My heart skipped a beat as the photo came to life. There we were, Jacob and I, jumping up and down and grinning at Mom. She must have thought it was because we were excited. Mischievous, giggling, and making silly faces at each other. Little did she...
There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told.
— Edgar Allan Poe, "The Terrifying Tales"
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Penny was nowhere to be seen till the very end of the classes. We searched in the corridors, in the Artefact Room, and even at Snape's, but there was no sign of Haywood. Even Ben, who was a master of the hide-and-seek art, failed to find any clues as to where she might have been. With each passing moment, the "pumpkin theory" gave way to the "Demiguise" one.
Surprisingly, our search ended when we spotted Penny in the Great Hall. She was chattering with...
"Hey, Gelider! Over here!"
Bill's smile was brighter than a spotlight. He stood next to the teacher's table, tall and with proudly straightened shoulders. His shirt, usually untucked, was up to the highest standards: ironed, with a starched collar and a flashy red badge. It was—
"Bill, you... you did it! You're a prefect now!" Rowan jumped up and down with unexpected bursts of joy. I watched as her face changed color again and her cheeks turned red, just like Bill's badge.
"Yeah, Rowan! You wanna see? I can even let you touch it," he said, then blushed at his own words. His ear tips blended in with his red hair. The same thing was happening to Rowan.
Penny laughed, but it was a tired, not-Penny's laugh, like a stretched-out string that sounded off. We all could tell when something was wrong with Haywood.
"He's boasting his prefect badge for the third time already, and it's only with me. I pity those who met Bill before us."
Rowan carefully touched the shiny metal badge, tracing her finger over the engraved letters and intricate Gryffindor patterns. Penny and I watched as Bill smiled nervously. His eyes, however, wandered around the Great Hall in search of something — or someone, perhaps in a pink skirt and bold makeup. Unfortunately, he didn't get over it during the summer.
I turned to Penny, intending to ask a question, but she beat me to it.
"I'm good, thanks, Mia."
"You'll be the sixteenth person to ask... in the last thirty minutes," Bill coughed. "The rumor about a Boggart in the greenhouses spread already. Luckily, Professor Sprout was nearby. Otherwise, ugh, it wouldn't have ended well."
I couldn't agree more. Rowan and I had studied Boggarts in an extracurricular reading program, a project from last year's DADA teacher. But dealing with them had only settled in our minds as theory, which, honestly, had long been forgotten. If it weren't for Professor Sprout, Tonks and I would have probably left with some deep cuts on our faces, or even worse, a fatal bite from the werewolf.
"...I'm not sure, Rowan, it wasn't on the schedule yet," hummed Bill. "But I suggest we speak to Hagrid about Boggarts, since they're magical creatures and all. He's an expert on the subject."
As if out of nowhere, Hagrid appeared. "I'm an expurt indeed, if yeh ask me!"
His beard was even more tangled since we last saw him but still adorned with bits of creature food. What hadn't changed was his warm demeanor and caring smile; to be honest, I had never witnessed such smiles before, even among my own family. It somehow reminded me of Jacob's smirk, so resolute and so knowing. It was an adult expression that didn't seem to match his youthful face.
"Blimey, Mia, it's a funny thing, but the last person t'ask me 'bout Boggarts was yer brother, yeh know. Right when the trouble with the Cursed Vault began... Oops, shouldn't have let tha' slip."
Bill's eyes widened at Hagrid's revelation, but any dangerous (or rather intriguing) ideas he had in mind were interrupted by a group of first-years who burst into the Great Hall. A giggling troupe of Gryffindor girls followed. Among them, I noticed Angelica Cole, whilst Rowan immediately focused her gaze on Emily. Although I didn't know her much, there was an unexplainable sense of disgust in me.
"Alright, ladies, let me know what— Hey! You first years, stop doing that to the custard tarts!" Bill exclaimed, darting towards the safety of the house table as a barrage of food flew through the air.
