Emma 🩵

I hc that she asked (told) the Sorting Hat to put her in the house that "needs a witch like her the most." She meant naturally talented and bound for success, among other good qualities. Of course, that sounds super arrogant of her, but she was being genuine.

I feel like it was a similar situation for Sacharissa Tugwood lol. I also don't think they get along (maybe because of their similarities).

Edward Glasspetal had known for quite some time that Elizabeth had become hopelessly entwined in the web of tragedy that was the Sallow family. He saw how she desperately tried to maintain her usual brightness whenever Sebastian would approach, always asking more of the poor, exhausted girl, and how she would always – always – choose to help him, no matter how much he didn’t deserve it.

Today seemed no different.

His brow furrowed.

         “Is something the matter, Edward?” 

Amit’s voice pulled Edward from his thoughts, back to the soft glow of the Astronomy classroom.

         “You seem troubled,” Amit lowered his book, shifting in his seat, “I am certain it is not the homework. You have been months ahead for… months.”

Edward was silent for a moment.

         “Have you ever spoken to her? Miss Quinn, I mean.” Edward asked.

Clearly, Amit hadn’t been expecting that question.

         “Oh!” Amit’s eyes widened. “Yes, yes, of course! Lily is quite kind – very eager to help others, even more so to learn from them!”

         Lily… Edward thought. A peculiar nickname for an ‘Elizabeth’.

          “I helped her in her first year,” Amit continued, “she was most grateful. She often sends me artefacts from her latest adventures! Those that I would like, of course. The others… well I’m not quite sure what she does with those.”

         “Is that where you got that astronomer’s diary?” Edward’s eyes widened.

         “Indeed! She said she found it in an abandoned cottage on the Clagmar Coast.” Amit said eagerly, pulling the diary from his satchel.

Edward’s eyes moved again to the copper-haired girl sitting across from him. “What in Merlin’s name was she doing on the Clagmar Coast? Is it not dangerous there?”

         “Not as dangerous as it once was,” Amit nodded, “after her and Natty decimated Rookwood and Harlow’s poaching ring, I hear it's been much more peaceful – not to mention that Ranrok’s mines are completely empty, thanks to her and Professor Fig.”

         “Ever the heroine, I see.” Edward lowered his head once more.

         “Why do you ask, Edward?”

Edward’s hands tightened around his book. It was a question he was wholly unprepared to answer.

         “Given her good nature,” Edward hesitated, “do you not think it worrying how often Mr. Sallow seeks her…  assistance? He is perfectly capable and intelligent, no?”

Amit’s mouth fluttered – open and closed, open and closed.

         “I-” Amit’s eyes narrowed as he too gaze shifted to Elizabeth and Sebastian. His voice lowered. “I suppose I had not given it much thought.”

Even Amit could see it: the smile that never seemed to reach her eyes, the reluctant nod as she agreed to one of Sebastian’s plans yet again.

If the rumors were to be believed, Sebastian Sallow’s “expeditions” were not safe by any means. His affinity for the Dark Arts was hardly a secret, and since his sister's disappearance, his behaviour had become increasingly unpredictable.

Some claimed Elizabeth’s involvement with Sebastian was little more than transactional. Edward doubted it.

No.

It had to be more than that.

Perhaps she too was curious about the dark arts as other classmates had theorised? But that seemed far from the girl Amit had described. 

She had defeated notorious dark wizards, dismantled poaching rings and asked for nothing in return. If it weren’t for the whispers of gossiping students, he wouldn’t have known of her… accomplishments. Though he was hardly surprised. She was a formidable opponent – an extremely talented duellist who seemed far more creative and intuitive than violent and aggressive.

That left only one explanation.

She genuinely cared for the boy.

For what reasons, Edward could not comprehend, especially considering how easily Sebastian stood as class was dismissed, even as Elizabeth was still talking.

Her disappointment was palpable.

But alas, while perplexing, Miss Quinn’s life was entirely her own; a conflicted, whirlwind affair no-doubt, but her own.

Edward would not involve himself in such complexities… no matter how alluring they may be.

☽ –––––––––––––– ✧ –––––––––––––– ☾

Friday, November 16th, 1892, Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The week had been long and… loud for Mr. Glasspetal.

When his classmates had all agreed to increase their volume tenfold, he wasn’t sure, but he was displeased with the increased distractions.

It was why, in part, that he found himself here, staring up at the stars from the Astronomy Tower.

The wind was punishing, biting at his skin like devilish Cornish Pixies, but it didn’t matter. 

The sky gave him too much comfort to care.

The silence – save for the occasional gust of winter wind – enveloped him, letting his mind settle for the first time in far too long. 

That was until he heard the clicking of boots echoing from the stairwell. The footsteps were rushed, growing ever closer to Edward.

         So much for peace, he thought.

His hands tightened around the railing as the intruder ascended the final steps.

         “Oh,”

Edward turned at the sound of a girl’s voice.

Miss Quinn.

         “I’m sorry,” Elizabeth panted, clearly exhausted from her run up the stairs, “I didn’t realise anyone else would be up here. I thought I’d beat everyone from dinner.”

Elizabeth smiled despite herself, running her hands through her coily copper curls as she tried to regain some semblance of decorum.

With a deep sigh, she wandered further onto the observation deck, relishing in the fresh air swirling around them. She stopped at the telescope beside Edward’s.

         “I don’t believe we’ve met before,” her head tilted before she took a small step forward, outstretching her hand, “I’m Elizabeth Quinn.”

Edward stared at her hand for a moment before gently taking it in his own. 

He didn’t shake it as she had so clearly expected.

Edward could not imagine something so clandestine.

Instead, with her hand resting in his, he bowed his head.

         “Edward Glasspetal,” his gaze returned to hers, standing to his full height, “a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Quinn.”

Whatever the cause, Elizabeth had grown unusually quiet. Perhaps it was his gesture. Perhaps even his stature.

         “I- um,” Elizabeth shook her head, swallowing thickly, “the pleasure is all mine!” She blurted, letting her hand slip from Edward’s.

A sharp, breathy laugh escaped the girl before she turned to look upon the horizon, then back at Edward, then back again… and again.

         “So,” she grinned, lowering her voice to match his, “what brings you here instead of the Great Hall on a night such as this, Mr. Glasspetal.”

The way she drawled his name – playful and almost teasing – made him blink.

Once.

Twice.

The faintest of smiles tugged at Edward’s lips.

He didn’t know why he felt so compelled to tell Miss Quinn – a girl with whom he’d exchanged scarcely more than a greeting – his honest reason for being here, but her presence inspired candour.

         “I suppose it is for comfort, Miss Quinn.” Edward turned his head to the stars above. “The stars here are the very same as they are at home. Whenever I am feeling particularly homesick I find myself drawn to the endless expanse of the sky. Despite its vastness, I feel much closer to home.”

Edward turned back to Elizabeth.

He hadn’t intended to pause, but when he met her gaze again, his words lingered unspoken on his tongue. 

The way she regarded him with genuine curiosity – unguarded, soft, and sincere – was a far cry from the excitable young lady he’d observed from afar.

         “Forgive me if I am wrong,” he continued, “but it is a sentiment you would understand, yes?” 

         “More than you may think,” Elizabeth’s cheerful expression returned, “though I cannot say I thought of something nearly as poetic as this.”

The pair shifted to look at the stars once more.

         “And what is it you do when you are feeling homesick, Miss Quinn? If you do not mind me asking?”

Elizabeth chuckled at that. 

Was it too bold of a question? He pondered. Perhaps she found it amusing to be called Miss Quinn?

         “I do not mind at all,” she leaned over the railing, savouring the crisp evening air, “it is a well-known fact among friends that I bake whenever I am feeling homesick or stressed.” A laugh – unrestrained and bright – escaped her then. “I have half the mind to believe that they look forward to my peril. It means there will be baked goods waiting for them the next morning. I swear to Merlin, I caught Weasley salivating the last time I said I missed my parents.”

Edward smiled. He wasn’t particularly close to Garreth Weasley, but from what he did know of his character, he believed her.

         “I do hope that is not entirely true, Miss Quinn,” his features softened, “I for one would not wish any sort of peril onto my friends.”

“Hmm, but you haven’t tried my father’s recipes yet,” Elizabeth hummed amusedly, “they might change your mind.”

         Yet.

         “Ah, I see,” Edward nodded, “your father is a talented baker then? Is that why baking brings you comfort?”

         “Correct,” Elizabeth nodded back, “he is the head baker at the bakery in Castle Combe. We used to bake together every Sunday morning.”

Edward’s eyes widened just so. Castle Combe… The name lingered in his mind.

Unfamiliar.

         “My mother and I have our tradition too,” Elizabeth added, turning her back to the stairs and leaning against the railing, “she used to braid my hair every morning after she’d finished hers. I thought I would continue doing so.”

Edward watched as stubborn ringlets escaped the thick braids, dancing in the wind.

         “But I am quite fond of your tradition, Mr. Glasspetal,” Elizabeth stretched her back over the railing to look at the stars once more, “it is rather beautiful.”

         “Do not discredit your traditions, Miss Quinn,” Edward’s focus returned to the sky, “they are lovely.”

Another soft chuckle escaped the girl beside him, but no more words were exchanged between the pair. A comfortable, peaceful silence fell upon them as they simply watched and appreciated the grandeur above them.

It was strange, he thought, for a girl that never seemed to stop moving to stand so still, so quiet.

A long moment passed.

And then another.

         “Perhaps you could teach me about them one day, Mr. Glasspetal,” Elizabeth broke their silence softly, “the stars, I mean. Amit did try his best to teach me about the constellations in fifth year but… I found my mind rather preoccupied with other matters.” She laughed at herself.

Edward, however, did not feel particularly amused at the reminder of Miss Quinn’s “extra-curricular” activities; the ones that seemed ever-intwined with danger.

His brow creased.

He’d promised himself to not get involved, to keep his distance from the chaos that seemed to follow Miss Quinn like a plague… but he could never refuse the opportunity to share his knowledge – his love – of astronomy.

It couldn’t possibly hurt.

         “It would be my pleasure, Miss Quinn.” He turned to her once more. “I look forward to it.”

         “As do I.”

A smile – one he had not yet seen – brightened her eyes.

It made him pause. Not just because of her smile, no, but because he wondered how long it had been since she’d smiled like that. He certainly hadn’t seen it in class; albeit that was the only time he saw Miss Quinn, until now, of course.

         “I must warn you though,” her voice pulled his attention once more, though it was yet another shift in her expression that garnered his interest.

A faint blush crept across her cheeks as her smile turned sheepish.

         “Warn me of what, Miss Quinn?” He regarded her with quiet concern.

She looked down at the floor, then back up at him, then to the telescope beside them.

         “I know embarrassingly little.” She nodded slowly.

         “Somehow I doubt that.”

         “Oh?”

         “Forgive me if I am wrong, but I have heard that you are quite the explorer, Miss Quinn.” Edward moved to adjust the telescope beside him. “Do you mean to tell me that in all your travels, the stars have somehow escaped you?”

         “I suppose they have.” Elizabeth laughed at herself, her gaze downcast as she kicked gently at the stone tiles.

         “That is surprising,” Edward’s head tilted, “especially considering the stars do not tend to move.”

Elizabeth’s head snapped up.

She blinked.

         “Was that… a joke?” She asked as a wry smile slowly formed on her face.

Edward’s hands stilled on the telescope.

         “I-” he paused, “I suppose it may have been.”

Another burst of laughter escaped the girl, unrestrained and unbelievably warm.

It was far more… pleasant than he’d anticipated, more infectious too.

He found he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Her laughter echoed through the empty tower, dissolving wistfully into the icy air.

         “I suppose I earned that subtle remark, too,” she admitted with a smirk, “given my negligence.”

Edward’s eyes widened.

         “Oh, I most certainly did not mean–”

         “I only jest, Mr. Glasspetal,” she laughed softly – reassuringly, “it was funny.”

“I cannot say I was making a conscious attempt at humour.” Edward finally exhaled, relieved.

“I didn’t think you were.”

Edward’s lips curled into a thoughtful frown.

         “Shall I take that as a compliment or something else, Miss Quinn?”

Elizabeth smiled again. Not bashful or playful this time, just… warm.

         “A compliment, Mr. Glasspetal.” Her voice softened.

They stood for a moment, neither one of them needing to say a word.

With a small shake of her head, Elizabeth took a deep breath, readying herself to speak when great chimes bellowed through the night air.

         Curfew.

The way Elizabeth’s shoulders sank did not go unnoticed.

          “We ought to make our way back.” Edward stepped away from the telescope.

         “O-oh! Yes, of course.” Elizabeth tucked her rebellious ringlets behind her ears again.

They returned almost immediately… but she didn’t move.

He didn’t move.

         Why aren’t we moving?

Edward glanced at the stairs behind them.

         “Professor Shah will be most displeased if she were to find me – us – here after curfew.” His gaze returned to Elizabeth.

A sharp laugh escaped her.

         “In my experience, she is far more pleasant than Professor Weasley after hours… though I do believe she expects to find me out of bed long after the bells.”

         “That is not something I would consider announcing, Miss Quinn.”

         “No,” Elizabeth bit her lip, averting her gaze to the floor again – embarrassed,  “no, I suppose it isn’t.”

With a heavy, dramatic sigh, Elizabeth swayed from railing before leaning slightly to look around Edward at the staircase.

She took her first step, then slowly – reluctantly – another. 

Her gait was unhurried, lilting as though she was following a melody only she could hear.

She was incapable, it seemed, of walking in a straight line; of taking the most direct route.

Just as her hand was about to fall upon the railing–

         “Oh!” she spun abruptly, raising one eyebrow in anticipation. “About that lesson…?”

Edward’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

         “You promised.” Elizabeth grinned.

         Ah, that’s what she meant.

         “You needn’t worry, Miss Quinn,” Edward smiled politely, his voice calm as he bowed his head just so, “I have every intention of honouring my promise.”

         “Good.”

Edward noticed her right hand toying with the banister while the other was tucked behind her, her fingers twirling in her hair.

         “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance this evening, Miss Quinn.” Edward bowed.

Elizabeth returned the gesture, curtseying gently.

         “Until next time…” 

She rose, that playful grin returning to her face as she took her first step.

         “... Mr. Glasspetal.”

Edward watched her disappear; listened as the hurried clicking of her boots faded into silence.

He turned back to the stars.

         Curious indeed…

The sound of the bells rang through the air once more; the final curfew warning.

He glanced at the telescope before turning to the stairs.

His steps were slow, measured – contemplative – as he made his way to Ravenclaw tower.

But his mind echoed one sentence.

Apparently I needed a break to get my head out of my arse and actually do the projects that have been rooting around in my head for MONTHS. (this wasn't meant to go up until friday but I messed up the dates when scheduling my insta version and it went up so)

I’m so rusty with canva projects hahahahha. I didn’t read the Sabrina comics, even though I read a lot of Archie, but was so obsessed with the show when I was younger! There was this comic book store down the road from uni and i loved how colourful and beautiful a Sabrina cover was!!!!

and also, my first attempt to mod a cat was a disaster and didn’t work… BUT THIS ONE DID. my firstborn, Salem 🥰🥰🥰🥰 I used the tutorial on @miss--soapy ‘s blog and omg I was dying at the cat skeleton bone names. Yes, let me move his toe (beans). I didn't try, but there was an option to move WHISKERS!!!! I’m immensely proud of myself ngl (ignore he’s posed a little wonky, I don’t really know cat anatomy 🤣) and I’m so proud of these photos (the clouds were actually like that in game!!!)but I think I'm gonna post the full ones seperately because they deserve their own show and i dont just wanna hide them below a cut!!!

EDIT: ill add the alternate cover though and you can judge for not picking it

Scene made using Otis, Lightroom, Photoshop, Canva. NO AI

Conjurables:

- broom by @theslytherinies (mostly on insta)