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002. Flying Bogeys and Library Escapades
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THE YEAR HAS ONLY JUST started, and Hogwarts is already starting to feel more like home than Herefordshire had felt for the entire summer. Being with her friends—even though, really, she only has two..—has been a total relief. She hadn't been able to talk to them much over the summer; apparently, getting mail delivered by owl is the exact kind of witchy weirdness that the Walker's are trying to distance themselves from, which she gets but she also thinks is silly because it's just owls! Anyway, Bea's just glad she got a hamster instead of an owl, because she'd feel awful having to keep it locked in a cage all summer long. (And also because Darcy is the best thing ever and she loves him and she wouldn't trade him for the world.)
Still, that isn't to say Hogwarts so far has been an entirely pleasant experience. Tensions between students are at an all time high, particularly between those born to pureblood families and those with dirty blood, like Bea, born to Muggles. She's been getting dirty looks from Slytherins since September 1st, and she's not the only one; Jenny has been particularly on edge and Bea doesn't think she's ever seen her friend more distanced from her house, which is surprising given the little amount she already interacts with them.
The war, as they all know, is only getting worse, and the worst part is that Bea hasn't even had time to properly worry about it. Within the two weeks they've been back at school, the seventh years have been bombarded with homework, so much so that there hasn't been a single prank thus far—a particularly unheard of feat for the self-proclaimed Marauders, who always make sure to start the year off with a bang. It's a little disappointing, actually, but.. anyway.
"I don't think I've ever actually seen them study before," Jenny says one day as she butters a dinner roll for breakfast, sitting at the Hufflepuff table. Bea turns her head to follow her friend's gaze, watching in a sort of shock as the Marauders sit hunch-backed and scribble on pieces of paper with large, thick textbooks that she recognises to be from Charms open in front of them. "Scheme, maybe. But studying? That's practically unheard of."
"James is Head Boy this year," Bea shrugs, recalling him strutting down the hallways with the large golden badge adorning his blazer—and, of course, he's been taking any and every opportunity to heartily brag to her and just about anyone willing to listen, which is a pretty surprisingly long list. "Maybe he's starting to be... responsible." A shiver crawls up her spine at the word and she frowns. "Anyway, since when have you paid them any mind?"
With an uninterested shrug, Jenny takes a bite of her dinner roll. "I don't." Bea doesn't push her, but she definitely finds it curious. Or perhaps it isn't curious at all, and Jenny's just watching to make sure they aren't pranking her house because oftentimes when they do, she becomes an accidental target. Probably, she thinks as the owls fly in for the morning.
