Bagsy Beetlehorn and the Vampire Affairs (The Bagsy Chronicles 4)

Preparations for the Dance

The final week of term was nearing its close. Wren and Clifford had seemed less keen on Mezrielda at first as they, Bagsy, Mezrielda, Nevis and Teresa all worked on their gardens in herbology. Clearly, the episodes of Vampire Affairs hadn't helped their opinions of her.

Once big flowers, kindly trees, chocolate-growing shrubs and beautiful weeping weeds began to sprout on their plots, though, they seemed to forget their ill will towards the rumoured vampire. Wren and Clifford even went so far as to awkwardly apologise to Mezrielda at the end of one lesson.

Wren said, 'I just assumed you weren't nice because of what everyone else was saying, and all the news articles and, well, everything that I've heard about vampires. It... wasn't nice of me to do that.'

Clifford said, 'Me either. We're both sorry.'

Mezrielda looked at them before giving a graceful dip of her head. 'I'm just glad you've come to see reason,' she said in a clipped tone.

'How could we not?' Wren said, gesturing at the beautiful shared garden they'd made. 'You've been so helpful!'

Mezrielda tsked. 'I shouldn't have had to be helpful for you to see reason,' she muttered under her breath.

Wattleseed, having walked over, looked impressed at the shared space. 'Fantastic work! Simply brilliant! I especially love the team work that's gone into this garden. If only the other students had taken inspiration from you.' He gave concerned glance at the other plots of land that reminded Bagsy of deserts and dust. 'Keep this up and you'll all get excellent marks for sure.'

Potion lessons were more subdued now, and less of a source of joy than they had been before, given they were a weekly reminder that Professor Blythurst had passed, and that Bagsy had played a hand in his end.

Professor Stery was a great, if incredibly strict, teacher, but something felt off in the classroom when there wasn't a grumpy, quiet man sitting in the corner, drifting off with snores that were somehow as uneven as his appearance.

At least she had improved enough in Thaumathletics to last a minute on the obstacle rush before being hurtled off it, Bagsy consoled herself, though Fiona was growing more annoyed at being constantly out done by her childhood friend, Killian.

Soon it was the final Friday of term. Bagsy handed her work in for the Astrology lesson she had last thing on that day realising that, beside the revision lessons they'd have after the holiday, she'd finished her class work for most of the year. At least, she'd finished her classwork for her standard lessons.

Starrett's were another matter.

Despite the fact that she'd need to revise with vigour for the exams this year in the slight hope she could dodge expulsion one more time, Starrett had insisted their lessons continue.

Bagsy had found that, the more she worked on her spells with Starrett, the weaker they were becoming. As she approached the Charms classroom that evening, her main concern was that, after a certain point, she wouldn't be able to cast spells again. Sure, she could cast alohomora at the moment, and she and Professor Starret were currently focussed on getting her to be able to cast the protego charm consistently, but what if, after she'd used all the magic reserve she'd stocked up behind that magic dam within her, there was nothing left? The thought was terrifying.

Perhaps that was why she'd spent so long working on the magic insulation. She'd always have her inventions. Maybe, even if she stopped being able to cast spells, Professor Starrett wouldn't mind, because she'd have her inventions to do good work with. At least Bagsy hoped she wouldn't mind. Would she?

Bagsy stopped in her tracks as she was about to push open the Charms classroom door.

Since when did she care what Starrett would and wouldn't mind? Mildly horrified, Bagsy realised that she would feel crushed if Starrett became disappointed in her.