AND THEY WERE WIZARDS. (Oh my god they were wizards)

Big Floating Grim Reapers

Gonna be honest with you guys; you'll wanna have read all the way up from 'This is Halloween' just to know what's going on. Fourth year was a doozy and we're still kinda recovering.

After everything from the last year had been resolved, Remy Fox wished he could've said life went back to its usual excellence. This, however, was not the case. The summer had dragged on longer and lonelier than it had ever been, exclusively because of the absence of his best friend.

He'd hoped that after Virgil came back, Roman could forgive him for what happened in November, and while it did at least ease some of the resentment, they were still barely even acquaintances. This was the strangest feeling; Remy and Roman had been as close knit as could be ever since they were six. They were something like brothers for most of their lives. A reality without Roman in it was proving to be a very different, very depressing one.

It wasn't like he hadn't apologized. At the time, slipping Virgil a potion as part of a prank war seemed like perfectly fair game. But thinking back on it, Remy could hardly blame Roman for staying angry. Especially as it had indirectly resulted in both Virgil and Emile being petrified by a basilisk. The shock of finding his hair so drastically changed had infuriated- even terrified him to some extent, and the unused vial of Amortentia sitting at the bottom of his school bag had seemed like the perfect, most hilarious revenge. But that night, upon seeing two of his friends still and silent in the hospital wing, the greatest blow to Remy hadn't been their inability to move, but the glistening tear tracks still clear on Virgil's face. He'd been found in the bathroom- crying. Remy had thought both Virgil and Roman would laugh it off at the end of the day, but he hadn't accounted for the possibility of their genuine feelings.

No... he definitely hadn't seen that one coming.

The late afternoon was dragging into a breezy evening, but Remy wasn't outside to enjoy it. He was occupied in one of his favorite pastimes as of late: laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. He'd taken one of the feathers from his mattress and was blowing at it repeatedly to keep it floating over his face, which was still darned in his signature shades; he rarely ever took them off. September first was the next day, but for the first time in five years, he wasn't looking forward to it.

"Remy, dear," he heard from outside his bedroom door. He didn't answer or look away from the ceiling as his mother walked in.

"You're leaving for school tomorrow, don't you want to be packed?" she asked, looking around the room, where his trunk lay empty and waiting.

"I dunno, maybe." Remy answered, still not facing her.

"Well the cab's arriving at ten-o-clock sharp tomorrow morning, so if you're not ready I guess you'll have to walk." He could hear the mischievous smile in her voice.

"Thanks, mum." Remy said with a slight smile. He heard her leave the room. He knew she was right. He'd need most of his time in the morning just to drag himself out of bed. There wouldn't be time to pack. Remy made himself sit up slowly, reaching for the iced coffee on the table beside his bed. He'd never drank much coffee before last year, but he supposed it served as a kind of coping mechanism for all the stress they'd been under. He'd developed something of an addiction to it, he had to admit. He was generally a more pleasant person to be around with at least one cup in the last three hours. And especially since he'd gotten the butterbeer infused coffee grounds from Emile for his birthday, his appreciation for the beverage's taste had grown tenfold.

He shuffled around the room, throwing books and clothing items from off the floor into his trunk at random until it was full, then looked into his trunk, which was utter chaos. "Logan would be disgusted..." he muttered, "Perfect." he slammed the trunk shut and plopped back onto his bed.