Ophelia, Sebastian, and Ominis formed a notorious trio during their fifth year in Hogwarts. Their bond seemed unbreakable-until fate dealt them a chilling blow in the shadowy depths of Feldcroft catacombs. There, the tragic demise of Sebastian's unc...
"I wish I was joking," I sighed to Natty, who had just called me a "loony" for taking Magical History as an advanced class.
I had no rational explanation for my decision. This summer, I was in a crazy limbo and hadn't even thought about returning to school. When I changed my mind at the last minute, I randomly marked the classes without paying much attention to them. Now, I was suffering the consequences.
"Who else is even in that class?" Natty asked.
I shrugged, clueless about who else would voluntarily subject themselves to the living torture of boredom.
She gave me a pitiful look, and we parted ways. As I entered the classroom, expecting to find only a handful of students like myself who had made a questionable decision. To my surprise, a dozen others had also chosen this class, and I spotted a familiar face - the Ravenclaw girl from the library who had quizzed me about history. I think her name was Sephronia. Since she was the only one I sort of knew, I chose to sit next to her.
"May I?" I asked.
She looked at me unfazed and nodded. I stowed my bag under the seat and settled in.
"Good choice, this class," she began the conversation. "There was so much more to the goblin rebellions which were not covered in the base class."
With a heavy puff sound Sephronia put her History book on the table. Her small hands ran through the illustrative cover.
"Uhm, yeah, it's alright, I guess," I responded with an awkward laugh. Living through one of it, did not make me want to know more.
"Just so you know, I didn't sign the petition," she said, changing the subject.
"Oh," I replied, unsure how to react, "Thank you."
"Not because I've heard so much good about you," she explained," but because Prewett is a slug."
My jaw dropped to her analogy, but I let her continue. "He calls me Historia and thinks it's funny." Sephronia grimaced and the freckles on her nose wrinkled.
"He's a prick," I agreed.
She smiled at my declaration.
"Sallow hexing him was the best thing that happened this year," she said with a smirk. I chuckled, feeling relieved that I found one more person who despised Leander. It seemed like Sephronia and I might have more in common than I initially thought.
The class was as boring as I thought it would be, but to ease my pain, Sephronia was helping me make the notes by adding little extra but memorable snippets which made it easier to remember certain years or names. "1756 is also a year when Theodore Waffles invented the dancing socks, and this rhymes with goblin hoax (it doesn't)."
Between taking notes, I finally took a look at my letter from Ilvermorny. It was from a professor there I was in contact with during summer. Professor Hills.
Dear Miss Darcy,
It is with deep regret that I have learned of your recent decision to forego your attendance at Ilvermorny Wizarding School. Without a doubt, your talents would have been a most welcome addition to our esteemed institution. I can only assume that your personal beliefs and allegiance to Hogwarts have played a role in this decision.
Unfortunately, this is not the only matter I wished to discuss with you. Normally, I would have preferred to address this matter face-to-face, but circumstances being what they are, I am compelled to do so by means of this correspondence. As you are no doubt aware, Professor Fig and I were close friends, and he had confided in me regarding certain "talents" of yours. He had also tasked me with the duty of seeking out similar symbols within our school.
As it turns out, I have discovered something quite intriguing which I believe you may wish to examine for yourself. I realize that it may be difficult to arrange a visit during the school year, but I had hoped that we might meet at Ilvermorny during your winter break.
Please inform me of your availability, so that I may arrange for your transportation.
Sincerely yours,
Jeremiah Hills,
Professor of Charms at Ilvermorny Wizarding School
I gazed blankly at the letter, feeling a sense of shock wash over me. Had he known about my power all along? Was there ancient magic involved with Ilvermorny?
Sephronia leaned in closer to my table, her eyes fixed on the letter. "Is that an Ilvermorny stamp?" she asked curiously.
I placed my hand on the text.
"Rude, and yes."
She shrugged off my worries and continued, "Did you know that the houses at Ilvermorny were named after their favorite beasts?"
I shook my head, but before I could say anything, she launched into a passionate explanation. "The four houses are the Thunderbird, the Wampus, the Horned Serpent, and the Pukwudgie. And you know what? It was only because Webster felt that if a house were named after him, it wouldn't win anything!"
"You seem to know a lot about wizarding schools."
Sephronia grinned, her ginger braids swaying back and forth. "I do! Do you want to hear a fact about Durmstrang?"
I glanced at the clock and realized class was almost over. "Maybe next time," I said apologetically, packing up my things.
As I got ready to leave, I turned back to her and asked, "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," she replied, tilting her head curiously.
"If someone wanted to find out information about a famous criminal, where would you start looking?"
Her eyes widened but she asked back "Dead or alive? Historical or recent? England or abroad?"!
"Dead, recent, in England." I replied.
She looked thoughtful for a moment before replying, "I'd start with the archive of the Daily Prophet. If you can get past their biased reporting, you might find some useful information."
I thanked her for the advice before rushing off to the Owlery (opting for the Floo flame to be faster, grimacing on the fact that it still had my face on it) to respond to the letter from Professor Hills. It seemed I would be heading home for Christmas after all.
Also one owl went to Poppy about the centaur visit. And one for the Daily Prophet requesting some of their archived papers. I even had time to write a short sorry to Ominis.
Dear Sneaky Partner in Crime,
Please don't be mad at me, I am truly sorry about yesterday.
(I embossed a little stick figure saluting, so you could feel it with your fingers)
Yours,
The Little Snake
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As I headed back to the castle, I remembered that I had forgotten to write to my mum. "Tomorrow," I promised myself.
