SEA, SWALLOW ME, remus lupin

ceithir air fichead, the monster mash

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
the monster mash

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  MARY AND FALLON INSIST THAT GOING to the Ravenclaw Halloween party would take her mind off of her nagging problems — though, Cove doesn't quite see the logic behind that since the most blatant problem in question will definitely be there. And yet, despite dragging her heels at first, Cove now finds herself spending her Samhain night dressed up and going to a party instead of making offerings to her ancestors like her colony would've wanted her to. Sorry, ancestors.

   It doesn't help that her powers, of sorts, start acting up around all the different festivals in the Wheel of the Year. She's not exactly sure why, suspecting that it's to do with her primal instincts as a selkie causing her to gravitate towards nature during significant dates on the pagan calendar. Maybe. She's had it explained to her before but her mind is truly like a sieve when she's feeling bored. Typically, it's the same side effects as when she hasn't transformed frequently enough — her body trying to convert desperately to her seal form, yearning to break free of her mortal chains with webbed hands and blackening eyes. She decides that she'll just have to pull a Cinderella at the first signs of that occurrence and flee from the party before it's too late, hopefully with both of her shoes firmly on her feet.

The three of them stand before the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, knees aching from the spiralling staircase they had trudged up to summit the tower. A pure bronze door knocker in the shape of an austere raven peers down at them, evidently unimpressed. Mary scoffs and her vampire teeth poke past her scarlet lips, which are curled in disapproval. She turns her nose up at the door.

"Sorry, but I'm not answering any bloody riddles," she says. "What is this, a school?"

Cove frowns. "Yes?"

  Fallon tuts. "Oh, whatever. Suit yourself. I'm cracked at riddles," she boasts. Her fairy wings rustle when she turns to the metal raven. "Hit me with your best."

  It stares at her, unimpressed.

  "When you need me, you throw me away. But when you're done with me, you bring me back. What am I?"

   Her face scrunches. "What the fuck?"

   "Wait, I think I've heard that before," Cove says. "Er, excuse me, Mr Raven, is it an anchor?"

  The door swings wide open.

  "...That was going to be my next guess."

  She pats her on the shoulder sympathetically. "I know. I know."

  The party is in full swing by the time they get there, fashionably late as always. Bronze and blue silks drape across the tall windows, adorned in paper cobwebs and pumpkins. One of the lightbulbs upon the chandelier has been transfigured into a disco ball that spins around in unpredictable circles, casting squares of opaline light around the grand room. The painted stars upon the deep cerulean ceiling have also been charmed to glow vibrantly, radiating a vague strobe effect that causes Cove to blink the disorientation out of her eyes.

As opposed to the last party they went to, Cove sticks like glue to Fallon's side, even grabbing onto the hem of her floaty dress so that she doesn't stray too far. Mary excuses herself to go and chat up some Slytherin that had caught her eye, leaving them to cling to the wall and observe their peers — which really just translates to gossiping about them all.