Kiran Niraula

Kiran came to the Order with one goal in mind: to leave. She wanted their assistance. Given a little more time to understand their purpose and see their fight, she might have changed her mind. She might have stayed.

Instead her opportunity came to get out, and she had just enough time to contact her mother and say, “I’m going to Belgium. Come with me.” She wasn’t pleased, but she agreed. Kiran’s goal was to get her mother away from this war before the same thing that happened to her father happened to her. Family first. That’s been her priority since her dad died. Although she was sorry to leave people behind she was just getting to know, Kiran couldn’t stay.

Lucinda found herself swept up in the conversation quickly. She’d been hoping to see the main house, but now all she could think about was explaining her love for the wireless.

“Oh, no, you don’t understand. Sure, you could always see things live and in person, but I’ve found too many times that the reality rarely stands up to the reality you make up in your own head. A Parkin’s Pincer sounds much more exciting than it looks, more often than not. Though, I will admit, nothing compares to being in the Pincer itself.”

The Pincer had been one of her favorite moves. She’d usually put on a big show of needing to be convinced to play pointman in the Pincer, but it was her favorite position. Nothing put a smile on her face quite like watching the blood drain from some third year Chaser’s face as you barreled towards them. One opposing team member had made the mistake of trying to call her bluff. They’d both wound up needing their brooms replaced, and no one had tried that again.

“What, horse racing?” Oh, I don’t know if I love horse racing that much particularly. I just tend to leave the wireless playing in the background while I’m doing other things and I always manage to find something new and interesting to listen to. It’s been a great distraction from the outside world of late, but now, of course, I’ve found myself right here, right in the center of it all. Just as involved as any of the activists I’ve heard about on the news.”

She blanched when she realized what she’d just said. She still wasn’t sure exactly who this person was, and she’d already let something that personal slip. She tried to hide the twitch of her lips and replace it with a serene smile, though she doubted the affect looked very convincing.

Kiran considered herself a fairly tactile person. Being able to touch and feel made things more real, more understandable. Seeing them was the next best thing. Still, she supposed she could see a certain level of poetry in what Lucinda described, the imagined as exciting--if not more so--than anything life could create.

“Is that the one where the chasers dive bomb one of the other team’s chasers?” she asked. She’d studied seeker strategies and common movements. She’d had to, although Kiran suspected she would have gone looking for it anyway. It was important to understand how the thing you were creating would move in relation to the people looking for it. That was the whole purpose, after all. 

Arabella was happy for Kiran, of course, and suitably impressed too, but her heart still clenched in sympathy. To have this kind of talent and future, only to have it ripped away… “There will be. I can’t promise you that, but I’d like to think the Order can make a change for better. And that one day people like you will be able to go back to their bright futures.” The last bit she added with a smile and reached out to give Kiran’s hand a soft squeeze. She wasn’t sure if she believed that this could, would, really happen, but she did believe it was what Kiran deserved to hear; she was clearly upset, and understandably so.

But she also just as clearly didn’t want Arabella to notice and so she didn’t. Instead, she swiftly moved to look away, as if looking at the flowers. “Trust is… complicated right now, yes. But there are layers to it, I think. You can trust in somebody’s abilities, for example, without necessarily trusting the person themself. Or in their actions if not their intentions. So I don’t think we should close ourselves off from trust entirely, that wouldn’t be natural. Just… use some caution.”

Those were all very heavy topics, though, and Arabella really didn’t want to add more weight onto Kiran’s shoulders. Clearing her throat, she tried to lighten her tone. “Actually, I think I might need a favour, after all. It’s not at all urgent or important so please don’t feel any pressure to agree, but I have this idea and it might give you a project to work on if you still want one.” The idea in question had only just crossed her mind, actually, but she was very determined to find a pleasant distraction for Kiran. “What exactly can you make out of metal? Because my sister’s birthday is coming up and I was thinking that maybe I could give her a little trinket. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, maybe even just a little snake. And again, you don’t have to agree to this at all if you don’t want to; I won’t be offended, I promise.”

Kiran smiled, glad to hear a bit of faith, even if it wasn’t from someone who could know for certain. It was comforting. Arabella in general was comforting. Perhaps most wix wouldn’t have agreed with her assessment, but Kiran felt safe with her. Maybe she couldn’t do magic, but so what? Kiran’s mother couldn’t do magic, and she was and always had been safety. Magic might have given people more skills, but it couldn’t give them that essence. Some people just had it. Some people just felt like home.

“Caution’s good,” Kiran said, trying to keep her voice light. Was it caution what she was doing? Others might say she was running, but that wasn’t fair. This wasn’t caution for herself, not really. It was caution for her mother. It was caution to keep someone she cared about safe. She’d warded her parents’ house as well as she could before disappearing on her mother. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before she could carry through with it.

She wasn’t a big sports fan, be it Muggle or Wix, but she was at least familiar enough with Quidditch to be able to have a conversation about it. Not about any current teams or anything of the sort, of course – did the Hippie Hyacinths even play anymore? They’d been Josie’s favourite team and, by extension, Arabella’s. But she did know what a snitch was and what it did. “I’m glad to hear that, then. It sounds very impressive, too; snitch-making seems complicated. How did you decide you wanted to do that for a job?”

But she wasn’t sure how to answer Kiran’s own question. She didn’t want to worry the poor girl, but she also didn’t want to lie to her. Then again, Arabella had no way of truly knowing if it was a common worry. She only had her observations. “I think,” she said slowly, “That a lot of people would like to pretend everything is fine. But the rest of us… I guess we’re feeling a little restless. It’s hard to tell, to be honest. There are a lot of opinions flying around, it’s hard to say who shares which ones.”

Kiran shrugged a bit. No matter how often she’d explained in after graduation, it always felt a bit like bragging. “I was recruited actually. My NEWTS were high enough in the right areas, and I knew I wanted to be involved in charmwork of some kind. When the offer came in, the decision seemed only natural, and it’s been fascinating stuff. Lots of learn, and there should have been so much more to try.” She’d only just gotten started in the trying aspect. 

“It’s easier to pretend,” Kiran agreed, a lump in her throat. She’d known the trouble existed, but it had all seemed so far away, so distant. At least until she couldn’t pretend otherwise. Without meaning to, Kiran found herself blinking away tears. She turned her head and wiped at them hastily, not wanting Arabella to see. She could pull herself together. She would. The grief tended to come quickly these days, but thankfully it passed. Or the tears passed. At this point, she tended to think of them as one and the same: the moment she couldn’t breathe and the return to normal right after, but never quite normal, never quite the same.

Marlene nodded, trying – and more than likely, failing spectacularly – to act casual, like this was a normal sort of late-night chat between two witches who were prone to late-night chats instead of…well, instead of whatever this was and whatever they were. Her head was still reeling from the dream she’d so recently been shaken free of, her heartbeat and breathing both elevated so that it seemed the one thundered in her ears while the other rasped loud enough to wake the dead, even though Marlene knew that was all in her head. Regardless, it certainly meant that she was in no condition to be thinking logically about…well, anything, but least of all about how to handle finding Kiran in her room, acting kind.

“Glad I didn’t wake you, at least,” Marlene said. She meant it, albeit more for the sake of her own potential embarrassment than for that of Kiran herself. “Sorry to interfere with the snack-questing, please, don’t let me delay you any longer than I already have…”

And she meant to leave it at that. She really, truly did. But somehow the words were coming out before she knew it, spilling free and hot and stinging as irrepressibly as tears. “I was in the fence again. At the Notts’ house.” The fact that Kiran likely didn’t (certainly shouldn’t) know any details about that mission didn’t occur to Marlene; likely wouldn’t have mattered to whatever force it was that had chiseled her tongue loose even if it had. “The one that had wrapped me…and the cutting…” She twirled her shaking hands in helpless circles, as though that might substitute for the words that were too difficult to speak. “I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t – Ainsley was there. Remus. But they wouldn’t – of course they wouldn’t – just watched, and I – I…” She rubbed her arms, felt them bare but whole beneath her palms, and tried to believe in what she felt. “I swear I can still feel it slicing,” she murmured.

Kiran had figured that once Marlene was awake, she’d be shooed out immediately, not welcome to see that kind of vulnerability. Instead Marlene was being conscientious and kind in a way Kiran hadn’t ever seen directed at anyone but her family. She was being almost friendly.

The dismissal was easy enough to read, and Kiran could have taken it. She didn’t think Marlene would have have judged her for it later, escaping when the moment was presented. It was perhaps the rational thing to do, especially when they weren’t that close. But Kiran heard the break in Marlene’s voice, and she reacted without thinking. She didn’t know what fence Marlene meant or why she’d been at the Nott home in her dream. Kiran did know how to comfort, though. She knew her mother’s version of it, and without debating whether Marlene would appreciate it, she sat back down near the top of Marlene’s bed. Her mother would have maneuvered Kiran’s head into her lap, but Kiran couldn’t quite go that far. She could reach a hand out, and she did, gently stroking at Marlene’s hair. 

When Kiran began rattling off facts about Snitches, Lucinda could barely keep up. It really was more than just a flying lump of gold.

“Wow, it takes all that, huh? I’d thought the wings were all it took! But, pardon my lack of knowledge on Snitches, I wasn’t a Seeker in school. Just your average Chaser. Oh, and team captain! Slytherin team.”

She’d settled a bit into the conversation at this point, and decided a little more personal information wouldn’t hurt. She figured a Snitch maker would be interested in hearing she’d played Quidditch.

Kiran’s mention of the McKinnons made her smile a bit wider.

“Oh, you’re a fan of the farm, as well? I just came back from a chat with Marlene! She’s back in the stables if you’re looking for her!”

Lucinda motioned back towards the stables, wondering if that had been where she was headed. But, before she could answer, another thought occurred to Lucinda.

 “Hang on, are you a fan of the derby? I’ve got to admit, I’m a bit addicted to the wireless and I’ve managed to catch it every year! That’s the main reason I’m wandering around here. Wireless addiction.”

Kiran smiled as Lucinda explained her Quidditch connection. “That’s fun,” she said. Kiran herself had never played Quidditch, just enjoyed watching it. For the past year and so, she’d considered it to herself that she’d been meant for a different Quidditch role, although the idea brought her a certain level of sadness now when that role was now closed off. Snitch-making secrets were tightly kept. She’d never put together the rest on her own without a master to teach her.

“Like horse racing?” Kiran’s eyebrows shot up. She couldn’t say she knew much about it aside from its existence. “Well, that’s certainly an interesting past time, I suppose. I can’t say I’ve watched much. Is listening to a race any fun? I’m sorry, that probably sounded rude. I just don’t understand listening to sports in general. I guess the most excitement I get out of a Quidditch or-” She’d been about to say football but didn’t want to bring up muggle sports. “Well, mostly Quidditch is the thrill of the crowd and the energy. You can’t get that from the radio.”

🔪 - protect, attack, fight side-by-side with

Protect Hestia

Attack Maddy (if she must over differing opinions)

Side by side fight with Lucinda

💰 - rob a bank with, hide a body with, rat out to the cops

Rob a bank with Bran

Hide a body with Marlene

Cookies: Fabian (hasn’t really met)

Five-course meal: Lily (one of the DTF leaders and generally a nice person from what Kiran can tell)

‘Get plenty of use of it’, she’d said, and Arabella blinked at the little lump. The way Kiran herself was looking at it, playing with it, you would think it was the most fascinating thing ever. “What will you do with it? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, of course.”

Bored was always better than dead, but Arabella did regret that Kiran felt this way. And it wasn’t just Kiran, she was sure, which was the whole reason behind her little trips here. It didn’t feel like enough, but there really wasn’t much more she could feasibly do. “Is that you used to do? Work with metal?”

“No,” she admitted after a beat. “Calm isn’t bad. But I think by now it worries me as much as trouble does.” She shook her head and when she spoke again, her tone was apologetic. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you needlessly. I am a little paranoid these days.” The mention of homebodies and farmbodies did bring a little smile to her lips, though. “For what it’s worth, I think you count.”

.

Kiran looked up. She couldn’t believe that had slipped her mind so much to just assume the metal composition was common understanding. It was a silly assumption among wix, but to assume it for someone without magic was probably a strong oversight on her part. “Oh, sorry!” she said sheepishly as she held it up for better view, even though Arabella had just had it and would have had plenty of time to look for herself. 

“Before I was here, I was the apprentice of a snitch-maker. The properties of this hold magic well but also wipe clean of it well. You usually don’t find one in the same thing. I can play with it and practice my spellwork almost like I’m still at work.” She shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t as big a deal to her as it was. “Besides, you’re really saving Marlene’s sanity. I made the wings on a horse statue in the dining room start beating, and it drove her nuts that it kept trying to fly away and had to be picked up off the ground all the time.”

“Hang on… you made this?”

Lucinda wasn’t sure when an employee at the McKinnon Farms would find the time to create something like this, let alone take a stroll with it, so she quietly crossed that possibility off in her mind. That left Order member, customer, or refugee. But, at the moment, Lucinda was too busy staring in awe at the small fluttering lump.

“That’s amazing! You really made it? It looked good enough to fool me!”

Lucinda had never actually considered that Snitches didn’t simply appear out of thin air. She’d seen Snitches up close plenty of times, and she’d always found the intricate design quite beautiful.

It took Lucinda a moment to realize the woman had asked for her name. Something in her caused her to hesitate. She still wasn’t sure exactly why this woman was here. But, she figured she had as much deniability as she did. She could simply say she was on a tour, if need be.

“I’m Lucinda, nice to meet you. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s brought you and your charmwork around here today?”

Kiran ducked her head to the side in a shrug, but her smile gave away just how pleased she was by the compliment. Compared to her mentor’s work, Kiran felt like she had no skill, just the most rudimentary of spell understanding. It was nice to receive a reminder that just because she knew what better looked like didn’t mean hers was unimpressive.

“It’s not meant to fool necessarily. I just don’t know the spells to craft the center quite right. I know it’s easy to assume it’s just a ball, but it has to be sized correctly, it has to have room for the wings to fold in, it has to have the inner cavity for proper balance, and it has to have the spell work to be completely independent. I don’t have any of that unfortunately, but the wings are fun, aren’t they?”

Lucinda wasn’t an unusual name exactly, but it felt like the kind of name a pureblood would have. Kiran hadn’t expected a surname when she hadn’t given one, but it was still unfortunate not to receive. This conversation would be easier to navigate otherwise. 

Arabella didn’t understand what it was about a piece of metal that made Kiran so happy, but then again, wix had always been a bit of an oddity to her, even beyond the obvious sense of belonging she was lacking. It was their daily lives that stumped her the most, actually, even now, still. She’d gotten used to the big things, to grandiose spells and fights, to Hogwarts talk, to potions and whatnot; she’d grown up among these things, they weren’t as foreign to her as people tended to assume. But the mundane, everyday things… she would never really understand those. How could she? When a picture frame broke, wix’ first instinct was to wave a wand; Arabella’s was to find tape – so small, so insignificant, and yet it mattered.

So yes, she didn’t understand the metal, and she didn’t ask. But she could only smile at Kiran’s excitement. “I’m happy to hear it. I know it took a bit longer this time around, but work has been busy. Both sets of it.” Not that the work she did for the Order was really official business; it was more in line of suspicions Arabella herself had that she followed through on in hopes they would help the Order. She thought that classified as Order work, technically. And then the Hog’s Head was just the Hog’s Head. “How have you been? Are you well? Do you need anything else?”

And there wasn’t much in the ‘real world’ that Arabella thought was worth being envious over, but she also understood why Kiran missed it regardless. “More of the same, I’m afraid. Things have been calm – or so it seems, at least. But I’m probably not the best person to ask, I don’t go out as much myself.”

.

Still rolling the lump of practice material over in her hands, Kiran shook her head. “No worries about timing. I have it now, and I can get plenty of use out of it.” The benefit of this particular mixture that she’d asked for was that it could be squashed back down and stripped of previous spellwork. That made it infinitely better than anything she’d find lying around the farm.

“I’m all right,” Kiran said with a shrug. “A bit bored, but that can’t be helped. Rather, I should say you’ve already given me the thing to help it.” She waved the metal a bit. “It won’t be the same as being at work and getting instruction, but at least I can try to keep on top of things. It’s better than nothing.” Maybe someday she’d learn the rest, but Kiran would do what she could until then.

“Calm isn’t bad, though, is it?” It meant no new mass muggle deaths. Kiran shivered just thinking of it, but surely Arabella of all people would share that news. She suspected from some of the purebloods around her that Kiran wouldn’t find out from them if it did. Arabella would tell her. Arabella understood the value of muggle lives. “Nothing wrong with being a homebody. Currently I think I qualify as a farmbody, but that label would probably annoy Marlene. She’d probably say I don’t really count.”

Hands – warm hands, soft and warm and human – caught her shoulders, wrenched Marlene away from the cold-sharp-biting grip of the vines and dragged her out of what she realized only belatedly had been another nightmare. She came out of it gasping, sweat cold on her skin and eyes wide with fear and confusion, darting around the dark room before landing on the face of her rescuer–

Kiran? Kiran Niraula?

Marlene blinked up at her, bewildered by the sight of the other witch. Indeed, it was bewildering to be woken by someone else at all. When one grows-up in a house full of rambunctious children and boisterous relations, one learns to tune-out nighttime noises as a matter of survival; one would never get any sleep otherwise. And while the house was certainly quieter while the youngsters were at school, the habits of being able to sleep through them persisted. If one had nightmares in the McKinnon house, one had to get out of one’s bed and go wake someone up for comfort and cuddles; no one was going to hear and come running otherwise.

No one except Kiran, it seemed.

“I, ah…sorry,” Marlene rasped. Her throat was raw and dry. She wondered if she’d screamed aloud, if that was what had drawn Kiran in here; she wondered how many times, and how loud, her cries had been. She cleared her throat, less to banish the dryness than to try and chase away the hazy memories that had caused it. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry. It was – it was just a dream.”

Kiran immediately stepped back once Marlene was awake enough to recognize her. She was so ready for the other witch to get snippy about Kiran being in her room, but with that kind of noise, she hadn’t been able to stay out, not without knowing what was wrong. 

The last thing she’d expected from Marlene was an apology, and Kiran blinked a few times before answering her question. “What? No, I was on my way to the kitchen. Couldn’t sleep and thought I’d get something small to tide myself over until I could go back to bed. I happened to be passing by and thought it sounded like you might have some trouble.” 

Marlene looked more vulnerable that Kiran had ever seen, so she added, “It was just a dream. You’re all right.” Hopefully Kiran wasn’t pushing her luck too much, but she gingerly perched at the bottom of Marlene’s bed. “Do you want to talk about it? My amma always said talking the nightmare out helped release it from your mind. She may not be magical, but her advice is, as far as I’m concerned. Maybe it would help.”

Lucinda was feeling much better after her stop at the stables. This place didn’t have the same “seedy” or “lawless” vibe as the House of Bones, so her spirits were far higher than when she arrived. Maybe there was a place for her in this group after all.

As she walked, she caught a streak of gold in her peripherals, and her Quidditch instincts kicked in. She dodged slightly with her head, and flicked her eyes around her, expecting the small golden speck to dance around her head. When she realized it hadn’t moved, she returned her gaze to it, realizing her instincts had been right. It was a Snitch. No, wait. Upon closer inspection, Lucinda noticed the crude look of it. It wasn’t quite a Snitch, more like a… Semi-Snitch.

After a moment, the thought finally occurred to her that this fluttering lump was most likely not fluttering on its own. She looked ahead of her and saw the eyes watching her intently. The woman… it was hard to say who she was or why she was there from looking at her. She might have been another employee, like Marlene? Maybe another Order member? Or, she could always be one of the refugees she’d heard were staying around here? Either way, it was probably a good idea to say something. Lucinda indicated the lump with a tilt of her head.

“I’m sorry. Is this yours?”

Kiran watched with mild curiosity for how the witch would respond, and based on how quickly she snapped to attention, Kiran could only assume she’d played Quidditch back in school. Perhaps she’d even be a seeker. She waited until she’d been noticed to approach, but once the woman spoke, Kiran offered her a big smile as she came closer.

“It is,” she said as she flicked her wand and summoned it flying back to her. Kiran put her hand up to catch it, an easy feat when she was the one who’d told it where to go. “I wish I could do the whole snitch, but the wings are fun.”

Kiran found herself wondering the farm. This was nothing out of the ordinary for her. She spent most of her days wandering the farm because she had nothing better to do. Today she was flickering her wand back and forth in front of her. She didn’t have a snitch made, but she did have a pair of wings attached to a little lump of metal that Kiran sent wandering around before her. 

When she glanced up and saw someone coming down the way from the barns, Kiran did feel a small stab of concern. If this was a customer, they’d probably want to know what she was doing at the farm, but she had a few back pocket excuses at this point. Not terribly concerned, Kiran flicked her wand toward the woman, letting her little winged lump go flapping toward her.