Potterbook | *Started*

Owen Pepperidge | Dumbledore's Office

"Do you like peppermint tea?" asked Dumbledore, pouring the teapot anyway. "I hope your surname hasn't--"

"Yes, Professor." Owen was a little concerned that the headmaster had misplaced his marbles. "You asked me last time, remember?"

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and peered at Owen over the top of his spectacles. His bushy white eyebrows furrowed.

"I must apologise, Owen," he said gravely. "But I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Never mind."

Owen played with his scarf, unwrapping and rewrapping it round and round his neck, while he waited for Dumbledore to explain why he'd invited him for tea again. Hopefully it wasn't just for the "Pepperidge Tea" joke. That would be annoying.

"Ah yes," said Dumbledore after five full minutes had passed. "Now I remember. You do like peppermint tea after all."

Owen facepalmed. "Professor?" he asked, his tone bordering on annoyed. "Why have you brought me up here?"

The headmaster grinned and the firelight sparkled in his eyes. "To remind you," he said, "that it's important to ask questions. How else do we solve mysteries and uncover secrets?"

Owen assumed that this particular question was rhetorical. He drank the rest of his tea and let his mind wander. The headmaster was clearly pushing him toward something, but what?

Then it hit him, like one of Matt's snowballs.

"Why is the school hiding the Philosopher's Stone, Professor?"

Dumbledore nodded. He pushed his spectacles higher up on his nose and leant forward. Owen couldn't help leaning forward too. The crackle of the fire got louder as all Owen's senses focused on this moment. Dumbledore took a deep breath and spoke.

"Don't ask me," he said. "Ask your friends."

Bonnie | Ravenclaw Common Room

Bonnie wasn't usually one for sitting still, but there were times when she just needed to stop and think over her hectic life. And even then she was fidgeting.

Technically, she wasn't even sitting. She was lying spread-eagled on her bed, watching as Tiny methodically destroyed the curtains.

The Ravenclaw's gaze wandered down towards the crumpled letter on her bedside table, the paper weakened by constant folding and unfolding. Surprisingly, her father's familiar, scruffy handwriting was still readable, even after the letter had caught fire during potions.

"...Sorry, but you'll have to stay at Hogwarts for about a day longer than everyone else. we can't be back any earlier. We can't wait until you come home! It's been so quiet without all your trouble- eerily quiet. In particular, we can' wait until you come home for Christmas, because, well, we have something to tell you. It's very important, and I sincerely hope that you won't hate us for keeping it from you all these years..."

What had they hidden from her? Bonnie couldn't think of anything that had foreshadowed this- she told her parents everything, and they, as a rule, never kept secrets from her.

What could be bad enough to break this rule?

Reluctantly, her eyes slid further away yet from the letter, onto the floor where a small pile of white-blonde hairs lay. Weeks later, and she was still coughing them up, and the first time had been the most frightening thing in her life. Bonnie had thought she'd caught some mystery terminal illness, and rushed to the Hospital Wing in her pyjamas. Madam Pomfrey had explained, though. Not like that had helped.

Of all her blunders, this had to be the worst. She'd eaten somebody's hair. She'd actually given somebody a bald patch. Sure, it was gone now, but that didn't help Bonnie's guilt and embarrassment at all. Worse still was Alice. She'd thought that she'd found someone who she could really talk to, then. Somebody who shared her passion for Quidditch. Then she had to go and blow it. Like she always did.

Her view wandered again, until it came to rest on the wooden box lying in her trunk. Bonnie stared at it. She knew what was inside that box. Her art supplies. She'd loved art back at home, but since she came to Hogwarts, it had been forgotten in all the excitement and discovery. She hadn't even opened the box since she'd arrived.

Suddenly inspiration struck, and Bonnie hurled herself violently off the bed. Scrambling towards her trunk, she flung the lid open, and grabbed her sketchbook, sending small tubes of acrylic paint scattering across the floor. She tore out a page, and went searching for what she wanted.

Bonnie worked with a feverish passion, staining a good deal of the dorm (and herself) with paint as she went. It didn't really matter to her though- she was too caught up in what she was doing.

She peered out of the window, catching a glimpse of her targets down by the lake, and set off.

By the time Bonnie got there, a full blown snowball fight was in place. She longed to join in, but nervousness got the better of her. Pulling out a pencil, she scribbled on the back of her artwork, and left it lying on the ground, a few metres away from the snowball fight.

Bonnie then scurried off to see if the lake was frozen enough to walk on, leaving a piece of paper with colourful painted fireworks behind a black-and-white pencil sketch of three figures. A Gryffindor boy with somewhat shaggy hair and a scar, a Slytherin girl with long curly locks, and another Slytherin girl with a single braid.

A peace offering. Sorry.
Bonnie Wray x

Spoiler

Yes, there's a reason she's at Malfoy Manor! (Her cousin is a Malfoy, and hence the Devereux family are visiting the Malfoy family.) So. Yeah. Enjoy.

Also. She's probably going to end up at that party Stells mentioned in the DT. XD

(Oh, and you finally learn her mother's name! So, like, enjoy and stuff.)

Samara Devereux | Christmas Break - Malfoy Manor:

“Samara Marie Devereux! You should be ashamed of yourself!” Samara cringed at the sound of her mother’s screechy angry-voice. It wasn’t a pleasant voice, and neither were the words she was almost yelling at her. “A Dark Arts book, in school no less! Are you insane?! I know what your father is like, but that does not mean you should follow in his footsteps!”

Samara peered up at her mother from under her lashes. Katherine Devereux, her muggle-born mother, was standing before her, looking furious. Samara knew her father was a Death Eater, and that both her father and her mother had seen the Dark Lord in action. And that her mother was not a fan. She swallowed, glancing towards where her father, Nicholas Devereux, currently stood, off to one side. He was watching her mother with a rather...blank look. Samara didn’t know how else to describe it.

“I’m sorry mother,” she said, abruptly dragging her attention back to her mother, who had ceased her ranting by now. “I didn’t mean to even have it--the book wasn’t mine, anyway. It was some other girl’s.” She deliberately left out the name--no need to get someone else in trouble, right? “And it wasn’t my fault! I didn’t mean to pick it up, but I did. And I should have handed it to a teacher--”

“But you didn’t.” That was her father this time. Samara made a small face and sighed, nodding to him.

“And yet I didn’t,” she conceded, lowering her head. “And then I thought, it can’t hurt to read it once, right?” She flicked a glance up at her father. His lips quirked--but only slightly. Samara continued, looking back towards her mother. “And then it was too late to hand it in, and then it fell out of my bag during detention with Professor Snape--and he saw it...and, well, you know the rest.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t meant for any of it to happen. I swear it!”

Samara stood still for a long moment, listening to the footsteps as they moved away. And then a door slammed, and when she opened her eyes, her mother was gone. That left her father peering at her with more than the normal curiousity that he showed towards her.

“Father?” she asked, not quite sure what to make of the situation now. She was sure she had upset her mother with the news, but what about her father? He didn’t look upset right now, not as he approached her and settled his hands down on her shoulders.

“I am very, very proud of you, Samara,” he said. And then he actually smiled. “You’ve made me very happy, my daughter. And I feel you are now a true Devereux.” He knelt down to her level. “Make me even prouder of you, Samara?” He chuckled and shook his head. “Now, how in the name of Merlin did you get hold of a Dark Arts book at Hogwarts?”

Samara stared at her father for a moment, debating with herself over whether to tell him or now. She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze. “Er...another student--a girl. She seemed to have had it, and lost it. I don’t know how it ended up outside the Slytherin dorms, but it did.”

“I am also very proud that you’re Slytherin,” he said and hugged her. Samara stood frozen in her father’s arm for a moment. It seemed to be forever before he released her and stood. “Come, daughter, let’s join the others in the dining room. I’m sure your mother will forgive you if you apologise to her.” She didn’t protest as he led her off into the other room, chattering on about something to do with ‘Auntie Pearl's Christmas Party’. Samara didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying--at first.

When she did realise, she froze mid-step. “Isn’t that a pureblood party?” she asked. And the answer was ‘Yes. Yes, indeed it is.’ Samara just about fainted--didn’t that mean she might see Junior Rockharrow? Oh, dear Merlin... No. Anything but THAT.

I'm going to set the ball rolling with the pure-blood party- not sure just yet of who all's appearing, but just write your character in if they're there! Check the DT for details!

Leopoldina Rockharrow | The Rockharrow Estate

Eduaphora had brought her work home with her in the form of the Ministry of Magic's Charity Christmas Quidditch Team.

"Quintinia, maybe not so hard next time with the Bludger- that was the Vice-Chief Mugwump of the Wizengamot you were aiming for!" Reginald said as his daughters trudged back from the grounds into the house, shaking snow off your boots. "Nicely done, Leopoldina," he said, giving his youngest daughter a thump on the back. "That fellow from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office didn't stand a chance!"

"That's because he was about sixty, Dad," Leopoldina muttered.

"Well, better an easy win than no win, eh?"

"Now come on, girls, get in out of the cold." Viola had towels ready and waiting with each of their nicknames embroidered on them. "We have three hours before we need to leave for Auntie Pearl's. And I've made some gingerbread-"

A tray came floating towards them.

"Oh, Mama, they look delicious." Iphigenia picked one up.

"Iffy, they're the same colour as your skin," Lavinia joked. After four months in Saudi Arabia, Iphigenia was certainly about a thousand shades darker than any of the rest of them could hope to be in December. Iphigenia threw her Keeper gloves at Lavinia. "Leo, next time, you're Keeping. I miss Seeking." Leopoldina and Iphigenia both preferred playing Seeker, but since there wasn't room for both of them to do so, one of them had to Keep.

"But I need to practice for when I try out next year. Alice Potter's already got onto the Slytherin team."

"Oh give it a rest, Leo." Araminta slumped onto one of the sofas. "We all know you hate Alice Potter. I don't understand why you spend so much time with that Selwyn boy though."

"Our Leo? Spending time with a Selwyn?" Eduaphora frowned.

"It's not like we're friends," Leopoldina said. "Besides, practically everyone in my year has some dark tendencies."

"That's worrying," said Eduaphora. "Eleven year olds with dark tendencies."

"They're all a bunch of psycopaths," Quintinia agreed. "Honestly, Leo, I don't know how you put up with it."

"Neither do I," said Leo, nibbling on a gingerbread man. "Neither do I."

Quintina Rockharrow | The Rockharrow Estate/Pearl Dagworth's Country Manor

"Phora, can I borrow your gloves?"

"If I can borrow your silver hair clasp!"

"Lav, where did you put my lipstick?!"

"Bert, get in here, I need your help!"

The chaos turned them out well enough. Quin and Ara used each other as a mirror, Ara in gold, Quin in silver, their own new red-as-blood lipstick and black-as-night mascara done identically on their identical faces.

"Come on, girls- and Bert- let's go!" Viola shouted from downstairs. "We don't want to be late!"

Ara grabbed the Laughing Perfume off the dressing table. Quin pocketed the Feather-Grow hairspray.

Tonight was going to be fun.

"Are the Rousseaus going to be there, do you think?"Ara asked as they walked down to the fireplace.

"I think Kaius mentioned it," Quin said. "They usually go, don't they?"

"Come on, come on." Viola thrust the Floo Powder pot into her hand. "The Dagworth Estate now, Quin."

"Don't be silly, I'm Ara," she said.

"Ara-no." Her mother glared at her. "Don't play that trick on me. Ara always wears gold. I would know, I chose the dress robes."

Quin winked and hitched her skirts up to stand in the fireplace. "Dagworth Estate!" she said and in a puff of green smoke she was gone.

She ended up in a drawing room much like her own, only with loftier ceilings, and full of people drinking honeyed mead and elf-made wine. From here, she could already see three Hogwarts-aged people.

Let the fun begin.

Samara Devereux | Christmas Break - Auntie Pearl's Christmas Party:

Samara made a face as Zacchaeus Malfoy and her sisters, Cassiopeia and Aloisia, dragged her across the room. Hadrian was somewhere around, probably still back by their father’s side. Father is probably chatting to some boring Ministry Official or something, she thought, glancing towards where Cassiopeia‘s hand gripped her wrist. She had a feeling there’d be a bruise there later... I’ll bet even Hadrian is bored out of his mind by now... As for mother? She heard a high laugh off to one side and glanced towards it. Her mother was chatting with a few of the other woman--all Pureblood, except her, of course. Not that her mother cared. None of them would have known she was Muggle-born until she told them--Katherine Devereux could dance all the Pureblood dances as well as, or perhaps even better, than most of the Pureblooded families anyways. Now that was something her mother had been teaching her. Pity that she couldn’t use it here; after all, children were meant to be seen and not heard. Samara snorted.

“Samara?” The girl in question blinked and looked up at her so-called cousin, Zach, and sighed. And here we go again, she thought, almost rolling her eyes. Almost. Because a pureblood did not roll her eyes at someone. It was most unbecoming. According to her father. “Were you even listening? I said, would you like a drink?”

She blinked at ‘Zach’ for a moment longer before glancing towards the table they now stood beside. Oh, she though, rather blankly. “Ah, no thank you,” she replied, taking a step back and hesitating when she felt Cassiopeia tug on her arm, as if to tell her to stay and behave while at such an important event. Frankly, Samara couldn’t really give a damn. “I’m.. I’m not quite sure if I should drink wine.” She coughed and looked away, extremely aware they her excuse was not accepted, but that he was choosing to ignore it. She scowled and then promptly wiped that look off her face. It wouldn’t do, would it? To go wandering around a Pureblood party with a scowl on her face. No, no it would not.

“It’s fine,” Zacchaeus replied, waving a hand through the air, as if dismissing her words--which, in fact, he was. He turned to her sisters next, a charming smile on his lips. “Would either of you ladies like a drink, perhaps?” And, of course, they accepted. As Samara had known they would. She really wanted to roll her eyes and make a face right about now--but she restrained herself. Pureblood gathering, Samara. Remember that.

As her sisters began talking to Zacchaeus about only Merlin knew what, Samara felt Cassiopeia's grip loosen. She slipped her wrist free and took a hesitant step back, away from the other three. They didn’t notice her movement, so Samara backed up a little more and slipped away from the mostly-crowded drinks table, and into the crowd of strange wizards and witches, rubbing her wrist. Pureblood, all of them, she was willing to bet. Well, at least ninety-per cent, of course. She’d expect no less from such a gathering. And for Christmas, too. It was so freaking busy. Samara was surprised that she didn’t just disappear into mid-air. And she had to have bumped into at five pureblooded witches or wizards on her way to a far corner of the room by now. At least.

And she was definitely not impressed. She felt so out of place that it was almost embarrassing. Of course, she wasn’t a pureblood, was she?

Julius & Kaius Rousseau | Christmas Break - Auntie Pearl's Christmas Party:

Julius yawned, leaning against the wall. His brother stood next to him. And they were both so bored. They must’ve been at the stupid party for at least an hour by now (which was really probably something like half-an-hour). Well, it sure felt like it, anyway. Kaius sighed, making Julius drag his attention off the mingling people in the middle of the room. “Something wrong, bro?” he asked, watching as Kaius fell to lean against the wall beside him.

“Yes, indeed, bro. Something is wrong,” Kaius replied, voice low and sullen. “I’m bored!” It was almost a whine this time, and it made Julius chuckled. His brother nudged Julius’ leg with a foot. “When is this party going to liven up?”

“Not the only one,” Julius muttered back, shifting slightly so he could throw an arm over his brother’s shoulder. Kaius grumbled something about the party being no fun at all under his breathe. Juls decided to ignore that comment for a moment. He absently pointed at himself. “Also bored. But hey, look on the brightside. When the Rockharrows get here, we can have a little Twin Time with Quin and Ara, eh?” This time, he nudged Kaius, making the other boy stumble away from the wall.

“I thought you played Keeper for the other team!” Kaius exclaimed, almost shouting. He quickly fell silent when Julius hissed at him to shut up and keep that to himself. “Ahem... Yeah. That. But hey, we can certainly liven this party up when they get here, can’t we?” He grinned at Julius, who rolled his eyes. The pair never had cared for Pureblood etiquette, really. They prefered to express all their emotions, rather than play Ice-Queens with the Snow-Princes. “SO! When do they get here?”

Julius grinned at his brother before gazing past him. He watched the little brunette stumble through the crowd and frowned. “Hey, Kai?” he called, half-questioning. “Isn’t that the little Snake Firstie? Devereux or something?” He blinked and brought his gaze back to his brother’s. “Just over there...” He gestured over Kai’s shoulder, making the other twin blink and spin around. He spied the girl almost immediately.

“Why,” Kaius began, grinning as he turned back, “I do believe that is. Shall we--”

“--go and torment her?” Julius finished his question and threw a smirk in his twin’s general direction. His eyes had gone fever-bright in delight.

Kai’s eyes light up, equally as bright. “Why, I do believe we shall, don’t you?” He smirked and the two left their little area of wall to go stalking a little Slytherin Firstie. “Now, now. Do try not to read all the thoughts in my mind, Juls. Some of them might repulse you!”

Julius laughed at the comment, throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulder. Somewhere off in the crowd, they heard the Floo make a noise as someone arrived, but paid it no mind. They were too busy hunting--hunting little first-year Snakes, that is. Well, since their little brother was with their father, they might as well entertain themselves somehow, right?

Just as the pair reached the Devereux girl, Julius caught sight of some familiar, bright blue eyes--just over the firstie’s head. The boys grinned, and Kaius glanced between the firstie and the watching eyes of Quintinia above Devereux’s head. This was good, brilliant, in fact, as Kaius smiled charmingly towards the third-year girl.

The Rockharrows had arrived.

Benjamin Fletcher | Christmas Break | Empty Classroom, Hogwarts

Ben stood hunched over a desk in the middle of an abandoned classroom staring intently at his blue and bronze Ravenclaw scarf. Theoretically, his goal had been accomplished weeks ago. All it took was months of making himself scarce and avoiding detentions so he could barricade himself in the library. Admittedly half of it was wasted searching for his answer within the realm of Charms when it was Transfiguration he needed. Then came the weeks of agonizing research that gave him a new appreciation for Professor Mcgonagall. He even remembered her name now.

The only thing that slightly bothered him was that nobody even seemed to notice his lack of brilliant personality around the castle. Potter and her puppet pals were obviously playing coy, it was just common courtesy to let your nemesis brood on the back burner while they gain new abilities in an unrelated arc of character growth, but his house mates, year mates, and even his dorm mates didn't act concerned that he never visited the common room or talked to them. Well, they would all make horrible psychiatrists anyways.

Why won't this work? I've got the right spell, the words and wand movement are accurate. There has to be a way to bypass the time limit. He scratched his chin and glanced at Chaucer, who was nomming on a beetle in a corner of the drafty room.

"What do you think buddy?"

"Rrrrrrrr"

"No, I've already tried the Maxima modifier. It doesn't extend the spell at all, just increases the mobility and liveliness of the scarf. I need something to either make it permanent or somehow create a sleep mode."

"Rrrrrrr Rrr"

"I'm already doing more learning than any of the other first years stupid! You want me to figure out binding runes too? At that rate puberty will already be over by the time I get this done, not to mention all the other things in the works. Potter might even learn how to use womanly charms to distract me or something. Think of something else."

"Rrr Rrrrr Rrrr"

"Go back to your dinner then. Just goes to show I don't need any friends."

He gripped his wand tighter in his hand as he readied himself for another attempt. His wrist made a sharp upwards flick with a miniscule downward flick toward the target object, in this case his scarf.

"Vivifors!"

The fabric rippled as the magic dispersed within it. The individual threads of the piece wiggled out of sync with each other until the whole of it started writhing like a blind snake. Ben stretched his hand out toward the end of the scarf nearest him. The tassels brushed against his fingers as if sniffing to decide whether he was safe or not. Soon 'Scarfy' slithered up his arm while creating a corkscrew-like hold on it. It stayed that way, constantly loosening then tightening itself, until after roughly five minutes it went limp and acted like a regular scarf again.

Sigh. "Looks like I'll just have to cast the spell repeatedly for long term use. Oh well. Guess I'll take a break for a few hours and get started on adding x-ray charms to my glasses."

He gathered up Chaucer and the scarf, tucking his wand safely within his robes. It was at about the halfway point to Ravenclaw Tower that something important he'd been forgetting resurfaced.

"Holy Merlin Batman! I missed the train home for Christmas!"

Maybe Mum can owl me the presents? She can't be too mad, right? I am technically studying. Not like I'm drinking Firewhiskey and hanging out with weirdos behind Hagrid's hut.

Quintinia Rockharrow | Auntie Pearl's Christmas Party

"Prepare for trouble," Araminta said, sneaking up behind Julius.

"Make it double," Quintinia said, pouncing on Kaius as they turned around.

"Ara!"

"Quin!"

"Team Rockharrow, wands up at the speed of light-"

"Surrender now or prepare to fight!"

"And win! That's right," Julius finished on their behalf. "Araminta. Quintinia. Merry Christmas."

"Is it?" Araminta looked around the drawing room. "So dull. We were wondering-"

"If we had any ideas to spice it up?" Kaius winked a her. "We were hoping you could help us out in that department."

"Well, we thought our dear sweet cousins Malfoy could use something to brighten their day," Ara said, revealing the laughing perfume in her pocket.

"And Carmel Bones' hair is just atrocious today, so we brought some of this." Quin showed them her bottle of hairspray.

"Oh come on. Think bigger than that. Don't you want to cause a little chaos?" asked Kaius.

"Did you have something in mind? Or someone?"

"No," Julius conceded. "But we thought we could start with the little snake." And he pointed at a girl about Leo's age. In fact, Quin recognised her as one of Leo's tormentors, the girl always trailing after Potter.

"That sounds like a plan," she agreed.

The boys simultaneously offered their arms to the girls.

Simultaneously, they took them.

Leopoldina Rockharrow | Pearl's party

Eduaphora was watching the twins closely. "Have they been behaving themselves, Mum?"

"As much as they ever behave themselves," her mother said, rolling her eyes.

"Have you ever considered home-schooling them? I'm not sure they're being exposed to the right influences in Hogwarts."

"Oh, they're just a couple of boys. What harm could they be?"

"Mum, they're not just any boys. They're the Rousseau twins. Surely you've heard the rumours about their family?"

Leopoldina leant in a little closer to the conversation. Her mother, however, did not take Eduaphora's bait. "Nearly everybody has Death Eaters in their family. We can't live as if the war is still going on, Phora dear."

"That war destroyed my childhood. I can't just forget about it, nor about the people who still roam free and unpunished." She stared darkly to where all the twins were laughing together. "I don't like it."

"The twins have two heads on two perfectly good sets of shoulders. They won't get messed up in anything bad."

"I hope not. You know a co-worker at the Ministry told me there's a new duelling club in Hogwarts. Apparently it's very popular- his own son was in it. Do you think the twins are? Or Leo-"

And then her sister and mother suddenly remembered she was there once more. They both glanced in her direction but Leo pretended to still be watching the crowds, the old couples dancing out of time with one another. Eduaphora hushed her voice again. This time, their mother really did seem concerned. Leo had to strain to hear.

"You don't think they've joined such a club, surely, Phora?"

"I don't know, Mum. But the way things are going... well."

"Well?"

"I know it's not my decision, and leaving Leo aside since we don't know how she'll turn out... and Lavinia's clearly headed the right direction... but I'd strongly consider pulling the twins out of Hogwarts if you want what's best for them. This make-up rubbish and all these pranks, it's embarrassing to the family, and it's detrimental to their own futures as well. Give them a warning, and one last chance. Otherwise, I really think they'd be better at home. I could help with giving them OWL prep..."

Leo's heart was thumping as she watched Quin and Ara conspiring with the boys, and as quietly as she could, she got up to tell them what she had heard.

Fiona O'Connell | Slytherin Common Room

She liked the school more when the bulk of the students were away. Fiona prowled the halls, clutching her cat to her chest, listlessly reading the letter she was sending to her sister over and over again. She wondered what her parents made her have done that night. Aunt Pearl’s Christmas party, where she’d wear her favorite muggle dress just to taunt her parents. She wondered what she was missing. Probably nothing but aunts pinching cheeks and asking how school was, and if she was behaving, the answer to that last question being a definite no.

Fiona had time to surpass her classmates in schoolwork, staying up by the fire to read father into textbooks, summarizing and making notes.

She did sort of miss seeing her relatives at the Christmas party. She wondered who would stir up some trouble instead of her. She thumbed the pages of her Transfiguration textbook, morely staring at the words instead of actually reading. She tucked her feet under her, in the chair that still bore FIONA on the back.
An owl fluttered onto the little coffee table in front of her with a hoot. She jumped a bit. It was after dark, and although she loved it, the common room was almost only lit by the crackling fire, and it scared her.
She leaned forever and removed the parcel from the owl, examining the handwriting on the front of the letter.

Ms. Fiona O’Connell
Slytherin Common Room
Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry

It was her mother’s. She tore the envelope open, pulling out a thin piece of parchment.

Fiona, darling.
I hope this letter finds you well. I hope you are keeping up with school and behaving. Your sister told me about your little stunt with the fireworks. That is not how an O’Connell behaves, as I’m sure I’ve told you many times. You need to grow up and start focusing on your future.
Merry Christmas
Mum xx

Fiona balled the letter up and tossed it in the fire.

“Merry Christmas indeed,” she snarled, turning back to her textbook.

Professor Dumbledore | Disused classroom, fourth floor corridor

A girl with light blonde hair skipped behind his back as he stared at the tall reflection of himself in the Mirror of Erised. He kept his face straight, however, not letting Professor McGonagall sense his discomfort. She knew a few details of what had happened at Godric's Hollow all those years, but he had taken a great deal of care not to let her know what his true thoughts were. She tugged at her tartan robes as she pursed her lips, apparently not happy with his plans. "Albus, it might be found by one of the students. You know as well as I do what might happen if - "

"Calm down, Minerva." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Trust me on this. I know what I am doing."

"Well," she said, her eyebrows still scrunched together in disapproval. "If you say so, Albus." She nodded at him before walking off, leaving him contemplating the words on the mirror's frame. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Humming to himself as he brought out a pack of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, he popped a brown-coloured one in his mouth and skipped out of the room, reflecting that tap-dancing might be a good way to make an entrance into the Great Hall next time. After all, the Wray girl looked like she had fun with it.

Perhaps he would go to the next Duelling Club, as well. And dear him, but did that bean taste terrible.

Alice Potter | Slytherin Common Room

Alice wondered if anyone would notice her sneaking out of the dungeons with this huge suitcase. She half-wondered how she had managed to accumulate so many items during the last few months, but quickly dismissed the thought from her head; she had more things to dwell on than the last time she filched something from Snape's cupboard.

Which was well-stocked, now that she thought back on it. Did he really have to pay for all those ingredients? She saw the same ingredients at Diagon Alley, and Snape had so many of them he ought to be out of house and home by now. Or maybe he was, and he lived at Hogwarts during summer break? Maybe that explained why he was so irritable all the time...

But enough was enough. As Alice sneaked back into the Common Room, she spotted O’Connell slumped against a small coffee-table near the fire, and decided the girl was asleep. She hoisted suitcase over her shoulder--like so--and tip-toed through the other side of the room. Maybe if she was quiet enough, she wouldn’t wake the other girl up--

“What are you doing sneaking around behind me, Potter?” Alice turned around to see the senior girl glaring at her with narrowed eyes, and matched her stare with an expressionless face. Best thing to do when caught--look innocent.

She put the suitcase down and rubbed her shoulder, looking away. “I was simply trying not to wake you up, but it looks like you have the sleep pattern of an owl.” She grinned back at the girl good-naturedly. “Hedwig always wakes up at the worst of times!” O’Connell sighed and rolled her eyes, glancing back at an envelope she had in her hands. Alice, curiosity peaked, shuffled in closer. Something was off about O’ Connell today. “Everything okay?”

The other girl shrugged, “Not really, but whatever.”

Alice blinked, and scooted even closer. “What are you looking at?”

“Just another present that is really meant to keep me quiet.” The girl said without looking up, “You are so lucky. Not to have a mother, I mean.”

The atmosphere in the room went cold. Well, technically, it was always colder than the other common rooms, but the temperature must have dropped ten degrees after the senior said that. To be honest, it wasn’t impossible, considering the fact that it was a magical school. The older girl’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped open.

“I mean, that is not what I meant. I just meant. Oh, never mind. You must hate me now more than you ever did.” The girl sighed.

A few moments passed before Alice made a move to pick up her suitcase. “Just learn to appreciate your mother better.” Her voice sounded awful and stony, even to herself in some distant corner of her mind. “I don’t hate you, but I think you need to learn to appreciate what you’ve got instead of whining about it.”

“But see,” the girl moved back to curl up into her chair, “that is where you are wrong. Because you can say that, but never know my family life. So, tot, that sounded nice, but it never works like that in the real world.”

“You don’t know my family life either, O’Connell. See, at least I can appreciate the roof over my head, but I expect you got at least three meals a day, which I didn’t. Don’t you dare compare yourself to me.”

“I would never compare myself to you, the-girl-who-lived.”

“Try the-girl-who-hates-that-name, O’Connell. I never asked to be famous. All I want is to have my REAL family with me, and spend a REAL Christmas with people who actually CARE.” She was getting visibly irritated now. “Maybe you want to be famous, but I never asked to be famous. That’s all.” She picked up her suitcase and swung it over her shoulder.

“Yeah, well.” The other girl said, staring at the envelope in her hand, “Go cry to someone else, because I never had that real family, real Christmas thing.” She picked up her book.

Alice was at the portrait hole when the older girl said this, and decided to yell at the other’s back. “At least you weren’t the one locked up starving in a cupboard under the stairs while everyone else was eating dinner!”

“Yeah, well. You’re here now, so stop playing that pity card.” Fiona called after her. She then threw the envelope into the fire and stormed to the girls dormitory before she could hear the other girl’s reply.

“Practice what you preach, senior.” She was calm now. “That’s all I have to say.” Alice turned her back on the common room, contemplating if she could pass herself off as a Gryffindor boy for the next year. She wasn’t sure she could handle much more of this right now.

Allen Selwyn | Entrance Hall

She had been cheating, Allen was sure of it. Those snowballs had unnatural force behind them, almost as if they were propelled by magic; and he knew the girl in question quite well to know that she might have hidden a couple of Knockback Jinxes in those balls. As a result, he had been knocking down the door to the fourth-year boys’ dorms, rapping away with his usual strength. A groggy-looking Pepperidge was currently glaring down at his diminutive form; and as Allen had noticed before, Pepperidge was easily twice his own size.

It was not amusing to be glared down at by someone twice your size.

“I...was...wondering...” Allen slipped over his own words, wondering why he had been so hasty in the first place. “If...you could help me...with my duelling?”

“...later.” The door was slammed resoundingly in his face, making him gulp down something in his throat he hadn’t noticed was there before. Now, Allen found himself wandering through the Entrance Hall aimlessly, rather like his uncle in drunk mode. Erk, drunk mode. The sheer memory of the swaying man taking all those pounds he’d earned and spend them on Muggle drink and Muggle woman made him feel sick.

It wasn’t the fact that he was doing it on Muggle territory that honestly made Allen feel ill. He’d seen enough of both wizards and Muggles to understand that basically they weren’t much different, except one had magic, and the other did not. To be honest, it was that the man was a Head in the ministry, and couldn’t keep his mouth shut under the influence of drink. He was probably lucky that Muggles didn’t believe in magic. Well, either that, or the women just thought he was crazy. Probably both, knowing Muggles.

Muggles could be violent, too. Especially if you were a good hand at poker, as Allen quickly found out. Sometimes, they weren’t Muggles, but wizards, too. Sometimes if they were the shady type, you were in big trouble, as he found out even later on. If they were werewolves, it was worse. But it was his stupidity. Everyone knew confirmed werewolves lived in Muggle society. It was the only way they could get a job.

Except, no one had told the boy that.

He scratched his neck absent-mindedly, barely noticing as he bumped shoulders with a Ravenclaw girl with a dreamy expression on her face. Wait. Wasn’t that Wray? He turned around. She’d sent him a note, didn’t she? Well, technically she’d just scribbled something on the other side of a randomly paint-stained paper, but it was an apology, all the same. He figured he could afford to forgive her. “Wray!”

“Oh, hello Selwyn. Your hair’s back! Thank goodness. I didn’t know that broccoli was you-and-it-was-so-big-so-I-thought-if-I-took-a-bite-nobody-would-notice-but-I-didn’t-realise-it-was-you-and-then-I-started-coughing-up-hair-and-then-Madam-Pomfrey-told-me-what-I-did-so-I-thought-I’d-send-you--”

“Okay, okay! I understand!” Allen rubbed his nose, quite sure he was red by now. Like he needed to be reminded of being a broccoli, or even the bald patch on his head. “I just wanted to say it wasn’t really your fault, because you didn’t know. That’s all.”

“Oh-thank-goodness-but-all-the-same-could-you-tell-Potter-I’m-sorry--”

“Wray!” It was Fletcher, looking remotely annoyed. He had a rather strong grip on his toad, which looked as though it wanted to run away. “Oh, hello Selwyn.” He briefly noticed Allen before turning to the Ravenclaw girl. “Come on, let’s go, there’s this spell I wanted to try on the bags to make them grow legs so they can walk by themselves--”

“Ooooh!” They went off together, making Allen blink at their backs. Suitcases that can grow legs? Sounded like a useful spell--if you could keep them from running off, that was. For some reason, he had a sneaky suspicion that Ben Fletcher wasn’t considering that factor. But as he walked into the Great Hall, he thought it was nice that Wray and Fletcher were getting along so well together.

Fiona O’Connell | Her Bed/Slytherin Common Room

She didn’t sleep as much as she laid awake, staring at the black ceiling. Beside her, Syria purred gently. She hated admitting it to herself, alone in the dormitories, but maybe, just maybe, the girl was right. On the other hand, her mother was a remorseless ice queen who only cared for images and manners.

She had to be adopted.

She grabbed her wand from her bedside table and whispered lumos, casting the dormitory in a sallow light. She picked up her little hand held mirror and stared at her face, right into her glass green eyes. Her father used to say she was the spitting image of her mother, but looks was were the likeness ended.

Fiona Isibéal O’Connell, the eternal mess-up. She couldn’t even talk right. She was even going to give the necklace to the Potter girl, and she could have sold it or whatever, but then she had to go on and mess everything up.

The green eyes blinked at her, wondering exactly what she was going to do.

She wasn’t going to apologize. There was no way she’d apologize.


She remembered waking up on Christmas mornings with her brother and sister wearing matching slytherin scarves, being overly happy to mask the tension that wrought itself between her parents. Her mother would sit on the piano bench, with a glass of brandy that seemed to always be full and never run out, watching Fiona play with a doll or a train set or whatever the gift of the year was. Her father would storm in and her mother would stare at Fiona with the same green eyes and say ‘Fiona, go find your sister.’ Isibéal was almost always in her room, reading the letters her boyfriend-of-the-week sent her.

She doubted that this year would have been any different, except both her siblings would be out with friends, so she’d have to endure the yells that shook the walls of the family home.

Fiona tried to convince herself that yes, staying at school alone to study was much much better than that.

Fiona sat up, running her fingers through her mass of wild, untamed curls. She snapped on her lamp and doused the light from her wand. She pulled her knees to her chest and blinked back tears.

Wind whistled by the window and she jumped again. She wasn’t used to being this alone. At the minimum, she always had Maggie by her side to gossip with.

She turned off her light again and fell into a light, uncertain sleep.




She woke up to a frosty light kissing her window. She changed into her favorite pair of jeans and pulled on a light sweater, tying her hair into a complicated, tangled french braid.

She made her way down to the common room, where embers from fire still tried to burn. Resting on top, barely harmed, was a necklace with a long silver chain and dark green gem that seemed to wink at her, even in the dim morning light.

She kneeled down at the hearth, pick it up and clasped it around her neck, over the chain with her ring on it.

There was one thing she admired about her mother-Mama O’Connell never failed to impress.

Marcus Moore | Moore Manor

"Marcus, what are you reading now?"

"It's, um... a book on Arithmancy." He slid the book up further to cover his face, but his older brother Miles stole it away.

"What is this? Math for wizards?"

"Something like that. Can I have it back, please?"

"What, you're not going to geek out on this like you did with algebra before? Or, wait. Do they even teach you algebra? Are you now the dumbest human being on this planet because you're the nerdiest wizard in hiding?"

Marcus took his book back and buried his nose into its old pages. "If you recall, I've been taking summer courses the past couple years to make up for my lack of mu--normal studies."

Miles, a muscular teenager of seventeen, looked down at his geeky brother before moving on and out of the living room. Marcus curled up into his corner of the couch and continued reading his new Arithmancy book he got for Christmas.

----

It was odd being home after another whole semester of Hogwarts, let alone a more exciting one. Marcus was finally learning to enjoy the study of magic, and his extra-curriculars made it even more exciting. He wanted to go back.

He never thought he'd think that.

It was Christmas dinner finally, and everyone sat around the table. Their grandparents weren't coming since they all had visited them the previous week as well as other family. Marcus looked up from his plate and observed the silence of his family members. None of them seemed eager to talk -- only to eat.

"So, Marcus," his father said, and Marcus immediately went to shoving some food into his mouth, "how is your third year at... school?"

He always seemed to forget the school's name, though it was quite clear he was still in denial about the whole thing. "It's very interesting, actually," Marcus said, picking at his beans. He hated beans. "There is actually a science to magic. I'm starting to find that out with my new courses. It all seems to make sense, especially went put into the perspective of mu--normal people, too."

Marcus' cheeks turned red, and he shoved the largest bite of beans before drinking them down with his milk.

"What... do you do after school, then? Do you go to... college? Or--"

"What your father is trying to say," his mother intervened, ignoring the glare from Mr. Moore, "is that your brother is searching colleges now. He has a marvelous selection, too. You'd be very impressed with him."

Miles glowed.

"What are you studying?" Marcus asked.

"I'll be training as a doctor."

Marcus nodded, not believing a word of that. Miles was your typical, popular jock. He supposed that sports could impact a student into considering the medical career, but Miles? Maybe his fifteen-year-old sister Maggie. She was definitely a people-person, let alone intelligent and caring.

"Marcus?"

He looked to his younger sister's shining eyes. "Will I get to go to magic school, too?"

"No, you won't," his father was quick to say. Marcus looked at him point his fork at her. "You, Madeline, will be going to a real school to get a real degree for a reliable career. None of this nonsense, I assure you."

Maddie looked as if her father broke her heart, lip trembling. Marcus' brother Max was sucking up his food like a vacuum, ignoring everything being said at the table. Marcus heaved a huge sigh and dared to say, "I've been keeping up with my math and science, too."

His father eyed him, and then continued to quiz Marcus on a number of questions. Most of it was chemistry or math, but Marcus answered them all. Fortunately, the questions weren't beyond his grade level (or at least, not too far ahead), but his father unfairly ended with a calculus question, and Marcus had to admit defeat.

"As I guessed," he said, Marcus looking down at his half-eaten dinner, "you won't be doing much with your life at this rate."

"On the contrary," his mother started -- she was always good at lifting the spirits, "He would make a wonderful assistant for me, and he's only thirteen."

"Margaret was studying calculus at thirteen."

"Pre-calculus, maybe, but if my memory serves me correctly, it was advanced algebra; and she had you tutoring her. Marcus is doing fabulously by himself."

"Not fabulously enough."

With that, his father stormed out of the room, leaving the other six at the table in awkward silence.

Max picked up an empty dish and looked inside, lip puckered out. "Mum, are there no more potatoes?"

Spoiler

I must apologise; this post is HUGE. Sorry if I kill your eyes! Enjoy~

Professor Snape | Dungeons, Potions Classroom/Great Hall:

Snape was in the potions classroom, brewing a modified version of the Wolfsbane potion. He sneered at the liquid in the cauldron as it turned the wrong damned colour. Again. He had that figured a stronger dose of Sleeping Potion would probably make sure the boy went to sleep and did not wake up until morning--either that, or he might pass out for an entire week. Snape wasn’t sure, but one thing he did know? He really did not want a werewolf so close to him again. It was bad enough teaching one, did he really have to escort it to the Shack every full moon? Snape sighed and flicked his wand, vanishing the failure of a potions from the cauldron and starting again.

He snorted and went to reach for more wolfsbane, only to find the bowl empty. With a scowl thrown in the cauldron’s general direction, Snape stalked towards his storage cupboard kept at the back of the classroom. When he reached it, he found most of his ingredients gone. What in the name of Merlin? He stared at it for a long moment, noting that his wolfbane was missing. Gone. None left. Snape snarled soundlessly and stalked for the door. Perhaps the storage cupboard in his office had some?

One thing was clear, though; Someone had been into his potions ingredients.

And Snape had an idea of who that might have been. Only...the Hufflepuff twins weren’t on School Grounds.

Snape’s scowl deepened as he entered his office--to find that storage cupboard also raided. He growled and span on his heel, straight back out into the hall and towards the main entrance. He was going to have a little chat with the Headmaster--if Dumbledore was in his office, of course. Snape wasn’t just annoyed, wasn’t just angry. He was furious. How dare those stupid children sneak into his office and potions classroom and take his ingredients. Did they not realise that that was their entire school year’s worth of potions ingredients?

When he reached the Entrance Hall, he hesitated. It was devoid of students and staff, as expected for the Christmas Break. Where will Dumbledore be? he asked himself as he eyed the marble staircase. Great Hall. It was close to dinner. With a smothered groan, he turned for the Hall, expression dark. He was going to start yelling or something before long, and then he was going to scare the life out of everyone.

Snape was still furious when entered the Great Hall. So furious that what he saw didn’t register for a moment--and then it did, and his jaw dropped. Was that...the Headmaster? Was that Dumbledore tap-dancing before the staff table? Snape stared. Was the man insane? Probably. The Potions Professor shook his head, snapped his jaw shut and stalked towards the Headmaster, robes billowing out behind him. He was over the little nip Fluffy had given him, and he no longer limped.

As he approached, he spoke. “Headmaster,” he called, eyeing Dumbledore with disdain. “A word, if you will.” He tried very hard to ignore the way all the remaining students--that despicable Selwyn boy included--stared at him, and the Headmaster. Dumbledore paused mid-step and turned around, a glint in his eye. A glint that Snape knew very well never meant anything good for him.

“Severus! My, my. You look tired. Would you like to have some of my Muggle toffees? They’re quite the delicacy.” Urgh. He was right. The Headmaster was definitely not going to take him seriously right now.

“No thank you, Headmaster,” Snape replied, resolutely ignoring the looks he was being given. “I need to speak with you, about my potions ingredients. They have bee--”

“Ah yes.” The Headmaster cut him off and popped one of the proffered toffees into his mouth, and then sucked on it thoughtfully. “I believe you’ll find them if you look in your own House, Severus. Now then.” He made a move, as if to return to his bizarre tap-dancing.

Snape growled under his breath. “The ingredients have been stolen, Albus,” he snapped, all pretense of comfort or patience gone. “Stolen!” He sneered at the older man, gaze narrowed. “My own House would not steal from me, Albus. They know better.”

“Ah, Severus. Always so biased.” Dumbledore positively beamed at him, as if this was a good thing. “I think you’ll find your younger Slytherins might not be as experienced as you think.”

His gaze narrowed even more as he watched the Headmaster. “Then they should learn,” Snape growled. “And learn quickly, too.” He turned and made to stalk off, but stopped abruptly at the Headmaster’s voice.

“Don’t be too harsh on them, Severus. After all, they’re only children.”

Snape completely ignored the other man, making to stalk off again. He didn’t look back until he was at the doors. The Headmaster was where Snape had left him, tap-dancing away. Selwyn was looking back and forth between the pair from where he sat at the Gryffindor table. Alice Potter was strangely absent.

And that was when Snape knew. “Potter,” he muttered and swept out of the hall. “I should have known.”


Julius & Kaius Rousseau | Auntie Pearl's Christmas Party:

“So,” Julius asked, tilting his head towards Kaius and Quin. Ara shifted beside him. “What’s the plan, Kai?” Kaius merely grinned back--and that told Julius everything he needed to know. His grin echoed his brothers as the pair turned towards Quin. “You got something?” Juls asked, raising an eyebrow. She smiled back, all mysterious and secretive like. “Good.” The four of them exchanged glances and grinned at each other. “Shall we, then?”

“Oh, indeed,” Kaius said and drew Quin closer to Julius and Araminta. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Well, you know us,” began Ara.

“We like to be prepared,” finished Quin. They pulled out two slim bottles from their pockets. Julius and his brother eyed the bottles thoughtfully.

“So, what d’you have?” Kaius asked, reaching out towards the bottle Quin held. Julius merely watched, still grinning like a fool.

“This,” said Quin, “is a little something Ara and I cooked up, which we’d like to use to take some revenge for our little sister.” Her eyes roamed across the room.

“You mean you want to test it on the little snake?” Kaius asked, gesturing towards where Devereux lurked near the wall. Julius sighed, shaking his head. His brother would do anything for a laugh--or revenge, if that was what it took. Quin smiled at Kaius. “Do you?”

Kaius, on the other hand, was curious. “What is it?”

“We haven’t come up with a name for this particular product,” said Ara. “But our slogan is ‘the hairspray with the feather-light hold.’ If you catch my meaning.”

The Rousseau twins grinned. “Oh, we do,” they said at the same time. Then they exchanged glances and laughed. Julius stopped before Kaius did, and glanced towards the little snake. Kaius was still laughing when he spoke.

“So, you’re going to test it on Devereux?” Julius asked, tilting his head to one side as he watched the little firstie. He brought his attention back to the Rockharrow twins when he didn’t hear a reply. “Are you?”

“Well, yes,” Araminta said, after Rockharrow eye met Rockharrow eye for a few moments. “But that’s only stage one of the night’s entertainment. It would be a shame to leave a gathering of the wizarding world’s brightest and best without making an impact, wouldn’t it?”

“So we came to you for ideas for Phase Two,” said Quin. “Got any?”

Julius and Kaius exchanged glances before Juls eyed the girls thoughtfully. “What’s in the other bottle?” he asked, grinning when Kaius nudged him. By now they stood huddled in a circle, talking in low voices.

“It’s our signature scent,” said Ara, raising an eyebrow at her sister.

“We call it, ‘Giddy,’” Quin said in a pseudo-seductive voice and both girls fell into fits of laughter as if it had just been sprayed. Kaius frowned at Julius, who raised an eyebrow in reply before the boys turned back to the girls.

“Giddy?” Kaius asked, and made a snatch for the bottle. Ara quickly jerked it back out of reach, making Kaius scowl. Julius laughed at the look on his twin’s face. “You shut up,” Kai snapped at him, before the pair returned their attention to the Rockharrow twins. “Well?”

“It’s a Laughing Potion in spray form,” Ara said bluntly, rolling her eyes, and in unison she and Quin sighed and said, “Boys.”

Julius muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like Girls, while he brother eyed the bottle, a somewhat sinister smile on his face. “Laughing Potion?” he asked thoughtfully, “in spray form? Ohhh, we can have so-much-fun with this!”

“But,” Quin said, holding up a finger. “We need to be smart. The potion by itself most likely won’t register with the guests, they’ll probably just think that Auntie Pearl’s punch is a little stronger than usual. We need something good to work in conjunction with it. And that’s where our ideas run out.”

Kaius and Julius again exchanged glances. This time, it was Juls whose grin turned somewhat sinister. “What if you start spraying that around,” he said, gesturing to ‘Giddy’, and then towards the Hairspray, “and you, Quin, spray that on Little Miss Snake’s hair, right?” Kai caught on quickly, and laughed.

“And then we can bring the temperature in here down a little, don’t you think?” he said, grinning at Juls. “I think it’s a little warm in here.”

“Indeed it is, Brother,” Juls said, tilting his head to one side. “So, it’s a plan?” He looked towards the Rockharrow twins, who seemed to be considering it. “It’ll be fun,” Julius coaxed, grinning.

“I’m not quite following- Julius, if you’re planning on putting the fires out, then that is the lamest prank I have ever heard of,” Ara said, folding her arms.

Julius snorted. “Would I ever come up with a lame prank, my dear Ara?” he asked, shaking his head. “No, no. We’re going to cover the entire room in ice, my dear. Does that sound like more fun?” He winked at her, and Kaius snickered off to his left.

Ara seemed taken aback, but a quick look to her sister and they nodded and grinned with what surely must have been magically whitened teeth. “Sounds delightful,” Quin said.

“Well, then,” Kaius said, grinning. “Shall we?”


Samara Devereux | Auntie Pearl's Christmas Party:

Samara was scowling at nothing in particular as she lingered by the wall again. She’d rounded the room several times already, and the party had her bored already. Really, what were they supposed to do here for several hours? Talk and talk, and talk more? Boring, she thought with a scowl and pushed away from the wall.

She slowly made another round, passing a huddle of older Hogwarts students, though not paying much attention to them. They didn’t seem to notice her, too busy with their conversation. And then she reached the spot where her parents were, talking to some high-end Ministry Official. She didn’t care; she just wanted to go home already. The party was boring her. Samara sighed, shaking her head and turned to go for another walk around the room, but instead she bumped into someone.

“Ow! Watch it, Devereux!”

Samara blinked, looking at who she’d bumped into. Junior Rockharrow. That was just perfect. “Oh, you,” she sneered, tilting her head to one side. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think they let traitors into a pureblood party.”

Junior Rockharrow laughed. “It’s not a pureblood party.”

As her words sank in, Samara’s eyes went wide. It...wasn’t a pureblood party? But that was what her parents had told her! “What?” she demanded, taking a threatening step forward.

“It’s just a party for the well established families of the wizarding world. Which, despite all your misgivings, the Rockharrows happen to be. And for the record, we are pureblood, which is more than I could say for some, not that I think it’s important.”

Samara stared at the other girl for a long moment, slightly shocked. How...how dare she! she thought, gaze narrowing. “Are you implying that I am not supposed to be here?” she demanded, taking another step forwards, towards Junior Rockharrow.

“Well, your being here certainly does lower the average intelligence and attractiveness of the entire party,” Junior Rockharrow said with a shrug.

The other girl... was insulting her. And her family. Samara sneered at her. Oh, she was so not getting away with that. “Oh, yes,” Samara snapped. “And I suppose so does being from a family that are merely just a bunch of blood traitors!” She smirked at the other girl when Junior Rockharrow was speechless and turned to stalk off, only to be stopped by Leo’s next words.

“Well,” she said in deadly quiet voice. “At least we were on the side that won.” Samara slowly turned back, a deadly look to her gaze. Rockharrow had gone there, had she? She opened her mouth to reply, but Rockharrow cut her off. “At least Papa isn’t a Death Eater. You know what they say, like father, like daughter.”

Samara froze, well aware of the gazes now on them. Rockharrow had said that loud enough for anyone nearby to hear it. She swallowed, gaze on the other girl. Sam could feel her eyes tearing up, feel her lower lip trembling. She bit back a sob and turned to rush off, bumping into the Rockharrow and Rousseau twins instead of finding the escape she wanted. Oh, Merlin.

“Devereux,” Kaius said. None of the older students looks impressed. Had they heard--- Yes, yes they had. Samara’s hopes of escaping the room with what little dignity she had left were suddenly gone. “Are you okay?” She stared at him for a moment, blinking back tears. And she abruptly burst out crying and fell into him. She felt him rub her back, but his attention was no longer on her--somehow she knew it. “What happened here?”

Samara abruptly pushed him away. “Oh, like you don’t already know!” she snapped, and moved to brush past him. Kaius caught her arm. “Let. Go.”

“No.” She shot him an angry look, only to find him staring at Leopoldina Rockharrow. “Hey, Quin, Ara. Did you hear what they were talking about?” Samara watched as he turned to one of the Rockharrow girls.

“I just heard Devereux call our family blood traitors, that’s all,” one of the Rockharrow twins, the one in gold, said darkly. “We don’t take such things lightly. I wouldn’t expect an ickle Firstie like you to understand, you don’t seem like the brightest.”

Samara’s glare flickered towards the girl who spoke--Araminta Rockharrow, if she was correct. She couldn’t be sure, though--those Rockharrow girls looked so alike. Had she just called her dumb? Samara’s gaze narrowed. “I am not stupid, thank you very much!”

“Oh, hush you,” the other boy said, ruffling her hair like she was younger than she actually was. It only made her angrier. “I do believe I heard that, too, Ara. Nasty little thing, isn’t she?” Samara couldn’t believe it; it was like they were talking about her as if she wasn’t there, even though she clearly was. “Well, now. How shall we fix this? Leopoldina seems very upset.”

“Oh come on.” The other Rockharrow- must have been Quintinia- stepped forwards. “Don’t abuse her. Look, Juls, you’ve ruined her hair, and she must have spent so long on it.” She too began touching Samara’s head which Samara was not enjoying, with a pained expression on her face. “Here, let me fix it.” She pulled a bottle of hairspray out of her pocket.

Kaius Rousseau sighed, shaking his head. “Girls,” he muttered, nudging the other boy. “I see now why you play keeper for the other team, Juls.” Samara glanced between the four of them in confusion. What is this? Good Auror, Bad Auror? She frowned, blinked as Quin got hair in her face for a moment. And then it was gone and Quintinia was brandishing the bottle of hairspray. “They’re so terribly annoying sometimes.”

“No!” Araminta suddenly said, stepping forwards. “No matter what the situation I simply can’t stand by and watch you ruin somebody’s hair, Quin.” She grabbed the bottle off her, and now both Rockharrows had their fingers in Samara’s hair.

Samara made a face as they pulled at her hair and tugged it this way and that. If this was what Leo put up with every morning, she somehow understood why the other girl was so grumpy half the time. She would be, too, with sisters like these two. Sadly, Samara’s sisters mostly ignored her, though. “Ouch!” she exclaimed when one of them tugged practically hard at her hair. She didn’t even get a sorry in reply, and instead was answered with the regular squirting of the hairspray.

Junior Rockharrow started giggling after a few minutes, her eyes wide and on Samara’s hair. The twins suddenly stepped back--both sets, that is. And Samara was left feeling rather...unsure. She glanced towards Junior Rockharrow again and frowned. What had the girl laughing so much? And so hard?

“Well, you’re right, Ara,” said Quintinia. “Seems she is a bit feather-brained.”

“Bird-brained is more like it,” Julius drawled, not even bothering to hide his laughter--or his smirk. Kaius had a suitably disapproving look on his face as he glanced between the girls and his brother. “Don’t you think, girls?”

“You should think about wings,” said Araminta.

“They’d be a good look on you,” her sister agreed.

“And I think you’ve gone too far, Ara,” Kaius commented cooly, eyeing the younger girl’s hair. “Really, I could have thought of something better. Although I must admit; it suits her.” He suddenly flashed Samara a bright smile and backed up to stand with the other three.

“I suppose puns aren’t my strong point.” Araminta rolled her eyes. “But... you’re welcome, Samara,” she said, her tone very serious. “Come on, Leo. Let’s go and mingle.”

Samara watched them warily as they wandered off, throwing amused glances over their shoulders--even Kaius. What was so funny? It’s not like she had three eyes and wings, was it? She blinked and shook her head. And then froze, watching the bright, neon yellow feather as it floated down past her eyes. What the.. She slowly raised her hand and brushed at her hair--only it wasn’t hair. What her fingers came in contact with wasn’t hair, it was feathers, and when she pulled her hand back, she found more feathers caught between her fingers. Purple and red, blue and green and even a pink one. “Oh, my god,” she whispered, glancing towards the retreating trio of Rockharrows and the Rousseau twins.

And that was when the laughter started--throughout the room. Samara went pale, looking around. It seemed that everyone and their mother was now laughing--at her. Tears welled up in her eyes again as she took in the room. She took off for the door to the bathrooms, tears leaking down her face. And then somehow, there was ice all over the floor--and she was sliding. Right into the wall. In the blurred room, she noticed that only the Rockharrow twins, Rockharrow Junior and the Rousseau twins seemed to be unaffected.

Chaos ensued.

Leopoldina Rockharrow | The Chaos that a few moments before was Auntie Pearl's Party

"Oo-er... guys."

Quin and Ara were too busy laughing their heads off with the Rousseau twins.

"That was so brilliant," Quin said, wiping her eyes. "So brilliant. I- I don't even have anything to say. Best idea ever."

"Calm down, else someone will think you got Giddy on yourself." But Kaius was smiling. "That was a rather good idea though, if I do say so myself."

Leopoldina couldn't help but smirk at the sight of Samara attempting to pick herself up, her head looking like a parrot had just exploded on it. But even still, she could see her mother, one of the few guests who had successfully climbed to her feet, reversing the spell. And her face was bright red.

"Guys," she said more urgently to her sisters. "Mum."

"Oh, it's just a bit of fun. She'll laugh."

"No. Phora's convincing her the two of you need to be pulled out of Hogwarts."

Both sets of twins immediately sobered. "What?"

Leopoldina nodded. The floor was melting back to normality. "She thinks that you're not being exposed to the 'right influences'." She looked suspiciously at the Rousseaus. Devereux's dad was a Death Eater. But so were their parents. And surely that made them as bad as Devereux. So why did Quin grin so inanely at them, why did Ara consider them as much siblings as any of the rest of the family? Were her sisters really in danger of being... corrupted?

As soon as the floor had returned to normal, their mother came pounding across to them. "Quintinia. Araminta. We're going home."

"Mama- to what do we owe the pleasure?" Ara asked but her mother grabbed her arm, grabbed Quin's, and with a twist they were gone. Leo was left standing with the Rousseaus, who themselves seemed uneasy.

"We didn't think that they were going to get into that much trouble," said Julius.

"They never usually do," said Leopoldina. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go and find my other siblings."

"Tell them to write to us if there's anything we can do," Kaius said.

Leopoldina delved into the crowd and found Lavinia chatting up some Sixth Year boy as she helped his grandmother up off the ground. "Lav, Mum's taken Ara and Quin home. I don't know what she's going to do to them."

"Well, they were completely in the wrong," said Eduaphora, coming up behind her. "How dare they ruin somebody's party?"

"It was just a bit of fun." Iphigenia also appeared, her robes a dash of colour- turquoise and brilliant orange and scarlet- against the crimsons and emerald greens of the rest of the room. "Mum always used to be able to take a joke."

She and Leopoldina both stared at Eduaphora angrily, while Lavinia simply seemed uneasy.

War was about to break out in the Rockharrow household.

Quintinia Rockharrow | Rockharrow Manor

No new robes.

No wand until time to return to Hogwarts.

The same went for brooms.

No potions ingredients bought for them for at least three months.

Allowance cut off indefinitely.

Christmas present from parents to be given for birthday instead.

"But we need those boots," Ara begged. "We need them for January! By April we won't be able to wear them until next season and they'll be desperately out of fashion."

"Isn't that a pity?" her mother said. "Go up to your room. I don't want to see you leave it until dinnertime. And not a peep out of you. I'll have a listening charm on it, if I so much as hear one giggle-"

"What are we supposed to do up there?" asked Quin.

"Tidy it! Read a book! Improve yourselves."

Instead, they went upstairs and cried.

Downstairs, they could hear the fight raging. Iffy was eternally on the side of the rebel, Phora on the side of the rulemaker. Lav was on whichever side was asking her to be on her side. And Leo, it warmed Quin's heart a little, was begging on their behalf. But that was just Leo. She didn't like to see anybody treated unfairly.

And this, this was unfair. Quin felt bare without her wand, even if she wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school. Their father had attempted to persuade their mother that it was important that they practice their flying, if Gryffindor ever was going to win the Quidditch Cup, but Viola was having none of it.

It was the worst Christmas ever.

And wanting to take her anger out on someone, Quin sat down and penned a very angry letter to the Rousseau twins for getting them into this mess in the first place.

Blue Roald | Her father’s house

“Dad, dad, dad, daddy, I love Hogwarts, I LOVE Hogwarts.” Blue was happy to be home, wearing her favorite pair of jeans and royal blue sweater that set off her eyes. Her father smiled. He himself had no wizarding blood, but he loved to see his energetic daughter enjoying himself.

“Where’s the tree, there’s the tree. Ohh, presents. I read that mermaids are inclusive creatures, and they rarely come on land. But they sing! When are Auntie and Uncle coming? I wonder how big Anna has gotten. She’s little, though, still? Right?” Blue rambled. It was then that her father realized how silent the house was without Blue.

“Tomorrow, after lunch.” Her father managed to answer one question. She tried to hold still. Blue knew she must have been causing her father at least a minor migraine. She ran to her room, and grabbed a book, running back down to the den to curl up in front of the fire. She piled her hair out and away from her eyes and opened to the first page. She stared at it for a moment, and turned back to her father.

“I’m a Ravenclaw.” She said, “my house colour is blue. No one at school calls me Blue. They just call me Roald, and I don’t know why. I think I’m making friends. Did you know that at Hogwarts, the staircases move? They do. I almost fell once and it was really scary. I wonder. I mean. Reading. I’m reading.” Her father looked at Blue, raising his eyebrows.

“Blue, what did you wonder?” Blue grinned sheepishly, but before she could say anything, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it. Maybe it’s Thomas, that boy from next door? He’s nice.” She bounced up and dashed to the door, pulling it open with a wide smile that vanished the moment she saw her mother, clutching a large gift bag.

“Mother?” She asked, “what are you doing here?”

“Merry Christmas, Imogen.” her mother said, handing her the gift bag. Blue stepped back a step. Her father hadn’t come to her rescue.

“You are making me nervous. Please leave.” Blue declared.

“Imogen...” Her mother said gently.

“No. You are making me nervous and I don’t want you here. Leave, please.” Blue grabbed the gift bag from her mother’s hand and slammed the door shut. Her mother was probably regretting raising such an outspoken child.

Samara Devereux | Malfoy Manor - Upstairs Bedroom, an hour after the Twins ruined the party:

“Merlin, Samara, what did they do to your hair?” asked Cassiopeia, tugging at the feathers that were now her hair--it made Samara wince. Aloisia sat on her other side, pouting at the colourful array. Another tug, another wince. Cass glanced towards the eldest of the girls. Both sighed. “Such a mess!”

“I don’t know!” Samara snapped, shifting on the edge of the bed. “I think it was some spray thing. I really don’t know.” She proceeded to mutter about stupid twins., making her sisters chuckle. Either, she didn’t hear them or didn’t want to acknowledge that she’d heard them. And feathers? Really? Couldn’t they find something more original to do? “I don’t know and I don’t care. Just, please...fix it?”

Cassiopeia and Aloisia sighed again and Aloisia shook her head. “We really should get mother and father up here, Samara,” Aloisia murmured, tilting her head to study her younger sister’s hair. “They’d know what to do to fix this.” She and Cass shared a look.

“I don’t want them to,” Samara muttered, pouting at the floor and crossing her arms over her chest. Cass rolled her eyes while Aloisia laughed at her little sister’s cute antics. “You guys are better at this kind of stuff than mother ever was.”

“That’s true,” Cassiopeia conceded, flicking her wand over Samara’s hair-turned-feathers, murmuring a spell under her breath. She pouted when nothing happen. “Well. That one didn’t work. You got one, Loisie?”

“Maybe, Cass,” the other sister said and proceeded to cast a spell over the feathers. The bright colours faded and shifted, and eventually, they returned to Samara’s natural hair colour. “Well, that’s better than the parrot-look.”

Samara sat still and quiet throughout all of her sister’s ministrations. It was the first time they’d actually bothered to show any real interest in her--even if it was just to fix her hair for her. She could put up with a few hours of the guinea pig treatment if it got her hair back to normal. So she shut her mouth and let them do as they would--until Cass tugged at a feather particularly harder than before.

“Ouch! Did you have to tug on it so damned hard?!”


Julius & Kaius Rousseau | Rousseau Manor - Twin’s Bedroom; Evening, the day after the party:

Julius read the letter over again, frowning, while Kaius packed their trunks. “This is ridiculous,” he stated, making his twin pause and turn towards him. Christmas had been and gone for them and now they were headed back to Hogwarts. Early. Apparently their parents thought it would teach them a lesson. Quite the opposite, actually. It only made them more inclined to mischief, really. Little did they know what their parents had planned...

“What is ridiculous?” Kai asked, leaving the packing for a moment and moving to his brother’s side. He peered over Julius’s shoulder and scowled. And then he broke out laughing. “Well, what did they expect? That we’d get off easily? Of course we were going to get into trouble.”

Julius snorted, shaking his head at the letter and at his brother. “Oh, Quin,” he said, laughing slightly. “Quin, Quin, Quin. It’s your fault, too.” Kaius snatched the letter out of his brother’s hands and began reading it as Julius went to their trunks and began the packing his brother had abandoned.

“Heh,” Kai said, amused. “That’s funny, Quin, Ara. We thought you’d have been smarter than that.” He folded up the letter and slipped it into his pocket. “Well, we better finish packing, eh, Bro?” He joined his brother in the packing, grinning the entire time. They would be heading back to Hogwarts in the morning.

Spoiler

Well, kinda short. Just getting the Twins back to Hogwarts. Don't time-skip too far! Let Triplet do that! (Or Celtica, as you might know her.)