate from the box and wrinkles her nose at it, giving it to you instead. “I hear you’ve been busy, so I wanted to know if you’re available for tonight.”

“Oh, I…” You blink, your mind scrambling to process whatever Sevika is saying. Did she need you for something tonight? Did it have to be tonight? Admittedly you’d been hoping to take another evening trip to the forbidden forest to slip Tinker more steak and check on Claw.

Spending time with Sevika isn’t high on your list of priorities. You still hadn’t forgiven her for her crimes against Fief - which she still had not apologised for - but she was a difficult person to say no to. She could strangle you, blast you into a million pieces, she’d probably cook Fief in a stew if you pissed her off enough.

“Why do you ask?” you say eventually, not committing to an answer.

Sevika crosses her arms over her chest. “There’s something I need to do, but I’m too sick to do it.”

Bull. She’d looked like crap at breakfast, yes, but she’d handled a practical dementor lesson just fine, and her hearty appetite had gone down if her disgust at the chocolates was anything to go by.

“Uh huh…” You say slowly.

Sevika actually snorts at that. “I’m not trying to load my chores off on you. Seriously, I won’t be up for it. Just do me a favour and maybe I’ll get your rat a treat as an apology.”

It wouldn’t really be an apology if you had to work for it, but you brighten up at the prospect. You could do without Fief shivering when you happen to pass Sevika in the hallways and Fief is tucked into your arms or on your shoulder. If you get them to bury the hatchet, maybe you could even make Viktor happy by being on decent terms with Sevika.

Was it worth the bother? You only had one more dementor lesson with Sevika tomorrow. But...

“She’s not a rat,” you insist for good measure, “but sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Good. Down in the dungeons, there’s a room off to the side of the potions classroom - you know the one with the especially bad draft?” You nod. “It’s infested with snakes. No students are allowed near it and Silco’s too busy to deal with them even though he’s basically next door. I want you to go down there after dinner and sort it out, since you’re good with animals.”

She really couldn’t have asked anybody else to do that? “I can go down and sort it out now, I’m free for most of the day any-”

“No,” Sevika interjects sharply, but softens her tone at when you're visibly taken aback, “no, Singed is down there right now. He’s… Doing something with their venom for… his plants. He’ll be down there all day.”

Rats. Depending on how many snakes there were, it could take you all night to clear the room out, and there would be no chance of taking a midnight trip.

“So?” Sevika appeals expectantly. You get the feeling she’s trying not to tap her foot.

You sigh and look up to face her. “Fief likes seeds and berries, especially strawberries. If you want to be really nice, get her something shiny.”

“Duly noted.”

<>

Singed wasn’t here, and neither were the damn snakes.

Immediately disregarding Sevika’s instructions to wait until after dinner, you had returned the dementor to Viktor and gone straight down to the dungeons. If Singed was in the middle of something then of course you’d turn right back around and come back later but there was no sign of him. Not even a stray leaf from his monstrous collection.

No snakes either. You had poked your head around every corner, checking other rooms such as the storeroom and even peeking into Silco’s classroom when he wasn’t looking. Zilch. Had Singed already finished what he was doing and done a clear out job for you? If that was the case then hopefully he wouldn’t mind if you took the credit for it. You could water his plants for him at some point as thanks.

You sit down at the dinner table wearing your cloak again and sneak another big piece of steak into it before Viktor even shows up. When he does arrive, his cane echoing slightly on the stone floor, he looks reproachfully at the cloak.

“Night time excursion?” he asks innocently, taking his place between you and Jayce. Did he know about the last one?

“Nah, just cold in the dungeons. Sevika asked me to go down there to take care of a snake infestation.”

Viktor brightens up immediately and starts helping himself to dinner. “Good. I mean, good that she’s asking you.”

“Mhm.” You run a finger around the rim of your goblet, contemplating whether it’s worth getting his hopes up. “She said she’ll give Fief a treat for it.”

Viktor eats well that evening, checking on your meals and drinks too and silently congratulating you on ‘winning over Sevika’ in his mind. Sevika herself isn’t present again, apparently having yet another early night for being poorly. He doesn’t say anything when you excuse yourself early to sort out the snakes. You put on a real show, grumbling about it quietly as you stand up and all the while you walk through the hall.

The moment you’re out in the corridor you speed up, sneaking out through the now closed doors to the courtyard. The fountain is running as always, and although you’re in a hurry you take a moment to take in the scene. The night sky is gorgeous tonight, stars scattered over the blackness. The full moon is a shepherd among them, overlooking the earth below in the quiet evening. It would start waning tomorrow night, if you remembered correctly.

You don’t linger for long. There’s a shortcut through the courtyard, an opening lacking a door that opens onto a rough path that could be taken straight down to the creature reserve. You pull the cloak tight around yourself to defend against the light breeze, half to keep warm and to keep anything wandering around from smelling the steak.

Down to the field, past the pixie tree, past a snoring Stupid Horse, through the thicket, past the bushes that disguise the trail down to Tinker’s clearing… There she is.

Tinker is on her evening patrol, pacing back and forth slowly. Her back leg still drags behind her a little. You need to find a way to make it better and soon. She was managing okay now, but that was only because she hadn’t been venturing too far.

It was about time to make some progress. You step out slowly into the clearing.

Tinker swivels around and snaps her beak at your presence, but by now she’s getting used to your regular visits. Even if she doesn’t always see you, your scent must linger.

Oh rats, your scent would have been on yesterday's steak. Tinker shakes her head, already catching the smell of delicious cooked meat on you. Would she understand that the last one had been a gift from you or would she just think you were food now?

You take out the steak and nervously toss it on the ground near her. Hippogriffs were smart so she should know the difference between you and a home-cooked meal, but it wouldn’t hurt to play it safe.

Luckily, Tinker just gives the steak a quick sniff, takes it in her beak and takes it back to her nest to chow down. You sigh in relief and continue on your way - the next time you stopped by you would work on developing a relationship with her. Right now, however, your attention is with somebody else.

The forest grows darker as you progress beneath the expansive canopies but it’s bothering you less and less every time you visit. You grin when you find the tree and waste no time. One moment you’re there, the next the air is rushing around you and a crow has taken your place, flapping up to the top of the tree.

Claw is back. She’s uncomfortably situated with her back pressed against the tree and her long arms wrapped around her large yet bony legs, the lengthy claws on her feet leaving nicks in the wood. Her yellowed eyes notice you landing above and she snaps her head around before you’ve even turned back into a human. She remembers you, but judging by her loud snarls and the way she swipes at the bark beneath you, she is not happy to see you.

“Relax, I won’t be here long.” You sit down cross legged as you had the other night and whip out the list Silco gave you. You’ve already crossed off fluxwood. “I’ve got a busy night ahead of me. I was just coming to check on you. Don’t suppose you have any feedback on the tree?”

Claw hooks her claws - ha - up into the bark above her and uses them to haul herself up from her spot on the floor, probably to try and get a better swipe at you. You scoot backwards along the thick bough.

“I already knew it was a little small for you. I can make it bigger if you need…” You flip the list over and get out your pen again, noting something down. “The width is the only real adjustment you seem to need, I can take care of that during the day. Not tomorrow though, I’m busy. I’ve got another damn dementor lesson. I could slot you in for next week.”

Claw hesitates as you ramble on. She lunges experimentally against the side, scratching into it and biting up towards you. Some gap in the leaves above and the brightness of the moon offers you a quick, clear view of her face.

The skin is dark, stretched awfully over a snout. She bares her fangs and narrows her yellowed eyes.

For a moment you fall silent, admiring the gleam of her pointed teeth. The yellow of her eyes isn’t light like sunshine but has a hint of green mixed in. The colour reminds you of newly sprouted sunflowers turning to face the sun though, soaking in its warmth while being rooted in the cold, rich dirt.

Without thinking, you lean forward and reach out a hand to hold her jaw and get a better look. Your fingers barely brush the thin fur before she snaps her teeth at you menacingly, bringing you back to reality, and you take your hand back quickly. “Sorry. You’re pretty.”

Claw shuts her mouth and stares hard at you. It’s hard to tell if she’s trying to unnerve you or simply figure you out. You hold her gaze, blinking slowly but refusing to shy away. The seconds tick by at a snail’s pace.

She gives in first, snorting and pushing herself off the side, sliding down until she’s sitting with her knees up. The way she sits is… Weirdly human. Cute.

“Anyway,” you continue, noting something down and going back to the original list, “Silco’s got a lot of stuff he wants me to get for him. I don’t know if he’s actually expecting me to be able to get all of this, but Viktor wants me to be on good terms with everybody. Also, Silco said he’d forgive the coat thing if I got enough stuff.”

A white cloud blows out of Claw’s snout as she resigns herself to listening to your spiel.

“So yeah, I need to get on his good side. Sevika’s too.” You sigh and tap the pen against the paper. “She’s scary. But she’s kind of giving me a chance to redeem myself after my niffler had a few goes at her - I love Fief, but she gets me in so much trouble, you would not believe it - and I know she said to wait until after dinner, but I wanted to come down and check on Tinker and you to make sure I didn’t scare you off and see if you needed anything. There weren’t even any snakes down in the dungeon, or Singed. Oh, so for context-”

Claw groans and curls one hand into a fist, slamming it into the tree.

“Alright, alright,” you concede, chuckling slightly. “Sorry. I won’t bother you further, I’ve got to go deeper into the reserve for this stuff anyway.”

You get up and hop down off the branch, turning into a crow for a graceful landing before switching back. Flying through the reserve may be more effective and safer, but never once have you been able to explore the whole place freely. Why not take the opportunity?

Not noticing the rustling sound from the tree, you carry on your way deeper into the forest. At first it is difficult to traverse, with tree roots everywhere and trees packed closely together, wild bushes overgrown with thorns and possibly poisonous berries scratching at your cloak.

Worse, being on the cusp of autumn, leaves are falling quickly and totally covering the floor, making it difficult to spot stray twigs and keep the crunch of your shoes discreet. But you refuse to be discouraged, waving your wand to part the wild vegetation and trying to walk on your tiptoes, an admirable effort you quickly abandon.

You squeeze through two tree trunks and pop out on the other side into another clearing, bigger than Tinker’s. You take a tentative step forward into the free space before a movement in front of you makes you freeze in place. But your hesitation is quickly replaced with excitement.

“Is this where you stay?” you whisper as the thestral slips out from the shadows. It doesn’t appear startled to see you and even sniffs your hand when you extend it - to some degree it’s clearly used to people. You ought to know better than to push your luck but you can’t help it. You move your hand a little closer, resting it on the thestrals’ skeletal snout and stroking it gently. “Oh, you pretty thing…”

The thestral accepts your strokes, mostly out of confusion at first, before leaning in when it finds itself enjoying the feeling. You rub its snout and let your hand travel up to its head, scratching behind its pointed leathery ears, and chuckle when it gives a satisfied snort.

You take your hand back and watch as it wanders back into the trees, maybe returning to its herd. Do thestrals have herds? You really ought to stop by the library at some point to answer all these questions.

On the other side of the clearing is another break in the trees, another route deeper into the forest. Knowing things will only get more dangerous from here you shrug your shoulders and march towards it - then something grabs the back of your cloak and pulls you back.

You cry out in alarm as you’re flung down onto the ground, hitting your back hard. Groaning, you roll over to see what grabbed you and shrink back as Claw towers over you, fangs bared once again.

Out in the open she is even more menacing, able to stand at her full height but instead hunched with the purpose of looming over you. In the overpowering darkness, Claws’ yellowed eyes practically glow like a guiding light - or a warning sign. The hand that grabbed you has scraps of fabric in its grip. Sure enough, you pat behind you and find an awful tear in the back of the cloak.

Is she bulkier? Inside the tree you’d gotten an inkling of her impressive build but it didn’t compare to seeing her like this. So enamoured are you with taking her in that only when she advances on you do you remember that this is a wild creature that could easily rip you to pieces.

You scramble back quickly when Claw hunches down further, one of her big bony hands stretching out for you.

“Rats, rats, don’t kill me, don’t kill me,” you mutter repeatedly, tempted to scream if not for the risk of attracting something possibly more dangerous. She stalks closer and her claws hook into the hood of your cloak. You squeak and reach for your wand in the sleeve, expecting her to pick you up and take a bite out of you but…

… Instead she walks past you, claws still in your hood, and begins to drag you away from the clearing and back the way you came. She snorts quietly, her ears twitching, and she makes strange noises in her throat. It reminds you of how you mutter under your breath when you’re thinking, or when you’re annoyed.

“Are you dragging me back to the tree?!” you exclaim in disbelief, looking up at her as you struggle not to get grass stains on yourself. No, that can’t be right - she certainly hadn’t been pleased when you’d shown back up. Had she suddenly decided you’d make a good late night snack? Had she understood you when you’d said you intended to go deeper into the forest?

Realising you should probably be trying harder to achieve basic self-preservation, you wrench yourself away from Claw, cursing when your hood is severed from the tattered remains of your cloak. No ‘repairo’ is going to save it now.

Claw releases a frustrated growl and drops the ruined hood onto the ground, rounding on you again. You find your wand in your sleeve and point it to her. She stops in her tracks, glaring fiercely at you.

“Smart enough to know a wand can be a threat,” you murmur loud enough for her to hear, “and smart enough to know what I’m saying. Are you smart enough to answer questions?” Claw doesn’t respond, her eyes flicking between you and your wand. “Do you want to eat me?” Claw huffs, as if scoffing, and shakes her head.

You lower your wand a little but don’t put it away. It would be ridiculous to trust her right off the bat but honestly it felt like she just didn’t think you were good enough to eat. You glance over your shoulder to the break in the trees, and go back a few paces towards it.

It doesn’t escape Claw's notice. She growls but stays put when you raise your wand again. Obviously she doesn’t want you going further into the forest.

“Aw, aren’t you sweet?” you coo, suddenly endeared. “You don’t want me going into the dangerous woods?” Claw’s feet shift beneath her and her glowering worsens. “Seriously?”

Why she’d be concerned about your safety is completely beyond you, considering she’s seen you all of twice and both times has been only annoyed by you. The only thing that comes to mind is her associating your scent with the tree, but even then…

You dig around in your pocket for Silco's list and hold it up for Claw to see, as if she would be able to read it. “Listen, I have to get my hands on unicorn blood for Silco if I want to save myself five sickles. Plus, I need to get a good lay of the land, I haven’t explored this place in years. So I’m going in. You, um, stay.”

Claw's long, skeletal fingers flex thoughtfully as you turn around and continue boldly on through the trees, leaving her and the unfortunate realisation that you were risking your life for five sickles and a slightly improved reputation among peers behind.

You tug what is left of your cloak around your shoulders, shivering slightly as the cold night air seeps through the gaps. There was a chance you wouldn’t be able to withstand the regular elements of a regular autumn evening, let alone the unique climates of the other habitats.

As you traverse over more stray rocks and roots you scold yourself for not taking the regular path. You know where it is but the journey down it to each individual habitat is so long you figured you could finish your search much more quickly by going straight through the forbidden forest. And there was more chance of finding a unicorn in here.

No, you were here for the unicorn. Silco’s list, at least for now, ought to be a priority above checking the place out. You kick a stray stone spitefully when another bust of wind slips through your cloak and into your bones. You aren’t upset with Claw, even if she’d ruined your clothes. It was quite sweet how she seemed to want to keep you out of trouble.

Have you been here before? You spin around in a circle slowly, taking in your surroundings. It’s more of the same, more trees, more leaves, more general foliage. You push through another thorny berry bush and freeze in place when you notice the cave to the right.

The rocks edges are shrouded with out of place vines, but the gaping blackness stands out even now. You squint, wondering if it’s the same one. Wondering if the same foul beings are nesting inside it…

Something moved. Something long and furry.
You turn on your heel and stride in the opposite direction, your heart jumping in your chest unpleasantly. Forwards is the best way to go, but you’d rather not take your chances with those things hanging around.

Instead you forge on in this new direction, speeding up slightly every time you hear a rustling behind you. Probably just rodents. The cold is getting worse for some reason. You passed the turn off the lake ages ago - you’d been here enough times to know at least that much - but thanks to your change of route it was going to be harder to pinpoint where you were heading.

What was the habitat after the lake again? You furrow your brows in concentration as you swing yourself over a fallen tree that you need to remember - it’ll be good to find your way back. Next habitat would be… Oh, must be the Rocky Mountains. The habitats didn’t have official names that you knew of, but your own nicknames for them were fine.

You grit your teeth as the air gets even colder, and you make note of a group of large wild mushrooms. Trees are becoming intriguing sparse. You glance upwards to find that you’ve escaped the forest canopy, revealing the starry night sky and the full moon to you again. That would certainly help with directions. The snowy tip of the mountain is visible, barely poking out over the treetops.

The view gives you a helpful burst of energy that you use to hop over another downed tree trunk and rush forward, barely looking around for any possible danger in favour of focusing on the destination.

You slip through more tightly packed bushes and pass a few more trees, before emerging on the other side of the forest. You shiver almost violently in your boots at the rush of cold air the greenery had been shielding you from and take in the great mountain above.

It’s incredible to know that the view ahead is almost entirely man-made. Well, magic-made. This habitat is entirely composed up the side of the mountain, twisting around and inside it to be convenient stops or homes to any creature that would find comfort in a colder, higher environment.

Merlin, it's freezing around here, but you suppose that’s on you for coming in the middle of the night. It’s too cold to go up the mountain side, and trying to light up the place with your wand may not be in your best interest. You sigh and stretch your arms up tiredly. There definitely would not be any unicorns up there, and since you couldn’t climb up in these conditions it was probably time to turn around and go back to the warmth of your hut while you could still remember the way-

You almost trip over yourself when a little blue lizard slithers over a small rock. From here you can see it’s lighter underbelly, the brighter hues flecked over dark blue scales on its back. It stops when it sees you, tilting its head left and right curiously. A white forked tongue flickers briefly from its mouth.

To keep yourself from squealing you step on your own foot, then clap your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from yelping out, which is probably what you should have done first. The lizard blinks at your antics but doesn’t make a move to leave.

You hunch down and creep closer, taking your sweet time to avoid scaring it off. You crouch down in front of the rock it's perched on, admiring its lovely scales.

There is no doubt that this is a frost salamander. You pick a berry from a nearby bush and hold it up above the salamander, watching intently as it opens up its mouth to jump up to grab it in its mouth, giving you a good view of the white tongue and the back of its throat. Its lack of hesitation to a complete stranger giving it food, as well as its especially tiny size, tells you that it’s young. There must be more of them up there.

“You’re a cute little thing, aren’t you?” you murmur affectionately. You gently touch the side of the salamanders’ belly and withdraw it quickly - cold as an ice cube. Another shiver runs down your back and you get to your feet, walking around the rock and closer to the boulders marking territory of the habitat. “Makes me wonder what else is up here…”

A loud growl rumbles behind you followed by the sound of bark being scraped off a tree. So that’s what all the rustling was about.

“Did you follow me?” you demand, looking over to the trees. There is silence for a few moments before Claw slinks out of the forest, no longer on her hind legs and travelling on all fours, trying to keep a low profile. Even lower to the ground, her impressive physique mixed with what should be a sickly appearance was unnerving. “You don’t want me going further?” Claw’s head tilts left and right, then she pauses and corrects herself to shake it instead. “Wish my pets were as concerned about me as you are.”

The salamander starts when Claw shows herself, lowering itself down on the rock and spinning her tail round and round. You spot the warning signs and when it opens its mouth, you take its head in your fingers and point it away from Claw. A blast of cold air shoots from its jaws and hits a tree behind Claw, covering it with frost.

Claw backs away from the tree and snarls at the salamander. You quickly scoop it up into your hands and hold it to your chest. “You startled it. It didn’t mean any harm.” The salamander squeals when you tap it on the head - this one will need a name too. “Your name is Flu now,” you inform the salamander. ‘Flu’ gives a slow, oblivious blink. You swear you see Claw roll her eyes.

You pop Flu back down onto the rock and wander onwards, past the path that leads up to the mountain. As ready as you were just a moment ago to turn back, Flu had ignited something dangerous for you - curiosity.

“It’s too cold to explore up the mountain tonight,” you murmur to yourself, “but I know where I am now. So the next habitat will be the Scorched Vale.” Another low growl escapes Claw as you begin to wander further on. “If you’re so worried then you can come with me. I don’t mind the company.”

For a while you walk on alone, going around the base of the mountain until you find the direct route off towards the Scorched Vale, a much warmer and rather dry environment. You hadn’t spent much time there, believing it to be fairly dull in comparison to everything else the reserve had to offer. Just when the more biting cold of the Rocky Mountains begins to fade you hear the sound of padded footsteps and quiet groaning catching up to you - Claw has decided to tag along after all.

Rubbing it in might make her change her mind so you appreciate her companionship silently for the remainder of the journey. When the temperature goes from cold to cool you slip off your ragged cloak and tie it around your waist instead.

The forest is a little ways behind you now, the terrain replaced by a rocky but otherwise flat terrain, and Claw is getting increasingly anxious. She doesn't try and force you back again but the way she swipes angrily at stray stones and the constant stream of disgruntled noises makes her stance crystal clear.

The Scorched Vale comes upon you suddenly as if it popped into existence once it heard you were coming. ‘Upon’ isn't the right word - it's below you. The path down to the habitat is steep and following it will lead to two main locations; the cave, sure to be a treasure trove of adorable creatures, and the abandoned mineshaft.

Before you can even set foot on the path Claw bounds up in front of you. You stumble backwards at her resistance, blinking up at her as she glowers down at you disapprovingly. Her closeness allows you to briefly feel the heat radiating off of her, pleasantly warm after the last destination.

“Oh for Merlins’ sake, it's fine. I've got my wand ready if there's anything dangerous,” you tell her, nearing on a scold. When she doesn't let up you try negotiating. “I won't go further than the cave entrance. Then it's a quick getaway if there is something in there. I won't even go up to the mineshaft.”

The flash of Claw’s yellow eyes implies that she doesn't believe you, and she bares her teeth menacingly.

“You can drag me back if you think I'm getting too close. But don't rip my shirt.” Unperturbed by her terrifying display, you duck beneath her arm and head down the path, unrelenting. You dodge around another attempt to make a grab for you. “You don’t want me running off, do you?”

Claw grumbles but gets back onto all fours, reluctantly following you from a short distance with her head bowed and her ears back. Satisfied that she won’t interfere you carry on, passing a few dead trees that, despite the suns’ efforts as it so often liked to shine on this area, had been unable to thrive thanks to all the dirt being devoid of any nutrients.

“Last time I was here there were fire crabs everywhere.” Despite Claw's distaste for your ramblings, if she wants to come with you, she’d have to listen to them. “Have you ever seen a fire crab? They’re born the same size as normal crabs - did you know muggles catch crabs and then just release them back into the water? I think they do the same with fish sometimes - anyway, they can grow to be about seven to eleven times a regular crabs’ size, but these ones in particular had their shells covered in crystals…”

Eventually Claw’s huffing and puffing wears off as she realises it’s not going to get you to shut up, but she makes a point of walking even further behind you. As fascinated as you were by her, if she was going to act like such a helicopter parent then maybe some distance would be good - at least until you were finished exploring.

The mouth of the cave is three times your size with smoothed boulders standing guard outside it. Unlike the one in the forbidden forest that you’d turned tail from, this one was not pitch black inside. Small glowing crystals coloured red, orange and pink stick out of the ground, mostly along the sides, but shards of their remains litter the middle route. Whatever lives here is big enough to clear its own way, or maybe it just makes the journey back and forth a lot. You dig up what little prior knowledge you have of this habitat and recall that the cave likely runs deep underground, possibly overlapping with the mineshaft a little ways away.

“I’m not going far,” you call to Claw in case she thinks you intend on going too deep. You step over pieces of shattered crystal, admiring how they climb the walls and grow across the ceiling of the cave.

Nothing moves or scuttles out of place as you press on but still you avoid stepping near the larger crystals in case you step on a fire crab. They’d likely be much deeper in the cave-

“Oh, no!” You frown at an absolutely enormous boulder that blocks the rest of the way off. How long has this been here? Definitely not when you were still a student, you’d have thrown an awful fit. “How did this even happen?”

No wonder there were no fire crabs in here, they were probably stuck in there. You curse and pull out your wand, pointing it to the boulder and chanting under your breath. It shakes slightly, then a little more. The third movement makes an echoing sound from the other side and bits of dust fall from the ceiling. Crap.

Regretfully, you put your wand away. This is a mission for another time.

You emerge from the cave, dejected, and glance around for your companion but see no sign of her. Maybe she’d grown bored of keeping an eye on you.

The abandoned mineshaft in the distance draws your attention. From here it looks like a few rotten wooden pillars, a beaten down shack and some stray tracks for the minecarts that used to trundle back and forth with riches or simple coal pillaged from down below. The tracks would lead down to other caves, down tunnels and passages. Somewhere, there may be a connecting passage to the fire crab cave.

You twist your head left and right, scanning the area to double check Claw was really gone. When you’re sure the coast is clear you start trekking toward the mineshaft.

Stepping over the rusted iron rails and determined roots that must have dug their way from hell to reach the desolate surface, the outline of the mines really begin to take shape. There’s only so much to see above ground, but you’re not interested in the fallen over carts, the rotting plants and pillars, nor the shack up ahead where accounting and reporting would have taken place. You’re looking for an entrance into the underground.

The tracks of course would lead straight to it, so you follow one particular set that trails in a similar direction to the cave. It breaks off every now and then, forcing you to search for where it picks back up, but finally you come upon what must have been an official entrance.

It’s merely a hole in a stone wall now, with wooden support beams that are one bad rainy day from toppling over. Once again the inside is dark without the assistance of glowing crystals, and any torches or lanterns inside likely burned out years ago… Actually, there was something. Climbing up the walls, you could make out faintly glowing vines of some sort. You reach for your wand, hoping to light the place up a bit and get a better look.

Without warning you are literally swept off your feet. You scream in surprise, almost dropping your wand, when Claw hooks an arm around your middle and hoists you over her shoulder so you’re facing her back.

“COME ON!” you shout, twisting around and kicking your legs to no avail. “I didn’t even go that far!”

Claw lets out a frustrated snort as she ignores your flailing and carries you back the way you came, deciding that you’ve had more than your fair share of exploration today. You wholly disagree.

“I just wanted to check to see if the tunnels led down to the fire crab cave, it’s all blocked off! You can come down too, I just want a quick look?” you bargain, tapping your wand on her back in the hopes it will annoy her into letting you go. You’d kick your legs harder but you don’t want to risk hurting her - or provoking her into biting your foot off.

With how impatient she was, honestly you should be grateful she wasn’t dragging you across the ground. She carries you back past the crab cave and all the way back to the outskirts of the forest, but pausing when the temperature drops now that the Rocky Mountains are getting closer and mercifully puts you down.

And by ‘puts you down’, she leans over and lets you drop onto the ground while she stays up on her hind legs as a kind reminder of how easily she could tear you apart, careful not to let her claws rip your clothes. How considerate, you think bitterly.

You pick yourself up off the grass and brush yourself off, glaring up at Claw. Your hand clenches around your wand before relaxing as you realise that even if you did manage to distract her enough to get away for a second attempt, she’d grow tired of you and may not come around anymore, and put your wand back into your pocket.

Satisfied that you aren’t going to make a run for it, Claw gets back down on all fours. She doesn’t make a move for a few moments, staring you down with narrowed eyes that make you uncomfortable, as if she’s weighing you up. Then she slowly moves up beside you, nudging you forwards, keeping close as she herds you back through the forest. Even without touching, the heat radiating off of her draws you in wonderfully.

Careful not to touch her, both of you continue the journey back. Looking up at the stars above you’re surprised by how much progress the moon has made across the sky. It hasn’t felt like you’ve been out for more than a few hours - no wonder Claw is getting so cranky.

Taking advantage of the quiet walk, you take the opportunity to consider what exactly Claw is again. The growling, claws, snout, ears, and the short fur gives you the unmistakable impression of a wolf. The badgering, hovering, protective attitude gave you the impression of a dog, which was only countered by how Claw absolutely refused to let you scratch behind her ears. Perhaps it was worth going out to buy some treats for her from Hogsmeade.

It was the nearly human intelligence that was putting you off. There were next to no creatures, as far as you know, who are as smart as Claw is. She understands you perfectly and can communicate very effectively. It’s not strange to find something with some level of communication skills, especially for creatures that travel in packs. Is Claw part of a pack? Are there more of her species roaming around the forest or the other habitats?

On top of all that, she was oddly protective of you, watching you as you stride confidently into dangerous territory and trying to literally drag you back home. Did she go around the habitats regularly enough to know which were risky? She certainly didn’t want you anywhere near the mineshafts and that place looked as if it was going to collapse at any moment.

Your stream of thoughts is interrupted when the cold air picks up again. Claw grumbles again when you brush up against her for warmth but doesn’t pull away this time.

To your delight, Flu is still sitting on his rock. You and Claw almost duck for cover when her tail starts wagging, but luckily it doesn’t start spinning.

“Aw, you're waiting for us sweet thing?” You break away from Claw and crouch down to run your finger over Flu’s back again. She trembles beneath your touch and her long forked tongue pokes out pleasantly. Claw nudges you again, encouraging you to get a move on. “I’m going, I’m going,” you sigh, turning your back on Flu.

Claw seems to be in a rush as she ushers you onwards back to the forbidden forest. It could be because she’s nocturnal and is nervous about the sun coming up; you haven’t missed the way she keeps glancing up at the sky.

You keep close to your wolfy companion as you cross the threshold into the forest, the dense ceiling of leaves once more blocking out the heavens, but the cold isn’t fading like you had expected it too. The allure of returning to your hut and setting the fireplace ablaze is becoming irresistible.

The darkness over taking the environment in theory shouldn’t be an issue for Claw as she starts sniffing at the trees and the air, and you suspect she has far better vision in the dark than you do. However your assumption that she goes beyond or even that far into the forbidden forest often is clearly wrong as she slows down, kicking at the ground in annoyance.

As if it will be any help, you squint up at the thick trees and reach out to feel their trunks in case any are familiar. “We’re not lost, are we?” Claw doesn’t respond, but her silence speaks volumes. “Look for some wild mushrooms, and after that a fallen tree trunk.”

Amazingly, Claw finds the mushrooms quite quickly. You pass the cluster, glad to get back into familiar territory… Is this familiar? They were the same mushrooms, you’re pretty sure, but maybe this wasn’t the way to go from there…

Holding out hope for that tree trunk you don’t point out the uneasy pit in your stomach, not unlike the one Sevika had unintentionally given you earlier. Merlin, that felt like ages ago, but it had only been that morning.

You break through a gap in the trees and stumble across a clearing. It’s not like Tinkers’ - this one has torn up grass that litters the ground unbecomingly and the trees are taller with chunks of bark missing. You’re about to turn around when you spot movement within the thicket on the other side.

The smart thing would be to just go back and leave it alone. The you thing would be to decide your curiosity still has not been satiated for the evening and go and see what that is.

Claw groans loudly when you leave her again to investigate. You don’t bother defending your actions this time, peering behind a particularly thick tree trunk to get a peek.

The movement is low to ground, repeating a motion of going left and right in smooth, fluid motions, like a tail. It was a tail… Long in repeated rounded shapes… Was that a scorpion tail?

No, that couldn’t be right. Scorpion tails aren’t nearly that long. The pit in your stomach gets deeper when a paw pokes out beside the tail covered in yellowed fur.

You jump when Claw growls loudly at you, having not noticed her come up behind you. You put your hand over her snout quickly, shushing her desperately and motioning to go backwards when you hear a loud growl. It isn’t coming from Claw.

There is barely time to push Claw back when suddenly the tail flicks and goes straight for you. The sting of the scorpion tail just misses your cheek, making your breath hitch in terror and your legs shaky. The shock doesn’t last long and you kick into gear, shoving Claw back more roughly this time. “Move, MOVE!”

Claw, recognising the panic in your tone, wraps a big bony hand around your arm and wrenches you along as she runs back through the clearing. You make the mistake of looking back to see the trees forcefully parted by two enormous lions’ claws, and a manticore of all things emerges.

Being dragged through an almost pitch black thicket while being chased is far from the most ideal situation to examine a creature but you’ll take what you can get, even if you are currently fearing for your life. The manticore has the face of a man, surrounded by a wild mane and completely out of place on the body of a lion, and contorted into a permanently furious expression. An unnatural roar erupts from the manticore’s throat as its paws thunder along the ground in desperate chase. You hope it’s not trying to eat you, it would almost feel like cannibalism.

You grunt when Claw takes a sharp turn as she spots the mushroom and heads in a different direction, sniffing the air hungrily to try and catch a familiar scent as she barrages on through the foliage.

“TREE!” you shout as you spot the fallen tree trunk up ahead. Claw makes a beeline for it, almost knocking you against the trunk as she races over it. You gasp as she kicks it back, trying to distract or even get a hit on the manticore. Unfortunately it jumps over the rolling trunk and continues its relentless pace, getting awfully close.

You squirm in Claw’s arm, ignoring her warning snaps to you as you try and grab your wand from your pocket. Claw must have taken another wrong turn along the way - the trees fall away once more and Claw is forced to halt in a seriously inconvenient wall of enormous rocks, arranged in a semi-circle.

Hearing the manticores’ approach, you slip out of Claws’ grasp and take out your wand, pointing it in your pursuers’ direction. “Prote- What the hell?!”

Your wand is covered completely in a sheet of ice, freezing to the touch and about as useless as your average icicle. Upon feeling something scrambling in your pocket still, you reach in and hold out your unknown passenger.

Flu had apparently decided to hitch a ride with you - no wonder you had still been so cold after leaving his habitat. You hold him upside down by his tail in bewilderment, then cradle him quickly to your chest when the manticore bursts out of the thicket and into the circle.

Without hesitation it lunges for you, another deafening roar exploding from his jaws. You crouch down, flinching away and holding Flu tight, but it never makes an impact.

You hesitantly look up, gaping to see Claw standing over you, her and the manticore struggling to grapple against each other. Both up on their hind legs, the manticore is certainly bulkier but Claw is taller, snapping her razor sharp teeth ferociously down at her enemy while he bellows right back up at her.

For a terrible you are bewitched by the battle between beasts as they try to scratch and bite one another. Only the cold of Flu pressing against your neck snaps you out of it.

No time to spare. You drop your wand and grab Flu, straightening up and darting to Claws’ side. You hold Flu up with one hand so he’s facing the manticore’s belly and use your free hand to grasp her tail.

“Open up!” you order the lizard, before spinning his tail like a propellor.

The effect is immediate. Flu’s mouth splits open and frost spouts from him like a mini geyser towards the manticore, covering him totally. You don’t let up, forcing Flu’s frost over it to evolve into pure ice. The manticore slows its assault against Claw, who takes the chance to tackle him in the stomach onto his back.

His claws and tail thrash wildly and you're forced to play the worst ever game of jump rope as you dodge the poison sting to keep Flu spitting out ice. Claw grabs the tail and pins it down to the ground, bearing her claws and slashing the stinger clean off.

Adrenaline overshadows your sense of time, but eventually Flu runs out of steam and he stops releasing great bursts of frost. Little flakes drop from her mouth as she pants from the effort and you cease your spinning, holding her close to you again before remembering that the last thing she would need is warmth.

The manticore is now nothing but a glorified ice-statue, its eyeballs shifting slightly inside its strange prison but otherwise he has been rendered completely immobile. Claw gives it a spite-filled shove, silently cursing it for adding to her exhausting night.

You find your wand and put Flu down next to it, letting her soak up some of the cold to recover, before turning your attention to Claw. She pants tiredly as she glares down at the manticore but stands tall as she looks back at the forest, looking up to the canopies above to try and gleam a look at the sky to no avail. She sighs when she sees you coming and tries turning away but you step in front of her and grab one of her hands.

“Don’t fuss,” you chide her when she loudly objects, turning her hands over to check for any damage. She held herself very well against the manticore.

A manticore you both could have avoided if you’d turned around the first time Claw chased after you. If you’d gotten lost by yourself without her…

“Thank you,” you murmur quietly, dropping her hands and your eyes guiltily. “Sorry.”

There’s an awkward silence between you both. Finally Claw gives a soft grunt and nods towards the forest.

Feeling the least you can do to get back to the tree before Claw’s self appointed bedtime, you wander back to Flu and take back your frozen wand. “I can’t take you back to your habitat tonight. Do you want to come with me or are you okay to get home on your own?

Flu chitters quietly and circles around a few times, testing her strength, before scampering over one of the rocks and off into the night. You tap your wand against your leg and frown. It’s going to be useless until you thaw it out.

Leaving the manticore to slowly melt, you and Claw venture back into the forest. This time you’re more careful with navigation, ignoring every rustling of leaves and bushes - finally, your curiosity was satisfied. It could just be your eyes adjusting but the woods didn’t seem as dark now.

Eventually the tree comes into view, and you can feel your bed all the way out here calling your name. Claw huffs a sigh of relief as she leans up against the side. You’re about to bid her goodnight when both of you notice a gap in the leaves above. It seems the moon has only just gone down to make way for the sun.

You don’t get a chance to bemoan how you have to supervise Sevika's dementor lesson in only a few hours without a wink of sleep. Claw gives a startled bark and dives down, hand shooting into the pile of leaves that is always bunched up around the trunk and pulling out a bag. She scratches all around the sides, looking for the entrance before disappearing inside.

Not in the mood for another round of risking your safety but concerned about Claws’ well-being, you stand outside with your hand resting tentatively against the tree, wincing at the sound of pained groaning. They go on for a while, escalating into wolfy cries that make your hand itch for your wand, wondering if you ought to go in and try casting ‘episkey’ but knowing it won’t work at the moment.

As the shadows become less dense the cries die down, resulting back to the occasional grunt of discomfort, then followed by silence.

“You okay?” you call hesitantly as the quiet drags a bit too long. When you get no response, you round the tree, just to peer in and make sure she’s fine.

Instead, you come face to face with Sevika.

She looks absolutely terrible. Her eyebags are worse than ever. She’s leaning against the tree tiredly, her hair isn’t tied up, and while she is dressed her clothes were obviously thrown on in a hurry. The bag Claw had pulled out of the leaves is slung over her shoulder and her poncho has been thrown over her arm.

Something weird is going on with her eyes again. As you peer up into them, you see their colour slowly changing from garish yellow to her usual grey. Her pupils shift strangely before settling into the usual dot for a pupil.

“You,” she begins, her voice low and croaky as she glares at you, “are the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met.”

You glance to the bag, then to her ragged appearance, then to the tree trunk, and finally to the leaves above. The moon has gone down.

“... Oh.”

The growling, the intelligence, the bony yet bulky appearance, the fact you’d only seen her at night on full moons…

“...Ohhh.”

“You need to go clean up those fuckin’ snakes,” she mutters, pushing herself reluctantly off the tree trunk.

“I did- Well, when I went down there earlier-”

“Singed put snakes down in the dungeons during dinner so you’d have something to clear up. I wanted to keep you busy so you wouldn’t pay me another night time visit. But obviously that didn’t work,” she hisses as gape up at her. “Go sort them out, now. I need to recover from babysitting you all night.”

Of course the scariest woman at Hogwarts and possibly the whole damn world was a werewolf.

Chapter Text

Considering your line of work and intense passion for creatures, so much so that it was usually the first thing people knew about you apart from your name, it was frankly embarrassing that you of all people hadn’t caught on to Sevika being a werewolf sooner.

Both of you are visibly weary from your night out. Sevika is obviously tired from spending all evening keeping you from an early demise and you can imagine transforming into something so - no offence to Sevika - grotesque and back involuntarily is pretty draining. You’re also feeling sluggish after running around in the forbidden forest high on adrenaline and then being sent off to tackle a nest of snakes that had been put there just for you.

Even so, you’ve got a job to do. You take the silver case from Viktor after breakfast, dismissing his questions about your awful state and trail behind Sevika in silence up the shifting staircase to her classroom. It’s not a particularly tense silence, it’s just that neither of you can think of anything to say.

The students shuffle in a few minutes after you do. You’re hopelessly distracted from the lesson, too tired and jumbled to follow along properly while Sevika, to her credit, pulls herself together to hand out a small end-of-topic test for the students to take and snaps whenever she spots somebody dozing off.

You stay near the back of the classroom to one side, pretending to pay close attention to what they’re doing by sweeping your eyes over them as they work in near silence. It’s a better option than staring down at the floor or at Sevika.

In hindsight, Sevika being a werewolf explained a lot. You shoot a glance towards Caitlyn’s desk, noting her silver-adorned wand set out neatly beside her stationary. Retracting your steps throughout the month, your mind is cast back to when you accompanied Sevika and Mel to Hogsmeade train station where you half believed you’d imagined Sevika growling.

Oh for goodness sake, was this why Viktor and Singed thought you two would get along?

It hasn’t escaped your notice that Sevika has refused to look at you even once throughout the lesson - or Vi’s.

Vi waves her hand to grab your attention, pointing toward her parchment in a silent plea for help. The moment you walk over and lean over her desk to see what she’s stuck on, it’s revealed to be a farce.

“Long night, Miss?” Milo whispers slyly, earning a giggle from Vi.

“... Yes?” you say slowly. Vi and Milo exchange wide-eyed grins. “Focus on your test, Milo. Did you need anything, Vi?”

“Just wanted to check in with you Miss,” Vi insists in a manner you suppose is trying to come across as innocent. “You’re okay to walk, right?”

You squint down at Vi like it will help you understand what she’s on about. “I can walk fine. Worry about me outside of your school work.”

You leave Vi and Milo alone as they devolve into giggles, deciding you’re not nearly equipped enough to make them take their tests seriously. Sevika glowers at them from across the room, but shrugs off their laughter - she’ll likely make them pay for it in detention or house points.

The rest of the lesson passes quietly, allowing you time to stew in your own thoughts and compile a long, long list of questions that you doubt you will ever be able to ask Sevika.

“Time’s up,” Sevika says eventually. She waves her wand and the papers fly off the student’s table, gathering into a pile on her desk. “We can go through them for the first half of our next class. You’re dismissed.”

Caitlyn surprises you by being the first to put all her things away and rather than going for the door, she instead comes up to you. Her face is strangely flushed and she keeps glancing over her shoulder towards Sevika.

“Erm… I wanted to apologise about yesterday,” she says awkwardly. Caitlyn isn’t exactly a shy girl but it’s clear how hard she tries to project confidence.

“Oh, that’s okay,” you say quickly. “... What happened yesterday?”

Caitlyn’s face burns bright red behind a curtain of dark blue hair. “I didn’t mean to overhear- Sorry, Vi and Milo were also listening- I’m sure you noticed-”

“Kiramann.” You and Caitlyn startle as Sevika calls over to you. “If you don’t mind, I have something to discuss with Miss. What is wrong with you two today?” Sevika huffs, turning her attention back to Vi and Milo when they both burst into a fit of laughter.

Once all of the students have filed out of the classroom and let the door shut - properly this time - you tentatively leave your spot at the back to walk up to the front.

Sevika rests a hand on the side of her desk and rubs her eyes tiredly with her free one. It’s difficult to imagine her as the same big, bony, furry creature that crammed itself into the limited space of your tree or ripped apart your cloak in its attempts to drag you back to safety.

Then her gray eyes snap open and glower down at you menacingly. They aren’t sunflower yellow anymore, but the look of pure exasperation is unmistakable.

“Are there any more non-existent chores for me to do, or have you run out of secrets to keep from me?” you mutter bitterly. You’re too tired for intimidation.

Sevika’s nose flares but she doesn’t bite back. “I’ll admit, that probably wasn’t the best way to go about things. It’s not something I like to bring up - werewolves don’t have a great reputation.”

No, they don’t. You drum your fingers idly on the desk surface, quietly considering your frustration at being lied to and understanding of Sevika’s reluctance to share such a crucial and dangerous part of herself.

There are maybe a hundred questions you want to ask her; when was she bitten? Had she been a werewolf since she’d attended Hogwarts? Did all the staff know she was a werewolf, and were they involved in hiding it? Were parents made aware that a werewolf was acting as a teacher? Would it be weird to ask if you could scratch her behind the ears when she was transformed?

“Are there any particular reasons you wanted to keep this under wraps from me?” You settle on what you can only hope is a more tame question.

“Here’s one of them,” Sevika grumbles, grabbing the silver case off the floor that had gone ignored throughout the lesson and giving it to you.

You frown but take the case, trying to figure out how the dementor would be a factor in all this. At least today would be the last time you had to lug it around now that Sevika had finished the topic.

Something clicks in your mind. “You and Viktor had your licence revoked for dementors recently, didn’t you?”

“Dementors and a shit ton of other things, yes,” Sevika sighs. “I fought like hell to keep a hold of my duelling licence, but I’m on thin ice.”

“What- Because you’re a werewolf?!”

Sevika shoots a glance to the classroom door. “Louder next time, I’m not sure the manticore hiding out in the forest heard you.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “But what’s that got to do with you not being able to handle dementors and other stuff?”

“Nothing. But the ministry decided that it was a good enough reason to take them from me last year. Same thing happened to Viktor.”

Viktor not being trusted with dangerous creatures despite his years of experience wasn’t an outlandish concept to you whenever you saw his weakened state, however Sevika seemed more than capable of handling herself. You hadn’t known her very long but her skills demonstrated through the dementor lessons were undeniable, and Heimerdinger trusted her enough to ask her to run the duelling club. You lean against the front of the desk.

“I don’t know much about werewolves,” you confess, bowing your head ashamedly, “so I don’t really see the correlation.”

“You’re not the only one.” Sevika regards you quietly, looking you over thoughtfully. “Actually, with how much VIktor and Singed talked you up and when you were chatting with me in the forest, I half thought you’d figured it out before last night. This sort of thing sounds like it’s up your alley.”

“Then why did you make up something for me to do to keep me distracted?”

“I didn’t want your company, and I didn’t want you poking your nose into my business. Which reminds me…” Sevika pushes herself off the side and moves over to you. You don’t get a chance to ask what she’s doing before her hands slam back down either side of you, trapping you between her and the desk and looming over you. “We need to set some ground rules.”

You shrink back from her as much as the limited space allows and stare back up at her like a startled rabbit. Maybe you’re awake enough to be intimidated after all. “Er, rules?” you stutter, clutching the silver case tighter. Despite the cold shiver that runs down your spine, warmth radiates off Sevika not unlike how it did last night. Must be a werewolf thing.

Sevika’s eyes narrow as she puts her face closer to yours in a show of intimidation. It reminds you a little of how Tinker flexes her claws and raises her wings to scare off potential predators. “The teachers are the only ones in this school who know about me being a werewolf, and that is how it is going to stay. If you breathe a word about it outside of the staff, I will rip your throat out to keep you quiet and eat you alive for breakfast.”

“Oh,” you murmur weakly. “ Please don’t do that.”

“Then don’t go blabbing.” Sevika backs off slightly. “Second rule, at Viktor’s recommendation, you can’t ask me questions about being a werewolf.”

“What?!” Your mouth drops open, intimidation forgotten. What a traitor! “But- I just had a few- How could I not ask questions?!”

“I haven’t known you very long, but I’m not surprised you’re more upset about the second thing,” Sevika sighs.

“Do you mean I can’t ask questions about being a werewolf, or I can’t ask stuff surrounding it? Can I ask about how you’re getting wolfsbane potions?”

She looks almost impressed at your stubborn determination to find some loophole from which to gleam precious scraps of information. “Singed grows most of the ingredients in greenhouse five, Silco brews them for me. What is it?” she demands tiredly as you shift nervously from one foot to the other.

“Like I said, I don’t know much about werewolves. Um, I never paid enough attention in my own Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons,” you admit. “And I’ve never actually met any before…”

There’s a prolonged silence following the unspoken plea. You look up hopefully into Sevika’s eyes despite the danger of still being sandwiched between her and the desk. She meets your hopeful gaze with her own exhaustion and annoyance, and finally relents.

“You get two questions, and if I don’t want to answer them, I won’t.”

You light up inside and out, temporarily shedding the effects of a sleepless night. “When you transform back into a person, does your fur just disappear or do you need to shed it really quickly?”

“... Depends. If I’m stressed out and trying to get back to normal as quickly as possible, I’ll shed it all in one go. Otherwise it just needs some time to disappear.”

So her emotional state could affect the manner in which she transformed. Did this mean there was a difference in her manner of transformation if she didn’t take her potion, since without it her mind would likely revert to that of a wild animal? It also implied she wasn’t completely at the mercy of her transformations and could hurry them along if she needed to. Did this mean the shedding was a choice or a side effect?

You put a hand to your chin and overlook Sevika critically, subconsciously moving closer as if to inspect her. Sevika backs away in response, taking one hand off the desk behind you and frowning.

“I don’t have all day,” she reminds you gruffly.

You hesitate. “Do you like being scratched behind the ears?”

“Do you like having your head attached to your body?”

“Duly noted.”

Sevika scoffs and gives you some space, moving back behind her desk. “Viktor never mentioned you being an animagus. Neither has Heimerdinger.”

Your shoulders tense. “Yeah, about that… I’m booked to go through the ministry process for approval in six months.”

“You aren’t approved yet?” Sevika raises an eyebrow as she reaches for her poncho lying over the back of her chair. “Does that mean you taught yourself? Actually, that’s not too surprising,” she mutters. She’s figuring you out pretty quickly.

“I taught myself,” you say simply, glancing to one side to avoid Sevika’s gaze. If she notices she doesn’t say anything.

“No wonder you can barely shift.”

Your head whips around at her murmured criticism. “What? I can shift just fine.” Who was she to judge when she’d seen you transform only a couple of times?

“If you’re so good at it, you’d have saved me the trouble of saving you from that monster in the forest-”

“Manticore.”

“Whatever.”

“Well that’s your fault.” You hold up a hand to keep Sevika from biting back. “Shifting when you’re an animagus is different than a… different from when you do it. Your transformations are inevitable, they’ll happen no matter what you’re doing. I actually have to focus to transform and keep it up. Maybe I’d have been able to get away if there wasn’t a wild manticore on my ass, or if you hadn’t picked me up. It’s hard to concentrate.”

Sevika shrugs. “I wouldn’t say that’s my fault. Like you said, having a manticore on you probably makes it hard to think. It’s a good thing I got you before that thing did.”

“I guess so. I’ve got more time to practice transformations now, so I won’t need you to step in. Um, I do need you to… Keep the animagus thing to yourself. Just for now.”

“Mmm,” she hums dryly, giving no indication as to whether that’s an agreement or not.

You tap the case to remind yourself it's there and start heading to the doors at the back to go and return the dementor to Viktor. When you reach them, you hesitate, then offer a quiet “Thank you” that you’re not sure she even hears - the next second, you’re out the door.

For a moment Sevika’s hand lingers on her poncho before she shrugs it on. “Of all things,” she mutters, pushing her chair in, “a crow.”

<>

You were so zonked out during breakfast you’d forgotten to snag anything for Tinker, so after dropping off the silver case you make the trip down to the school kitchens to check for any leftover bacon.

To your delight, there wasn’t a house elf in sight - years ago, just before you’d left Hogwarts to go out and work in the real world, you’d tricked Heimerdinger into sitting through a forty-five minute presentation as to why house-elves should not be working jobs and that the school should forgo the cheap labour in favour of manual magic charms on all the cleaning and cooking equipment like so many witches and wizards did at home.

Whether or not it was the presentation that changed Heimerdinger’s mind you couldn’t say. No matter though - you move out of the way of a broom sweeping up some stray crumbs and watch as plates and cutlery jump into a sink loaded with hot soapy water to be scrubbed clean by a flying green scour.

A tray loaded up with cold bacon and sausages floats leisurely towards a large bin in the corner of the room. You snag it quickly from the air, apologising profusely as you wrap a healthy portion of meat up in a kitchen roll.

“It’s important!” you snap, hurriedly scraping the meat into a bowl as the tray wiggles indignantly and the broom abandons its task to shoo you away, knocking against your shoes.

Viktor is teaching a lesson on caring for porlocks, short goat-like creatures that stood on their hind hooves with long ginger fur that needs constant attention. One is being shown off to the class of second-years - it’s noticeably shy, shaking slightly and trying to hide by shuffling behind Viktor, who in turn shuffles off to the side, only for the process to keep repeating.

You feel bad for the porlock, but you appreciate the distraction as nobody calls out to say hello or ask where you’re going as you head straight down the worn path of the field leading down to the forest.

Tinker doesn’t look surprised to see you emerge into her clearing and continues her eternal patrol back and forth. It makes you wonder when on earth she sleeps - she’d been awake both times you had visited her so late at night. A faint breeze carries the smell of bacon and sausages through the air and Tinker stops in her tracks to turn to you.

Rushing a relationship with such a traumatised creature wasn’t your intention but your concern over her health and meals has rendered you reluctantly impatient.

“I’ve got you some bacon, sweetheart,” you say softly, holding out the bowl for her to see and making a big show of putting it down and stepping back from it.

Tinker’s eyes narrow and her beak clicks. By now she is able to recognise your scent and she certainly knows the smell of meat. It was just a matter of reassuring her that you weren’t a threat.

She must know you weren’t poisoning her or wishing her ill after you’d dropped off those steaks and she’d eaten them up without issues. These might not smell the same as steaks though, and Tinker may not be as desperate to eat this time around.

But her wings stay closed and her claws don’t flex in preparation to pounce if needed. At the very least she knows she isn’t in danger.

Oh. If Sevika passes by the clearing every month and knows about Tinker, would Tinker be able to discern her scent too? Your nose wrinkles in thought. Does Sevika smell the same as a human as she does when she’s a werewolf? As a werewolf, maybe without the potions, would Sevika also be drawn to the smell of meat? No that didn’t sound right - you should research this yourself but there’s so little reliable information about werewolves that often gets mixed up with muggle stories.

Was it true that werewolves could smell blood better? Obviously they should have an enhanced sense of smell, but did that only apply when Sevika was transformed? What if Sevika could smell Tinker on you or vice versa? Did this mean Sevika might be able to tell the difference between wizards and muggles from scent alone? That would imply magic is a tangible thing within blood though so probably not-

Something pecks at your shoe and you are pulled from your contemplations to find the bowl empty and Tinker has gotten close enough to begin checking if you have more food for her.

It takes everything in your power to keep still and resist reaching out to stroke a hand over her feathers while her beak inspects the material of your shoe curiously.

With her head lowered you are given a good view of her back. It’s in better condition than the rest of her with the majority of it still covered in grey and brown feathers, although the back of her neck has a thin but notable ring devoid of cover around it. Poor thing; her hunters must have been able to get something around her neck. Luckily it probably wasn’t there for very long.

Tinker shakes her head and backs away when she realises you have no more to offer her, and turns to limp back to her nest. You cringe at her bad leg but you soothe yourself with the knowledge that in only one month, Tinker trusts you enough to get close. Maybe in a couple of weeks she’d even let you bandage her up and cast some healing charms on her.

Actually, she trusts you enough to eat the food you give her - it would be worth going down to Silco and asking if he could put some potions together that are hippogriff friendly. But it was a pretty specific request, and Viktor had asked you to keep Tinker’s existence in strict confidence for the time being. Even Heimerdinger seemed totally unaware of Tinker - as far as you knew, she was between you, Viktor, Sevika and Jayce. Sevika might be able to ask for something considering how well she got on with Silco.

As Tinker settles down in her nest to digest, your eyes drift from her towards the trees on the other side of the clearing. You are forever asking questions only to be starved for answers - some investigation might satiate you at least for the morning.

Grabbing the now empty bowl and leaving Tinker alone, you step back into the thicket and confidently make your way further into the woods to find your tree - or was it Sevika’s tree now? She is certainly getting more use out of it now than you are. Somehow you don’t think she’ll be amused if you suggest sharing custody of it.

When you find it you brush your hand over its darkened bark, searching for the hidden entrance, and duck down to creep inside.

Sevika certainly knows how to make herself cozy. The soft, earthy blankets laid out over the floor are slightly torn from her sharp claws accidentally catching in them. You run a hand over a particularly patched up one. As you’d noticed during your last visit, the tears weren’t huge and could easily be fixed up with ‘repairo’, so it was strange to see the off-colour threads holding the blankets together. So then, is Sevika the one who is sewing them up? Why not use magic?

There are a lot of blankets here. You crouch down and carefully peel them away from the side of the tree, running your fingers through the fabric. The ones at the top are softer and less patchy, likely newer than the rest, and despite being used to cushion Sevika’s uncomfortably cramped position and their obvious wear, they smell okay - like cinnamon and old cigarettes. Sure enough, you find a crack in the bottom of the trunk where a half-empty pack of cigarettes has been shoved inside.

You pull back the final layer of blankets and start when you see the purple sap. Apparently not confined to the castle, a small buildup of it has gathered against the side. It must have somehow gotten into the roots too because cracks of purple were all across the bottom of the tree, branching off in every direction.

How could it have possibly spread this far? Your hand hovers over the thin purple substance, remembering Sevika’s warning against touching anything you didn’t know about back in the supply room.

Maybe a jar… Maybe a bowl? You reach behind you for the bowl that had held Tinker’s breakfast and point your wand to the substance, muttering quietly to move it without touching it.

Nothing happens. You blink and try a different incantation. The substance doesn’t budge.

“What the hell…” You murmur, and poke it with your wand. It does move this time, but you snatch your wand back as it glows slightly. Good thing you hadn’t touched it.

You pocket your wand and put the blankets back- if Sevika knew about the sap it was possible she’d brought the blankets not for comfort but to cover up the sap. You could bring it up with her over dinner and ask Jayce to take care of it.

<>

The staff table is woefully empty tonight. Singed is apparently holed up in the greenhouses, Silco is down in the dungeons working on something or other, Grayson is preparing for detentions and who knows where Viktor is.

Heimerdinger, to make up the numbers, has brought down Eos in his cage for company. It’s obvious you’re the only one who is pleased by this.

“What a pretty bird!” you coo lovingly, pushing blueberries through the golden bars. Eos, who is lying flat as a pancake on the floor of his cage, makes a half-hearted attempt to open his beak and catch them. The blueberry rolls straight into his eye. “Oh, sorry honey.”

“That bird needs to be put down,” Sevika insists, grimacing at the pathetic display in front of her. “It’s putting me off my dinner. How do you even feed it? Can it swallow?”

“Some phoenixes evolved to photosynthesize because of their weakened states,” you offer, rolling another blueberry towards Eos. This time it lodges itself in his beak but he doesn’t bite down into it - he doesn’t have the strength.

“I’m afraid Eos isn’t quite there yet,” Heimerdinger sighs, opening the cage to take the blueberries out. “I have to spoon feed him porridge every morning, but it’s difficult when his neck is so fragile.”

“Professor, I know you’re the expert here,” Jayce begins, eyeing Eos like a fresh doctor during his first day at the psychiatric unit, “but maybe it would be better to just-”

“He’ll be fine,” you interrupt. “This happens to phoenixes, it’s normal. He’ll be beautiful soon, you watch.”

“Perhaps in future Eos ought to be kept in your office, Heimerdinger,” Mel suggests delicately, putting a hand on Jayce’s shoulder before he can say anything else.

With the absences, Heimerdinger had insisted everybody sit a little closer together. Mel and Jayce sat on Heimerdinger’s left, while you and Sevika were on the right. Jayce kept glancing between you both, expecting the worst.

You’d been pretty civil with Sevika this evening. Neither of you huffed or puffed when Heimerdinger had you sit next to each other, you weren’t throwing dirty looks in the other’s direction, and Sevika had even poured water into your cup.

“Don’t touch it, it looks like it’ll give you a disease,” she warns as you poke Eos gently.

“That’s the opposite of what phoenixes do, they’ve got healing tears. There aren't many phoenixes around anymore, especially not in their prime, so getting bottled phoenix tears is extremely expensive,” you ramble without prompting. “But Eos looks like he’ll be reborn next year. I’ve never seen a rebirth before.”

Sevika drums her fingers slowly on the table, not out of impatience. “I’ll bet you know all about them anyway.”

“I’ve read about them a lot. They become so frail and begin to heat up - you know how the human body heats up to fight off diseases but we also can’t withstand those temperatures? It’s a bit like that - anyway, they get so hot that they crumble into ashes which are set alight, then the ashes will recover themselves into the form of the phoenix…”

Heimerdinger nods along as you get lost in your spiel while Mel and Jayce talk to distract themselves from Eos. Sevika, instead of rolling her eyes or commenting, leans back in her seat and drinks quietly. She doesn’t look at you, preferring to keep her eyes on her plate, but the occasional twitch of her mouth makes it look suspiciously like she’s actually listening.

When you pause to breathe Heimerdinger seizes the opportunity to switch topics. “Have you finished using the dementor for lessons? Admittedly I’ve been nervous about using them after the ministry’s restrictions.”

“I told you, there’s nothing to worry about as long as somebody with a license is present to supervise,” Sevika says. “But yeah, today was the last lesson. I’m marking their tests tonight. I may need it again near the end of the year for their revision. I don’t suppose you’ll still be around then?”

It takes you a moment to realise the question is directed at you. “I think so. I should at least be here for all of this year, but I’ll probably have to go when Sky is found.”

Sevika shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Heimerdinger sighs and shakes his head.

“I truly am devastated about Miss Young. I am hopeful that she is safe and sound, but she’s so smart and resourceful that I find it hard to believe she wouldn’t have found a way to get home or communicate her whereabouts. And it’s so uncharacteristic of her to simply take off without a word. I can only wonder…”

He trails off and frowns in contemplation. Eos croaks pathetically.

Sevika taps your glass to grab your attention away from Heimerdinger. “Care of Magical Creatures classes usually don’t extend all the way to the creatures past the lake habitat of the reserve,” she murmurs quietly, prompting you to lean in a bit to hear her better. “But it’s not as rare as we’d like it to be for students to sneak out and go exploring. If that happens too much, I want them to know how to defend themselves if they come across something like that manticore from before.”

“You’re setting up a duelling club, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but it’s not going to do much if they don’t have their wands. Yours was frozen, remember? If it weren’t for me and that lizard, you probably wouldn’t have come out of that unscathed,” she says sternly. You feel strangely like you’re being scolded. “Maybe having some more information about the more dangerous creatures will do them some good.”

You cock your head slightly and Sevika continues. “I know you may not be officially licensed to teach actual lessons, but since I don’t need you for dementor supervision now and Viktor probably only wants you around for taking care of the reserve, it might be worth talking to Heimerdinger about starting up your own club. You’re clearly knowledgeable enough and Viktor tells me you have an obscenely long list of qualifications for handling creatures,” she presses on as your face heats up and you look down at the table nervously. “What is it?”

“I’m not a good teacher,” you laugh awkwardly, more out of anxiety than humour. “Right before I came here I was in charge of training my replacement.”

“It can’t have been that bad.”

“I worked with dragons, remember?”

“Oh.” Sevika’s brow creases. “So… What happened with that?”

You squirm in your seat and pick up your fork to stab your potatoes.

“Uh huh. Well we don’t have anything as dangerous as dragons around here if that helps, and one of us can supervise if you need support and we’re free. It would be a waste not to make use of you while you’re here.”

“When are you starting the duelling club?” A change in topic is needed - you don’t want to agree or disagree with Sevika's suggestion right away.

“Not sure yet. I need to make sure I’m still qualified-” she spits the word spitefully and her hand tightens on her goblet, “but I’d say after Halloween. There’s a room for it down in the dungeons.”

“Can I come and see it? I mean, see the club when it’s up and running? If I run my own I’d kind of like to see what I’m supposed to do.”

“That’s fine. You don’t want to act like I do though. I’m nobody’s favorite teacher for a reason.”

“I bet you are. I liked my scary teachers when I was a student.”

“Scariest thing about your teachers was probably wondering if the next gust of wind would knock Viktor down for good.”

You snort and try to cover it with a cough while Sevika raises her goblet to her lips to hide a smirk. You realise you’re still quite close to her and lean away. Jayce peers around Heimerdinger curiously. Sevika downs the rest of her drink and puts the goblet down.

“I never got to see you handle the dementor yourself,” she mentions, half reaching for the jug to refill her goblet before changing her mind. She leans back suddenly when you lean in, your eyes sparkling with questions - a look she’s becoming unfortunately familiar with. “Yeah?”

“I’ve never seen somebody use a patronus the way you do,” you say, propping your elbow up on the table and resting your chin in your palm. “I know they don’t necessarily have to take shape, but it was quite powerful even without it. And since you’re the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor I figured it would be fully formed.”

Sevika puts her hand around her goblet but doesn’t make a move to refill it. She’s got large hands that take up the whole base of it. “Mine can take shape, I just choose not to. No, I won’t tell you why.”

You pout. “I’m always left with more questions whenever I talk to you. Oh, do you sew?”

“What? Where’d you get that from?”

“Because in the…” You stop yourself, glancing warily to the student tables. “Nevermind. Should ask about it some other time.”

Catching your cautiousness, Sevika releases the goblet and stands up, pushing her chair back. “I wanted to talk with you more about supervising for other lessons anyway. If you’re going to ask questions instead of eating then we can go up to my office.”

“Oh. Now?”

You scramble out of your seat to follow Sevika out of the hall, paying no attention to Jayce, Mel and Heimerdinger's bewildered stares or the strange way Milo frantically shakes Vi and Claggor to point in your direction. For some reason Vi covers Powder’s ears when Milo starts whispering.

In contrast to this morning, the walk up the staircase to Sevika’s staircase is much more relaxed. Sevika occasionally nods or hums as you babble on about Eos and phoenixes and “did you know the longest recorded rebirth cycle was eight hundred years?” or “most hippogriffs give birth normally but there’s a specific breed that lays eggs - I think it’s because some have stronger eagle characteristics than horse ones” and so on.

The door to her classroom closes easily behind you, and instead of lingering in there she leads you up the short staircase that goes directly to her office.

The room itself is small but cozy. There’s a huge window on the side that looks out over the training grounds where Grayson teaches flying lessons, with two large dusty red curtains, a similar shade to Sevika’s poncho, on either side of it. In front of the window is another desk and two chairs, one on either side of said desk, all bigger than the ones she has in the classroom. On the other side of the room are two tall cabinets, and there are candle holders mounted on the walls. There are no paintings here.

Sevika tosses her poncho on the back of the chair behind the desk - a surprisingly consistent habit - and goes straight to one of the cabinets. “Will alcohol make you talk less or more?”

“It’s a Thursday,” you point out, making yourself comfortable in the chair in front of her desk. “Do you want me to shut up?”

“I don’t care. It’s like white noise after a while.” Sevika opens the cupboard and takes out a bottle, looking over it critically, then grabs two goblets from the top shelf and takes them back to the desk. She sets the cups and bottle down before taking her place opposite you. “What was that about me sewing?”

You’re distracted by the smell of the room - cigarettes, cinnamon, and what must be cedarwood. It’s nice, like an autumn afternoon.

“Hm? Oh, right - I went into the reserve earlier to check on Tinker…”

“Tinker?”

“The…” you falter. “You go in there a lot, so I’m assuming you know about the… thing…”

“The… Hippogriff? With the bad leg?” Sevika offers, and you nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, I pass it whenever I need to go in there. It only just stopped hissing at me. Scared the shit out of me when it first turned up.”

You giggle and reach for a goblet. Sevika uncorks the bottle and pours you out a little.”Yeah, that’s Tinker. She’s lovely really, but it’s taking me a while to get her to come around. She came up to sniff me this morning but that’s about it, and she was only after food.”

“That’s not bad after a month. How is she relevant?”

“Relevant to- Oh! Yeah, so I went to see her and while I was there I was thinking about how you probably knew about her, and then I decided to go check on the tree.”

Sevika is just tilting the bottle to pour herself something but pauses. “‘Check on the tree?’ Did you think there was something wrong with it?”

“Um.. Is it okay for you?”

“What?” Sevika frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean- I’m the one who grew the tree back when I was a student. It was meant to be for me to sneak out and hoard little creatures.”

There’s a moment of silence before Sevika shakes her head and pours out her drink after all. “Of course you were. You’re everywhere. I bet that’s why Viktor was on my ass so much about not damaging it.”

You smile and take a sip. Hmm. It’s bitter, but not overwhelmingly so. “That’s nice of him.”

“Nice? My back is always shot from trying to curl up and not scratch the bark. I thought it was to do with the tree having something bad in the bark, not his sentimentality. No disrespect, but I’m stretching my claws out next time.”

“That’s fine, it’s not like I’m using it. Actually…” You circle your finger around your goblet hesitantly. “Did you want me to change it? I didn’t grow it with a very wide base because I didn’t think I’d have any really big creatures in there. Or I could grow another tree - I took the seeds from Singed last time…

You trail off awkwardly as Sevika scowls at you and puts the bottle down with a sharp shink. She notices your break and clears her throat. “I’m not… Okay. I wouldn’t mind a bigger tree, I suppose. I just need somewhere that isn’t in the castle.”

“Do you want a different tree?”

“No, that one’s fine.” Sevika hesitates. “It’s all fine, actually. I don’t need it bigger after all.”

You peer at her inquisitively, the stream of thoughts running through your head likely visible in your expression. She does want it bigger, but doesn’t want you to change it. Maybe she doesn’t want you poking around with it? Most creatures are territorial - that could be the case here. In that case it would be better not to tell her about how you’d gone inside and poked around her blankets-

“Did you go inside and look at my blankets? Is that why you were asking about sewing?”

Ah, Merlin.

“I did,” you admit shyly, holding your goblet closer. “I, um, wanted to make sure it was alright for you. You’ve kept it in really good condition actually.”

Sevika doesn’t take the compliment and merely taps her foot beneath the desk.

“But yeah, I saw all the blankets. I was just wondering why they were sewn up? You could just use ‘repairo’.”

“That’s none of your business,” she says stiffly.

“Um, sorry.” It wasn’t a very personal question, but Sevika was probably getting fed up with all of them. “You should talk to Jayce though.”

“Jayce? Why?”

“Because of all the sap. There’s a build up of it under the blankets but Jayce is the only one who has been able to get rid of it. There was some in the dungeons and apparently the owlery. It glows when you touch it.”

“Is there anywhere you haven’t stuck your- you TOUCHED IT?!”

Both your and Sevika’s chairs scrape loudly against the floor as she abruptly stands up to yell at you, slamming her hands down on the desk, while you hurriedly back your own chair up in surprise. “No- No, I just poked it with my wand!”

“Oh, even better! For fuck sake- Go and see Jayce about it tomorrow, he’ll need to check it. And don’t go looking around my tree, or my blankets!”

Confusion, to your detriment, causes you to voice your inner thoughts. “I didn’t realise you’d be so territorial.”

You’ve got a knack for finding the worst possible thing to say to Sevika at any given time. Maybe it came with the job.

Sevika lips curl into a snarl as she rounds the desk, grabbing you by your collar before you can make a break for it. She pushes you back roughly into the chair and leers over you, her grey eyes stormy with fury and heat radiating off of her again.

“I am not territorial, I am not a creature. I am not some wild animal you picked up off the side of the road that needs to be fucking washed and fed,” she seethes hotly. “Fuck you for thinking it.”

You sink down as much as Sevika’s hand will allow, burning with embarrassment and fear. “I didn’t mean to…”

“What is wrong with you?” she snaps, making you flinch for the first time. “Why are you so damn obsessed with creatures? What, the only way you can feel fine with me is if you think I’m one too? Shit, maybe you’d be better off being shipped back to your island instead of around students.”

“Shut up! It’s not about whether you’re a creature or not, it just so happens that my kleptomaniac niffler has better manners than you do!” you shoot back scornfully, shoving her hand away from your collar. “Maybe if you didn’t act like a kicked mutt whenever I asked questions, I wouldn’t treat you like one!”

“A kicked WHAT?!”

<>

Claggor reluctantly drags his feet as he follows Vi and Milo through the corridor. “If you’re right, Professor Sevika is going to kill you both for eavesdropping.”

“As long as you keep your voice down, they’ll never know we were here,” Milo whispers back confidently, slowing down as they approach the door to Sevika’s classroom. “I’m sure Vi wouldn’t mind getting some dirt on her.”

Powder and Ekko, who had been curious as to what Milo had been muttering about earlier, had been told to stay put while their elders went to investigate.

Vi hits Milo playfully on the shoulder. “That’s the right attitude. About time we gave that ogre something to… D’you hear that?”

There’s a pause as the trio stops to listen to the loud voices behind the door.

“Wow. D’you think-”

“No, it doesn’t sound like-”

“Is it getting louder? Shit, back from the door-”

The door abruptly slams open and you storm out, practically breathing fire.

“Fucking mutt doesn’t know the first thing about nifflers, they’re nothing like rats!” you mutter under your breath, stomping your feet childishly on the stone floor as you march off down the corridor, narrowly missing Vi, Milo and Claggor scrambling to get behind the door to avoid being seen. “Should have left her for the damn manticore!”

You disappear around the corridor, angrily griping about Sevika all the way. After a few moments, Claggor pushes the door of the classroom shut as quietly as he can.

“I think you guys had the wrong impression,” he says gravely.

“Nah. If anything I’m more convinced now,” says Vi.

<>

Hours later, Viktor is hobbling away from the deeper levels of the dungeons. He leans heavily on his cane, almost panting as he makes his way towards the slytherin common room, clearly exhausted. And frustrated.

The last thing he wants to see right now is Sevika glaring down at him as he practically drags himself through the cold, damp corridors.

“Don’t look too upset. You didn’t miss anything,” he sighs as she steps in his way, blocking him from moving. “What’s wrong?”

“Why did you invite her here? She’s poking her nose into everything.”
“I’d hoped she wouldn’t be so inquisitive if she’d already spent seven years here. I told you, I was extremely limited in my options.”

“From what I’ve heard she’s come close to touching shimmer multiple times!” she hisses. “It’s been one day since she’s found out I’m a werewolf and she immediately came looking around my tree. Last night I had to hound her away from the mines - I don’t have the time to run around after her and keep her from seeing things she shouldn’t!”

Viktor cringes and leans against the wall, becoming more drained with every word spat at him. “I apologise. I had hoped the creature reserve and Tinker would keep her more distracted. Er, Tinker is the-”

“-The hippogriff, I know. Find some better distractions for her or send her away again,” Sevika demands. She lowers her voice, speaking softly and dangerously. “We don’t need anymore staff members going ‘missing’. Get her under control, or else.”

Chapter Text

The chill of the October air set in quickly, the cold seeping in through the cracks in the castle walls to make the torchlight flicker and students bundle themselves up in cloaks as they scurry to their lessons. With quidditch season fast approaching, those on their house teams trudge down to the training grounds or the quidditch field to get out their broomsticks - carefully polished and charmed to withstand the risk of frost - and hope practice will warm them up.

The cold, however, is nothing compared to the icy tensions between you and Sevika.

Whenever you two have the misfortune of being in the same room or pass each other in the corridor, the temperature seems to take a dramatic dip. No words are ever exchanged and there’s barely any eye-contact. When there is, students are taken aback at the pure distaste in your expressions.

Were you a little bit in the wrong about poking your nose into Sevika’s business? Yes, you were mature enough to admit that. That didn’t mean she had the right to tear into you and your creatures. She should know by now that Fief is not a rat, and that Fief definitely should not be thrown into a hot pot. She would taste awful.

Your frustration towards Sevika grows every time you shiver from a blast of freezing air, and when you have to go down early in the morning to feed the creatures before the sun has a chance to warm things up a little bit. You miss your cloak - after it had been reduced to less than rags you’d been forced to throw it out. There was no salvaging that thing.

On the bright side, your chance to get a new one presented itself to you with a pretty bow in the form of the upcoming school trip to Hogsmeade. Third years and above were all welcome to come, but teenagers will be teenagers, so they required chaperones. You’d been happy to volunteer - it had been a while since you’d had a good look around Hogsmeade anyway.

Without a cloak you settled for putting on an extra shirt beneath your outfit and a nice woollen scarf hanging from the coat hook. You consider tucking Fief beneath the shirt for a little extra warmth, but she looks so content next to the fireplace that you leave her to it.

The courtyard is full of buzzing students, wrapped up and ready for a day out. Grayson slowly moves through the crowd wearing a thick grey coat that reaches down to her knees, a clipboard in hand, counting under her breath as she takes attendance. You wait patiently by the fountain until she’s finished.

“Good morning,” she says politely, walking up to you and tucking the clipboard under her arm. “We’ll be working in rotation. The kids don’t need much monitoring, just enough to keep them fairly well-behaved. Two people will stay in The Three Broomsticks as a base for everybody, two will walk around with the kids, and one person will be free to do some shopping or whatever.”

“Sounds good to me. So there’s five staff members coming?”

“Yes. Speaking of… Try to be civil.”

It obviously hadn’t escaped the teachers notice that you and Sevika were more hostile towards each other than ever. Viktor had all but given up on the notion of you salvaging anything with her; somewhat of a relief. His badgering had been uncomfortably reminiscent of your mothers.

With all students accounted for, you follow behind Grayson as she leads everybody out of the courtyard and through the corridor to the entrance hall, then pushes open the doors to the castle entrance. The short journey had allowed what started off as an orderly line to devolve into a chaotic mess as the kids forcefully forged paths through their peers to find their friends in the hopes of sharing a carriage.

Outside, a long line of carriages tethered by patient thestrals winds slightly down the trail. There aren’t half as many as there were when you’d gone down to the station a month ago but it was still an impressive sight.

Off to the side you see the rest of the volunteers: Mel, wearing a long, fluffy, cream-coloured coat, Jayce, in a woolly jumper - is there another one underneath it? - and Sevika. It’s hard to tell if she’s wearing extra layers since she’s got on her poncho again. She’d seen you approach but looks instead to a weed growing from a crack in the stones. Apparently it’s more interesting to look at.

Viktor had deemed it far too cold to come along on the trip and nobody had expected Singed or Silco to come along, but this seemed like the sort of thing Heimerdinger would love. It was a shame he was staying behind, but you knew why he was - he wanted to surprise the kids when they got back. Heimerdinger was a deep appreciator of Halloween.

“None of that!” Grayson snaps. You turn, startled, to see what she’s upset about.

Caitlyn was scowling up at Vi, who had unceremoniously shoved her out of the carriage to make room for Claggor instead. Milo, sitting next to Vi, was laughing and patting Vi on the back while Claggor gave a half-hearted chuckle before quietly apologising to Caitlyn.

Grayson sighs and goes over to scold Vi and Milo, leaving you with the others. You barely spare a glance for Sevika, instead focusing on Jayce. “Are you wearing one or two jumpers?”

“Two,” he admits. Jayce is built well, and he certainly hasn’t let the chilled air bother him as he continues to stand tall with his hands put together. “I thought it couldn’t hurt.”

“I told him to put another one on. The one underneath is a Christmas jumper.” Mel shakes her head. “I’ve saved him from being mercilessly teased by the students. Where is your cloak? Aren’t you cold?”

“Erm… Lost it,” you say simply, ignoring how Sevika turned away slightly at Mel’s question. “I’m getting a new one today. Grayson says we’re going in rotation?”

“You and Grayson will be monitoring first, Jayce and Sevika will be in The Three Broomsticks, and I will have free time. After half an hour, you’ll get free time and Grayson and I will monitor. Then Sevika and I will monitor, Grayson will get her break, and you and Jayce will be in The Three Broomsticks.”

“Right,” you murmur, the information already making your head swim. You grasp enough to realise you won’t have to be alone with Sevika. If it’s on purpose, you decide not to bring it up - wouldn’t want to jinx it. “Aren’t Jayce and Sevika having a break?”

“I don’t need one, I’d just stay in The Three Broomsticks anyway,” Sevika says.

Jayce shrugs. “If the kids want more time, I’ll take one, but I don’t think I need one either.”

Grayson appears next to you again, and you look over to see Caitlyn has sullenly joined Vi, Milo and Claggor in their carriage with her arms crossed. She has Milo fixed with a devastating glare that seems to have watered him down.

Jayce does a quick check to make sure all the carriages are filled and then the teachers get into their own carriage. It’s a bit of a tight fit as usually there’s only meant to be four in one.

“Couldn’t you make your own way down?” Sevika grumbles at you, adjusting herself to be more comfortable.

“Why are you complaining? You’ve got more room.” You have been squeezed between Grayson and Mel, while Jayce has taken the spot next to Sevika. They’re definitely trying to keep you apart. “Or maybe not,” you mumble, raising an eyebrow at her large frame.

Grayson clears her throat and you fall obediently silent, resting back as the carriage begins to move. At least Mel and Grayson’s coats are soft. Your eyes betray you and wander back to Sevika’s poncho.

Is it soft? Soft doesn’t feel like Sevika’s style, although her collection of blankets within the tree may beg to differ. She wears it a lot, maybe to partially obscure her form, but she definitely isn’t shy when she’s not wearing it. Usually she takes to wearing shirts with short sleeves, showing off her muscles that make you wonder what kind of work she used to do for the ministry. A shame asking her for help with bigger creatures might be off the table - she could handle them.

Would creatures be receptive to her though, due to her being a werewolf? It shouldn’t have much effect. After all, Fief had only started trembling in Sevika’s presence after being shaken like a ragdoll, although she may have just been too excited by the prospect of shiny coins to care when they’d first met. Tinker wouldn’t be a good judge either since she’s scared of everybody, although she is warming up to you.

You glance up to look at Sevika in consideration but quickly avert your gaze when you accidentally lock eyes. It’s strange how they can be so cool and still burn into your brain the way they do. What was she saying about making your own way down to Hogsmeade?

She was probably referring to you being able to fly. Which was silly; first off, you have very little experience flying in even slightly difficult conditions. Usually you save it for clear skies and only a light breeze to ride with your wings. Secondly, being an animagus wasn’t a known secret among the staff like her werewolf identity. The only other person who knew was Viktor - and probably Singed. The man had an awful habit of knowing things he shouldn’t.

You’re distracted from your busy mind by the sound of birdsong above. A few birds are hovering overhead - crows, mostly - many of them rather close to your carriage in particular. Jayce cocks his head to the side, perturbed.

“Are the birds circling us?” he queries, raising an eyebrow. The others look up and Sevika scowls, pulling her poncho tighter over herself.

“Sorry.” You slip your hand into your pocket and struggle to take out your little pouch while being sandwiched like this. When you do produce it, you undo the string and shake a few seeds out of it into your hand, raising it up. “They’re starting to recognise me.”

One crow doesn’t hesitate to swoop down and settle precariously on your wrist, pecking at the seeds and making a show of swallowing them down in front of its friends. Its beady eyes take the time to consult each of the passengers, lingering on Sevika before raising its wings and hurriedly flying off.

You reach behind you to sprinkle out seeds behind the carriage as it carries on to keep any more birds from getting cozy on your coworkers laps.

“You shouldn’t do that, they’ll leave bird shit everywhere,” Sevika chides, looking over at you critically. “I suppose it might be an improvement on you.”

“They won’t leave any mess on me,” you assure her casually, fixing her with an equally salty glare. “I know how to tell them not to. I hope they don’t have any accidents around you though.”

“So, what kind of cloak are you thinking of getting? Green might suit you, and it would go well with the house theme,” Jayce interjects quickly. You narrow your eyes at him, and it clicks immediately that Viktor had set him up in advance to mediate.

You graciously decide to throw Jayce a bone and indulge him, dropping your threat to Sevika. Even still, for the rest of the journey, she keeps glancing upwards at the sky and her hand keeps going to the collar of her poncho, ready to pull it up for cover if need be. You are gleefully entertained, especially when one of the seeds ‘slips’ from your pouch to her feet. She is quick to kick it away.

Sounds of excitement and rowdiness among the students grow as the carriages draw closer and closer to Hogsmeade, and the moment the thestrals have manoeuvred to a large space near the edge of the town and come to a stop, the dam bursts as the kids jump down onto the ground, shoes crunching on fallen leaves turning orange with the season.

“Don’t run off!” Jayce calls out in vain as your carriage stops moving. He opens the door and is the first to hop down, once again offering out a hand to everybody to help them down. Mel smiles sweetly to him when he lowers her. Sevika scoffs, and dismisses him, getting down herself.

Grayson has already come to terms with the knowledge that it will be impossible to get these kids in line, and as you join her she is happy for them to take the lead.

“We don’t need to keep them on a tight leash,” she tells you as the students wander off in all directions. “As long as they know we’re nearby, I doubt they will do anything drastic. You can stick with me for now.”

You look back to see Mel staying by the carriages, drawing a piece of paper - perhaps a shopping list - from the pocket of her grand coat. Jayce lingers with her for only a few moments but Sevika is in no mood to spare him any patience, and when he finally turns around she’s already halfway to The Three Broomsticks.

With their only instructions being to return to the carriages for three o'clock, the kids branch off in every direction to peruse the shops.

People who live in Hogsmeade don’t seem bothered by the commotion, used to the sudden appearance of excitable students flooding the streets. They wave pleasantly as you and Grayson pass them, making a few comments such as “Another year, eh?” or “That time again?”

It’s only half-way through October yet many parts of Hogsmeade are already displaying Halloween decorations. Pumpkins carved with toothy grins in shop windows literally watch as you make your way down, bouncing up and down in place, a couple of them trying to roll off to freedom. You hear some students scream as spider-decorations crawl over the pavement and up the walls as quickly as possible, speeding up when the kids start pulling out their wands and aiming.

Grayson nods towards Zonko’s, a popular shop themed around selling tricks, jinxes and ‘fun’ spells or potions, which the students have flocked to. You both slow to stand outside it, and when you peer through the windows you can see the children fawning over books dedicated to cursing one’s enemies (not seriously enough to warrant a lawsuit - hopefully), uncorking potion samples and sniffing experimentally, buying sweets that will make steam billow from ones ears.

Vi and Milo are among the crowd, standing over the sweets station. You observe as Vi reaches for a jar of Nauseous Jumping Snakes and hides it casually behind her back. She’s not stealing, is she?

But Vi doesn’t make a move for the door. Instead she saunters over to a bookstand, where Caitlyn is flicking through pages curiously. Vi pops open the lid and raises it over Caitlyn’s head while Milo watches from afar, squeezing his arm hard to keep himself from smiling.

You knock sharply on the window, making nearby students jump. Vi is one of them, and she lowers the jar quickly when she locks eyes with you. Unfortunately for her, you’d caught Caitlyn’s attention too.

Caitlyn turns around in time to see Vi hiding the jar. You’re smart enough to turn away from the window and back to Grayson rather than observe the ensuing argument. Grayson also decides to turn a blind eye to the situation unfolding in the shop.

“Let’s go a little further,” Grayson suggests. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Somewhere more private, if you don’t mind.”

You nod and follow Grayson on, passing a tailor and a tea shop before coming to an alleyway. For a moment you think Grayson might take you down there but she pauses just outside it. She probably realises how strange it might look to lead you down there.

There are less people here, however it may not stay that way for long. The tea-shop opens in about twenty minutes according to the sign outside.

“I’d like to apologise for not being upfront about Sevika’s… Condition,” Grayson begins, bowing her head slightly, “but please understand it’s a private matter for her, of course. We’d appreciate it if you kept it that way, regardless of any complicated feelings you might have towards her.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” you say quickly. You’re far from Sevika’s biggest fan right now but you’re not petty enough to spread information like that around out of spite - especially now that she knows you are secretly an animagus. Not that you’d do it anyway.

“I’m also sorry for the way in which you discovered such important information. I imagine it must have been shocking and frankly terrifying to see her like that.”

You remember the way you casually rambled to and examined what you had assumed to be just some undiscovered beast in the forest, you're nicknames, how you'd thought it was oh-so-sweet of this smart creature to want to keep close to you, how you’d called her ‘pretty’...

“Err… I suppose,” you mumble.

“I assure you, Sevika is perfectly lucid thanks to her potions. However, I do believe you were warned beforehand about dangerous creatures roaming out in the forbidden forest. Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say - if anything that worked more as a beacon for you rather than a warning sign. I’d hoped our staff, no matter the longevity of their employment, would have more common sense,” Grayson says sternly.

Ah. Grayson wasn’t really trying to apologise or check on you. You were being scolded.

You hang your head accordingly. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, wringing your hands apologetically. “I thought she was a rare creature I hadn’t seen before and I got curious. I should have just minded my business.”

Grayson hums approvingly and you’re pretty sure you’re off the hook. Hopefully this won’t bite you in the ass later if Grayson discovers how you would absolutely risk your neck for a glimpse of a dangerous creature again in a heartbeat.

“Sevika is a little rough with the kids and her being a werewolf has caused complications in the past - and now - but she’s a good teacher and co-worker. I met her briefly when we were both working for the ministry and I was surprised when we both ended up at Hogwarts.”

“You worked with the ministry too?” Jayce, Sevika, you, and now Grayson - who among the staff hadn’t worked for the ministry?

“I was an auror for twenty years. I even led my own team, but Heimerdinger extended the invitation to pass my expertise onto the next generation. After so long in the same position I decided a change in careers wouldn’t be so bad, and I know the ministry will have me back if it doesn’t work out.”

“Twenty years working for the ministry? You must have seen it all.”

Grayson sighs. “The last few years with them were stifling to say the least. I’m sure you’d know all about the stricter laws on, well, everything. I understand you worked with them for a while?”

"Yes, for a few years, but I decided shipping myself off to an island covered in dragons in the middle of nowhere would be the better option.”

“Ah. Was it?”

“Absolutely.”

Walking back down towards the main street, you are just in time to see Vi storming out of Zonko’s, face almost as pink as her hair. Milo comes out a little bit after her, fist stuffed in his mouth to keep himself quiet, and he makes sure to follow Vi at a distance. Smart of him.

Grayson stops when she notices how you’ve stayed by the tailor shop, peeping through the windows at a selection of cloaks out on display.

“They can be expensive here,” she warns. “But I hear they’re worth the price. I thought you already had a cloak?”

“I lost it. I’ve tried ‘accio’, it hasn’t done anything,” you lie through your teeth again. ‘Sevika tore it to shreds trying to save me from my own stupidity’ didn’t have the same ring to it. “Maybe something in the forest ate it.”

“You lost it in the forest? Is this when you went to ‘investigate’ Sevika?”

“Sort of - how much do you think is too much for a cloak? Is red a good colour or is it too flashy?”

You keep your eyes on the cloaks in the shop windows instead of Grayson, pretending to admire shiny buttons and carefully sewn patterns, but you see her raise a tired eyebrow in the glass reflection.

<>

A short while later you wander over to the carriages to switch jobs with Mel. A few bags have been loaded up into the staff carriage - the problem of space apparently forgotten - and Mel is standing in front of one of the thestrals, stroking a delicate hand up and down its snout. The thestral has its eyes closed and accepts the attention eagerly, snorting softly in contentment.

“Time’s up, I suppose?” she says when you approach. “I’ve finished here anyway. I just need to give this one a little reward for standing so still.” Mel fishes out a small container from her coat pocket and pops it open, before holding it out to the thestral. It gives the container a sniff, then cranes its neck forward to chow down on whatever was inside.

“Is it meat?” you ask tentatively, not wishing to be a pain.

“Don’t worry, I at least know thestrals are carnivores.” Mel waits for the thestral to finish and puts the container back in her pocket.

You come up next to her, intending to get a better view of the thestral. Instead your eye catches on the piece of paper sticking out of Mel’s other pocket, alongside some pencils you hadn’t noticed on the way here. “Your shopping list?”

“No,” Mel chuckles. She takes out the paper and smooths it out, showing you a lovely sketch of the thestral. It’s a close up of its face, the snout both oddly majestic and cute with Mel’s careful brushes, exaggerating the skull-like features. “I finished my shopping a little bit ago, and they’re wonderful inspiration.”

“It looks amazing.” She really drew this in less than half an hour? “So, you can see them?”

Mel nods, running a finger slowly over the paper. “I like them, but they’re an unfortunate reminder sometimes.”

“Why draw them if they remind you of something like that?”

“I draw a lot of things. Mostly people and pets, sometimes places.” Mel gently folds the paper and puts it away. “I used to do paintings. I still do.” She hesitates, sparing you a contemplative glance. “Should I lose the people and things that I love, I want a way to preserve a little piece of them.”

You reach out to stroke the thestrals’ neck, wanting to occupy yourself. “That’s sweet. There was a portrait done of one of my childhood pets that I haven’t been able to get my hands on in years. I was too young to realise she’d gone, and I just thought she’d gotten stuck in the wall.”

Mel laughs, her voice a million golden bells etched with silver. You relax a bit and the awkward tension in your shoulders eases. A voice in your head that can’t decide if it’s being cynical or thoughtful suggests commissioning a painting of Viktor. He may not take well to it.

<>

“Three sickles may seem like a lot, but the fabric is very durable - seven protective charms if you can believe it - and the green is very becoming on you, Miss.”

A shop assistant hovers attentively to the side as she puts forward the different cloaks the tailor has for sale. You stand in front of a full length mirror, twisting around to see how you look in a dark green cloak with a thin golden lining that just reaches past your ankles. It’s warm, comfortable, and the hood has a thick woollen interior.

It’s also probably a better option than the bright red cloak that would stand out if (when) you took another night-time walk in the forbidden forest. You pull the hood up over your head.

“This is quite nice,” you concede, smiling in satisfaction. “You’re sure it will last long?”

“Four years at the very least, Miss. Unless of course it suffers serious damages over and over again.”

Three sickles for a four year investment? “That’s fine with me. I’d like to wear it out too, please.”

“SERENA! C’mere, I need you for this damn silk-”

The shop assistant’s eye twitches. “Excuse me for a minute, Miss, I’ll be as quick as I can.” She disappears through a door behind the counter, leaving you to continue admiring the cloak in the mirror. Is the golden lining shiny enough to get Fief's attention? You hope not, it wouldn’t do for her to destroy this one.

The bell over the front door rings, signifying that somebody has stepped inside. It rings a second time.

“Seriously, I’m sorry about that, it’s just that Milo was saying stuff to me, and-”

“I’m not interested in whatever Milo says, it’s about you listening to him!”

In the mirror, you can see that Vi and Caitlyn’s squabbling doesn’t seem to have deterred their shopping trip. Caitlyn is already loaded up with two bags, their handles hanging off her arm as she inspects the more fashionable - and noticeably expensive - cloaks displayed on mannequins, which move to show themselves off better when they notice her looking. Vi only has one bag slung over her shoulder, bulky at the bottom but it doesn’t reach halfway.

You’re almost foolish enough to feel guilty about possibly being the cause of their arguing by calling Vi out. Then you remember that it would probably be worse if you hadn’t stepped in.

As their conversation continues, however, you realise they unfortunately haven’t noticed it's you with the hood up.

“He’s been driving me nuts since the cupcake thing! Every time I talk to him, it’s ‘ooh, you want some sprinkles’ and ‘icing’ and ‘buns in the oven’-”

“Don’t be so crude-”

“I’m not the one saying it! Wait, that’s crude to you?”

“Just because he’s being a pain doesn’t mean you have to make it my problem!”

You pull the hood lower over your face as you grimace and move away from the mirror to wait by the counter. Part of you knows you should tell them to knock it off until they’re not in a public space. On the other hand, you’re on break.

“As if you’re not content enough to cause hassle for just me, I’m sure Miss is already tired of your nonsense,” says Caitlyn haughtily, throwing Vi a contemptuous look that will wind her up. “I’m glad she called you out. You ought to keep your nose out of her private affairs.”

Miss? She must be referring to you - the students typically refer to the actual teachers as ‘Professor’, although Vi didn’t tend to give Sevika that same title, weirdly preferring to use her actual name. What’s this about Vi looking into your private matters? You lean away from the counter slightly, suddenly more interested in listening in to the conversation rather than cringing away from it.

“If that’s her taste in women, maybe she deserves to be hassled a bit,” Vi counters, shoving her free hand into her trouser pocket and rolling her eyes dismissively. “Did I tell you she had a fight with Sevika?”

“I don’t need you to tell me that, anybody can tell they’ve fallen out.”

You freeze up slightly as Vi’s words settle in. Sure, you hadn’t exactly been quiet about your fight some time ago, but it would be a problem if Vi had listened into what you’d both actually said?

Had you said anything incriminating? ‘Mutt’, ‘wet dog’, ‘flea-brain’, plus you’d insulted her fur and her breath… But nothing to explicitly state she was a werewolf. If anything, Vi might just think Sevika hadn’t washed in a week.

“I didn’t hear much of it, but I think Miss has creatures on the brain. It sounded like she was comparing Sevika to a dog.”

… Well in hindsight that’s not a great alternative. You pull your hood further over your face to hide the shame better.

“Oh.” Caitlyn taps her chin in thought and lowers her voice. “Perhaps it’s a sex thing.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

The return of the shop assistant interrupts your astonished guffaws, and she taps some buttons on the til.

You hurriedly cough up the three sickles, mutter your thanks and turn on your heels, hiding your steaming face from Vi and Caitlyn as they thankfully move onto another topic to argue about. Whatever impression you thought you’d been giving these kids, clearly it was the wrong one.

Sure, it’s already common knowledge that you love all things with claws, fur or feathers, but not that much.

The ringing of the bell inside the shop is cut off as the door swings shut behind you. Outside, the cold is quite nice on your burning cheeks. At least you’re snug in your new cloak.

Gargoyles, you’d been wearing it in the shop. You were ninety-nine percent sure they weren’t paying any attention to you, but what if they realised you’d been in there when they saw you in the cloak? It’s not like you’re the only one in a dark green cloak though, so chances are they won’t notice.

And what the hell did they think was going on between you and Sevika?!

Actually you’d rather not think about it. You shake your head frantically, trying to shake the conversation out of your head, and start heading further down the road. You’ve got more shopping to do anyway - that’ll be a good enough distraction from whatever all that was about.

<>

Nearing the end of your half hour of freedom, you use your free hand to push open the door to The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade’s most popular - and only - pub. It’s wonderfully cosy inside, with a roaring fireplace at the back and warm lighting from a small candle-lit chandelier that is hanging from the ceiling. The bar off to the side being tended to by one lone bartender isn’t all that busy now, although you can imagine it’s due for another rush soon.

A lot of students have set up base here, sitting in booths at the back with their friends or around pushed together tables. The seventeen year olds are enjoying the privilege of drinking actual alcohol - something that hopefully wouldn’t present too many problems on the way back to Hogwarts - while most of their cohort instead enjoy butterbeer or ginger ale.

Your occupied hand is filled up with a few small bags from various shops. Now that everything on your shopping list could be ticked off, you lug your bags towards a booth next to the bar where Jayce and Sevika are sitting.

Clearly the rules about smoking only applied in Hogwarts rather than in front of the students, something you learn the hard way when you round the side of the booth and you are assaulted with a cloud of smoke. Sevika doesn’t bother to conceal a smirk as she takes a large cigar from her lips while you cough and wave a hand in front of your face.

Jayce takes advantage of the distraction, swiftly grabbing a piece of parchment from the table and stuffing it into his pocket. “Is your break over?”

“I’ve got a few minutes left.” You slide into the space next to Jayce and lean back to keep from inhaling anymore smoke. “Next it’s Sevika and Mel, right?”

“Right. Don’t worry about sitting here with me, we barely have to do anything except sit in the warm and make sure the seventh-years don’t overdo it. Nice cloak by the way, did you just buy it?”

“Yep, found it in the tailors next to the tea-shop,” you confirm.

Sevika eyes the cloak but keeps her expression blank. “How much did that set you back?” she asks.

“Just three sickles. It’s supposed to last a long time and it looks nice, so…”

“And how many sickles have you paid Silco back for his cloak after the damage your pet did to it?”

“I haven’t paid him any,” you say through gritted teeth. “He told me I didn’t have to as long as I got him some potion ingredients or something.”

Jayce and Sevika frown and exchange a fleeting look with each other. “What did he want?” Jayce asks tentatively.

You open your mouth then hesitate. Jayce is fairly close with Viktor, and Silco had been clear he didn’t want Viktor to know you're doing him a favour. Gorgons, you should have kept your mouth shut. Would Silco be upset if word got around to Viktor through Jayce?

“Does he want unicorn blood and a dragon liver?” Sevika questions, leaning forward over the table.

“Mhm.” You glance at the cigar in her hand. She’s got one thumb slowly rubbing up and down the side of it. “Something about running low on potion ingredients, but I don’t know what he’s trying to make. Don’t mention it to Viktor.”

Sevika’s stormy eyes seem to cut right through Jayce. “Yeah, don’t tell Viktor. He’ll make a fuss.”

Jayce glowers at Sevika but nods in agreement. You haven’t seen much of Sevika and Jayce’s interactions, and they’re leaving you with a rather odd impression of their relationship.

“So, you were able to get all of those for him?” Sevika pushes.

“Not all of it yet. You think I’m going to find dragon liver hanging from a tree? I was actually hoping to find a unicorn when my last cloak went ‘missing’.”

“... Hm.” Sevika leans back again and takes another drag from the cigar. Now that you’re settled down you can get a good look at Sevika. When she’s in a classroom, she’s usually standing up or hunched over her desk and scowling over student work she’d rather not be doing, and in the great hall you can’t see her that well, but her hand is always itching for something to smoke.

Now that she’s out of the school, she looks much more relaxed. Her posture is more slouched, one strong arm hanging over her seat lazily while the other holds her cigar. Her legs are spread beneath the table, and her poncho has hitched up and to the side a bit, revealing a sliver of skin and defined abs.

If Sevika wasn’t such an ass to you and your creatures, you almost wouldn’t be so upset about students thinking you could get a woman like her into bed.

“I’m going to get another drink,” says Sevika after a few moments, getting up out of the booth. She taps her cigar on an ashtray before dropping it in, getting a little bit of ash on her fingers that she brushes off on her trousers. You shake your head slightly, annoyed about not noticing how transfixed you’d been for a minute there.

“You’ve got to go in a minute…” you start but Jayce puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says dryly. “She could drink a real giant under the table and then some.”

The bartender, tall with black hair cut in a straight, slanted line across their face and obscuring one eye, recognises Sevika. She hasn’t even reached the bar before they’ve grabbed a glass off a shelf and begun to fill it under a beer tap.

Jayce cracks a boyish grin at your wide-eyed, open mouthed expression as Sevika, without missing a beat, takes her glass and tips back her head, downing the drink all in one go. Ten seconds tops. Then the glass is slammed back down and Sevika takes a knut from her pocket and hands it over.

They nod to one another, neither of them exchanging a single word during the entire interaction, then Sevika straightens her poncho out, turns around, and walks out of the pub.

“What in Merlin’s name…” you murmur. Jayce laughs and shakes your shoulder before taking his hand back.

“Yeah, it’s something, isn’t it? And don’t worry, I won’t say anything to Viktor,” he adds. His eyes drift down to your wand poking out slightly from the pocket of your new cloak. “Your wand is okay, right? No… Issues?”

“Huh? Yeah, my wand’s fine. I don’t know what Sevika was making a big deal about.” After your argument with Sevika you had begrudgingly still taken Jayce aside to ask him to look over your wand for any remains of the purple sap. He’d taken it away for an hour then returned it to report that nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Good,” Jayce sighs. “Sorry to freak you out, it’s just… The sap is this weird new thing and since I’m the only one who is able to get rid of it right now we’re all worrying about it having odd effects. Silco and Singed want to bottle it up and make it into a potion or a new plant or something.”

“That does not surprise me in the least.” You could easily see Singed skulking around and carefully scooping gloved handfuls of a strange new material into a bottle, then shaking it around and quietly chuckling like an evil mad scientist. You remember how he rushed from his greenhouse, presumably to get his hands on it. “Do you really have no idea where it’s coming from? I mean, it’s everywhere, in the castle, in the forest…”

“We’re working on it,” Jayce insists. “It might be something in the air that’s being spread by the wind, and that’s why it’s showing up in so many places.”

“So I’m guessing you can only get rid of it with complicated charms? Y’know, since you’re the charms teacher.”

“For now, yes. Like I said, we’re working on it - where it’s coming from and how to get rid of it.” His hand slips down to the pocket where he’d put away the parchment and he pats it reassuringly. “I’ve got a lot on my plate, charms-wise. I’m still working on the prefect’s bathroom?”

You’d forgotten all about the prefect bathroom being closed off to students and staff alike. It had been ages since anybody had mentioned it, but it wasn’t as if you’d had any reason to go in there.

“It’s covered in jinxes, right? It’s been a few weeks since you said you were going to clear it up.”

“I guess it was a hot-spot for students to sneak into and practice hexing. There’s layers upon layers of old spells in there, I’ve barely made a dent in it.”

“Really? Have you asked somebody else to look into it?”

“I asked Viktor and Sevika,” Jayce says, “but they agree it’s going to take a while to sort through it all, and it’s best for people to keep away from it until the situation improves. Wouldn’t want any accidents.”

“I’ll mind myself then.” At that moment you register the free space Sevika had left you, so you reach around to put your bags where she’d sat. Better than keeping them on the floor at your feet.

“So, what did you get?” Jayce asks, changing the subject and nodding to the bags.

“Apart from my cloak, I got some perfume, some treats that Fief likes and a shiny bell for her - I might regret that one though. I also found a creature encyclopedia!”

“Of course you did. Did you need it for something?”

You pause and narrow your eyes. “Um… Tinker,” you say ominously.

Jayce blinks. “The hippogriff? Or, as in, you’re tinkering with…”

“Oh, good. Sorry, I was thinking about whether you knew about Tinker or not and I was drawing a blank. Anyway, the school library barely has anything on creatures in there except the usual textbooks, so when I saw something that could help with her I took the opportunity.”

“I’m honestly surprised you don’t already own one,” Jayce admits. “Figured you were your own creature encyclopedia. Are you trying to help her?”

“I’m making progress,” you say quietly. “She got real close a couple of weeks ago, even sniffed my boots, but she still prefers to keep a distance. Her feathers are growing back a bit, but I still can’t get close enough to do anything about her limp. And she won’t eat fish for some reason, or ferrets.”

“Ah. Is that… Strange?” Jayce asks, puzzled.

“Yes!” you exclaim loudly. A few students turn their heads in your direction and you lower your voice again. “Um, yes. Hippogriffs usually love fish, it’s a very convenient source of protein for them thanks to their eagle qualities - flying and their beaks, and such. It’s odd to me that she doesn’t like them. Plus she keeps very low to the ground, and I haven’t been able to get a look at her stomach. I’m wondering if there’s a scratch or something I haven’t seen yet.”

You’re about to reach over to show him the encyclopedia when the pub door swings open as Vi, Mylo and Claggor wander inside. You snatch your hand back and pull your hood up over your face, turning around to face Jayce fully.

“You talk now,” you insist, pretending not to see the confused look on his face. “Viktor mentioned ages ago about you mixing magic with ma… shines, or something?”

It’s like you’ve said the magic words. Jayce’s eyes light up and you’re taken aback at the enthusiasm with which he turns around, sitting how you are.

“I know you thought I was giving sort of an interview answer back at the station, but I’m serious about improving the world through researching and implementing magic more. The muggle and wizarding worlds are always kept separate, but I say we’d benefit so much more if we worked to make them inextricable. I… Well, I’ve gotten to experience both worlds; my mother is a muggle and my father was a wizard, but ever since my first summer back from Hogwarts I was applying everything I learned into everyday life.”

“Oh, wow,” you say weakly, caught off guard by this explosion of excitement.

“There’s so much you can do by mixing magic with everyday muggle items! There’s a whole department in the ministry devoted to un-enchanting items that have been jinxed or they’ve had some potion spilled on them, but there’s so much potential! One thing I’ve been really interested in - Viktor was excited about this too - is mixing modern muggle medicine with magic!”

You tilt your head to one side. “Medicine?”

“Yes! There are many regular diseases magic alone hasn’t been able to fix, and ones that muggle medicine can’t do anything about - but combining the two could be revolutionary!” Jayce’s volume was climbing higher, and once again people were looking to your table.

“I thought we already did something like that?” you interject awkwardly, holding up a hand in hopes he’ll quiet down a bit. “During one of the world wars, there was some attempt to combine the ‘episkey’ healing spell with pho… phos… some gas that muggles thought would be a disinfectant… But they sprayed it on people…?”

It’s embarrassing how obvious it is that you don’t quite know what you’re talking about but Jayce gets the idea. “Yes, that was unfortunate, I remember. It caused burn marks to appear and had some weird effect on muggles’ blood - but there weren’t any serious side effects on the witches and wizards!”

“They couldn’t use ‘episkey’ for several months - or am I mistaken?”

“However!” Jayce smacks a hand onto the table suddenly, causing you and the booth of students behind you to jump. “Think about it! The medicine and magic had a strange effect that cancelled out magic! It cancelled out a specific spell for a prolonged period of time! What if we could use it to cancel out different sorts of magic?”

“Cancel out… You want to cancel out magic intentionally?” you say, bewildered.

“Maybe not magic, but diseases that plague witches and wizards, things that magic alone hasn’t worked on,” Jayce continues, leaning forward with his eyes shining. “We could heal all sorts of conditions, like those who are stuck with effects from permanent potions, like kids born from the amortentia potion, or werewolves, or…”

“... Or people born with curses,” you murmur, the gears in your head turning slowly. Hell, no wonder Viktor was so interested in Jayce’s ideas. “Are you actually researching this? Are you even allowed to, what with all the new laws from the ministry?”

Jayce visibly falters and he backs away from you awkwardly. “I… No, I don’t have the licenses or permits or anything. I can’t run any experiments. Not legally anyway,” he mumbles the last part under his breath.

Best to pretend you didn’t hear that bit so you can claim plausible deniability if Jayce ends up going down some less than socially acceptable paths to fuel his passion.

“How else would you mix magic and… Muggle things?” you ask, directing the conversation to something less likely to get Jayce investigated.

“I don’t have the licenses to do anything too crazy, but I have a lot of theories.” Jayce goes to reach for the inside of his waistcoat to take something out, then remembers he’s wearing his jumper. “One thing I really want to test out is mixing magic with electricity - we can’t do that at Hogwarts because of all the protective charms that make phones and everything fizz out of use.”

“Yeah, we had a telephone,” you add unnecessarily, latching onto something you sort of know. You could recall a sleek black telephone kept in the entrance hall of your old house, but you’d never been allowed to touch it.

“Just think! Televisions always blow wizards' minds when they find how similar they are to newspapers and portraits that move, but if we combined to do - we could do things like bring shows to life! Literally! Or combining new modern phones with magic could revolutionise technology, we could use emails to send things overseas in a blink!”

“Eee-male?”

“We could render airplanes, cars, motorcycles, vans and such would be pointless if we combined tech with magic! Actually I think I’ve skipped a few steps, I don’t have my notebook, but it would be fantastic! It would also be great for kids, I mean imagine if we combined muggle franchises like Pokemon with magic? Maybe we could have Pikachus roaming the… street…” Jayce finally trails off, seeing the look on your face. “Er, did I lose you somewhere?”

“I… What’s a Pick-Choo?”

“Oh.” Jayce’s face falls and he narrows his eyes. “Are you from an all-magic family?”

You nod, shifting in your seat as if it’s a bad thing. “Sorry, I don’t know anything about the muggle world. At all.”

“Seriously? How do you not know anything?”

“Well, I know some things. Some of my coworkers on the isle came from muggle families so they would tell me this and that. But I was raised in an all wizard-family in an all-wizard community, and since I was put in Slytherin as a student I was usually only surrounded by people also from all-wizard families. Then I worked in the ministry exclusively with magical creatures, and then I shipped myself off to an island away from civilization. I haven’t had many chances to learn.”

Jayce leans his elbow on the table and stares at you in disbelief, causing you to pull your hood further over your face self-consciously. “Wow. I mean, Viktor came from a muggle and a witch, so I’d have thought that might… Well, I guess he didn’t spend much time with either of them. Sorry, I should have asked before I threw all of that at you.”

“It’s okay. If it helps, I reacted the same way when one of my muggle-born coworkers tried to explain a ‘movie’ called ‘Twilight’ to me. It sounds pretty disrespectful to vampires but apparently muggles love it.”

“Not anymore they don’t,” Jayce assures you. “And don’t mention that to Sevika. The whole franchise gave a rough impression of werewolves.”

"Has she watched it?!"

<>

“I don’t suppose any of you thought to leave room for us?” Sevika snarls.

You step sheepishly closer to Grayson in the hopes she’ll be a good cover. Half of the teacher’s carriage has been taken over by shopping bags from you, Mel, Jayce and surprisingly Grayson. The student carriages have just started the journey back to Hogwarts.

You’d told Jayce to take a break halfway through your stay at The Three Broomsticks, telling him you could keep an eye on the kids yourself for a little while. Now though his ‘quick shopping trip’ has taken up a whole quarter of the carriage. Mel has bought about the same amount of stuff as him.

Your own bags are small enough to sit on your lap, and Grayson only has one bag that is full of broomstick-care products. Sevika, the only one who hasn’t bought anything except a few beers, glares down at you all with her. Judging by the shape of her poncho, her hands are settled on her hips.

“It’s not an issue,” Mel says calmly, cooly counteracting Sevika’s heated frustration. “There’s enough room for two or three people. We can send up a couple of us and then send the carriage back down.”

Sevika’s nose flares at first, then she glances back down the road. “That works. I could do with another drink.”

“Exactly! Think of it as you getting your break after all.” Mel helps herself into the carriage before Jayce can offer to help. “I hope you don’t mind if I go with the first batch, I don’t want anybody getting handsy with all my shopping.”

You raise your eyebrows and nudge Jayce. “You’ve got a lot of shopping in there too. I bet the students might get curious,” you hint. It’s not subtle, but it’s been a long day.

Jayce catches on quickly and helps himself up into the carriage after Mel, leaving space for one more person. Grayson looks between you and Sevika hesitantly.

“Go on.” Sevika nods you to the carriage. “You don’t want to hang around with a ‘mutt’ like me.”

Your eye twitches in annoyance. “Sure, I’ll go home and boil my ‘rats’ into soup for you.”

“Make my day,” Sevika mutters.

Grayson heaves a sigh and steps up into the carriage. “Congratulations. You two have all afternoon to make up and act like adults. The next carriage should come to get you in a little over an hour.” With that, you and Sevika are left speechless as Grayson gives the thestral the go-ahead to take them back up to the castle.

Jayce shoots you a sympathetic look over his shoulder and Mel waves pleasantly. Sevika barely suppresses a growl while you childishly kick a nearby pebble.

However a particularly cold breeze chooses that moment to blow through the town streets, and you pull your cloak tighter around yourself to defend against it. Sevika is hardly phased by the sudden chill but takes note of your shivering.

“Let’s go inside. Three Broomsticks still has the fire going,” she suggests, shoving her hands in her pockets irritably.

Indeed the fire is still crackling in the corner of the pub when you walk in, although the building doesn’t seem as warm now that the swarms of students are gone. The bartender remains too, pointing their wand out idly as rags scrub the tables down, two mops hurry back and forth across the floors, while empty glasses float in an orderly line through a small window behind the bar, presumably leading to a charmed sink.

Sevika shuts the door of the pub behind you and goes to sit at the bar. “Need something slow this time,” she says. The bartender nods and drops their wand, letting the rags, mops and glasses fall. You wince at the sound of masses of glass shattering.

The bartender raises an eyebrow when they see you - Sevika’s frame had kept you partially hidden - and starts preparing two glasses. One is a large, foaming beer that they slide across the counter to Sevika. The other is a ginger ale in a slightly smaller glass.

“Oh- How much is this?” you ask, setting your bags down on the stool next to yours and settling yourself down in the spot next to Sevika. Merlin, she’s warm. You’ve noticed Sevika is always radiating some heat off of her, probably some strange side-effect of being a werewolf you ought to read up on.

You take your old wallet out of your pocket but the bartender shakes their head and waves you off, turning around to pick their wand up and resume cleaning. Sevika scoffs and takes a swig from her own glass.

The atmosphere is unfortunately tense as you and Sevika sit in awkward silence as you slowly drain your jugs. It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t just you and the bartender, who is quietly casting ‘repairo’ on all the broken glass, but nobody else from Hogsmeade has filed into the pub even now that the students have left.

“Do you mind?”

“Hm?” You glance up and lean away from Sevika hastily. You’d been unconsciously leaning toward her - well, her body heat. “Sorry.”

The bartender finishes fixing all the broken glasses and returns to behind the bar, folding their arms and leaning over the counter towards Sevika. “The girls miss you,” they say quietly, lips quirked upwards in a friendly smirk.

Sevika laughs and takes another gulp of beer. “Miss my coin, sure. If Babette wants to give me some good customer service, she can write to Heimerdinger and ask for me to have a few days off to come down.”

You blink at Sevika, letting her words sink in. “You go to the brothel?”

Sevika chokes on her beer and gives the bartender a look that could slice lemons. The bartender backs away, raising up their hands to say ‘not my fault,’ so Sevika rounds on you instead.

“You know Babette?” she asks, skirting around the real question.

“Yeah, I’ve met her. I’ve never been down there as a customer though,” you say quickly.

Tucked away into the furthest corner of Hogsmeade, right on the very edge, is ‘The Gardens’, a cosy building with a business model devoted entirely to people’s desire for more… Sinful pleasures. There aren’t that many of them due to the long, long list of strict laws in place for them, but Babette - owner of The Gardens - always stays on top of paperwork and takes the safety of her employees very seriously.

Some Hogwarts students might know about it but as far as you know it isn’t common knowledge among the kids despite their semi-frequent visits to town. Barely any of them are from Hogsmeade and the adults usually treat it as a hush subject. You’re not sure Babette even has the place open when the kids come down.

“So what have you been down there for, if not the company?” Sevika presses, swirling her beer and ignoring the few drops of froth that escape to drip down the side and onto her hand.

“When I was still working for the ministry I got called down to take care of a creature issue. There was a nest of Doxies hiding beneath the floorboards which nobody knew about, but I guess somebody got too excited and disturbed them. The whole place was swarmed.”

The bartender’s eyes light up in what could be recognition. Sevika blinks down at you, startled.

“Doxies? As in, Biting Fairies?”

“Yeah, some people call them that. The only difference is that they bite more, they’re a completely different colour, and they have four more limbs than the average fairy,” you say, your voice dripping with condescension. It’s immature, yes, but people really should know the difference.

Sevika’s nose flares again at your tone, a habit you’re realising she exhibits whenever she’s annoyed. “Oh, is that all?” she mutters, bringing her beer up to her lips.

“Should be common sense,” you murmur, refusing to acknowledge how Sevika rolls her eyes. “It took a couple hours to sort out, but Babette was sweet enough to give me… I don’t know what she calls them. I want to say they’re ‘tickets’? Like, she gave me three contracts so I could come back and have a free night whenever I wanted. I’ve never used them though.”

Sevika pauses and puts her beer down slowly on the counter. The bartender cocks their head to one side curiously, revealing their concealed eye.

“You have three free nights?” Sevika asks slowly. “And you haven’t used any of them?”

“...Yes?”

“You know, maybe I was a little harsh on you and your ra- niffler-”

“I’m not giving them to you,” you snap.

Sevika huffs and picks her beer back up in swift defeat. “Doesn’t sound like you even want to use them.”

“Not really.” But now that you know Sevika wants them, you’re not giving them to her.

Another glass is pushed gently across the counter in front of you. You glance down to see a blue and pink liquid somehow stacked on top of each other inside it, complete with a layer of whipped cream, a cherry, and a red and white striped straw poking out the top.

“I guess I could be swayed,” you giggle, picking the cherry off the top and popping it in your mouth. The bartender grins in return, then turns to raise an eyebrow at Sevika.

“Suck up,” Sevika growls.

Chapter Text

The first indicator of the impending disease that would shake the magical world to its core was Fief ignoring your temptations of shiny trinkets and juicy, fresh-picked berries in favour of hiding under your bed.

“Come on, sweetheart,” you murmur softly, ringing the little bell you’d fetched for her from Hogsmeade. “You loved this thing the other day. What’s the matter with you?”

It’s been a week since your trip to Hogsmeade and the awkward journey back to the castle with only you and Sevika. Sevika had chosen to sit with her back to the wind and opposite to you so that her cigar smoke blew directly into your face every single time she took a drag.

Neither of you had exchanged apologies or even pleasantries since you’d returned, but no longer do the portraits in the hallway shiver when you happen to pass one another; however, they do snicker whenever you drop seeds around her feet when she isn't looking.

With a decent haul from your shopping trip and confirmation from Viktor that he probably wouldn’t need any assistance for the rest of the month, you’d been looking forward to a relaxing week in front of the fire with your new book and Fief curling up in your lap.

Apparently Fief had other plans. When she’d accidentally nudged you awake in the middle of the night to dart from the warm blankets to beneath the bed you hadn’t thought much of it, presuming she’d just had a bad dream or wanted to pitter around for a while.

But when you rolled out of bed to prepare for the day ahead she was still under there, trembling violently.

“Come here,” you coo, gesturing her forward with one finger. “You’re shivering like hell, darling, I need to make sure you’re not sick. It won’t take long.”

Fief hurries forward and at first you think she’s finally come around - however, instead of leaving her spot, she takes your finger in her bill and tries to drag you back with her. You tut and shake your finger free. Fief retorts with a strange mewl which devolves into a series of short yaps.

“Silly girl,” you sigh. If she won’t let you check if she’s sick then it’s worth looking around to see if anything has spooked her.

You point your wand to the fire and various candles set up around the hut, filling the room with pleasant light more fitting for the evening rather than this early in the morning. Taking no chances, you look beneath the chairs, the stool and table, inside the cupboards, in the little bathroom that is set behind a small wooden door at the back… You even peer into the hearth to see if a salamander or something has moved in. Nothing.

“It’s just us,” you insist uselessly, but still Fief continues to squeak. “Fief, I really don’t have time for this.”

Still, you shrug on your new cloak and throw open the front door to stalk around the outside of the hut. There’s nothing sinister in the bushes, the shrubs, no threats lurking in the little neglected garden unless Fief had developed a fear of ants.

You go around the back of the hut, out of sight of the castle, and shut your eyes, letting your body painlessly contort and shrink, all the way down until green fabric was replaced by glossy black feathers. The persistent cold makes your feathers puff up uncomfortably. You spread your wings and flap, taking off into the air only to settle on the roof.

Apart from the smoke of the fireplace drifting from the chimney and the moss growing over the roof tiles, there is nothing that stands out. Your beady eyes scan the area and the ground below, in case there was something you missed. The birds’ eye view reveals nothing out of the ordinary.

Even so, Fief is inconsolable. Free of your feathers and back in the hut, you cock your head to the side in bewilderment.

As much as you’d like to figure out what has Fief so shaken up, you have a job to do. “Silly girl,” you repeat, lightly scolding her as you slide a small bowl of berries beneath the bed to sit next to her. As an afterthought you roll the bell down there with her too. “I’ll leave the lights on for you, alright? Don’t get too close to the fire.”

You step out of the hut and shut the door behind you, but linger for a few moments. It’s very quiet this morning. Perhaps more quiet than usual? In a ridiculous sense of precaution, you lock the door behind you.

There’s nothing different about your short journey down to the creature reserve so you can’t help silently chastising yourself for being so on edge. Fief was weird, even for a niffler. As much as you loved the troublesome furball she was definitely more of a pain in ass than any other niffler you’d come across - although that might have to do with your poor training instead of an innate issue on her end.

Arriving at the edge of the reserve field, you wave your wand to make one of ‘Stupid Horse’s’ food baskets float. You refuse to accept that really is what his name is - the best thing you can do for the poor thing is take advantage of Viktor staying inside more often during the colder months and get the abraxen used to a different name. ‘Caramel’ still sounds like a good alternative.

It’s still oddly silent as you make your way down the path and your footsteps the only thing you can hear. It could have something to do with how dark the sky is now that the days are getting longer but that doesn’t feel right.

Then you catch sight of Caramel.

Instead of being settled in the crook of his rock like he usually is at this time and getting up just in time for his breakfast, he’s already up and walking in circles. His hooves paw at the dirt and he tosses his mane in obvious distress.

“Are you all reading the same newspapers?” you quip sarcastically, lowering the basket onto the ground. You don’t want to get too close for fear of being crushed - he may be a big softie, but he’s still an enormous horse.

Maybe the pixies had wound him up? You glance at the pixie tree to find it has been picked clean of berries and is missing all of its pixies.

Frowning up at the tree, it suddenly clicks for you why everything is so quiet; you can’t hear any birds. Is that weird for this time of year?

“Oh!” you gasp, feeling a pressure on your back, and the tree sways along with you. Looking over your shoulder, you’re shocked to see Caramel flapping his wings, causing a great gust to push back against you, his haunches back, all ready for take off. Then he changes his mind, closing his wings up and walking around in another circle, his eyes rolling around wildly.

What the hell has gotten everyone so riled up this morning?

“Caramel?” you call over, not really expecting to get the abraxen’s attention. You step closer, wand at the ready in case he ends up trying to trample you in his confusion. “What’s the matter, lovely? Has something scared you?”

Caramel whines and stamps his hoof again, hard, like a child throwing a tantrum that they’re too upset to commit to. You’re not going to get anywhere at this rate.

The only thing to do is resort to the only thing you know will work on him - food. You hurry back over to his food basket and take off the lid. “You want breakfast? Come on, it’s all ready for you!”

This time Caramel turns his head in your direction and his stomping lessens in severity. However, when you squint, you can still see his feathered wings twitching. If food alone wasn’t enough to calm him down you might really be in trouble. Sorry Fief.

“Accio Berries!” you chant, pointing your wand up to the sky and holding out your hand, visualising the bowl of berries you’d left with your equally upset niffler.

Nothing happens for a second, then you hear a distant crash, the sound of something skirting a bush, and then you’re holding the bowl of berries in your outstretched hand. Half of them are gone, implying you’d rudely interrupted Fief in the middle of her meal. At least you knew she was stable enough to eat.

You dump the berries in with the basket, making sure Caramel can see. “You see the berries? Come on, they’re all ready, just for you. You love blueberries, don't you?”

Caramel relents. He folds his wings up fully and slowly walks towards the basket. You step back to give him space to eat, glad he’s taken an interest. On the other hand, you’re unnerved as hell.

Fief is hiding under the bed, the pixies have taken off somewhere, none of the birds are singing, and Caramel has had to be convinced to eat his damn food instead of flying off to who knows where. One or the other could be brushed off, however this was undeniably unnatural. So far it’s only animals and creatures, but…

Is Tinker okay?

A jolt runs through you at the thought. Without waiting to see if Caramel decides to chow down, you pocket your wand and begin striding further down the path. You take no notice of the thorn bushes that warn you not to get close to the forbidden forest - as if they’d ever discouraged you before - and find the gap between the trees, stepping through the bush into Tinker’s clearing.

What is that noise? Is it coming from above? You nearly look up to check but you’re distracted by the state of Tinker’s nest.

The nest which usually sits on the edge next to the thicket is half missing. Not destroyed, missing; the sticks have been neatly removed. You step further to find your immediate suspicions confirmed as the missing sticks have been moved deeper into the forest, out of the clearing but just visible.

Because Tinker doesn’t seem to be here, and because only half of the nest has been moved, you get the impression that she’s already given up on that idea. Why was she trying to move it in the first place? It would be warmer in the clearing since there was more chance of the sun shining down on her, something which would be helpful with her feathers still struggling to grow back and provide her with that extra layer of warmth.

The strange noise above you ceases, and you glance up just in time to see Tinker plummeting from the sky.

She twists in mid-air so as not to land on her stomach or her sides, and lets out a strangled cry when she lands on her back. You gasp in horror when you hear a crack and, forgetting your cautiousness up to this point, rush to her side.

But she is undeterred. Tinker gives a huffy squawk but rolls over slowly, standing upright and lowering herself to the ground, spreading her wings fully. You barely dodge getting hit by one of them as they take you by surprise, prompting you to stumble back.

With her wings outstretched so much, far more than ever before, you get a very good look beneath them. They are scratched, littered with old white scars and more patches of missing feathers. The one closest to you keeps twitching.

Tinker is in absolutely no condition to fly. Yet, to your horror, her front talons dig into the ground as she prepares to take flight.

“NO!” you shout. You dodge her wing again, and just as she flaps her wings you wrap your arms around her neck, forcefully keeping her grounded with your weight throwing her off balance. “You cannot fly like this! You’re just going to fall down and hurt yourself!”

Tinker’s talons tear up the ground beneath her in frustration as she twists her neck to get you off of her. Her wings move up and down weakly, trying to pick up speed and drop down at the same time. Tinker shakes her head wildly, her beak reaching around and scratching the back of your neck.

You hiss but forget the pain quickly, adrenaline pumping as your body realises what a precarious situation you’re in. While her wings are still moving you continue to hang on, refusing to let her do something so reckless in such awful condition. Tinker’s back hooves kick out in protest and she bucks forward, throwing her head back and taking you right off your feet.

It’s almost enough to throw you off but you clutch harder, refusing to be shaken. Her wings beat against the air more and more slowly, while the rest of her fights harder for freedom.

“If you’re that determined then at least let me fix you up!” you demand. Taking another stupid risk, you unhook one arm from around her neck and reach for your cloak pocket to get your wand.

Tinker isn’t taking any chances. Restrained by one less arm she suddenly rears back onto her hind legs, taking you with her. You let out a scream that gets louder when she throws herself back down violently, finally tossing you off of her.

You land awkwardly on your side, barely avoiding snapping your wand in two from your own body weight. Still, you don’t feel it, and stubbornly pick yourself up, ready for round two.

Thankfully there is no need. Tinker’s wings have stopped moving, drooping dejectedly down to the grass. Her beady eyes, however, are fixed on you. Whatever you’ve interrupted, she isn’t letting you off the hook that easily.

Tinker opens her beak and screeches, her voice a battlecry of fury. Then she charges.

You just have time to reach for your wand and point it toward her when she’s on top of you, one talon pinning your shoulder back down onto the dirt as you are forced onto your back. The other talon is raised up above you, sharp and curved.

For one awful moment, it isn’t the talon of an eagle. Instead it’s bigger, scaly, tinted grey. Tinker’s eyes flash a shade of red that doesn't belong there. You raise your wand hand up to shield your face as the claws slice down.

<>

In the spirit of Halloween, a holiday that Heimerdinger and the students always show a great deal of enthusiasm for, the great hall has been totally decked out.The floating candles have been put into pumpkins with carved faces, mostly done by all the students who hadn’t been able to attend the trip to Hogsmeade.

The fire too had been charmed to glow a bioluminescent green instead of the typical red and orange, and the tables were all covered in green and red cloth that Heimerdinger insists fits the Halloween theme and definitely isn’t meant for Christmas.

“There’s an orange cloth with black bats in one of the storage rooms, professor,” Jayce tries. He had snagged the seat next to Heimerdinger in the hopes his persistence would sway him. Mel is on Jayce’s other side, with Viktor next to her. “Red and green just suits Christmas a lot better, don’t you think?”

“Red and green is perfectly fine for Halloween!” Heimerdinger exclaims, white bushy eyebrows furrowed as if he hasn’t had this exact argument every single year since he started running Hogwarts. “Red is the colour of blood, that’s scary isn’t it? And- and green is like… Toxic fumes, like what the muggles are always showing in scientifically-fictional movies!”

“What sci-fi movies are you watching?!”

Mel taps Jayce on the shoulder, drawing his attention away instantly. “Do you know what’s the matter with those two?” she murmurs quietly, nodding subtly towards the other end of the table.

Silco and Sevika are sitting next to one another as usual, both of them silently eating their breakfast. They haven’t exchanged a word the entire morning.

The salt shaker is on Silco’s right side, while Sevika is on his left.

“Pass the salt?” she asks.

“If I say no, you’ll take it anyway,” he mutters in a bitter, unusually petty tone.
Sevika takes a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily so nobody can see them rolling, and reaches across for the salt.

“Like I said,” Silco snips.

Jayce, Mel, Viktor and Heimerdinger stare at them, taken aback by the uncharacteristic tension between the two. Grayson and Singed, sitting on the same side as Silco and Sevika, pretend not to notice.

“I’m sure they’ve just had a disagreement about something,” Jayce whispers. “Let’s just leave them alone.”

“Where are the owls?” Grayson pipes up, pulling back her sleeve to check a rose-gold watch around her wrist. “The mail is late.”

“So is… Ah, there she is,” Viktor says as you finally step through the double doors of the great hall and pass the student tables. Viktor frowns when you get closer, noting the strange mood you’re in.

You keep your head down, eyes glued to the floor but obviously not seeing it. Your cloak is wrapped tightly around you, and your feet drag on the flagged stone.

“Did you not sleep well?” Viktor asks gently, reaching over to pull your chair out for you. You barely hear him, almost collapsing into your seat and making no move to fill up your plate. “Hello? You’re not unwell?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you mutter. You shake your head and pull your chair forward, shooing his hand off the arm. “It’s fine.”

“Something wrong?”

You shake your head, brushing off Jayce’s question. “I said it’s fine. Something just has the creatures all riled up this morning.”

Viktor pokes at you a little longer but you won’t say anything else about the matter. His eyes drift from your detached expression to your cloak.

“A little early for you to be getting battle scars,” he says softly, only half-joking. “Silco may have something, if that’s the problem.” Seeing that there isn’t much else he can do, Viktor leaves you alone to dejectedly poke at some scrambled eggs.

Heimerdinger has also noticed your odd attitude. Noting how Viktor has quickly exhausted all that he can offer, he casts his deep blue eyes to Mel instead.

You look vacantly down at your empty plate as your mind wanders elsewhere, slinking around volcanic rocks and skipping over dragon scales that have been shed all across grassy plains.

Two gentle hands rest on your shoulders and rouse you from your unwitting daydreams. You shift to see Mel standing over you, smiling easily.

“I wanted to talk to you about something. If you’re not going to eat, why don’t you come with me to my classroom? It’s Saturday, so I don’t have to worry about lessons today.”

“I haven’t eaten yet…” you say weakly, but you know you can’t stomach anything right now. So you pull yourself up again and trudge behind Mel as she leads the way back past the tables and out of the great hall. She takes the familiar path past the quidditch trophy case and down the eternally twisting staircases that know better than to cause her trouble.

Mel’s classroom is set almost next door to Singed’s dreaded greenhouses, much to your surprise. Two such differing characters being so close together was nearly uncomfortable, although they never had much chance to interact despite the close quarters. Mel waits for you to catch up before placing a delicate hand on the golden doorknob and pushing the door open.

The classroom itself is both wonderful to look upon and perfectly practical, not unlike Mel herself. Twelve sizable desks have been split equally into three rows of four, each one meant to be shared between two students, and at the front on a slightly highered platform is Mel’s desk. It’s been kept neat, with a gas lamp on one side and two volumes of transfiguration textbooks stacked on top of each other.

The captivating part of the room though is undeniably the paintings. Hung up high on every wall to avoid any stray spells are beautiful portraits depicting various types of scenery. One is a field of wildflowers overlooked by a setting sun, one a sun-dappled forest, another an endless desert with a distant oasis…

You’re successfully pulled from the events of the morning as you gawk at the gorgeous landscapes, appreciating the real time ripples of natural ponds and gentle swaying of leaves and petals. “Are these… I mean, did you paint these?”

Mel hums and nods as she pushes you towards her desk. “Yes, I wanted to really make the classroom my own. They’re not too distracting in lessons and I’m quite proud of them.”

There’s a jungle too, and a cave beneath a flowing waterfall, and… And…

“Um, where’s that one from?” you ask, pointing towards one painting at the very back of the classroom. Mel follows your finger to the portrait depicting grey rocks with jagged red and orange cracks, and the ground is littered with clawed footprints.

“That one was a request,” she says shortly, looking away from it. “I’m happy with how it turned out, but I’ve never been there.”

“Oh. Wait, so have you been to all of these other places?” Imagining Mel in the depths of the jungle in her spotless white dress and high heels, you cover your mouth to prevent a chortle from escaping.

“Not all of them.” She smiles at you and reaches for a drawer in her desk, flipping through a few stray papers before finding the one she’s looking for. “I wanted to talk to you about getting the clubhouses up and running again. I think they were still active while you were at Hogwarts but I could be mistaken?”

“The clubhouses?”

The clubhouses were three enormous rooms that had been devoted to three different clubs that students usually had to pass a few requirements to be allowed into - they’d been very popular in your early years. Unfortunately you didn’t know all that much about them since you’d always preferred to keep a distance between yourself and your classmates.

“I know there were three clubhouse for one club each. Let me think… Dragon Club was sort of for ‘risk-takers’ and physical activities, like flying, duelling, that sort of thing. Sphinx Club was for doing extra activities involving history and constellations, I remember that was very popular with the ravenclaws. Then the Hippogriff Club was all about creatures, animals, plants and potion ingredients - all things to do with nature, to some degree.”

“Exactly.” Mel pushes the paper across the desk towards you. “Since we’re still a bit short on staff and can’t offer the same subjects or quality that Hogwarts used to be able to, Heimerdinger was very excited about the idea of getting these up and running again.”

“Sevika mentioned something like this,” you recall. “A little while ago she suggested I get involved with running a club since there isn’t much else for me to do outside of feeding whatever is staying in the reserve or helping out other teachers where I can.”

“I assume this was brought up during those precious five minutes where two were actually getting along?” Mel asks dryly. “We had said something about doing more clubs-wise, so I do appreciate her initiative I suppose. We are going to have a staff meeting to discuss the details more in depth soon. I thought you’d be a very good fit for handling the Hippogriff club.”

It sounds like the obvious choice on the surface but still you blink in surprise and shrink back slightly. “Erm, on my own? I don’t think I can do it alone. I mean, not at first…”

“No no, I wouldn’t dream of throwing you in the deep end like that,” Mel chuckles. “Silco and Singed will hopefully be getting involved too.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t much better. The thought of spending more time with them was… Disconcerting.

Mel puts a hand over yours in sympathy. “I know. But I would appreciate having you in the club along with them, considering their… ‘Unique’ approaches towards handling children. I won’t deny their talents in their crafts, however when it comes to the students I think having somebody warmer would do the club a lot of good.”

Unfortunately, that made a lot of sense. “Uh huh. What about the other ones?”

“Sevika and Grayson are the candidates for Dragon Club, while Jayce, Heimerdinger and I will be handling Sphinx Club.”

“How about Viktor?”

“We want to make sure he’s feeling up to it before we decide on anything.”

You pick up the paper and read through it slowly. It outlines rough plans for the subjects and activities these clubs would involve, as well as when they’d be running. The Sphinx club seems very interested in covering more history. That’s understandable - Heimerdinger is also the History of Magic professor, but his lectures tend to drone on and on about details that aren’t important in exams due to him actually living through half the events on the syllabus.

“I’ll think about it,” you say eventually. In other circumstances you might be more excited about the idea of teaching what you know about creatures to the next generation. After this morning, however, you just can’t quite seem to kick your brain into gear.

Mel takes the paper back and files it away into her drawer again. “That’ll do for now. If we get the clubhouses up to date, we could probably keep a variety of smaller creatures in there. It will have a fresh water system that we can filter throughout the room, there’s a spot put aside for a tree that would suit bowtruckles and fairies and the like…”

“Really?”

Mel takes note of how you perk up slightly. “Oh yes. Singed and Silco’s plants will also probably be a good chance to attract some other creatures or simple insects. Perhaps a few tunnels could be fitted in too, or little play areas for the more lively things like your niffler.”

“Yes, maybe… If we sectioned some of the water off and added plant life like seaweed and adjusted it for salt-water creatures maybe I could even get a kappa or two running around…”

Mel’s fear that you’ll actually go through with housing kappas in the clubroom is likely what motivates her to talk with you through the potential of these clubs for the rest of the hour. Even if little can be accomplished with ideas alone so early in this decision, at the very least the distraction is able to bring you out of your funk.

As the minutes tick closer to the end of the hour, however, you catch Mel’s hints that she has other work to do even if there are no lessons today. At first you assume she only wants you to pack up your rough drawn-up plans and give her some space, but then she puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You’ll forgive me for asking about your distressed state at breakfast?” she asks delicately. She wanted to address the issue before she had to get back to work.

You could just dismiss her concerns, wave her off and just shrug your earlier mood off as the result of a rough night's sleep. However, it wouldn’t feel right to brush her way when she’s gone through the trouble of making you feel better.

“Something’s riled up all the creatures down at the reserve,” you admit, fiddling with the sleeves of your cloak. You hadn’t taken it off in all the time you’d been in the classroom. “I was checking in on a particular creature I’ve been concerned about but in her panic she ended up scratching me a little.”

Olive eyes fix you with a discerning gaze. “I understand you’ve a lot of experience handling dangerous creatures, so I find it hard to believe you’ve never before had a scratch or two.”

“‘Course I’ve been scratched up plenty of times.” Suddenly unable to look at Mel, you instead choose to focus on her beautiful paintings, zoning in especially on the painting depicting grey rocks and clawed footprints. “I’m not upset about the scratches.”

“Well something about it has you upset.” Mel squeezes your shoulder slightly with the goal of keeping you grounded in the moment. The good intentions don’t escape you but you shrug her hand off anyway to focus on articulating yourself.

“You… Erm, you know how right before this I was working with dragons?” Mel nods. “Right before I left there was an incident. One of the dragons - a Ukrainian Ironbelly - got scared or something and went on a rampage.”

“Oh, goodness,” Mel breathes. “Those are- Was everyone okay?”

There’s an uncomfortably strained moment of silence before you can bring yourself to answer. “No. I got out fine, obviously, just needed some potions and a week to heal up. Didn’t even leave a mark. My- My trainee, however…”

Out of a strange desperation you look away from the painting and back at Mel, only to be met with eager blue eyes and a tousle of ginger hair, one hand raised over her freckled face in an over-enthusiastic salute.

You twist your neck in the other direction so quickly you fear it will snap. After a moment of ensuring you can still move your head you slowly look back.

“Are you alright?” Mel asks, her eyes wide with alarm.

“I’ll get there. Thanks for your time.”

<>

You continue to be plagued by concerns over Fief, Caramel and Tinker, although you find yourself trying
to push the latter to the back of your mind. This behaviour is so bizarre and you can’t even distract yourself by admiring the various birds outside; there are no owls, no stray pets belonging to the students that have taken it upon themselves to wander the castle. Was every single creature on edge, or had they all been spirited away in the night?

The comparison would only piss her off, but you can’t help wondering if Sevika is feeling their paranoia. The idea hits you when you accidentally bump into her in the corridors on the way back from Mel’s classroom, knocking a folder out of her hand.

“Pick that up,” she snaps before you can apologise, prompting you to shut your mouth immediately. She was in an especially crabby mood today, and you sulkily pluck the folder up off the floor. “Actually, why don’t you make yourself useful? Drop this off for Vi for me,” she says, shoving a small stack of papers into your hands despite them now being full with her folder.

“Is this homework?” you ask, trying not to drop anything. You bite down a hiss when you’re forced to press the folder against your chest to juggle it all. “Why don’t I just drop it off at Gryffindor tower?”

“Because she might ‘lose’ it. She should be over by the quidditch pitch, I know the Gryffindor team has practice about now and they reserved it a while ago.”

You raise an eyebrow disapprovingly. “You want to publicly shame her into doing it? That won’t go down great. You should just talk to her, in my opinion.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask for it,” Sevika hisses. She turns her head away and scowls - you’re learning that’s how she suppresses her growls. What’s gotten her so wound up? “Just go and give it to her.”

“Now?” You hadn’t wanted to interrupt your meeting with Mel but since you’d been able to somewhat shake off the events of the morning, you wanted to stop by the medical room.

“Are you busy?”

“Not exactly, I just… Oh, can I have some more of that potion you gave me when we got- when I slipped? Is it in your office?”

Sevika regards you with a blank expression, then reaches forward to touch the fabric of your cloak on your shoulder. “Is there a reason you’re wearing this inside? We’ve already put down the heating charms.”

“I’m not that cold, I just had a bit of a scrap with one of the creatures.” Tinker is a rather big creature, so mentioning her might make this into a bigger deal than it is. “She’d had a bit of a fright, it was my own fault,” you add quickly when Sevika raises her eyebrows.

For a moment Sevika lets you quietly squirm under her gaze. Is she annoyed at you? Probably, which you wouldn’t mind if you weren’t after something of hers.

Then she sighs and one of her hands disappears beneath her poncho, rifling around in her pocket before producing the same potion bottle from before. It was much emptier now, but there was still plenty left. “Go on. Put it back in my office later.”

“Why’d you have it on you?” you ask, taking it from her.

“Because,” she says simply. Without another word, she rudely snatches the folder from you and pushes past you to continue on her way, leaving you to scramble balancing Vi’s homework and the potion so as not to break it.

She is so damn rude all the time, you think to yourself. Then she does something almost nice like this and leaves you wondering what her deal is.

<>

The quidditch pitch is set a fair distance away from the castle at about a ten minute walk from the training grounds where Grayson holds flying lessons. It’s a great structure with six towers on either side and stands for the audiences to sit between them on a lower level. They loom over you as you approach from behind. You can just make out the sound of shouts and whistles within.

Outside the pitch, however, is a large shed which is used as the quidditch players’ changing rooms - your loophole. You didn’t want to embarrass Vi by handing her so much work she was falling behind on, especially now that you’d grown accustomed to how much of a menace she and her friends could be. The idea of being shut up in another storage cupboard is far from appealing.

So the better option was to leave them in the gryffindor changing rooms by her locker. Did you know which locker was hers? No, but you could figure it out. Although if you didn’t, having the new staff member get caught poking around the kids changing rooms would not be a good look.

Before you can even step foot inside the shed however…

“Miss! Did you come to watch practice?”

You spin around quickly, looking left and right to see absolutely nobody there.

“Up here!”

You crane your neck upwards to see Powder waving down at you from the top bench of the stands, her short blue braid and her green-striped tie hanging down. She’s shed her uniform robe, preferring instead to wear her black top with the school crest and skirt. On her right, Ekko is too distracted to say hello as he keeps his hands behind Powder, obviously worried she’d fall down. Your hand slips to your cloak pocket where your wand rests when she starts bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just dropping something off for Vi!” you call up, waving the papers. There was surely no harm in telling them. They weren’t the type to tease Vi and land you in hot water yet.

“Oh, you can come up and give them to her! They’re having a break soon!”

“Erm, well, I think I’d better leave them here actually…”

“Please? It’s just me, Ekko and Mylo up here. And Mylo is really annoying.” Powder disappears for a moment, and you can faintly hear a new squabble between her and Mylo developing. Privately, you were glad they were arguing - Powder’s meek behaviour during the first few weeks of school had you worried she’d take whatever crap Milo gave her if Vi wasn’t looking.

Unfortunately you are the adult in this situation and also a staff member. It is now literally your job to keep this behaviour in check.

“I’m coming up!” you shout reluctantly, tucking Vi’s papers under your arm. “Don’t throw each other off the stands!”

Between two of the towers is an opening to two staircases going in opposite directions. Going up the stairs on the right takes you up to the level of the stands on the same side as Ekko, Powder and Mylo.

Whatever tiff Mylo and Powder had been having had already died down as they were back to ignoring each other. Instead, Powder is talking animatedly to Ekko as he nods his head - whether it was because he was actually keeping up or just wanted her to think so was up for debate - while Mylo was clearly distracted, hunched over in his seat and staring out at the pitch.

A blur of red and gold rushes past, followed by two more. You squint to see Vi on her broomstick, legs wound around it tightly, her hands gripping hard to keep her steady. Her short hair is whipping around her face wildly as she ducks and weaves, dodging around her pursuers as she keeps herself flat against the broom.

One of the two chasing Vi is Claggor, also keeping down against his broom to pick up speed but not nearly as much as Vi. His goggles are lowered over his face, obscuring his eyes from watchers, but you get the idea he purposefully isn’t going as quickly for fear of crashing into the stands. His broom rocks to the side more than the others, making it seem like he’ll flip upside down if he isn’t careful.

The other pursuer is a girl you don’t recognise with dark skin, black lipstick and locks that remain impressively sturdy against the air resistance. Her position is between that of Vi and Claggor, hands clutching her broom as she throws herself forward. Even from afar, her eyes are filled with determination.

Vi is leading them on a chase. Despite her best efforts her broom won’t fly as quickly as theirs, forcing her to switch directions often to throw them off, violently swinging around midair - she even forces the other two to scatter when she suddenly turns to ram straight for them, a brutal scare tactic.

“Wow,” you say involuntarily, staring after them in admiration.

“I know,” Mylo sighs, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his palms. He doesn’t sound impressed so much as wistful.

You sit down by Powder and Ekko, content for now to watch. You didn’t have anywhere pressing to be anyway, although you shouldn’t linger too long so you could apply some of Sevika’s potion. The thought makes you frown and retreat a little more into your cloak.

“Is your cloak green because you’re supporting Slytherin?” Ekko asks. “I don’t think you should be watching Gryffindor practice if you are.”

“It’s green because green is a nice colour,” you respond. “There’s some gold lining too. You can count that as support for Gryffindor.”

“If showing support for Slytherin is enough to get kicked out of here, why is she allowed to stay?” Mylo grumbles, throwing Powder a spiteful glare. You couldn’t fathom how he was so bitter towards an eleven-year old. “She’s going to jinx our chances of getting to that house cup, you just watch.”

Powder huffs and swings a spindly leg forward to kick his seat from behind. “Vi is on the Gryffindor team, so I’m supporting Gryffindor! I’m going to make banners and everything!”

“Yeah, she’s obviously on our side, so she should get to stay!” Ekko insists, jumping to Powder’s defence. His school robe too has been put to one side, his white top a contrast to Powder’s black. “She’s doing more than you are.”

Mylo scoffs and holds up his red and gold striped tie. “I’m on this team through and through. Powder seems to think she can jump between teams. I bet you’ll abandon ship the second it looks like Slytherin is in the lead.”

“At least I’m on the ship, you’re just waving at it!” Powder snaps back. Mylo jumps up from his seat and Powder awkwardly raises her fists.

“Both of you sit down and stop bickering,” you say sternly, catching everyone (including yourself) by surprise. “Do you think Vi wants to see you two fooling around up here or does she want you to cheer her on?”

Mylo and Powder visibly deflate, lowering their hands like they aren’t sure where to put them. Ekko puts a hand on Powder’s shoulder to comfort her, and starts talking about painting banners again.

You don’t hear what Ekko’s new ideas are though, too distracted by a flash of dark blue under the stands seats. It’s very hard to make out - you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t jumped when you spoke up. “Who’s under there?”

“Under where?” Ekko asks. Powder giggles and elbows him in the chest.

“Under the stands - see?” You point to a gap between the seats where a head of blue hair is trying to sink down. “Caitlyn?”

Mylo whips around to make an abrupt dash for where you were pointing, reaching into the gap.

“OW! That’s my hair!”

Mylo laughs even when a loud ‘smack’ can be heard cracking across his skin, causing him to snatch his hand back. “VI! Get over here! Your cupcake’s committing foul play!”

The activity on the pitch fizzles out as everyone pulls their brooms to a halt in the air. Vi swivels around and darts up to where you’re all sitting, and where a certain Ravenclaw is desperately trying to cover her tomato-red face with her hands.

Vi squints through the gap and lets out a triumphant bark of laughter. “I don’t believe this! You're so worried about us beating you this year that you’re spying on us, Kiramman? I’m disappointed.”

“You seem perfectly happy to me,” Caitlyn murmurs irritably as she finally gives up her foiled hiding place and crawls out from beneath the stands, straightening up and brushing off her skirt. “Yes, alright, you’ve caught me, well done,” she adds sullenly.

“What the hell? What makes you think you get to show up to our practice?” A new voice joins in the confrontation, coming from the girl who had been flying with Claggor and Vi. She joins Vi in mid-air, crossing her arms over her chest. Very brave for somebody on a broomstick. “And after all those damn lectures you gave us last year!”

“It wasn’t my idea!”

“Yeah? You’re still happy to go along with it though?”

You take a second to notice Vi and the girl’s brooms, when put side by side, were different despite them being on the same team. The girl was sporting a commendable Comet 290 - one of the fastest brooms to exist back when you were a student - while Vi was seated on a Shooting Star, a broom notorious for being incredibly cheap and losing height and speed as they aged.

She must be using a school-issued one - no wonder the others were able to catch up with her so easily.

“Alright, calm down,” you say tiredly, putting two fingers to your forehead. Did your coworkers have to listen to this all the time? “Caitlyn, I’d expect you to know better than to try to cheat. You never struck me as the type.”

Caitlyn flushes harder and hangs her head, scowling as Mylo leans forward to gloat “Ooooh!” in her ear. Vi tilts her broomstick and smacks him upside the head.

“No, no,” the other girl scolds Vi. “Let him.”

“No!” you interject. Merlin, this would be easier if they’d save beating each other up for when you weren’t around to take responsibility for it. “Stop hurting each other before I start taking house points off of you. And Caitlyn…”

“I know. I apologise for spying on your practice,” Caitlyn sighs begrudgingly.

“It wouldn’t have done any good even if we hadn’t caught you,” says Claggor, who had managed to escape your notice by hovering below Vi and the other girl. “We’re just doing warm ups today since none of us had a chance to go on our brooms over the summer.”

“Oh.” Caitlyn sighs dejectedly. “I see.”

“Did you come by to cheer us on?” Vi asks, turning her broom to face you.

“I’m rooting for all of you,” you say sweetly. That sounded like the sort of thing a non-biased teacher was supposed to say - in reality you’ve never cared for quidditch. “But no, I was actually here to drop off some homework you missed. Professor Sevika told me to give it to you directly.”

Vi’s face falls as you hesitantly produce the stack of papers from your cloak.

“Wow, I thought there’d be more,” Mylo says nonchalantly. Powder takes the paper and helpfully puts them in her satchel, presumably to give to Vi after practice.

“Get that done, Vi,” the girl warns, “I don’t want whatever shit you have with Sevika to get you held back and kicked off the team.”

“Yes, Gert, I know,” Vi murmurs. Then she brightens up and looks to Caitlyn, then to you, then back to Gert. “I’ll get it done.”

It doesn’t take a genius to know Vi has already decided to use Caitlyn’s spying as leverage to get her to do her homework and is waiting for you to leave so that she can pursue her blackmail scheme. Fortunately she hasn’t said it explicitly in front of you. As far as you’re concerned, it’s not your problem.

‘Gert’ fixes Vi with a hard stare but shrugs and takes her word for it, swirling around on her broom and flying down to the pitch. “Quick break!”

“So, Miss,” Mylo starts, flashing you a toothy grin which isn’t nearly as charming as he thinks it is, “Professor Ogre treating you right?”

“Don’t say that,” you scold. “What do you mean?”

It then hits you like a ton of bricks that Mylo is probably privy to Vi and Caitlyn’s belief that you and Sevika have something going on behind the scenes. Even worse, you’re wearing the cloak you’d had on in the shop - would they notice it was the same one? Had they even clocked there was anybody else in the shop when they were talking? You’d been pretty quiet.

To your dismay somebody has clearly let Powder and Ekko in on this false information.

“I know you really like creatures, but you’re too pretty to marry an ogre, Miss,” Powder quips. The way Mylo snorts and playfully slaps Powder on the shoulder gives you whiplash. Caitlyn slaps his hand off again and begins hurriedly whispering in Powder’s ear, likely begging her to stop talking.

Shutting this conversation down might have the negative effect of confirming their suspicions. The best alternative? Play dumb.

“Marry? What, Sevika? Merlin, no, I can barely stand…” You clear your throat, pretending it was a slip of the tongue. “We barely know each other. You shouldn’t call your teachers names, Powder.”

“She calls us brats, I’ve heard her.”

“Ah, well… She shouldn’t do that…”

Caitlyn cocks her head suspiciously. “I don’t believe you barely know each other. You obviously know enough to play on her weaknesses - I’ve noticed you sprinkling seeds on her. You’re trying to set the crows on her, aren’t you?”

“Not crows specifically, I just thought it was funny when-” you cut yourself off from an actual slip of the tongue this time. You ought to start hitting yourself over the head with a book that says ‘you work here, you can’t talk to students like this’. “Are crows a weakness of hers?”

“Oh yeah, she hates them,” Vi chuckles. “She’s superstitious as hell. She doesn’t even walk under ladders, and she won’t sit at a table if it makes thirteen people.”

Sevika is superstitious? You weren’t her biggest fan but she always gave the impression of being very no-nonsense (unless she wanted to piss you off by threatening to cook Fief into a stew) and sensible. “And… She hates crows because of it?”

“In our first year a crow got into her classroom through the window and landed on her desk. She wouldn’t go near it. When the lesson was over we stayed behind and she tried to ‘wingardium-leviosa’ it back out,” Caitlyn recalls. Mylo and Vi nod along in reminiscence.

“If she asks, we know nothing about the crow that somehow got into her bedroom,” Mylo adds.

“I seriously don’t,” Claggor says quickly. Way to throw his friends under the bus but you don’t blame him.

“BREAK’S OVER!” Gert shouts from the pitch below. “Come on, we’ve only got the pitch for another forty minutes!”

“That was barely two minutes!” Vi groans, but she and Claggor turn their brooms around and dart down to join her.

“Er, I ought to get going now,” you begin.

“Wait! I wanted to ask-” Powder gets cut off as she trips over her satchel in her haste. She decides to stay put. “Have you seen Mouser? I haven’t seen her all morning.”

“Oh yeah, why didn’t we get any owl mail by the way?” Ekko asks. “I thought that was a daily thing, apart from Sundays.”

“Mouser is missing too?” you ask slowly. “Sorry, I don't know. I think something has all the animals spooked. None of you go down to the creature reserve by the way,” you add suddenly. If it weren’t for your mood this morning you would have had the sense to tell Viktor or Heimerdinger to issue a warning to students, lest they be trampled by an upset Caramel.

“What something?” Ekko queries curiously.

“Um…”

“MYLO! KNOCK IT OFF!” Vi shouts from across the field. You all turn to see Mylo dangling Powder’s school robe over the side of the stands and trying to fix it to the adjacent tower.

“Why?!” Powder squeals in dismay as she and Ekko stumble over each other to make a rush for Mylo. In moments Mylo has been pushed onto his bottom to be abused with Powder’s satchel.

Caitlyn sighs and turns to you, expecting you to step in. You, however, have seized the opportunity to slip away.

Maybe you weren’t qualified for this job after all. Thank goodness you were literally the only person who wanted it.

<>

A couple of nights later, Fief has calmed down enough to sleep on the bed with you instead of underneath it. She buries herself beneath the quilt before you’ve even slipped on your pajamas for the evening - baggy bottoms to keep warm that are rendered almost useless when you pair it with a simple black tank-top. You need to get on top of your laundry.

The quilt should keep you perfectly warm too, and you’ve left the fire on. It won’t do any harm. You push back the cover and collapse into bed. Fief crawls onto your chest the ways she’s used to, but you hiss quietly and gently push her down to your stomach instead. You pull the quilt over you both, then stretch your arms up, a lengthy yawn escaping you.

“Night, sweetie,” you murmur. Fief squeaks softly in response. She really is a sweetheart when she isn’t ruining your social life.

It’s already midnight, very late for a school night. You had procrastinated heading to bed by keeping yourself busy reading your encyclopedia and circling your favorite creatures with coloured pens. The niffler section was covered in little pink hearts in case Fief ever checks. And learns to read.

You wrap one arm around her comfortingly and your breathing slows as you relax. It’s nice to drop off to sleep in a warm bed, by a warm fire on a cold night…

Fief knows before you do. One moment she is peacefully curled up on your stomach, then next she’s tangled in the quilt, erratically squealing and honking, accidentally scratching you as she tries to make a break for it.

“For goodness-” You throw the quilt off and Fief skitters onto the floor, dashing around the room in a panic. “What the hell is your problem recently?”

Then the hut starts shaking. The mugs in the cupboards create an awful symphony of ceramic on ceramic, your mismatched chairs doing a shaky dance around the table. The quaking causes stray embers to leap from the fireplace and onto the floor.

You snatch your wand off the bedside table and point it to the fire, putting it out immediately and dowsing the hut in darkness. Then you leap off the bed and make a grab for Fief, cradling her against you and diving beneath the table.

An earthquake? At Hogwarts? Didn’t the school specifically have spells set up to prevent this sort of thing? You were under the impression that the school was unaffected by even the most devastating of natural disasters.

Fief trembles wildly in your arms and unbelievably falls silent. Even as the table shuffles around above, you whisper comfortingly down to her, holding her tight and stroking her fur with your thumb, clutching your wand alongside her.

The shaking goes on forever. Your quilt falls off the bed at some point and the stool falls over. One of the cupboard doors swing wide open and bowls begin falling out, smashing onto the floor and their fragments end up nicking your back. Fief nips your arm once or twice but you don’t let her go.

The third time she nips you is when you realise it’s finally stopped.

“Sorry,” you murmur, loosening your arms. Once again she grabs some of your top with her bill and begins failing to drag you back under the bed.

You need to check on the reserve, but you can’t leave Fief on her own. So, in spite of her squealed protests, you come out from under the table and gather her up in your arms, refusing to give her an inch. You throw your cloak over yourself, pull your boots on hurriedly, and dash out of the front door.

Fief squirms relentlessly as you hurry down the rough gravel path from your hut to the reserve, but squeaks in confusion when you come to an abrupt halt.

The blackness of the sky above isn’t enough of a cover to disguise the enormous shape soaring through the skies, two massive wings beating desperately as Caramel flees Hogwarts, disappearing into the clouds. And to think he didn’t even wait for breakfast this time.

<>

There was a mad rush in the castle halls as the groggy teachers herded their students to the great hall, reiterating that there was nothing to worry about and for the love of Merlin to stop shouting over each other. The jack-o-lanterns still hanging in the darkened hall don’t do much to calm down the younger students.

Heimerdinger in a tiny, bright blue dressing gown isn’t something you can say you’ve ever considered. At least it helps him capture the students attention.

“Please remain calm everybody!” Heimerdinger calls out over the hall, standing on top of the staff table to project better. “There is nothing to be worried about! If any of you have suffered any injuries, kindly refer to the school nurse to be checked over!”

“We have a nurse?” you whisper to Mel, who is dressed in a simple, white, floor-length night dress. Her hair is no longer tied into her bun, and flutters out like a dark, golden-flecked cloud. She keeps glancing nervously down at your stomach, which is covered by your cloak. Fief is still thrashing around in your arms wildly, biting your arms desperately. However, she likes you too much to bite you properly, so it just feels like hundreds of weak pinches on your skin.

“Something like that.” Mel points to Singed, who has his moth-bitten cloak wrapped around him to deny anybody seeing his pajamas - if he was wearing any - being tentatively approached by a few nervous students who look like they’d rather take their chances of infection. “We’re awfully short staffed.”

“Especially tonight,” you murmur. By now the students have been shepherded into sitting at their house tables so Grayson and Silco can stalk around the hall and take attendance. Silco, for whatever reason, is dressed in his usual day attire. Grayson is the staff member who got the short end of the stick, dressed in shorts and a tank top that reveals a shockingly toned form that could rival Sevika’s, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

Speaking of Sevika… She isn’t here.

You glance around the room to find her - she isn’t exactly easy to miss. The ceiling displays the sky above perfectly, so you know there isn’t a full moon tonight. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep and hadn’t noticed the earthquake.

Jayce and Viktor are absent too. They’re situated near Ravenclaw tower so Mel ought to have knocked on their doors at least.

Before you can ask Mel anything though, the hall doors creak open, and all three of them troop in with Sevika in the lead and Viktor the last. He’s leaning heavily on his cane and his skin looks paper white. Jayce’s perfect hair is askew. All of them are dressed like they typically are during the day.

Silco finishes taking attendance of those in Slytherin and Gryffindor, then makes his way over to the late group. Sevika winces when she sees him coming and Jayce not-so-subtly tries to hide behind her. Silco whispers to them with annoyance, his voice low and his hands moving in furious gestures that you don’t understand.

Heimerdinger clears his throat. “I’ve performed a quick scan of the castle and it appears a few of our usual protective spells have faded tonight - as all things do with time! - and thus are the likely cause of this sudden quake. Thank you for your cooperation, you are all free to… Return…” He trails off, starting to fidget with the end of his moustache.

Uncomfortable mutters among the students create a tense atmosphere. Powder has abandoned her place at the Slytherin table to take up the spot next to Vi at the Gryffindor table, who has one arm wrapped around her protectively.

Mel clears her throat to encourage Heimerdinger to finish his statement.

“Erm, one moment!” Heimerdinger turns around to you and Mel, lowering his voice. “Perhaps it would be better if we stayed in here for tonight? As a precaution?”

“Do you really think that’s necessary?” Mel asks in a tone that plainly states she disagrees.

“If it was simply faded spells it wouldn’t be an issue, however… It hasn’t been so long since Miss Young…”

Once again he doesn’t finish his sentence, hoping you’re able to fill in the gaps. You can see where he’s coming from - a member of staff disappeared completely less than a year ago, and spells that have protected Hogwarts probably since the beginning have only just faded now?

Mel’s brows furrow in consideration. “It is your decision, Professor.”

Heimerdinger pauses, shuffling his feet under his dressing gown. It really is small, but still oversized on him. He turns around to face the student body once more, throwing his hands up into the air the way one might do when welcoming everybody to a grand party.

“For tonight, we’ll be having a sleepover in the great hall!” he announces merrily. The announcement is met with a clashing chorus of groaning, excited giggles, and a loud “Seriously?!” from Mylo.

From where you’re standing you see Sevika’s eye twitch and she shoves a hand into her pocket. To your surprise it’s Viktor who tiredly smacks her hand when he sees her pulling out a cigarette.

<>

The staff summoned sleeping bags from a retired storage cupboard in the dungeons, more than enough for all the students present. Strict house grouping had been relaxed for the evening and the students had huddled their bags into groups so they could whisper to one another.

Vi, Mylo, Claggor, Ekko and Powder have claimed the right corner of the hall closest to the door in a rough circle. One of them had snagged a jack-o-lantern with a particularly toothy grin to sit in the middle. Deckard, the blonde slytherin prefect, keeps scowling at those who choose not to remain with their house-mates.

“We’re in the hall,” he grumbles as he sits on the steps of the staff table platform nearby where he has his own sleeping bag set up. “We should be sticking with our own houses.”

Silco is sitting where he normally does at the staff table and flipping quietly through a clipboard of student attendance. “The distraction it provides is beneficial,” he murmurs loudly enough for Deckard to hear. Deckard frowns but doesn’t breathe another word about the matter for the rest of the night.

“Lights out everyone!” Mel announces. The teachers have all their own sleeping bags against the left wall. Jayce, Heimerdinger, Viktor and Grayson are already tucked in. Heimerdinger had tactfully decided the students would sleep better if Singed were allowed to sleep in his own room.

You on the other hand are standing outside the hall with Fief still tucked under your arm and your wand raised to the ceiling. “Accio,” you chant quietly, then tuck your arm back beneath your cloak. The distance might be a little much, and being inside can dampen the spell’s effect. “Hold still, Fief, I can’t cast properly if you’re squirming like mad!”

But Fief is inconsolable. Her nips are getting more painful and it’s difficult to keep a solid hold on her rounded body. Part of you wants to give you both a break and simply set her down to find somewhere for her to calm down but now that everyone is gathered in the great hall and nobody is around to keep an eye on their shiny valuables…

Would Mel be upset if you used her as a shiny distraction?

You grunt when Sevika pushes past you and scowl at her back. “There was so much room!”

Sevika doesn’t even have the grace to turn around and acknowledge you, let alone apologise. In return, you don’t grace her with a warning.

The book zooms around the corner and flies in your direction. Its break-neck speed doesn’t give it time to swerve around Sevika, who is now directly in its path.

You wish you could see the split second of realisation on Sevika’s face. She barely has time to raise her hands up to protect her face before the book collides with her, forcing her to grunt and brace herself to keep from falling over. Amazingly she manages to grab onto it, breaking your spell.

“For fuck-” she cuts herself and looks around wildly to check for anymore flying books. “What the hell?!”

You shrug your shoulders innocently, but it’s all for nought when Sevika looks down at the title of the book.

She blinks slowly before her expression becomes familiarly stormy, her brows knitting together and her lips being pulled back in an irritated snarl. She marches back up to you and shoves the book into your chest, making Fief squeak. “Yours?”

Your hand shoots out quickly from under the cloak to snatch your creature encyclopedia. “Whoops.”

Sevika growls and turns around again to continue storming off to wherever, her poncho flourishing dramatically. At this rate Sevika would be in constant fear of the sky - first birds were being set on her, now books could start falling from the sky. The thought brings a satisfied smile to your lips.

It falls when Fief changes her target. “Don’t bite my encyclopedia!” you gasp, a hidden battle taking place beneath green fabric.

The darkness of the great hall and hushed whispers among the students make your struggle all the more embarrassing as you wrestle with Fief all the way over to your sleeping bag.

“Viktor,” you wheeze, “drugs please.”

Jayce rolls over in his bag to hide a smile and Viktor, who had already fought his way into his sleeping bag, wearily points to a little satchel bag Jayce had fetched from his room earlier. You were privy to the knowledge that Viktor would sometimes take some sleeping draught to help him drift off if his legs seized up or ached more than usual.

Mel notices you cringe as you realise you’ll have to drop either Fief or the book to grab the potion - dropping Fief could result in disaster, dropping the book would emotionally pain you - and kindly takes it upon herself to rummage through it with delicate hands until she produces a large bottle with a rounded bottom, only half-full of dark purple substance.

Jayce starts and rudely snatches it from Mel’s hands. You and Mel stare at him.

“Ah- Sorry,” he stutters, handing it back awkwardly. “I thought it was something else.”

With effort you kneel down onto your sleeping bag and angle yourself to put the book harmlessly to one side. Then, with your arms still well-covered by the cloak, you wrangle Fief down onto her back, one hand on her stomach and the other holding her head so her bill won’t nip.

“I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but we’re very close,” you reassure Jayce and Mel breathlessly. Mel hesitates but uncorks the potion bottle, tipping it slowly over Fief’s bill that you squeeze the sides of to make her open wide.

“No more than a few drops,” Viktor mutters. He isn’t even watching the commotion, only his head of hair and the back of his head visible from how much he’s tucked himself in. Snug as a bug in a rug.

Mel obediently pours a few precious drops directly into Fief's bill. They fade onto her tongue and your jaw drops when her thrashing ceases almost right away.

“You drink this regularly?!” you gape towards the back of Viktor’s head. “How long is that going to last?”

“Mm, considering her size… She may not wake up.”

“I will feed your cane to snakes.”

“Yes, yes, she’ll be up tomorrow morning. Perhaps early noon.”

<>

The fountain in the centre of the courtyard continues to run even at this time of night. The water may still be flowing well after Heimerdinger’s time; perhaps it hadn’t stopped since the very first time you’d stepped off the Hogwarts Express.

The square ledge surrounding it provides a good place to sit and you’re happy to take it up, settling with your back to the water and crossing your legs. Then you take out your precious reading material, stroking a finger affectionately down the leather spine.

Flipping the book open, you drag your finger slowly down the contents page to find the ‘Hippogriff’ chapter, then shift through the pages in search of it. It was a bad time to go anywhere near Tinker but you’d be foolish not to take the opportunity to grasp a vague direction of where to go next with her.

You can smell Sevika before you can see her -she’s become synonymous with the scent of smoking. You regretfully shut your book again when she approaches.

Is she still in a bad mood? She still has bags under her eyes, not nearly as bad as when she was going through the werewolf cycle, but still noticeable. She isn’t smoking now though. Is the smell

“I need that potion I gave you back,” she states plainly. “I saw you still haven’t put it back in my office.”

“Oh, sorry.” Truthfully you were half-hoping Sevika had forgotten all about that. You still needed it. “I’ve left it in the hut. I could ‘accio’ it but I don’t want to break it.”

“Well get it back first thing tomorrow,” she demands. You see her left hand fiddle beneath her poncho to go for the cigarette pocket, then fall away again in a surely heinous exercise in self-restraint.

“Why do you need it so bad? Did you hurt yourself? Can’t you get another one from Silco?”

“Silco’s in a shit mood with me right- none of your business,” Sevika corrects herself. “Just get it back to me.”

The way Sevika’s left hand continues to rub the edge of her pocket doesn’t escape you. It also hasn’t slipped past your notice that Sevika exclusively used muggle-cigarettes and cigars. There are plenty of magic-branded cigarettes which promote not being harmful or nearly as addicting as the muggle sort, typically marked with coloured rings all around them. You recall seeing one of your old muggle-born coworkers being stuck on the addictive muggle brands though.

“Smoking muggle-cigarettes seems like a hassle,” you say, unprompted. “Don’t potions to combat the negative effects usually have to be commissioned?”

Sevika stiffens and her nostrils flare. A few more weeks and maybe you’ll have conditioned her to do that whenever you walk in the room. “I didn’t ask your opinion. If you ever think it’s wanted, it’s not.”

You lean forward on the fountain ledge curiously. “Is that what you use the potion for?”

“Also none of your business.”

“Why would you give it to me if you needed it?”

“I didn’t know I’d need it or that you’d take so damn long returning it! Quit being so nosy.” She squints. “Why do you still have it anyway? I thought you only had a few scratches.”

“None of your business.”

“I gave you my potion for it, maybe it is my business.” She holds up her left hand before you can disagree. “I actually don’t care- shit…”

Sevika retracts her hand quickly back beneath her poncho but you’ve already caught a glimpse of a large black bruise that stands out even on her dark skin. She scowls when you jump up from the fountain ledge and put the encyclopedia to one side, miraculously forgotten.

“Leave it!” she snaps to no avail.

“How the hell have you done that?” you ask incredulously, ignoring Sevika’s protests and reaching tentatively for her poncho. Her undamaged arm shoots out and her hand wraps around your wrist firmly.

“I said leave it!” she growls - really growls - and she wrenches your wrist upwards, forcing you closer while keeping you from feeling around any more. She bares her teeth fiercely and her warm breath brushes against your cheek. “You don’t see me getting up close to you, do you?”

You blink a few times, then glance back and forth from Sevika’s hand around your wrist and her narrowed eyes. She frowns and loosens her grasp, letting you stagger backwards. You automatically go to rub your now free wrist but she didn’t grip it hard enough to really sting.

“Merlin, you’re touchy,” you mumble under your breath. You could swear you see one of her ears twitch in the split second before she takes a swipe at you. You take another quick step backwards to avoid her, but her hand catches on the bronze buttons of your cloak.

You smack her hand away hurriedly and turn all the way around to hastily do the buttons back up but Sevika has already seen it.

“Hang on.” You squeal when one hand lands on your shoulder and forcefully turns you back around to face her. “Just some scratches, huh?”

“It’s fine,” you mutter, unable to move away with Sevika’s restricting hand.

“Did you get attacked? Don’t do that, let me look,” she orders as you attempt to wriggle free again. Now that you’ve seen the bruise she doesn’t continue trying to hide it, and uses her other hand to push your cloak back. She takes a sharp intake of breath at the state of you.

You don’t blame Tinker one bit for the deep, purpled scars that run over your chest, or the bruised pecks she’d left on your arms like she’d tried to take a chunk out of you. They are unfortunately visible with only your black tank top as a cover now. You shrink back slightly when Sevika tries to run a finger over one of the bruises on your arm.

“That sensitive?” Sevika frowns at the marks. “This is what you wanted my potion for? You’ll need something much stronger than that. Ask Silco.”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone.”

“You bothered me.”

“You don’t count.”

“Hmph. Did you use ‘episkey’ on it at least?”

“Mine isn’t very good,” you admit. “And I didn’t bring a cauldron to brew some healing stuff for myself.”

There’s a pause as Sevika digests this. Then she sighs and pulls her wand out of her other pocket. “Mine’s alright. Sit down.”

In the next moment you’re sitting back down on the ledge. Your cloak has been taken off and folded up next to your book, and Sevika is leaning over you as she holds the tip of her glowing wand over your injuries, murmuring under her breath. She isn’t leering down at you and doesn’t even scold you when you wince, or make a comment when you whimper pathetically at the stinging feeling.

“You’re fine,” she mutters gruffly when you kick the fountain with the back of your shoe in reaction to the spell making contact with a particularly tender scar. “Talk to Silco tomorrow about getting a potion made up. He won’t ask questions, if you’re worried about the hippogriff.”

You’re not surprised she’s realised the real reason you didn’t ask for help earlier. “Is that why you guys get on so well?”

“Usually. Get him to make you a batch if you’re going to be doing this sort of thing regularly. Hogwarts doesn’t need any more bad press.” Sevika quickly takes her wand away when you let out another pained hiss, then hovers the tip over again more slowly. “If you’re worried about wearing him out you could knock off another ingredient on that list he gave you. What did he want again?”

She’s making you think to keep you from focusing on the pain. “Silco wants unicorn blood and dragon liver. He wasn’t specific about what kind of dragon, but it’s not like I’m going to find one in the forest.”

“But a unicorn is more likely?”

“Oh yeah, there’s definitely unicorns in - ow - in the forbidden forest, although they might have moved to some of the further reserves.” Actually, with all the creatures acting up, they may have retreated even further. “Have you noticed the creatures or animals acting weird?”

Sevika shrugs. “Owls haven’t been delivering mail for a couple days. Heimerdinger put it down to poor weather.” Finally she lets the tip of her wand go out. “Better?”

“Better.” You look down to see your scars and bruises have faded just a little bit, and you’re much less sore than before. “I was gonna read up on hippogriffs to see if I could do something about Tinker.”

“If it’s willing to do that to you, maybe you should keep your distance. Is it all the creatures acting up?”

“Yeah, think so.”

“Then what good is reading up on just her going to do?”

“No, she was acting off before all of this,” you say quickly, grabbing your encyclopedia and flipping to the hippogriff page. “She won’t eat fish.”

“... Is that it?” Sevika asks tiredly.

“I mean she’s more skittish than your average hippogriff and her nests are an absolute mess but that’s because she’s on edge all the time. She’s pretty traumatised - Viktor and I suspect she came here after escaping being hunted. Hippogriffs are obviously part bird so fish is a big part of their diet, but she absolutely refuses to eat any.”

“Horses can’t eat fish can they?” Sevika interjects. “Maybe she’s just more horse than bird.”

“I heard they can in certain regions,” you say vaguely. “I don’t know much about them. She also won’t eat ferrets, but she’ll wolf down steak.” You scan the hippogriff page quickly. “Baby hippogriffs are averse to fish from certain waters, but she’s definitely an adult. And unlike regular baby eagles, they’re better suited to cooked meat rather than raw.”

“Was the steak you gave her cooked?”

“Yeah, but the fish and ferrets weren’t. But she isn’t a baby,” you emphasise in frustration, dragging your finger over the page in search of answers. “I could understand it if she was pregnant but…”

Sevika tilts her head as you trail off. “What?” When you offer no response, instead giving the page a prolonged blank stare, she slaps your cheek lightly. “What is it?”

You shake your head and turn the page, frantically tapping the tips of your fingers against the paper. “I haven’t been able to get a good look at her stomach,” you mutter. “If she’s the type of hippogriff to lay eggs then she would have done it ages ago. But she’s been here for almost a year.”

“How long does a hippogriff pregnancy take?” Sevika asks. She seems to have forgotten how much she doesn’t care about the subject.

“In good conditions, about sixteen months. Oh, here we are - ‘in months leading up to labour, mothers may refuse food typically accustomed to their diet in favour of eating food more suitable for their young until they give birth. Similarly this may occur when the mother is in a stressful environment and is anticipating an early-induced labour.’”

An awkward silence follows your quotation from the book. Sevika opens her mouth, then shuts it in surprise when you slam the book shut and slam it hard against your forehead.

“What the fuck did you do that for?!” she demands.

“For being stupid!” You leap up from the ledge and stuff the encyclopedia under your arm. “I need to find her and check if she really is pregnant - I need to bring her cooked steak too, but I’m not sure if the kitchen is open… And, and-”

“-And Heimerdinger will lose his mind if you go out into the forbidden forest in the middle of the night when the creatures are acting up and we’ve just had an earthquake.” Sevika picks up your cloak and hands it over to you, ignoring the way your face falls. “Leave it until Silco has made you some potions. If she really is pregnant and panicking, you might not get off so easy the next time you get up close to her.”

“... Sure,” you say. Your tone is too chipper for Sevika’s liking.

“I’m walking you back to the hall.”

“What- Why?” you whine.

“To make sure you go there and stay there. I’m sick of you wandering off to go wherever has the highest chance of taking your head off.” Sevika steps forward, then stops and stomps her foot on the ground. “Come on…”

“What is it?”

“There's fucking seeds in my shoes. I don't know where they keep coming from,” she grumbles, crouching down to take her boot off and shake it empty. You look down and pretend to inspect the buttons of your cloak.

Chapter Text

The sun is mocking you. Early morning sunlight bathes the clearing in a pleasant glow set apart from the gloomy shadows of the surrounding forest.

However, that’s as far as the idyllic setting goes - the ground is littered with sticks and crushed leaves. Grass and shrubs have been unceremoniously uprooted, replaced by deep cuts that have forcefully sliced through the dirt, either out of frustration or a desperate decision to dig down.

Aside from the destroyed ground and the remains of the half-rebuilt nest, untouched by the rest of nature that has chosen to flee alongside her, there is no sign of Tinker.

Fief scampers obediently behind you as you pace back and forth and occasionally crouch down to check the nest or push through the leaves of the bushes to see if it’s somehow concealing a hippogriff five times its size.

Despite your concerns, it’s nice to have Fief with you. She is much calmer out here on the outskirts of the forbidden forest than she is in the castle or the hut. The moment she woke up from her potion-induced slumber she refused to leave your side. Teachers and students have observed with pity in their eyes as Fief clings to your back, hangs off your arm, and blinds you by trying to sit on your head.

Plus, now that every creature has disappeared for whatever reason, an overpowering sense of emptiness is permeating the reserve which makes you clutch your cloak tighter around yourself every time you visit. Fiefs company is very much appreciated.

It’s odd to think she may genuinely be the only remaining creature at Hogwarts. Grayson, following the great hall sleepover, had reported the reason none of the mail was being delivered was because the owlerry was empty. Even the student’s pets had gone into hiding.

And you still don’t know why. You grit your teeth and hold the pad of your thumb over the nail of your curled middle finger, then flick a pebble away.

It’s been three days since the earth-quake that drove off whatever creatures had been lingering - except Fief, luckily - and although Heimerdinger says he’s refreshed most of the castle’s protective charms, nothing had come back.

There’s a rustle in the bushes behind you. You stop abruptly in your tracks and snap your head to the left, half-expecting to see Tinker emerging from the foliage. Fief bumps into the back of your leg and lets out a squeak not unlike that of a dog toy.

“Oh,” you say dejectedly as black boots with copper fastenings flatten a daisy and Sevika pushes a tree branch out of her way. A brown bag is slung over her shoulder.

“What?” Sevika rounds a tree trunk and furrows her brows when she sees you.

“I thought you were a hippogriff!” you groan, crossing your arms and turning away to continue investigating the bushes.

Sevika shakes her head, refusing to dignify your complaint with a response. “Is this where you’ve been disappearing for the last few days?”

“Mhm.” You crouch a little and extend an arm to Fief, who uses it as a ladder to clamber up to your shoulder and sniff at your scarf. It was always safer to put on something extra to protect against the chill.

“Well cut it out. You have an actual job to do here, Viktor didn’t invite you to Hogwarts to do whatever you please. You’re meant to be helping.”

You shrink down into yourself slightly in embarrassment. She’s not wrong - your concern over the disappearing creatures has you terribly distracted from the work you should be doing. Although, if you’re honest with yourself, it’s not a huge difference from what you’ve been doing since you got here.

“Why are you here?” you ask, skirting around her accusations.

Sevika nods to her bag. “Full moon. I’m dropping off a change of clothes by the tree. And I don’t want to see you tonight,” she adds sternly when you look at her, your eyes shining. “Just go to bed like a normal person.”

“You’re not a normal person,” you mutter, straightening up and adjusting Fief’s place as holds onto the fabric of your cloak.

Sevika stiffens but doesn’t respond. She continues on a few steps across the clearing until she’s just beneath the trees and sheltered by shadows, then pauses a few paces from you. “Have you asked Silco for a potion yet?”

“It’s fine, it’s not giving me any trouble,” you insist. The only time the scars seem to ache is when Fief tries to sit on your chest for bed. “I don’t want to ask him for anything when I still haven’t paid off his coat or gotten his ingredients.”

“He won’t refuse to heal you if you don’t drop him off a dragon liver.” Sevika looks up at the sky in contemplation. “Maybe.”

You release a quick huff through your nose and glance at Sevika, opening your mouth to tell her once again that it’s fine and to leave it alone. Instead, your current grievances are momentarily forgotten.

The sun, deciding it hasn’t taunted you enough this morning, filters through the gaps of the leaves that Sevika is loitering beneath. She barely seems to notice, her attention turned to the side as she thinks to herself. Some sunlight takes the opportunity to fall over half of her face, making her grey eyes turn once more to a sunflower mix of green and yellow.

Sevika, out here in the forest, makes you think of a campfire. The smell of cigarette smoke lingers around her, but you could imagine it’s smoke from a small pit of flames set up in the middle of the night.

Her small act of sitting you down and healing you a few nights ago, even letting you ramble on about Tinker and hippogriff diets without dismissing you or rolling her eyes, had come dangerously close to resembling something like warmth. Temperature wise, it was always emanating from her in a deceivingly comfortable way, only for her to remind you just how cold she could be.

Since her mistreatment of Fief you’d been determined to see her as somebody you didn’t want to be involved with, strengthened by her distant behavior and general dislike of the people around her. Sure, you weren’t always a huge people person, but you weren’t nearly as vocal about it.

Her transformation into a massive, extremely deadly wolf, however, had admittedly endeared you massively when you’d first found out. Claw had been utterly adorable in your eyes until she’d changed back into Sevika.

The glint of copper on her boots from the sunlight might give the impression of embers escaping from the blaze to leave tiny remainders in the bare dirt…

It reminds Fief, however, of how long it’s been since she’s snagged a shiny, forbidden treasure.

One blink and she’s launched herself from your shoulder. She doesn’t stumble when she hits the ground and continues on in a fluid motion, her bill opening as she nears Sevika’s boots like she’s going to eat them for dinner.

“Fief!” you gasp and reach for her. Sevika snaps out of her head and stumbles backwards when she notices Fief dashing for her. Your eyes widen in horror as she picks one foot up and swings it back. “Kick her again and I’ll smack you!” you warn.

Sevika scoffs and slowly lowers her foot, to your relief, but bends to grab Fief by the scruff of her neck and sweep her off the ground entirely just before she can even touch her. “How come everything except this little rat took off?” she sneers, revealing a small tooth gap in her front teeth as she shakes Fief and forces a few distressed squeaks out of her.

“Stop it!” you snap, hurrying towards her. Sevika gives Fief another shake for good measure and tosses her directly into your arms. You catch Fief neatly, kissing the top of her little black head soothingly and shooting Sevika a glare full of silver daggers. Obviously you were sorely mistaken about this woman having even a lick of warmth.

Sevika wrinkles her nose. “Are there new flowers here or something? What’s that smell?”

You gently move Fief back up to tremble on your shoulder, where you suspect she’ll stay this time. “Why? Does it smell bad? I like it.”

“Is it you?”

“Yeah, it’s a perfume I picked up from Hogsmeade. Fief likes it, don’t you girl?” you coo, holding your wrist up to Fief. She’s unfortunately too traumatised to respond appropriately so you drop it again. “I like it.”

“What is it? It sticks out, a lot.”

You squint up at Sevika. “I had another question about the werewolf thing.”

“No.” She says it like a statement rather than a response. “Why are you even wearing perfume? You’re in the forbidden forest and your only company is that thing.”

The way Sevika refuses to note Fief by name or species - even though she absolutely knows exactly they are - grates on you in the most irritating way.

“If Fief ends up disappearing for some reason or gets lost, I want a distinguishable scent so that she knows where to find me. The same would go for the other creatures if I’d started putting it on earlier, but I forgot.” You hold your wrist up again for Sevika this time, her crimes against Fief slipping from your mind for the occasion. “It’s vanilla and pink carnations.”

Sevika frowns at your hand, refusing to smell the perfume, and after a moment you lower it awkwardly and instead reach up to run your fingers over Fief’s back. A strained silence follows, just for a few seconds, but it’s a surprise to you that she’s the one to break it.

“Don’t forget it’s quidditch today. We all have to go, Grayson’s strict about it.”

“I remember.” You’d actually written the date down after you went to see Vi during her quidditch practice. Of course it wouldn’t be professional as a teacher who isn’t technically bound to a house, despite your slytherin origins, to root for anybody in particular. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see gryffindor succeed - partially out of growing fondness for Vi and her little squad, partially because you don’t want Mylo to find a way to blame Powder if they lose.

“Good. And after that, go ask Viktor for something to do. It’s about time you make yourself useful - there’s nothing down here to care for.”

“You’re down here for a few nights, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a creature,” Sevika snaps, her eyes flashing with annoyance rather than the shade of sunflowers. She shoots Fief another dirty look, like her existence is a personal insult, and continues on through the forest, leaving you in the clearing.

You practically hold your breath as she disappears into the trees, then take Fief down from your shoulder to cuddle her close. “If she ever tries to eat you alive, go for the uvula. With any luck, she’ll choke you up and die.”

<>

“Mm jes sayen,” Mylo garbles through a helping of bacon and scrambled eggs,” ef you need-”

Claggor shoves a napkin into Mylo’s face, forcing him to shut up. “Chew, then swallow, then talk. Or is that too much to remember?”

“You luctre ne, ut ot hrr?!” Mylo shoves a finger towards Powder and earns himself another napkin to the face from Vi across the table

“Lay off it for five minutes,” she chastises. “She can sit where she wants. Powder’s supporting us anyway, isn’t she?”

The great hall is buzzing with anticipation over the upcoming quidditch match of the school year; gryffindor versus hufflepuff. It’s not the most exciting rivalry but competition between the houses always lights a fire beneath the students.

Ever since the year started, Powder has been pushing the line of house etiquette. Most of the time it’s not taken too seriously. But today Powder has chosen to sit with Vi once more at the gryffindor table in a show of support - even her nails have been painted in red and gold. A few slytherins throw her contemptuous glances, including Deckard, who is so distracted that his fork keeps missing his hashbrowns.

Mylo takes a large gulp to swallow his breakfast. “Yeah, because she’s such an asset,” he mutters, now empty. He dodges another napkin tossed at him by Ekko to keep it that way.

“What were you trying to say? If it’s more complaints, I don’t want to hear it,” Vi says firmly.

“No, no, I was just gonna say-” Mylo stops to reach beneath the table and fumble around in his satchel, then produces a big book with an obnoxious bright orange cover, “if you need some extra ‘support’ other than Powder’s itty bitty little face, I’ll be in the stands.”

Powder and Ekko lean closer in curiosity, only for it to be squandered when Claggor grabs the book from Mylo and shoves it back in his bag while Vi reaches across the table. Mylo veers violently backwards to avoid being backhanded.

“Don’t pull out that stupid book now, people will think we’re trying to cheat!” Vi hisses.

“What is it?” Ekko asks.

“It’s a hex book he bought from a joke shop in Hogsmeade,” Claggor clarifies, shaking his head tiredly. “I don’t know why he’s getting it out, he hasn’t managed to pull any of them off.”

“Yeah I have - I conjured up a jinx that I can’t get rid of, and I’d like to give it back to the slytherins,” Mylo grumbles. Vi changes tactics and opts to kick him harshly under the table. “Ow!”

“We don’t need hexes, charms, or jinxes to win a quidditch match,” Vi declares. Powder and Ekko nod frantically at her side despite having only seen her and Claggor during independent practice.

“Of course you don’t,” Mylo agrees quickly. “You’ve totally got this handled. I was just thinking that the hufflepuff has a new, pretty popular seeker. Plus, I heard Scar - their captain, you know him right? - he went away over the summer to do some intense quidditch training.”

“How intense can it be? We’re playing for school, not the big leagues,” Claggor points out.

Powder swallows a piece of buttered toast and fixes Mylo with a scrutinising gaze. “If you think Vi and Claggor have the match handled, do you think Gert needs help? We could talk to her about that…”

Mylo’s thick eyebrows shoot up and he begins furiously backtracking, fumbling over his words and kicking his bag to hide the book from sight completely. You watch the scene unfold from your place at the staff table, unable to hear what’s going on, but you’ve grown a sick sense of satisfaction whenever Mylo finds himself on the short end of the stick.

Jayce is sitting next to you, drumming his fingers on the side of his chair and looking over the student body. “I love these sort of mornings,” he says wistfully. “Reminds me of when I played for my house.”

“You were in gryffindor weren’t you? I think Viktor mentioned that you were on the team,” you wonder, slipping a blueberry to Fief, who is curled up in your lap. She’s oddly subdued compared to how she was only an hour or so ago - maybe she was already tired out and needed to exercise more?

Jayce nods and flashes his shiny teeth in a brilliant smile. You cover Fief’s eyes to prevent her from lunging. “I was our seeker. I was on the team for four years… Though I do envy these kids. If I’d had Grayson as a flying teacher back then, I would have been unstoppable.”

“How do you like gryffindor’s current team?” you ask. “I’ve seen a few of the kids during practice.”

“I’d say Vi is their best player. She was a seeker when she joined, but now she and Gert are the team’s beaters, and they’re… Pretty terrifying, if I’m being honest. Gert is the team captain.”

“Oh, I see. How about Claggor?”

“Claggor is the keeper. He’s a good defender and communicator, and he’s got a good handle on his broom in almost every situation. I’ve never seen him lose control of it for a moment.”

Fief nudges your hand and you pass down another blueberry. “And Caitlyn’s on the ravenclaw team…” you recall thoughtfully. It had been just over a week since Caitlyn had been caught attempting to spy on the gryffindor quidditch team. You’d decided not to mention it to the other teachers - you didn’t think it would get her in a ton of trouble, but the scolding she’d received from Gert and Vi probably blackmailing her into doing the homework Sevika had set for her was punishment enough in your opinion.

“She’s fantastic!” Jayce exclaims. “I think she’ll be made the team captain this year or the next. Caitlyn has a real eye for strategy and analysis. There’s a corkboard in her room devoted entirely to possible quidditch plays.”

It takes a second for you to remember that Jayce acts as Caitlyn’s tutor both at Hogwarts and at her home. “Have you had much tutoring with her this year?”

“Yes, two times a week, as usual. But I can tell she’s getting bored.”

You glance to the ravenclaw table and scan it until you spot the telltale dark blue hair paired with sharp blue eyes. From what you’ve seen of her this year she’s definitely bright - not an uncommon trait among ravenclaws by any means - and she’s certainly eager to apply herself. She always performed well during Sevika’s dementor classes, even during that one occasion where she hesitated and had to be encouraged by Vi.

Caitlyn and Vi’s relationship is something you probably shouldn’t care about as you are part of staff and not some petty school girl hungry for gossip, but between worrying about creatures, worrying about Tinker’s possible pregnancy, Viktor’s flip-flopping health, your promise of ingredients to Silco and whatever the hell is going on with Sevika at any given time, you didn’t mind the small distraction. They were wildly different individuals whose mutual interest in competition - and probably each other, they were hardly subtle - was entertaining to watch from afar.

“Vi’s sister is a bit of a surprise.”

You and Jayce jump slightly as Mel inserts herself into the other chair next to you and into the conversation.

“Powder? What do you mean?” you ask.

Mel puts her elbows on the table and rests her mouth against her intertwined hands, speaking quietly so you are both forced to lean in to hear her better. “I’d never speak ill of students, and Powder seems very bright in most regards. But for having such a skilled older sister and having only arrived at Hogwarts recently, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many things go awry for one person in such a short space of time.”

“Is this about the… Chair incident?” You can vaguely recall Sevika saying something about Powder accidentally spelling a chair out of the window a while ago.

“Not only that. She’s blown up two of Silco’s cauldrons as well as her own, she accidentally grew so many weeds in one of Singed’s classes that he had to move them to another greenhouse, and she almost took out one of my paintings the other day.”

Jayce cocks his head. “In transfiguration? What were you doing during the lesson?”

“Turning beetles into buttons.” Mel shakes her head. “I’ve overheard young Mylo complaining that this sort of thing was commonplace even before she came here. I was actually going to talk to you, Jayce, about checking if she’s been jinxed.”

“Don’t listen to Mylo, he’s always complaining about Powder,” you grumble. “And not everything goes wrong for her. She got a whole bunch of fairy wings for Silco, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did. Under your supervision,” says Mel slowly. Jayce raises an eyebrow at you.

“Do you really think I’m the type to pluck fairy wings?”

Mel and Jayce exchange sceptical glances. Truthfully, there could be nobody less inclined to negatively interfere with creatures.

Leaving them to their contemplation, you lean forward to look past Jayce and along the rest of a table, something that is becoming a daily ritual. A quick glance at your fellow staff members in the morning gives a general idea of their attitude towards the day ahead, and another one in the evening gives an even better idea of how it unfolded.

Heimerdinger is chatting enthusiastically with Grayson, who is as composed as she usually is but her eyes keep shifting to the house tables. She’s probably more interested in the results of the quidditch match than any of the other teachers. Part of you wonders if it will reflect on her, since she is the flying teacher. Heimerdinger always gets excited no matter who is playing. There was one time, in your fourth or fifth year, when he’d accidentally fallen out of the stands when leaning too far over the side. Luckily he was caught by one of the players.

Singed and Silco are murmuring with each other. Since you’ve been here, Silco has proved incapable of talking to another person without acting as though he’s telling them private secrets of the universe that he ought not to be privy too.

Both Silco and Singed are wearing their coats for the match. You’ve always felt they look oddly alike with their abnormal eyes, pale skin and skinny forms, so the contrast between Silco’s fancy black and red coat - missing the gold buttons that it had at the very beginning of the year, although you’re sure Fief only tore off one or two - and Singed’s shabby brown coat is jarring.

Sevika still isn’t here, perhaps lingering in the forest to set up for her transformation for tonight. Viktor is also absent despite earlier assurances that he would walk down to the pitch with everybody else.

“Viktor’s fine,” Jayce says, noting your wary glances towards Viktor’s empty seat, “he’s just having trouble with his leg. He said he’ll be down.”

You rest your head back against your chair and scratch idly underneath Fief’s bill. Viktor’s health has fluctuated a fair bit in the last couple of months, however nothing too serious has taken place. That was probably a sign you didn’t need to worry. On the other hand, you’d seen just how serious it could get.

“And who will you be cheering for?” The golden chimes of Mel’s voice puts your ever-spiralling mind on pause.

“Am I allowed to cheer for anybody? I’m not part of a house.”

“Well, maybe don’t be so blatant in front of the students, but it’s natural to have favourites. I enjoy watching the gryffindor team most, especially when they’re backed into a corner and start acting like furious wild cats.”

“I don’t know if that’s the same as rooting for them.”

Mel pauses and looks you over. "You smell nice. New perfume?"

"Mhm. Vanilla and carnations, I picked it up at Hogsmeade."

"Are you wearing it for the game?"

"No, it's for creatures."

"... Ah."

Twenty minutes later, Grayson gets up from her place at the table and calls for those who are playing in the match to follow her. Vi, Claggor and Gert, along with eleven other students who have remained nameless to you so far, spring from their seats and clamber over their housemates in a hurry. Grayson reaches the doors before they do, and waits for them to form two orderly lines behind her. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen them so well behaved.

Powder waves wildly from the gryffindor table, earning a grin from Vi and more scowls from her fellow slytherins.

“I’m rooting for gryffindor,” you say decidedly.

<>

Fief wiggles in your arms when you get up from the table a short while later and join in the rest of the students and teachers in a hopelessly disorganised throng out of the great hall and through the corridors on the way to the match, but once you’re out in the fresh air she noticeably relaxes and escapes your grasp to take her place once more on your shoulder.

“She’s perked up,” Jayce notes as he walks on one side of you, offering up another berry he’d taken from the hall to the niffler. “Does she not like being inside?”

“It’s never been a problem before.” You put your hand to your chin thoughtfully. “She’s always so quiet whenever she’s in the castle now. Especially after the earthquake.”

“Was it the earthquake that scared her?” Mel suggests from your other side. “I remember she was in an awful state during the sleepover and had to take some of Viktor’s medicine.”

You frown down at the ground as you progress now across the training fields. Most of the staff is walking just behind the mass of students as a way to keep an eye on them, but you’re far too distracted now.

“There was a night before the earthquake. Right before most of the creatures went missing - Fief had a freakout and kept hiding under the bed. And Caramel was really skittish too.
Mel squints and looks at Jayce, who mouths ‘giant horse’. “Perhaps they could sense it coming?”

“Maybe…” But even as you say it, it doesn’t feel right. “There wasn’t a lot of damage though. If it was more destructive I could understand. But it’s been three days and not even the birds have come back.”

“What about birds?”

You pause and turn back to see Viktor slowly making his way over to you. He’s using his cane like a crutch again and there’s a nearly imperceptible wince every time he takes a step. His hair isn’t messy, however it’s not as well groomed as it could be.

“Oh Viktor, you look deathly pale.” Mel furrows her brows and olive eyes fill with concern. She and Jayce stop to wait with you for Viktor to catch up. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit this one out?”

Viktor shakes his head as he nears you. “I have enough strength for a quidditch match. I’m not getting on a broom.”

“I think it’s about time you switch out the cane, Viktor,” Jayce suggests, as if he has a right to. You suck in a breath at his comment.

Viktor’s jaw clenches but he doesn’t fulfill your expectations of hitting Jayce over the head with said cane or even snapping at him. “Perhaps next year. This will do for now.”

Jayce opens his mouth to say something more. Then he changes his mind and looks back at you. “Do you think there’s something here keeping the creatures away? Something that’s scaring them off?”

You hum thoughtfully. “It’s plausible, but I’m not… Sure…” You tilt your head to better see Fief. She’s perfectly content now, keeping her beady eyes fixed on Mel, who shifts uncomfortably under the Niffler’s gaze. “Not for you,” you scold. “Paws to yourself.”

“Paws?” Jayce mutters under his breath, squinting at Fief’s feet.

The beginnings of a theory stews quietly away in your head as the crowd reaches the tail end of the training grounds and begins filing into the quidditch stands. Fief is too busy clinging onto you in the midst of bustling students to stare at Mel’s shiny golden accessories or Jayce’s shiny teeth. There’s a lot of shouting from excited kids and teachers trying to organise them.

Finally you find yourself in a box in the stands separate from and higher up than where the students are directed. You’re set at one end of the pitch behind the three goal posts - Hufflepuff’s if you’re not mistaken.

Heimerdinger squeezes past you to take his favorite spot in the corner of the box where he can easily lean over for a better look and try not to fall to his doom. Jayce notices and slides into the seat next to him, likely so he’s close enough to catch Heimerdinger.

Mel sits behind Heimerdinger and reaches over to pat the spot next to her, as a suggestion that you sit with her, but she hesitates when Fief’s bill chatters excitedly.

You sit next to Jayce and move Fief onto her lap, hiding Mel from her view. Then you unwrap your scarf and pass it to Jayce.

“Um- Are you not cold?” he asks awkwardly.

“I thought you might be,” you say sweetly. “The cold isn’t good for teeth.” You brighten up as if you’d just remembered some obscure piece of information. “I once heard the cold is especially bad for charms. Apparently it can dampen them on things like bones or general human bits and pieces.”
“Where did you hear that from?”

“Some old wives' tale my mother used to tell me. She’s always saying things like that, but I like to listen just in case. She’s been proven right around sixty percent of the time,” you lie. Viktor, who has settled next to Mel and behind Jayce, raises an eyebrow you can’t see.

Jayce turns the other way and fiddles with the scarf. After a few moments he succumbs and wraps it up around his neck and so it covers his mouth reminiscent of Singed’s recent style. You just knew they couldn’t be natural.

You’re about to congratulate yourself on a job well done of hiding Fief from her beloved shinies when Grayson sits down on your other side with her back straight as a soldier, a shining silver whistle hanging from her neck over her blue jacket and gold buttons. She sets a heavy leather bag down at her feet that she must have grabbed from the shed outside the pitch after dropping off the players.

Fief innocently lays her head on your arm while conveniently facing Grayson straight on.

“Don’t start,” you mutter to her quietly, knowing she’ll take no notice.

Grayson, however, does. She glances down at your lap where Fief resides and frowns disapprovingly. Incredibly, Fief whines and waddles in circles a few times before curling up and hiding her face behind her stumpy tail.

“What…” You look incredulously between Fief and Grayson. “How did you do that? I can’t even do that!”

“Teach me next,” a gruff voice intercepts. You roll your eyes like it’s a reflex when Sevika sits behind you on Viktor’s other side. Silco appears next and takes the spot next to her, leaving Singed to squeeze in next to Grayson.

Grayson frowns over her shoulder at Sevika. “Has it been giving you trouble?”

“No,” you snap, putting a protective hand over Fief and choosing to keep your head turned away from Sevika. “She’s the picture of good behaviour with everybody.”

“On another note, are you going to be paying Silco back for his coat or not?” Sevika asks. The sound of something scratching onto something else sounds behind you.

“I’m already paying him back,” you grumble. You’re not wrong, even if the daunting task of getting that unicorn blood and dragon liver plagues you in the middle of the night sometimes.

“Mhm.” There’s a slight pause and what sounds like a quiet intake of breath. “... Do you think rats make good rugs?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you demand, whipping round in your seat. Two seconds too late, you realise you’ve been baited. Sevika leans forward and blows a powerful cloud of cigarette smoke directly into your face, making your eyes water.

“I’ve never known you to be so childish, Sevika,” Silco comments back-handedly as you begin hacking into your cloak and freaking the hell out of Fief. Sevika shrugs but leans back to direct her smoke at the sky now, subdued by the subtle scolding. Silco reaches into his coat for two cigars, offering one out to Sevika as an enticing replacement. Perhaps a truce for whatever argument they’d been having the other day.

Switching your attention to the pitch for a better way to ignore Sevika, the crowd of waiting students suddenly cheers in chorus as the players walk onto the field, clad in their quidditch uniforms and house colours, each with broomsticks of varying quality clasped in their hands. Vi’s pink hair blends a little with her red uniform.

You spend some time searching for Powder in the gryffindor stands but surprisingly the slytherin section is where you find her. Her blue braid jumps around her shoulders with her as she hops excitedly in place, closely watched by a grump Deckard. The kid’s tough, even for a prefect.

Grayson waits until the players have lined up across from their opposing teams, broomsticks at the ready. She stands up and puts the tip of her wand to her neck, murmuring a spell.

“I want a clean match.” The command of her gravelly voice booms all around the stadium, sending those in the stands into another short frenzy and Fief beneath the comfort of your cloak. “This is the first match of the year - play fair, and play well.”

Grayson holds her wand out to you and you take it hesitantly. As she bends down to retrieve the box, you swear somebody in the stands jokingly calls for you to “give the niffler the mic! We want to know what she has to say!” Unfortunately for them, Fief is in no mood.

Grayson snaps the box open, revealing four balls of varying sizes. Two are chained down and clearly struggling against their confines. The largest of them is centred between these two and sitting much more calmly. The top compartment of the lid holds the smallest ball, as big as a walnut and made of pure gold. Grayson selects the biggest ball - the quaffle - and throws it up into the air.

The quaffle soars through the air all the way down to pitch and comes to an abrupt halt in mid-air, centered between the two teams.

The crowd holds their breath in anticipation as Grayson takes hold of the silver whistle and brings it to her lips. She lets the silence sit for another dramatic moment until Mel clears her throat, and she blows.

Gert kicks off the ground and barely manages to snatch the quaffle before the opposing team’s captain, and the game is on. Claggor, Vi and everybody is off, zooming around wildly in the air.

Quidditch strategy and knowledge in general has never been your strong suit. Even now your hands slip under your cloak to run your fingers through Fief’s short fur in an attempt to keep yourself occupied and pay attention. You know the basics - scoring with the quaffle earns a team ten points, beaters need to bat away the bludgers from interfering or beheading the students (seriously, who is into games where a core part of it is the thrill of getting your head taken off? Everybody, apparently.), and the seeker who catches the golden snitch will earn their team an outrageous hundred and fifty points.

Kids trying not to get bludgeoned and scoring the quaffle as much as possible because the second the snitch is caught you're ninety percent to lose just isn't your scene. Honestly, why bother with the game at all? Just set out the snitch and go nuts.

“Are you very invested in the game, or lost in thought again?” Singed asks across from Grayson.

“I'm paying attention,” you lie.

“Who just scored?” Sevika asks.

“Err… Gryffindor. Obviously.”

“Nobody’s scored yet.”

You scowl and take your hands off Fief to keep from squeezing her. “I meant they'll probably score first.”

“They don't need to score at all. Winona’s sure to get to the snitch first,” Sevika comments. Winona must be a seeker.

“Not necessarily,” Mel chimes in. “The points you get in each game matter towards the quidditch cup. You don't have to win every match to win it, you just need to have scored the most points.”

“So… if the seeker catches the snitch three times from games with Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Ravenclaw, she'd have earned four hundred and fifty points. Sounds like she'd get the cup all on her own,” you say slowly.

“Perhaps. But, say in the third round against Slytherin, she had scored two snitches but the team hadn't scored anything with quaffles, leaving them at three hundred points, and the other team had also caught two snitches but over the previous games had scored over fifteen goals. Even if Winona were to catch the snitch, they would lose the cup if they don't score at all during the game,” Grayson explains carefully, keeping her hawk eyes fixed on the ongoing match.

“I still think a hundred and fifty points is a bit much,” you murmur. Sevika hums quietly behind you in what sounds suspiciously like agreement.

Mel looks at Sevika. “Is there a muggle-equivalent to quidditch? Every year I have students compare it to… Baskets?”

“Basket ball?” Sevika drums her fingers on her thigh in consideration. “I can see how quidditch is like basketball - score balls through hoops. Less chance of getting killed or scoring ten points, let alone a hundred and fifty. Football is probably the most popular sport in the muggle world though.”

You turn slightly in your seat, curious. “Football? I thought muggles had ‘soccer’ or something.”

Sevika groans, like this is a subject she has personal stake in. “You kick a ball around with your feet, it's football!”

“I didn't say it wasn't.” You squint. “Do you know much about the muggle world?”

“She's half-and-half,” Jayce says casually as he leans forward in his seat alongside Heimerdinger, both of them totally absorbed in the game but present enough to comment on your conversation. Sevika’s nose flares slightly and she takes another drag on her cigarette before she dares treat herself to the cigar.

Pretending to lose interest you turn your attention to the game for real this time. Next to you, Grayson - who has taken her wand back - taps her wand against the chains withholding the bludgers. The moment they are free, one goes straight for the quidditch players. The other…

You swerve violently backwards into Jayce, causing a domino effect that sends Heimerdinger toppling over onto the floor. But Sevika is fast, and throws a large hand out to block the second bludger from going straight for your head and forcing it to redirect to the players.

When somebody saves you from having your head battered in, common courtesy dictates you say thank you.

“You've got big fuckin’ hands,” you murmur instead, and send Jayce backwards again to avoid Viktor swiping you with his cane for your poor manners.

A cheer erupts from the crowd below and you realise you've missed the first goal. “Ten points to Gryffindor!” Grayson announces from the box, her voice echoing around the stadium.

You scramble off of Jayce again and squint down at the pitch in time to catch Gert high-fiving Claggor - oh, what was everybody's position again? Gert was the captain, although that's not really a position, Claggor was the goalkeeper…

Vi’s broom dips suddenly to avoid an incoming bludger. When it rounds on her again to take another shot at beheading her, she raises a bat and smacks it hard, sending it straight into the underbelly of the stands. Powder lets out an enthusiastic ‘Whoop!’

Yeah, this game really isn't for you.

You cuddle Fief close, letting your mind slip into its usual buzzing stream. You should be showing more interest, but you're preoccupied as your thoughts drift back to Fief's behaviour.

“Ten points to Hufflepuff!”

Even now in the stadium she isn't acting nearly as standoffish as she does in the castle now. In such a loud and high up environment, you'd think she would be handling it better than being on ground level.

Why would she be skittish in the castle then? You count on your fingers possible incidents that may have put Fief off.

There was the time Sevika kicked her - and had still not received an apology.

Sevika blinks at your sudden glare at her over your shoulder. “What?”

You shrug and look back down at Fief without a word. Sevika looks to Viktor in hopes he'll clarify, but he's too focused on keeping an eye on Heimerdinger in case he falls over the side.

Anyway; there was the time Sevika kicked Fief, the time Sevika had scared Fief after she'd gone out of her way to grab your wand and take it all the way down to the dungeons to free you from the storage room, and during that extra icy period between you and Sevika she'd been giving Fief especially dirty looks that made your poor niffler tremble. Then there was this morning…

“What?” Sevika snaps as you throw her another brief, disdainful glance.

You're getting off topic - you need to focus on events in the castle, not Sevika for whatever reason. What else was there?

… Seriously, what else was there? There wasn't any other particular thing you could pinpoint as a source of Fief’s sudden fear of the place. You close your eyes and take a deep breath to keep from shooting Sevika another look.

“Another ten points to Hufflepuff! Excellent play!”

Fief purrs as you delicately scratch her belly, oblivious to the cogs turning in your mind. Fief was generally happy in the forest, more so when you went deeper in, so it probably wasn't related to all other creatures in the vicinity disappearing completely.

Although…

Your mind flashes back to that night Fief had fled from the bed to hide underneath it, days before the earthquake had even happened. The next morning, many of the creatures had disappeared and Caramel had been on edge. When the earthquake struck, all the creatures were gone apart from Fief, who has been much more shaky within the castle ever since.

“Another ten points to Hufflepuff!”

Her fear of the castle had started when all the creatures had first gotten tiled up. Did that mean something within the castle could be responsible not just for Fief’s distress but every creature?

You frown down at your feet in concentration. On one hand you feel like you're grasping at straws. On the other hand, there's been nothing else to grab onto so far.

Okay, say something in the castle was the cause of all that - what would it be? It couldn't be the earthquake itself since the creatures were acting up before that happened, but it could be connected… Maybe it was to do with the protective charms Heimerdinger had mentioned fading?

Fief wiggles about in your arms, nudging your fingers in demand for more scratches. You blink down at her slowly.

Fief could show you where the source of the problem was.

“Aha!” Fief squeaks as you pick her up to squish her against your chest, then wince and take her off as you feel the scratches left by Tinker.

“Ten more points to Hufflepuff!” Grayson announces, then puts her wand down. “Something wrong?” she asks you.

One of your fingers pokes a spot on Fief’s stomach. She wiggles again in discomfort, then lets out a small burp.

“I think my niffler is a bit under the weather. I don’t want to leave in the middle of a match, but I’d like to get her back to the hut,” you sigh, gently tapping Fief’s little head.

“She looks alright,” Viktor says, peering over your shoulder and crushing your plans without intent and yet without mercy. “The snitch is about to be released, I’m sure she’ll be okay until the end of the game.”

Gargoyles. “I suppose,” you murmur. You poke her again to produce another small burp, in hope of subtly gaining sympathy. You get none.

Grayson takes hold of the golden snitch from the box and holds it up into the air. She pauses, waiting for a good opening where the players weren’t nearing a goal on either side, then presses it between her fingers. Two tiny wings unwrap from around the ball, thin and seemingly fragile, but they begin to beat at breakneck speed at once. Grayson lets it go and puts her wand back to her throat. “The snitch is loose!”

The players on their broomsticks suddenly switch up their strategy. Vi immediately veers into another direction and zips towards the hufflepuff seeker. Gert does the same, and they surround her, lingering beneath or above her, occasionally dashing directly into her path to force her to change direction.

“They’re trying to stop her from finding the snitch and chasing after it,” Mel muses, putting a hand to her chin. “Risky for the beaters to stay by a player from the opposing team. They need to keep the bludgers away from their own teammates.”

“I think the gryffindor seeker got an especially fast broom for this year. They’re probably betting on it being able to outfly the bludgers?” Jayce wonders.

Grayson shakes her head. “No broomstick yet exists that can outfly a bludger. Not for long, anyway.”

“What about the goal keeper and the… others? Are they counting on all of them just avoiding the bludgers for the rest of the game?” you ask.

“Chasers,” Jayce supplies helpfully. “It’s not a great strategy, but I can see why gryffindor would want to get the snitch quickly now that hufflepuff is thirty points ahead.”

You start. “They are?”

“Where have you been this whole time?” Sevika demands incredulously. “You’re sitting next to the referee!”

A gold flash makes itself known near the hufflepuff seeker as she struggles to outpace Vi and Gert. She quickly serves around Gert and shoots straight for the snitch with Vi hot on her trail.

The seeker reaches out a hand, the snitch is already in reach, but Vi is right next to her, surely about to intervene…

Vi’s broom jolts upwards and moves into a barrel roll, knocking into the hufflepuff and almost sending her to the ground.

“Vi!” Gert shouts admonishingly.

“That is foul play!” Grayson announces. The declaration sends gryffindor house into a chorus of groans.

Mel crosses one leg over the other and tilts her head. “That's out of character,” she murmurs.

You've never seen Vi in a quidditch match before today but it doesn't seem that strange for her to adopt a more brutal strategy. However the other teachers are nodding along with Mel, so what do you know?

“What is she doing now?” Jayce sighs as Vi’s carries on rolling through the air, then comes to an abrupt halt and starts zigzagging away from the seeker.

You hear Sevika shift behind you and the sound of a cigarette being put out.

“Is she alright?” Mel asks as Vi does a 180° turn, her head almost skimming the ground. Jayce pulls off your scarf and hands it back to you, like he's getting ready to jump into action.

“Gert! Something's wrong with my broom!” Vi calls out. She's gripping her broom like her life depends on it as it dips up and down and starts to spin in a desperate attempt to throw her off.

“Her broom’s been hexed,” Sevika mutters, getting to her feet. “I’ll sort it out.”

“Hexed?” Viktor squints as Vi’s broom continues to spasm. “It’s only the first game.”

“Were you expecting somebody to get hexed later?” you ask, puzzled.

“Not necessarily, but if somebody were to hex somebody else for a better chance at winning the cup, it would likely happen later in the season.”

One of the bludgers is going for the seeker of the gryffindor team. She spots it and is about to dodge when it stops in mid-air and reroutes, going towards the stands where hufflepuff is situated.

Those in the stands are sent into a frenzy as they duck down to avoid the wild bludger. The hufflepuff beaters and Gert exchange baffled looks, then decide to rush to the bludger’s victims and bat them away, putting the match unofficially on hold.

Mel and Jayce get up alongside Sevika and they all rush to leave the box and tend to the students. Grayson frowns and scans the stands for signs of where the hex came from.

You do the same, looking among the crowds of students suspiciously. It occurs to you to check how Powder is handling watching her sister be flung around but there’s no sign of her signature blue plait among the black and green cloaks. In the gryffindor stands, Mylo is furiously digging through his bag for some reason.

The confusion and panic is the perfect distraction for a quick get away.

“I’d hate for Fief to get hit by the bludger,” you blurt to Viktor despite it being a fair distance away. Viktor gapes at you oddly but you turn around and flee the box before he can ask what in Merlin’s name your problem is. Silco frowns at your departure while Singed chuckles quietly to himself. Heimerdinger ducks beneath the bench to avoid the risk of being bludgeoned.

<>

Fief squeaks in protest as you hurry back across the training grounds towards the castle, burying her head into your chest. You coo down at her comfortingly, but unfortunately for Fief she’s going to have to face her fears if you want a shot at getting to the bottom of all this.

She grows more withdrawn in your arms when you step across the entrance threshold and make your way into the main corridor, passing the massive closed doors of the great hall.

“You’re going to have to be very brave for me, Fief,” you say firmly. “I want you to stick this out. I’ll give you piles upon piles of shiny buttons and bells and coins that you can keep if you do this for me, okay?”

With that you hold Fief up in front of you and carry on down the stone hallways, her little feet dangling in the air. She remains still as you pass the medical room, the quidditch trophy case… but her feet wiggle when you approach the staircase.

You turn slowly away from the staircase and the wiggles stop. Turn back to the staircase, they wiggle once more. You advance towards the stairs and stand on the platform.

When you go down a level, Fief’s feet stop kicking, so you reroute and go back up to the platform and up to the next level. Fief’s wiggles increase in intensity and she lets out a short squeal.

“You are doing great, Fifi,” you murmur, stepping onto the second floor platform. Instead of ascending another level to see if that kick starts a reaction you go straight down the corridor. A sense of guilty triumph runs through your blood as Fief squirms and chitters in your hands.

You slowly walk past the charms classroom and pause when Fief tosses her head in discomfort, but it slows when you double back to see if that’s the cause. So, on you go, with Fief getting increasingly antsy.

The paintings whisper amongst themselves as they watch your progress, curious as to your method. It may not be the most ideal solution - you hate to put Fief through any grief - but if she can lead you to the source of her anguish and the rest of the creatures then she’ll be a little hero in your eyes.

You pass another classroom once used for muggle studies that is currently out of use due to the lack of teachers, then an immobile suit of armour. Fief’s squeaks are neverending now and she’s practically flailing in your hands, forcing you to hold her close to your chest instead to keep her from escaping your grasp. She hits your scratches hard and you grit your teeth at the sharp sting.

Fief lets out a shriek as you round the corner. You half expect to see some mighty foe, a threat that would prompt her to run squealing her head off. You are instead greeted by the door to the old prefect’s bathroom, the one that Viktor and Jayce have repeatedly stated is out of bounds.

Nothing stands out about the door, it’s the same as any other; rounded and made of wood with a golden doorknob. You take a step towards it. Fief whines loudly and bumps her head aggressively into your chest.

“Fief!” you chastise, but honestly your raw curiosity is overriding the pain. What was the reason given for it being off limits again? Jayce and Viktor were working on removing old jinxes and hexes that had built up over the years due to mischievous students and a negligent staff. Was that really what all the fuss was about?

You move closer, ignoring Fief’s loud protests, and put a hand out to twist the doorknob. The door doesn’t budge - obviously it’s locked.

“Gargoyles. Fief, will you please calm down?” you snap as she butts against your injury again. You’re in no mood to ask Silco for potions, and even less to ask Sevika to soothe them over with another spell. You pull out your wand and point it to the door. “‘Alohomora’.”

Nothing.

“‘Alohomora!’” you insist, but still the door remains locked. That makes sense, it’s a spell taught to students early on. If they only locked it the usual way then anybody could get in. “For goodness sake…”

For all you know the secret to the creature’s disappearance could be right behind this door, but you wouldn’t know because somebody was paranoid about you walking in and getting a generational curse from a fifth year from ten years ago! You groan and kick the door in frustration.

Fief shrieks again, loudly, and scratches at your chest. You suck in a breath and drop Fief like a hot potato.

“Don’t be a baby,” you murmur, not really paying attention, and raise your wand to the door again. You didn’t know what charms were on the door to prevent the typical unlocking charm so you’d have to resort to brute force. “‘Incendio!’”

A brilliant burst of flames erupts from the tip and slams into the door. For a moment the door appears engulfed, but then the fire dissipates and the door remains.

“‘Expulso!’”

Bright blue light is sent flying into the door with the intent to blast it to pieces. The door remains.

“‘Confringo!’”

The explosion meant to hit the door catches on the tips of your fingers. You gasp out in shock and quickly brush them against your side in hopes of numbing them. The door remains.

“‘Bombarda!’”

“‘Reducto!’”

“Baubillios!”

You shout at the door like it’s standing solid out of pure malice and smack it hard. Then you whine pathetically as you retract it, your burnt fingers unappreciative of the brutal contact.

“Stupid, stupid door,” you grumble, turning away from it. “Fine, we’ll just have to find some other way… Fief?”

The corridor is notably empty - it’s just you and the door. Fief is nowhere to be found. You glance back at the door, around a stone pillar, then pat your shoulders in case she’d managed to get up there. You retract your steps to the suit of armour, then to the muggle studies classroom, then to Jayce’s classroom.

“Fief?” Your voice echoes off the brick walls and the stone floor, bouncing down the corridor to hopefully locate your lost niffler. “Fief, sweetheart? Where are you?”

You go up and down the corridor, the search becoming more thorough every time. The second time, you check inside the suit of armour. The third, you search inside the classrooms and look around the door again.

“Fief, I’m sorry!” you call. Your momentarily triumph at finding the door and the fury at being unable to budge it is forgotten as you rush from the corridor and back down the staircase. “Come here, silly girl, I promised you bells, didn’t I? Shiny bells and coins - and berries!”

But not even the promise of endless wildberries or a mountain of shiny items can entice Fief to come out of hiding. The last of Hogwarts’ creatures had disappeared along with the rest of them.