#torvus

I do have one dormmate who's nice, though. Remember Rowan, the girl from Flourish and Blotts I told you about? Yeah, she's one of them! She took the four-poster closest to mine, and we've started sitting in class together. She's absolutely brilliant, Mum.

Lane liked Rowan from the off-set. Not only was Rowan the first person who'd actively befriended "her Winnie," but Carewyn frequently (and favorably) compared Rowan to Jacob, and when Lane first encountered Rowan on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, she completely understood why. Both enthusiasm and intellect just rippled off of Rowan, just the way it did Jacob. Lane was heartbroken when she learned about Rowan's death in her daughter's sixth year, and learning that her father Charles's criminal organization was largely behind it infuriated her like nothing else could. Even now, Lane hates her father far more for what he's taken from Carewyn and Jacob than anything he ever did to her growing up, and despite being a very gentle and even-tempered woman most of the time, Lane thinks that Charles deserved to rot alone in Azkaban, just for what he did to Duncan Ashe and Rowan Khanna.

Ben Copper and I went outside to study next to the Black Lake today. Ben wasn't so sure at first, since he'd heard stories about the Giant Squid grabbing people and yanking them into the Lake, but once we put a Waterproof Charm on all his things, he felt a little better.

Lane honestly wasn't surprised that one of Carewyn's first friends was someone like Ben. Considering how sensitive Carewyn was and how much Carewyn herself had been bullied as a little kid, Lane couldn't have been more proud of how her daughter empathized with others who were bullied and stood up for them. When Lane met Ben on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters after Carewyn's first year, she found him a very shy and sweet boy. Needless to say, she was a little surprised when she met Ben again in Carewyn's sixth year -- especially since he now towered a good eight inches over her!

Penny Haywood sat with Rowan and me in Potions class today. Rowan was a bit starstruck, since Penny's the most popular girl in our year, but fortunately she's not stuck-up about it. I mostly just don't understand how she can be so good at talking about silly things -- I wonder if it's just something that comes more naturally to Hufflepuffs?

Carewyn befriending someone like Penny, though, did surprise Lane. Penny was the sort of person Lane probably would've never managed to befriend at school herself since she was so soft-spoken, but she was happy that Carewyn was opening herself up to different kinds of people. Still, Lane completely understood where Carewyn was coming from whenever she admitted having to turn down one of Penny's invitations -- the poor woman suffered from severe enough social anxiety that the thought of anyone being such a social butterfly was foreign to her.

The gamekeeper Hagrid invited me over to his hut for tea tomorrow. He said he remembers both you and Jacob from school, so I reckon he must be older than he looks. Maybe he's part Giant? Giants age differently than wizards, right?

Lane was delighted when she learned Carewyn befriended Rubeus Hagrid. Lane had only ever spoken casually to the gamekeeper when she was at school, since her family would've never approved of her speaking to the "hired help" with any familiarity, but she'd always had a favorable opinion of Hagrid, even if he came across as less than scholarly. Lane actually even ended up sending letters to Hagrid directly a few times, the way she did with Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape over the course of Carewyn's school career. Hagrid always gushed over Carewyn in his responses and occasionally even let slip some things Carewyn didn't tell her mother about in her letters, such as how much the new Professor Rakepick had taken to Carewyn.

I've made a new friend, though. His name's Bill Weasley -- he's a Gryffindor two years ahead of me, and we met on the Training Grounds, while he was practicing on some dummies. Rowan says most of the kids in our year know him for sticking up for younger students, and after meeting him, yeah, Bill seems like a really nice person! Bill's brother Charlie's in our year, also in Gryffindor. I gather from Rowan that most Weasleys have been in Gryffindor. She said one of them was even Gryffindor's Head of House at one point! I wonder if she was anything like Professor McGonagall...

Out of all of Carewyn's friends, Lane arguably heard the most about Bill over the years. His name was the most constant in her daughter's letters, and Lane loved him almost immediately, just based on how kind and generous he sounded. Lane was familiar with the Weasley family's reputation beforehand (the Cromwell Clan had always been very derisive about their stance on blood purity), but she was delighted to see what sincerely good people they were. Bill and his family being so upset that Lane was forced to spend Christmas away from Carewyn that they invited her to stay and celebrate with them at their house touched Lane like few other things have, and ever since that winter, Lane has kept in close written contact with Bill's mother, Molly. Lane saw Bill at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters more than any of Carewyn's other friends over the years, and so by the time she saw Bill at Carewyn's graduation, they greeted each other like old friends.

Bill's brother Charlie invited me to join in on a Quidditch friendly today. Andre Egwu was there too -- I don't know if you remember him, Mum, he's the one who gave me that pretty light brown coat? -- but I'm not surprised he was there: he's brilliant at flying. Charlie is too -- he became the Gryffindor Seeker back when he and I were still second years! I wish they were on the Slytherin team!

Just like with Bill, Lane liked everything she ever heard about Charlie. She especially loved whenever Carewyn would rave about Charlie's interest in dragons, since Carewyn's own interest in magical creatures would leap off the page every time it came up. Their shared interest in Quidditch Lane didn't jive with as well considering she wasn't much for sports, but that didn't mean Carewyn's mother didn't like knowing Carewyn had people she could enjoy it with.

Andre was another surprise for Lane. On the one hand, he was a Ravenclaw, same as Lane and Jacob had been, and he seemed like a very generous and talented kid. On the other, the interests he shared with Carewyn (Quidditch and fashion) were ones Lane didn't share as much herself, and Andre seemed so gregarious and out-going that Lane wasn't sure he and her daughter would have much common ground. That didn't mean Lane wasn't still very happy for Carewyn when they started dating, nor did it mean Lane wasn't sad to hear they'd broken up. After all, just because Lane wasn't sociable at all and didn't have the same interests as Andre didn't mean she didn't want Carewyn to socialize and try new things. Lane was just relieved that Carewyn and Andre broke up on good terms -- she would've been very unhappy thinking of Carewyn having her own "Evan" who had helped her grow so much as a person, but whose memory now only flooded her with regret.

Tryouts for the new Slytherin Chaser position are coming up really soon, and I want to be ready for them. Fortunately Charlie and Andre have been helping me practice, and now I've got Skye Parkin coaching me too. (She's Slytherin's Star Chaser -- a bit full-of-herself for my taste, but she's been helpful. Her father's Captain of the Wigtown Wanderers.) The main commentator Murphy McNully (just called McNully) also gave me some books on Quidditch strategy -- or, at least, he dropped them in my lap, thoroughly expecting I'd come up and talk to him more about it later. (I'm starting to get the feeling a lot of Quidditch people don't have the best communication skills.)

The last sentence of that paragraph had made Lane laugh. Neither she nor Jacob had ever been a sports fan -- the one most into sports in their immediate family had been Evan, and he'd ended up quite disappointed that he hadn't had anyone who would enjoy going out to cheer on Arsenal F.C. with him. It made Lane a bit sad to think that if Evan hadn't been so stubborn and if he hadn't been so upset about the revelation of their magic, he could've really bonded with Carewyn over their favorite sports in a way that Lane couldn't. Lane supported Carewyn’s decision to leave the Slytherin team after Skye publicly accused Erika Rath of stealing the Cleansweep she'd intended to give Carewyn, even if she'd really wished things had been resolved more peacefully.

As for getting a tryout, well, I've been meeting with Orion Amari every morning now, trying to do just that! He's been testing me, I think, though he won't flat-out say so. Instead he's been having me balance on my broom on one foot (which, trust me, is not easy!) and meditate with him for an hour at a time. Skye and McNully both warned me that Orion is a bit eccentric...and after meeting him, yeah! They weren't kidding! But still, I think Orion has good reason to not give me a tryout right away. I mean, I am only a third year, and I'm not exactly built like a Quidditch player. I know Skye didn't really think much of me when I said I planned to try out for the open spot either. And I can tell for all his weirdness, Orion Amari is good at what he does.

Ah, yes, Orion Amari. The one who would eventually, way down the road, become her daughter's romantic partner. While Carewyn was at school, she wrote rather admiringly of Orion, not just for his Quidditch talent, but for his calm and wise temperament. Orion's detached affect was very apparent in Carewyn's letters -- Lane was reminded of some of her old friends in Ravenclaw, just reading about him. Carewyn also on multiple occasions compared Orion to both Jacob and Lane herself, though, in her letters home, and usually in the sweetest ways. Like Jacob, he saw the world differently than everyone else and didn't feel the need to conform or change himself. Like Lane, he was soft-spoken, level-headed, and brilliant, and he was happiest when the world was calm and others were at peace. Carewyn even once admitted that Orion reminded her of Lane when he laughed. When Carewyn formally introduced Lane to Orion many years later when they were adults, Lane found she did like him quite a bit, especially when she saw how calming of an influence he had on her emotional, perfectionistic daughter. Admittedly Lane never understood her daughter's other half's "Orionisms" more than half the time -- but it still filled her heart up with such joy, seeing how in-tune Carewyn was with them, regardless. And it did amuse Lane, when she learned that Orion compared her to a Porlock.

I'll tell you more about our new professor in my next letter -- I promised Tonks and Tulip I'd meet them at Zonko's after lunch. (Not exactly enthused about the location, but Tonks said we could stop at the Three Broomsticks afterward, and I plan to hold her to that.)

Lane rarely heard about Tulip Karasu or Nymphadora Tonks as anything other than a unit, but she always smiled hearing about them, because Carewyn's huffy streak tended to come out more in her letters whenever she wrote about them. Lane gathered that Tonks and Tulip ended up giving Carewyn more than a few headaches since they were on the mischievous side, but for all of the minor griping she would make about them, it was very apparent that Carewyn loved them dearly. After all, no one as proud and sensitive as Carewyn would put themselves in the position to get pranked time and again if she didn't feel anything for the prankers in question.

I also made a new friend yesterday. His name's Barnaby Lee, and he's a Slytherin in my year. He was originally friends with Merula (if you can call it that -- I hardly would, considering Merula doesn't know the meaning of the word!), but after we had a friendly duel, we went to the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer and talked for a while, and he's so nice, Mum. Way nicer than I thought he would be, hanging out with Merula so much! His family's rotten too -- I was reminded so much of your stories about your family, just listening to Barnaby talk about his awful parents and his nasty grandmother! But even with all that, Barnaby's still such a good person. He even introduced me to a Knarl he befriended at the Magical Creature Preserve this morning before class. (His name is literally just Knarl. Not the most creative name, but he's still really cute!)

Oh, Lane liked Barnaby. Not only did Lane's Mama Bear senses go off hearing about Barnaby's family situation, but she was happy that Carewyn had found people in her house who were just as sensitive and kind as she was. One of Lane's favorite pictures of Carewyn's time at Hogwarts was the one her daughter had taken of herself, Liz Tuttle, and Barnaby with their shared pet Lune the bat, who they'd rescued from the Hogwarts owlery -- that picture lived on Lane's bedside table for a good long while, alongside one of a young Jacob staring into the lava lamp in his room. Barnaby is also one of the few members of Carewyn's friend group who Lane actively invited over to their flat over the summer, and when he came over, the two of them geeked over some old handwritten notes by Newt Scamander that Lane had borrowed after a recent trip to the Scamander Museum archives in New York.

Mum, if it's not too much trouble, over the holidays, can we stop by the CD store down the road? I want to get Chiara something special for Christmas.

Out of all of Carewyn's friends, Chiara Lobosca was the one Lane became the most fond of, aside from Bill and Rowan. Not only were Chiara's and Lane's personalities very well-suited to each other, but Lane could see the pure, unmitigated love Chiara had for "her Winnie," and it just flooded her heart with so much joy. Chiara is one of the other few friends Lane invited over to her and Carewyn's flat over the summer, and they had a lovely visit over tea and pikelets. She also met Chiara's parents briefly when they came to pick her up, as well as at Chiara and Carewyn's graduation: Chiara's mother Donna in particular greeted Lane very kindly and gushed over Carewyn profusely. Lane was very flattering of Chiara in return, which made the Hufflepuff blush. Chiara didn't tell Lane she was a werewolf for a long while, since she was harbored some fears that Lane wouldn't want her around Carewyn anymore if she knew. Fortunately when she finally explained to Lane about her condition and that Carewyn had become an Animagus to keep her company during full moons, Lane responded very warmly and gave Chiara the biggest hug.

"I couldn't have asked for a better friend for my Winnie," she'd said.

In other news, Talbott Winger actually called me his friend the other day. It feels weird to hear him say it aloud, but really good, all the same.

Talbott Winger was the last of Carewyn's friends to be directly invited by Lane over to their flat over the summer, after Lane and Carewyn saw a flyer about a slam poetry session going on at a local Muggle bookstore and Carewyn offhandedly remarked that Talbott would love something like that. The three of them ended up having a really nice time, and afterward Lane invited Talbott over to their place for a proper Toad-in-the-hole supper. Lane enjoyed Talbott's wry sense of humor, which was very in-tune with Carewyn's -- Talbott appreciated Lane's extensive knowledge of History of Magic, which was a subject he'd never excelled in. He also borrowed a copy of Homer's Odyssey from Lane, after a long discussion they'd had over supper about Greek epic poetry.

I had my first Divination class with Professor Trelawney today. I wish I could say it was fun, but I found the class rather woolly. I wouldn't mind asking Torvus what he thinks about human Divination now that I've taken my first class, because I can't imagine that he and his herd throwing a hysterical fit over a clump of soggy tea leaves.

Lane was incredibly intrigued by Torvus. Although Carewyn neglected to tell Lane exactly how they'd met, her mother gathered that Torvus had known Charlie first. After learning Carewyn had befriended a centaur, however, Lane sent a very long letter back not only offering her what little she knew about centaur history, but also asking if Carewyn would pass along some of her own questions to Torvus as well.

I swung by the Prefects’ Bathroom briefly after doing my nightly rounds with Charlie. While there I saw the ghost who lives there, who’s named Duncan — I met him earlier this year, while Bill was showing Charlie and me around. He can be a bit of a prat sometimes, but you’d like him a lot, Mum. I hope I can introduce him to you someday.

Carewyn didn’t give her mother full context about who Duncan Ashe was, since talking about who he was to Jacob would’ve opened up the floodgates to Carewyn herself seeking out the Cursed Vaults, but she still couldn’t help but bring him up every-so-often. Lane got the impression that Carewyn felt sorry for Duncan since he was stuck haunting the Prefects’ Bathroom all by himself, and she was charmed by it, imagining Carewyn was so sensitive a soul that she even befriended ghosts if she thought they were lonely. Obviously there was a lot more to why Carewyn interacted with Duncan than that, and when Lane did get a full explanation about who Duncan was, she understandably was very upset, especially with the Hogwarts staff for not telling her that her son lost his best friend right before he was expelled. After the Cursed Vaults were dealt with and Duncan was finally laid to rest, Lane made the extreme step of actually reaching out to Duncan’s father asking for a picture of him and wanting to know where she could pay her respects. She was shocked and dismayed when Mr. Ashe informed her that he’d “shed” all of Duncan’s belongings after his death and so had no pictures to send her. He’d also had Duncan cremated and his ashes scattered at sea. After sending back a coldly disapproving letter making clear that Duncan had been loved dearly by her family and she at least would pay the respects that Mr. Ashe seemed determined to deny his son, Lane then went out of her way to track down as many photos of Duncan as she could from Hogwarts's staff and Jacob's school friend, Olivia Green. The best of these Lane framed and hung up near her small cauldron set up in the kitchen. When Jacob saw the little tribute his mother had made for his boy best friend, he threw his arms around her, unable to stop crying.

Thanks to Merula of all people, I actually have a new sparring partner: the Dueling Club's darling, Diego Caplan. I admit, I never really spoke to Diego before, as he always came across as overly flirtatious...after getting to know him better, though, all I can really do is laugh, because for however over-the-top and theatrical he is, I think he is actually sincere in his compliments! He acts like a total Casanova, but it really seems as though he's just the sort to wear all of his emotions on his sleeve -- the biggest, brightest, flashiest sleeve imaginable. And yet he'll roll up that sleeve and hand your arse to you on the Dueling Field, with no reservations. It's kind of hilarious, actually.

Diego was another friend that seemed completely opposite to Carewyn in every way, largely because Lane had so much difficulty imagining her overly sensitive daughter dueling seriously. It was one thing for Carewyn to duel with Bill, who Lane knew was also very nurturing and gentle with his friends and would never really want to hurt anybody, but to learn Carewyn was enjoying dueling with someone as hard-core competitive in it as Diego was surprising. It made Lane wish all the more that Jacob had considered joining the Dueling Club full-time when he was at school, since he would've enjoyed having an opponent as talented and yet amiable as Diego. When Lane met Diego in passing at Carewyn's graduation, Diego did not hesitate in turning on the charm even with her, which tickled Lane to no end.

"Careful, young man," she said with a wry smile. "I know plenty of younger women would swoon at such compliments."

One small advantage to being in detention has been the company. Charlie and Ben's dormmate Jae Kim is there right along with me, and we've been able to talk while we're working, so long as we're quiet. Oh yes, I’ve learned something new about Charlie today: apparently he sings Queen badly in the shower.

Carewyn was generally very understated in how she talked about Jae, aside from the fact that he was in detention often, so Lane surmised he was a “troublemaker” sort, akin to Tonks and Tulip. During the Second War, Lane also learned Jae was one of those friends of Carewyn’s helping keep other families hidden from the Death Eaters. Jae and Lane finally met when he catered the party Carewyn and Orion held after their partnership ceremony, and she took to him far more than she’d imagined she would after they ended up in an involved conversation about saving money on various food ingredients and household goods. Lane was very touched to hear Jae was so financially supportive of his mother, instantly reminded of how much Jacob and Carewyn tried to help her out around the house while they were low on funds. Jae now will reach out to Lane whenever he needs input on anything Muggle-related — no offense, Mr. Weasley, but Lane is that bit more experienced in this field than you are.

The Frog Choir’s been rehearsing hard for the graduation ceremony. Merula has a solo in their performance of In Noctem — I gather Snape likes the piece just as much as you do.

From the moment Lane first read about Merula Snyde, she really hoped that Carewyn and she would either find some common ground and make peace or that Carewyn would just put some distance between them. Yes, perhaps Merula sounded unpleasant, but the last thing Lane wanted for either of her bairns was for them to have "enemies." After Carewyn and Merula both stayed with the Weasleys for Christmas, Lane was a bit more hopeful that the two girls would be able to mend fences, but that hope persisted largely because she was unaware of just how much Merula was getting in Carewyn's way while pursuing the Cursed Vaults. This is ultimately why she encouraged Carewyn to consider letting Merula take the open spot on the Frog Choir after her daughter asked her for advice -- Lane thought that it sounded like Merula didn't have a safe space to sing happily at home the way Carewyn herself did, and perhaps the spot on the Choir could give Merula a constructive outlet for her negative emotions, the way that it often had for her while living at the Cromwell estate. By the time Carewyn and Merula both graduated, even if neither of them classified each other as friends, they had come together in large part because of them co-founding the Circle of Khanna with Bill, Charlie, and Ben. This made it so that when Lane saw Merula at Carewyn's graduation, she embraced her fully and praised her performance with the Frog Choir. Lane also noticed Merula eying the heck out of Jacob at the ceremony. Rather than feel any matchmaker-esque urges in response to this, though, she ended up trying to gently coax "her Blue Jay" elsewhere. The last thing Lane wanted was for Jacob to cause unnecessary drama at his and Carewyn's graduation by accidentally hurting Merula's feelings with his utter cluelessness.

"How long has Merula been sweet on your brother?" Lane murmured to Carewyn at one point.

Carewyn was unable to hold back an eye roll. "Since last year. She loved the fact that Jacob wiped the floor with me in a wizard duel."

Lane winced. "I see." She paused very briefly before saying, "...Well, that's not going to go anywhere."

"Nope."

The Halloween Feast had been just as much fun as Artemis had expected, and she was grateful to Merula for persuading her to go. She was even more grateful the next morning, when Merula approached her at the Hufflepuff table over breakfast and promised to keep an eye on Victor Ketsueki’s mysterious extracurricular activities for her.

“Really?” said Penny, with a sigh. “Honestly, Artemis. I really don’t believe that Victor is the thief.”

“And I really believe that he is.”

“That’s only because you don’t like him. Why would he even steal all those things?”

“I dunno. Maybe it’s to pay for all his stupid new clothes,” Artemis suggested.

“But Jae said half of the things weren’t even that valuable. You know what they all were, though?”

“Shiny?”

“Reflective,” Penny corrected her. “Which means that it wouldn’t make any sense whatsoever for Victor to take them, because vampires don’t even have a reflection.”

Artemis sighed. There was no point in arguing. At least this month there would be a good distraction from the search for the thief and the endless N.E.W.T. preparation: along with the dark nights, cold winds, and morning frosts, November brought with it the first two matches of the Quidditch season. 

The first match saw Andre Egwu’s debut as Ravenclaw Captain, and his team’s defeat by Gryffindor. The following weekend marked the Hufflepuff’s first game, in which they were up against Slytherin.

“Last week’s match was a relatively close run thing, which means that although Gryffindor is in the lead, it is only by a small margin,” said Murphy, as the team gathered in the changing tents before the start of the match. “Now, I’ve been hearing the odd rumour about the Slytherin team’s strategy this year-”

“Penny told me that they’re planning on cheating!”

“There are only so many fouls they will be able to get away with,” Murphy said. “Keep level heads, work steadily on getting that points advantage, and the match should be ours.”

“Will be ours,” said Tonks, a confidence in her voice that didn’t quite match the white knuckles that gripped her Beater’s bat.

“Well, we can’t know that for sure. There are no certainties in Quidditch, after all. But you’re a strong team, and our strategies are sound. I’d say that the probability of our success is fair to good.”

“Thanks, Murph. Great pep talk.”

Murphy beamed at the compliment, and led the team out onto the pitch, where the whole school had gathered to watch the match. Up in the commentary box, a second year Gryffindor boy had taken over Murphy’s former role, and Artemis saw Murphy’s eyes flicker upwards as the boy began to speak.

“And here comes the Hufflepuff team, captained by Murphy McNully, who taught me everything I know. The Hufflepuffs actually have the greatest ratio of female to male players, with Beater David Willows being the only wizard on the team. A very lucky bloke, if you ask me. I’m sure that he’s been having the time of his life in those changing tents…”

“Jordan,” a second voice, which Artemis recognised as that of Professor McGonagall, growled into the microphone.

“Sorry, Professor. What I meant to say is that I’m sure David Willows has been behaving like a perfect gentleman, and that this respectful behaviour is bound to carry through onto the pitch,” the new commentator said quickly. “Whether the same thing can be said for the Slytherin players remains to be seen. New Captain Marcus Flint has put together a rather formidable side, but I have been reliably informed by one of the final year girls - I didn’t catch her name, but she was very pretty, blonde, great-”

“Jordan!”

“- personality, Professor McGonagall. I don’t know what you thought I was going to say there. So, my charming seventh year friend told me that someone else told… Anyway, rumour has it that Slytherin’s Bakari Nyoka has quit the team after a disagreement with Flint over some of his more unorthodox strategies for the game. Whether Flint has anything dodgy up his sleeve, and whether new Seeker Terence Higgs will go along with his shady schemes… Wait, what was that, Professor?” There was a dry whisper through the microphone, before Jordan sighed audibly and added, “Professor Snape has asked me to point out that these comments are merely - what was the word? - conjecture, and that there is no evidence to suggest that the Slytherin Captain intends to engage in any form of foul play. Okay, but I’m just saying what I’ve heard, Professor. What now?”

As Jordan continued to have a hushed argument with Professor Snape in the commentary box, both the Hufflepuff and Slytherin teams lined up in the centre of the pitch. Murphy wheeled over to shake hands with Flint, the Slytherin Captain, who made a point of bending down to reach him, a patronising smirk on his face. Behind him, a couple of the other players sniggered. Artemis glared at all of them, especially the Seeker, Higgs. 

“I’m going to catch the Snitch from right under his big, ugly nose,” she murmured to Tonks. 

“I’ll throw my bat at him,” Tonks concurred, already brandishing the Beater’s bat. 

“Isn’t that a foul?”

“Dont know, don’t care.”

The two of them, along with the rest of the players, rose into the air, high above Madam Hooch and Murphy, who remained in the centre of the below. Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth, and took hold of the Quaffle in her hands. With the blow of the whistle and an upwards throw of the Quaffle, the game began.

“Look at them go!” Jordan shouted. “Hufflepuff’s Ellie Hopper takes possession of the Quaffle, dodges a near-tackle, passes to Beatrice Haywood. Haywood takes the Quaffle towards the Slytherin goalposts - oh, that was close - and she passes to Cordelia Costa. Ooh, tough luck, Hufflepuff! Pass intercepted by Flint; Slytherin now in possession.”

The Slytherin Captain passed the Quaffle to one of his fellow Chasers, who carried the ball towards the Hufflepuff goalposts, flanked by Flint and the third Slytherin Chaser. She kept hold of the Quaffle, not passing to either of her teammates, and therefore not giving the Hufflepuff Chasers a chance to intercept. Ellie Hopper flew beneath the group as Bea Haywood attempted to fly into their formation, clearly looking to knock the Quaffle out of the Slytherin Chaser’s hands for Ellie to catch, but she was elbowed out of the way so hard that she was almost knocked off her broom. 

As the Slytherins approached the scoring zone, Flint suddenly accelerated towards the goalposts, where Amelia Booth was guarding the three hoops. Her eyes widened as he flew straight at her, and seconds later, he had collided with her, knocking her clear out of the way of the goal as the Chaser with the Quaffle took aim. With no Keeper to stop it, the Quaffle flew through one of the empty hoops, and a roar of applause rang out from the Slytherin stands.

But above the din of the spectators came a sharp whistle. On the ground, Madam Hooch was calling to the Slytherin Chasers and Amelia, beckoning them down to the ground to talk to her. Keeping one eye out for the Snitch, Artemis flew lower so that she could hear what was being said.

“I didn’t know it was a foul, Madam Hooch,” Flint was telling the umpire. “That’s how my family always used to play.”

Madam Hooch pursed her lips. “Stooging has been a foul for a long time-”

“Since 1888,” Murphy interjected.

“- a fact which you, as team Captain, should be well aware of,” continued Madam Hooch. Flint opened his mouth to argue and she held up a hand to stop him. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the excessive use of elbows on Miss Haywood, either. I know that you know cobbing is a foul, Flint, I’ve penalised you enough for it over the last two years.”

“It’s not my fault she got in the way of my elbows…”

Madam Hooch blew her whistle again, drowning out the Slytherins’ protests, and the players took to the sky once more.

“Slytherin score, but because the goal was the result of a foul, it is disallowed,” Jordan announced. “Hufflepuff is awarded two free penalties, one for the foul of Keeper Amelia Booth, and one for the foul of Beatrice Haywood.”

Bea and Cordelia lined up to take their penalties, and though the Slytherin Keeper saved the shot that Bea aimed at the goal, the Quaffle soared past his outstretched fingers after it left Cordelia’s hands and went straight through the hoop behind him.

“Costa scores!” shouted Jordan, over the applause from the Hufflepuff stands. “After all that, the score is ten points to Hufflepuff, nil to Slytherin!”

Artemis took both her hands off her broomstick to clap, but quickly replaced them as a Bludger soared past her, the turbulence it caused in the air buffeting her sideways. She frowned, looking in the direction from which the Bludger had come. The Quaffle was not back in play yet, which meant that the Beaters should not have been aiming Bludgers at other players. 

It seemed that once again, however, the Slytherins were not playing by the rules. Behind her, one of their Beaters still had his bat raised, a hard expression on his face. But it was not Artemis that his glare and his Bludger were aimed at: it was Cordelia. Artemis’ mouth dropped open.

“Cordelia, look out!”

It was too late; the Bludger that had just flown past Artemis continued its trajectory, soaring through the sky towards Cordelia Costa, who was facing the other way. The Bludger hit her over her hip, and the force with which it did so sent her lurching forward and to the side, and off her broomstick. She fell downwards, slowing magically as Madam Hooch put down the Quaffle to cast a spell. 

Artemis turned back again to look at the Beater who had aimed the Bludger at Cordelia, but he had already lowered his bat and was looking the other way.

“Ouch! A rogue Bludger makes contact with Costa, knocking her off her broom and out of the game! What a rollercoaster this game is turning out to be!”

“What’s a rollercoaster?” Tonks asked Artemis, flying to her side.

“No idea,” replied Artemis, “but that wasn’t a rogue Bludger, it was that Beater hitting it at her!”

Tonks’ yellow eyebrows furrowed. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“We need to tell Madam Hooch.”

But with Artemis as the only witness, and the Slytherin Beater swearing blind that he hadn’t done it, Madam Hooch was unable to do anything about the foul.

“It’s one person’s word against another, I’m afraid,” she said, eyeing the Beater sceptically. “As you were, everybody.”

The match recommenced, but now it was more like a battle than a game, with both teams fighting tooth and nail to get a lead over the other. Though the Hufflepuffs were down a Chaser, they were able to hold on to their point advantage. Thanks to the combined efforts of Tonks and David Willows, the Slytherin Beater who had knocked Cordelia off her broomstick suffered the same fate himself, and due to several incidents in which the Slytherin Chasers were caught cobbing Beatrice and Ellie, they were awarded even more penalties. 

“Hopper scores again, making the score seventy to thirty,” Jordan informed the crowd. “But what’s this? It looks like Hexley has eyes on the Snitch!”

Jordan wasn’t wrong; Artemis had indeed seen the Snitch, and was already in hot pursuit of the little golden ball, accelerating across the pitch in order to catch it before Higgs the Slytherin Seeker, who was already on her tail. But Artemis was faster, and she was gaining on the Snitch, almost there now, so close to reaching out and -

“HEY!” 

Artemis shouted as Marcus Flint the Slytherin Captain moved straight into her flight path, too quickly for her to brake in time before she hit him. Luckily, she had her body flattened against her broomstick into a diving position, so rather than being thrown off it, she was able to grip and roll with the broom as she veered off course. In doing so, however, she had lost sight of the Snitch.

Unfortunately, Higgs had not, and before Madam Hooch had the chance to blow her whistle to award Hufflepuff yet another penalty, the Slytherin Seeker had captured the ball. The game was over.

“Flint blocks Hexley, allowing Higgs to get the Snitch! Hufflepuff end the game with seventy points, but Slytherin win with one hundred and eighty!”

The Slytherin stands erupted with cheers, and the Slytherin players all soared over to Higgs to congratulate him. Meanwhile, the Hufflepuffs flew back down to the ground and trudged back to the changing tents dejected, disappointed, and angry.

“I don’t understand why there can’t be a rematch,” said Chiara, frowning over the top of her Butterbeer. “If the Slytherin Seeker only caught the Snitch because their Captain tried to knock Artemis off her broomstick, then why wouldn’t they say that it didn’t count?”

“Because that’s not how Quidditch works,” Penny informed her. “Besides, Snitches have flesh memories. They are issued for each game, so they know exactly who caught which Snitch when. They’d have to order a new Snitch to call a rematch, and it’s not like they’re cheap. And anyway, Marcus Flint has already been telling everyone that he didn’t mean to block Artemis, he was moving out of the way of a Bludger, and that’s why he ended up in her way instead.”

“But that’s a lie!”

“Well, yes, I know that. But it’s what he told Laila Farhat and Waveney Wiley, and they seemed to believe him when I spoke to them.”

Artemis rolled her eyes and finished her Butterbeer. One week after the Hufflepuff’s defeat, the match was still anyone could talk about in the Common Room. She had hoped that going out to the Three Broomsticks would give her and her friends something else to discuss, but clearly, she had been wrong. 

“Anyone want another?” she asked, seeing that Rosmerta was free at the bar. “It’s my round.” 

Madam Rosmerta greeted Artemis as if she hadn’t seen her in years rather than in weeks.

“I’ve been hoping you’d pop in,” the landlady told her, after she had released her from a tight hug. “I’m starting to really book up for Christmas, and I was wondering-”

“If you can rent out my room?”

“Whether you wanted to stay here over the holidays,” Madam Rosmerta said pointedly. “If you don’t, I’ll rent out the room, but I thought I’d offer it to you first.”

Artemis wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

“Because I like having you here, love.”

“Oh,” Artemis bit her lip. “The thing is, Ros, my friends are all staying at the castle, because it’s our last year to do it, so…”

“That’s what I thought,” Rosmerta smiled. “I just wanted to check.”

“I can still come and visit you, though. Because we’re seventeen we can leave the grounds as long as we sign in and out and are back before curfew.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” said Ros, summoning over a set of pint glasses. “Four pints?”

“Five,” Charlie Weasley walked out from behind the bar and placing another glass on the counter. “I’m just going on my break. I’m guessing you lot won’t mind me joining you?”  

“As long as you don’t mind everyone talking about last week’s Quidditch match,” Artemis rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we lost. I don’t know why we need to keep going on about it.”

Charlie’s lips twitched. “You know, you can’t catch the Snitch every single time you play Quidditch, Artemis.”

“I know, I just… Hang on. You’ve never played a game and not caught the Snitch.”

“No, that’s why said you can’t do it. I obviously can,” Charlie grinned. Artemis pulled a face at him.

“I liked you better before anyone fancied you,” she said, before sighing heavily. “Anyway, it’s not my fault that Flint got in my way.”

“No, he definitely blocked you on purpose. But luckily the point margin was fairly low, all things considered.”

“That’s what Murphy said. He’s gone through the numbers and if we manage to do well in the next couple of matches we can still win the Cup.”

“That reminds me,” Madam Rosmerta stopped pouring out Butterbeers and reached into her pocket. “Talking of winning… I saw this and thought of you.”

She handed Artemis a folded scrap of newspaper, and frowning, Artemis unfolded it and read aloud:

“‘This marks the Daily Prophet’s Forty-Ninth Annual Photography Award, and this year, the theme is ‘Beasts’. Entries due by the thirty-first of December 1990. First prize award of fifty Galleons.’”

“I thought you might like to enter,” Ros smiled. “Put that camera of yours to good use, maybe win yourself some money.”

“Yeah. I might be able to take a photo in Care of Magical Creatures class,” said Artemis, nodding slowly.

“Or you could try tracking something,” Charlie suggested. “Your Great-Uncle must be great at tracking.”

“Yeah, but he’s not back from South America until the new year, and the competition closes at the end of December. He took me with him tracking a couple of times when I was little but I never learnt that much. Not enough to find anything by myself, anyway.”

“Well, I could go with you.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” Artemis asked, and Charlie shrugged in response. 

“Course not. It would be good to get some real practice in,” he said. “We can take our broomsticks into the forest tomorrow evening, if you like?”

Artemis smiled and pocketed the newspaper.

“Hopefully, I’ll have more luck getting this photo than I did getting that Snitch,” she muttered darkly.

Unfortunately for Artemis, it quickly transpired that tracking was much harder than she remembered it being. 

“Any luck?” she asked Charlie, who was crouching next to the roots of an old and incredibly gnarled tree.

“None,” he grimaced. “Sorry, mate. I was expecting to find more than this. Maybe we should come back some other time.”

“Might be for the best. We’ve been here for three hours and all we have is one picture of an owl and a few of Borf.”

“I really like the ones of Borf.”

“They’re good, I just don’t know if a wolf is what the Prophet means by ‘beast’. They might be looking for something more magical,” Artemis frowned. “And anyway, I don’t think they’re good enough to win.”

“They might be,” Charlie shrugged. “Tell you what. How about we go to the next clearing and if we still haven’t found anything, we try again next weekend?”

It was worth a try, Artemis supposed, and so the two of them made their way deeper through the trees to the next clearing. It was lighter here, and the shadows of the trees cast abstract shadows on the ground, which was strewn with the remains of the autumn leaves, their fiery colours contrasting with the still green pines. If it had been the scenery alone she needed to photograph, she would have been happy, but sadly, there was not a beast to be found.

Or was there? From somewhere in the undergrowth came a rustling noise and the sound of of a twig snapping. Artemis looked across at Charlie, her mouth already open ready to ask him if he had heard the noise, but he placed his finger to his lips, frowning. Clearly, he had already heard it.

“What’s the matter?” whispered Artemis. “Why do you look-”

Artemis’ question was answered before she had finished asking it. From out of the trees stepped a centaur, his dun coloured fur blending into the tanned skin of his bare chest. Recognising the centaur’s face, Artemis breathed a sigh of relief, and she saw Charlie’s shoulders relax as he did the same.

“Torvus,” said Charlie, lowering his head slightly as he addressed the centaur. “It’s good to see you. How have you been?”

“Unsettled,” came the centaur’s answer. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“We live in unsettled times,” replied Torvus, and his dark eyes rested on Artemis momentarily. “It has been a long time since we last saw each other, Charles Weasley. You are grown. You must take more care in the forest, now.”

“I will do so. Thank you,” Charlie nodded.

“As must you, Artemis Hexley. You must take particular care.”

Artemis’ nose wrinkled. “Why?”

“We live in unsettled times,” Torvus repeated himself. “There are many who might blame you for this. Thankfully, many others will see that you could be the one to find the solution, and will protect you as such. Do you still have the amber I gave you when you were a foal?”

“Yeah, I do,” Artemis said, choosing not to mention that she had never been a foal.

“Do you have it with you now?”

“Um, no...”

“You should have it with you every time you venture into the forest,” said Torvus, and his dark tail swished. “Why haveyou come to the forest?”

“I’m taking photos,” Artemis told the centaur, holding up her camera to show him. Torvus shifted on his hooves, frowning at the camera. 

“Photos?”

“Yeah, I have to take a photo of a beast. It’s for a competition, you see.”

“I do not see,” said the centaur. “What are photos?”

“Oh, right. Well, a photo… It’s a sort of picture, but not painted or drawn or anything, it’s real,” Artemis’ eyebrows furrowed. “It’s like you can capture something you’ve seen, a memory, and hold it so you can keep seeing it, so you don’t lose it or forget it.” Torvus still looked confused, so Artemis held up her camera once more and told him, “Here, let me show you. Just stay still a moment.”

Artemis raised her camera to her eye and pointed it at Torvus, who tensed up, eyeing the item with a look of mistrust on his face and one hand instinctively resting on the bow at his hip. She pressed the button, and when the photo printed from beneath it, held it against her chest for almost a minute before looking at the result and handing it to the centaur. 

“Here,” she said. “This one is of you.”

“It is like a reflection,” Torvus murmured, looking at the photograph of himself. “The likeness is uncanny.”

It was a good likeness, and an excellent photo, far better than the one Artemis had taken of the owl, and even better than her favourites of Borf. The dappled light was shining on Torvus’ fur, his muscles tensed and his face hardened as he looked directly at the camera. He looked dangerous and wise and wild, human yet animalistic.

“Torvus, I was just wondering… As a centaur, would you say that you are a being or a beast?”

“A beast.”

“Why is that?“

“To menfolk, putting a name to something is a step to understanding it. For them, understanding something a step to controlling and exploiting it. We centaurs understand that there are many things that we will never understand, nor be able to control. We abide by the laws of nature, not those of men. If that makes us beasts in the eyes of wizards, I would prefer to be a beast.” He scraped one hoof on the ground, his tail whipping suddenly. “I understand now. You wish to use this likeness that you have captured for this competition of yours.”

“No. Well, not necessarily,” Artemis shook her head, although now that Torvus mentioned it, she realised that she could well do just that. “I was just asking because I meant to ask you the first time we met, and I never did. I should have done, because my friend wanted to know. She was interested in the answer, you see, and now… Well, she died, and now she won’t ever know, but I still wanted to find out for her, even though she’s gone.”

“This friend meant a lot to you,” Torvus said quietly, and Artemis nodded her head. “You have suffered a great loss.”

He held the photo out, offering it back to her. But even though Artemis knew that it could well be the photo to win her the competition, using it - using Torvus - felt wrong somehow. 

“You can keep it,” she said to him. “It’s a photo of you just as you are now. One day you can show it to your foals and they will know what you looked like when you were young.”

Torvus placed the photo into his saddlebag, a pensive look on his face.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you, Artemis Hexley,” he murmured. “Maybe we need not be so wary of you, after all. We shall meet again, I am sure of it. Take care of yourself, Charles Weasley.”

“You too, Torvus,“ said Charlie, but Torvus had already turned from him and returned to the trees from whence he had come. Charlie watched his leave with his head tilted to one side. “That’s strange.”

“I mean, he’s always been a bit strange,” Artemis replied.

“Not his behaviour,” Charlie shook his head. “I just thought I heard something on that side of the clearing, and he came out from this side.”

He fell silent and seemed to be listening for something. Artemis followed suit. Charlie was right. There was a noise coming from the other side of the clearing. The two of them exchanged dark looks, and both raised their wands as they walked across the clearing to investigate.

At the base of a tree, a patch of ferns was rustling, and a soft snuffling sound was coming from it. Charlie pointed at Artemis’ camera, and she held it in position to capture another shot. She nodded at Charlie, who waved his wand, and the foliage parted to reveal…

“A Niffler?” Artemis said out loud, lowering her camera. “What in the name of Merlin’s hairy back is a Niffler doing here?”

“I dunno,” Charlie said, and the Niffler ran up to him, snorting at his boots. He frowned deeply. “Artemis, I know one Niffler looks very similar to another, but… You don’t think that this one looks really familiar, do you?”

Artemis tilted her head as she looked at the Niffler, who looked at her and chirped excitedly.

“Sickleworth, is that you?” she asked it, and the Niffler jumped up and down, making a noise like coins jingling as it did so. “It is you, Sickleworth!” 

Sickleworth ran over to Artemis and leapt into her arms. He had not grown since she had last seen him, but he was heavier than she remembered him being. Far heavier. Frowning, she reached into his pouch, ignoring his indignant snorts, and took out the first item her fingers reached: a gold pin-badge shaped like a Snitch. She rolled her eyes and laughed quietly. Why had no one thought of this before?