The Art of Magical Mayhem

A Rattling Return

September 1935

The enchanted ceiling was just as stunning as I remembered. I recalled the previous night, the star-spotted sky above hardly comparable to the artificial lights of London.

You couldn't get that kind of view in the city.

Now, looking up, even the morning sky seemed more beautiful than usual. The thin clouds had a painterly quality to them, the only reminder that there even was a ceiling.

It was my first morning back at Hogwarts, and—standing in the entrance—I made a decision.

I walked brazenly up to the Gryffindor table.

Vanessa was there, long black hair as innocuous as always, but easily recognisable by the bright yellow lining of her uniform. The Great Hall wasn't very full at the moment. It was rather early in the morning for most students.

The two brothers weren't there, but Armani was. He saw me walking over and smiled.

I smiled back.

"Hey Vanessa, hey William! How were your summers?"

—————

Anemone had been quiet since we returned. I had assumed she was tired from yesterday's trip and ignored her. It was the second day of September, which was still a weekend, so I'd holed myself up in the library instead of hanging out with her and some other Slytherins as I usually would.

It was nearing curfew now. Anemone sat on the bed next to mine, curtains open, as I organised my things. I'd been ignoring my mostly unpacked trunk for the whole day.

"I thought you were playing them for fools but... you're being serious, aren't you?"

The question was quiet, almost a mutter. I glanced at Anemone, confused.

"Friends with a Hufflepuff, Annaliese? I thought Victoria taught you better," said Anemone.

Our dorm mates shot us annoyed looks but didn't intervene.

"Hemlock isn't my keeper," I said. Since when had Anemone started caring? How strange...

"That doesn't matter." Anemone's voice was sharp now. "What does, is that the moment the Sorting Hat yelled 'Slytherin' from on top of your head, you have gained a duty to this house and you are making us all look like fools, hanging out with riff-raff as you are!"

I grit my teeth and turned back to my trunk. "Who died and made you the Queen?"

"Well, don't come crying to me when someone tells Victoria about your misbehaviour."

"Alright," I bit out, "I won't."

Anemone was grasping at empty threats now, whether she was aware of it or not. Hemlock already knew, and Anemone was just another pompous brat in the end.

As if Ravenclaws were more acceptable to socialize with somehow...

Anemone stayed silent for a while after that, even as the lights flickered out and I climbed into bed.

Something tickled at the edge of my mind. I reached out with one hand. It seemed someone had cast a silencing bubble. A filmy barrier surrounded my bed, and probably Anemone's as well.

At least I didn't need to worry about eavesdroppers...

"But," came a trembling voice, so quiet I almost missed it, "What about me?"

I glanced up again. Anemone was upright and looking away towards the opposite wall, where all that could be seen was the drawn, emerald curtain of the bed across.

"Is Emmerson better than me, then?" Anemone said even more quietly, "Am I truly so horrid a friend that you'd leave me alone in favour of- of them?"

I said nothing, hoping she would just shut up.

Anemone pulled her curtains closed with a clink and a quiet sniffle.

And that was that.