All The Magic We Made (Sebastian Sallow x Fem!OC)

Have I Been Invited To A Cult?/We Discuss Cult Domination

Saturday morning, bright and early, I finally receive a letter back from my parents. I've been sending them several letters trying to explain how this owl-letter thing works, and each time, they texted me and asked why I'm making things more difficult when I could just text. But the owl method is the aesthetic choice, and I'm just a girl. Besides, the Wifi in Hogwarts constantly moves to different places in the castle like it has a mind of its own. Whenever I'm in the library, I see several muggle students on their laptops or phones sprint from one location to another in order to catch the Wifi.

By now, I've grown so used to Hogwarts that I basically forgot my phone existed. There's no reason to use any technology here, except for the occasional research or passion project. It's been oddly cleansing. Everyone uses owl to communicate, or actually talk to each other face to face.

My parents should be supporting this new method of communication. They're the ones always telling me to get off my damn phone anyway.

As I write my letter back to them in the Common common room, I purposely leave out the part about the dragon attack. And all the murderous trolls, stone guardians, goblins, et cetera. And sneaking into the Restricted Section. And taking the book I found down there to Professor Fig, where we then agreed to investigate further into its missing pages. And God forbid I tell them that I've been hanging out with a boy.

Which leaves only school and non-male friends that I can tell them about.

Someone sits next to me on the couch and clears their throat. I look to my side and see a boy who has to be a few years younger than me, maybe a second year. I recognize him as the Gryffindor kid who tried to sneak into Charms on the first day, and was caught out by Professor Flitwick.

"'Sup," he says, leaning back and stretching out on the couch. Really getting comfortable, manspreading and everything. He keeps his eyes fixed forward and talks from the side of his mouth as if we're engaging in some clandestine drug dealing. "Heard you're muggleborn, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah?" I say cautiously, pausing in my letter writing. He nods, reaching into his pocket and giving me a small, blank piece of paper. I raise an eyebrow, giving him a weird look.

"Invisible ink," he explains. "Y'know, like from those elementary school Scholastic book fairs?"

Okay, this guy is definitely muggleborn if he knows about Scholastic..

"I don't have an invisible ink light," I say.

"Revelio should do the trick," he says, eyes still trained forward. "Don't open it here. Make sure you're alone when you do."

"Uhm...okay?" I gingerly take the slip of paper. "What's going on, exactly?"

"Awesomeness," he says solemnly, before abruptly standing up and walking away.

Later that night, after a long day of classes and catching up, I'm ready to collapse into bed and sleep for a week. As I'm changing out of my uniform, I feel a piece of paper in my pocket (that's right, the skirt has pockets) and remember what that kid told me.

I take out the slip of paper, now slightly wrinkled, and spread it flat on my desk. I whisper the Revelio charm and watch as these words appear in fancy handwriting:

The Muggleborn Affiliation

Backrooms of Library

Next meeting: Next Saturday, 11PM

If you're a nerd: Yes, Madame Scribner and Headmaster Dumbledore has given permission.

TELL NO ONE.

***

Guess what? Ya girl is going to her first magical rager.

Actually, I don't know if it's a rager. I've never been to a Gryffindor party. Ginny invited me to go the other day, and even though I was hesitant, she insisted. But again, it's a Gryffindor party, so it's probably a rager.