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

Yep, It's A Cult

I would have completely forgotten about the "Muggleborn Affiliation" if it weren't for the weirdly long eye contact the second year kid made with me from across the library, over his dark sunglasses that definitely came from a Spirit Halloween costume pack.

And I would have forgotten again if that night, when I went up to my dorm, there wasn't an abnormally large, neon yellow Post-It stuck to my door with the words: DON'T FORGET!!!!!

Go figure, this "Muggleborn Affiliation" is pushy, too.

So, that night, I roll out of bed at a quarter to eleven in my rocketship pajamas and go to my door. At my feet, pushed through the crack at the bottom, is a small slip of paper, also blank. Upon casting Revelio, it simply says: If spotted: you're just a girl.

What the hell?

I slip out of my dorm room and quietly leave the common room, making my way to the library. I have to make some detours along the way as paintings whisper prefects' whereabouts to me, but I end up getting to the entrance fine. Only to open the door and be met face to face with Madame Scribner.

I freeze, bracing myself for the lecture I'm most definitely about to receive. I'm already thinking about all the ways I can beg for forgiveness. Then, I notice that she's not saying anything, just staring at me expectantly.

I swallow. "Madame Scribner, I'm just a girl."

She huffs and steps to the side, letting me into the library. "Come on in then, child. Quickly, now. Backrooms are that way."

I go in the direction she pointed, to the backrooms that I'm supposed to go to. I creak open the door, peeking in and preparing myself for whatever I'm about to see.

I didn't expect the backrooms to be this big; I always figured that it would just be a tiny closet space. I definitely didn't expect it to be filled with what looks to be a third of Hogwarts' entire student body, sitting on the couches, beanbag chairs, tables, or floor. Nobody really seems to notice me walk in; they're all chatting with one another in their pajamas like this is a regular occurrence. A lot of people have their phones out, Snapping and showing each other things on social media.

I take a seat on one of the tabletops and shortly, the second-year kid who has been borderline harassing me about this super top secret cult goes to the front of the room, clearing his throat. The chatter dies down.

"Welcome everyone, to the ninth running year of the Muggleborn Affiliation," he announces. Everyone cheers and whoops, loud enough make me expect McGonagall to come in at any moment and yell at us for being out of bed.

"In case you're new: 'sup, my name's Max Loker, and here's a run down about the lore," he says. "My brother started this thing while he went to school here and I nepo-babied my way into leading it. I definitely do not have the qualifications to be standing here, but it feels awesome to be able to bow and have everyone clap. Please indulge me."

He bends into a bow and we all clap. He straightens again with a satisfied smile. "Sick," he says quietly before clearing his throat again. "Anyway, we muggleborns gather here once a month at an ungodly hour of night and make you say a muggle brainrot phrase in order to get in. Objective is to brainstorm ways to confuse the shit out of the purebloods in the school." He pauses as if he's going to say more. "No, that's literally it. That's the whole objective. And it's super under the radar, so let's keep it that way, yeah? Okay, sick. With that said, get into groups of five and start brainstorming, people! Scribner has given us half an hour to use this space until she's professionally obliged to come in and chew us out."

Everyone immediately starts getting in their groups, and it is then I hear someone call out my name. I turn and see Hermione waving at me from the other side of the room.

"Hey, I didn't expect this to be your scene," I say when I reach her.

"Are you kidding? Messing with the purebloods and it's faculty-approved?" She grins. "Totally my scene. I've been part of this since first year."

We collect three more people to be in our group of five—Arthur from Hufflepuff, Cassie from Slytherin, Kylie from Ravenclaw—and begin brainstorming. Hermione writes everything down on the piece of paper provided.

"We should do something High School Musical," Kylie suggests. The group mumbles their agreement as Hermione jots down the idea.

"I've never seen High School Musical," I say. Everyone in the group freezes, staring at me. Kylie in particular looks like I just insulted her mother.

"Excuse me?" she says in disbelief, her blue eyes wide and reproachful.

"I've never seen High School Musical?" I repeat sheepishly.

"That has to change," she says with finality.

"Movie night," Arthur suggests.

"Huh?"

"Every month we have a movie night in the Great Hall," Cassie explains. "You can bring your pillows and blankets and snacks and everything. They're showing High School Musical some point this year."

After a couple more minutes, Max claps his hands. "Alright people, ten minutes is up! Now let's hear those ideas."

"Random choreographic dance routine!" someone calls out.

"Only using Gen Alpha terms for a day!" someone else says.

"Something High School Musical!" Hermione shouts.

"I like it, I like it," Max says, lazily doodling in the notebook I assume he's meant to take notes in.

We spend the rest of the time planning the wheres and whens of each of these pranks, and we agree to all keep each other up to date using a super top secret method of communication: texting in a groupchat called "ajebxnkz$$". And I'm left wondering if I just accidentally joined a cult.

(If I did, I'm not mad about it).