A Bouquet Of New Beginnings: Chapter 26 "Peony II"

A Bouquet of New Beginnings: Chapter 26 "Peony II"

Summary: After the Scriptorium/2nd trial

Floriography: Life & Death

Full Chapter: [AO3]//6.9k words

Excerpt below:

The last of the leaves barely clung to the tree branches just outside Professor Fig’s office windows.

“Artemis, are you sure that you are alright?”

Artemis nodded. Cotton was sandpaper and the chill resembled a ravenous bite. But these were exaggerations on what was normal; two weeks in the Hospital Wing was enough.  

“Yes, sir. Thank you, for your patience.”

“Don’t thank me, Artemis,” said Professor Fig as his eyebrows furrowed. “Frankly I’d prefer we delay this until the new year, but I’m afraid the Keepers were right. That castle is swarming with Rookwood and Ranrok’s lot, and waiting longer could mean more trouble. Not the friendliest of alliances, but still. Come. Let’s head to the nearest spot to apparate.”

The moment the two of them reached beyond the anti-apparition perimeter, they disillusioned themselves – and she casted a pre-emptive Sensory Balancing Charm – before Professor Fig apparated them both to what appeared to be right inside the castle walls just behind a set of tents.

It appeared to be the edges of a courtyard, and in prime seating a heated conversation between Rookwood and Ranrok. The top hat wearing man paced back and forth, gesticulating as Ranrok remained stern. His armour looked… even more entrenched in the red globular magic.

“If I’d known your plan was to dig up half the country- “

“I wouldn’t have to dig if you could simply manage to bring me that snow-haired child you disgustingly call a rabbit,” growled Ranrok.

Rookwood spat. “We wouldn’t need her if you hadn’t sent a dragon retrieve the container, I spent months and countless Ministry favours tracking.”

“You let them board the carriage.” Ranrok jabbed his finger.

“Have you not acquired enough power here?” Rookwood gestured around himself. “I allowed you to tunnel under my family home – “

“ALLOWED ME?” Ranrok bellowed. “You are here only because you are descended from a Keeper and may at some point inadvertently become valuable. We have an agreement. I will share with you the power that I discovered if you locate the stores of magic that are yet to be found.”

Ranrok’s shoulder pads and gauntlets glowered like heated iron or lava. Yet from his chest Artemis could see the faint waves of something red and black. Her skin prickled as the hairs on her arm stood.

“So, unless you want another demonstration of my power – a power that you one day hope to wield – bring her to me.”

With the final word – and glare – exchanged, Rookwood apparated away as Ranrok marched into the castle itself.

A few minutes passed before they broke their silence.

 “So that’s why they’re digging under Isidora’s house,” whispered Artemis.

“It seems that way. It’s also clear they both know about the Keepers. Highly disconcerting,” whispered Professor Fig. “Follow me; with all of the damage this castle’s weathered, there’s bound to be an entrance through the battlements.”

The familiar scent of chai guided Artemis near her mentor through the battlements of the castle, and sure enough a bricked wall had weathered away into the upper levels of a severely beaten down central hall. Professor Fig held her hand as they apparated down to the lower level.

“Professor, those buttons.”

“Hm? You mean those bronze things? Wait, that symbol…”

“Yes, I recognise it from the library. Let me just –” Artemis started as she sent off some basic casts toward the bronze buttons. The large door beyond the staircase glowed the typical ancient magic blue before it unlocked and opened forward.

“Incredible,” breathed Professor Fig. “This is different from the first trial entrance. Though I’m surprised it appears nobody used the door.”

“Professor Rackham mentioned my regular magic already imbues ancient magic,” explained Artemis as she followed Professor Fig’s footfall into what seemed to be a cellar. “Perhaps the symbol only reacts to my casts? Or, touch.”

“Perhaps. Though that leaves the question of how – oh.” Professor Fig paused as they entered the main part of the cellar. “I suppose that gaping hole explains how they got in. Drills.”

Dim sunlight poured into the dark cellar from a gargantuan hole in the ceiling. Bricks were strewn about haphazardly, clear that anything that had existed inside this portion of the cellar had been plundered.

“Professor?”

“Yes?”

“It’s… something’s glowing red down to our left,” whispered Artemis. “The same glow as Ranrok’s armour.”

“And that’s where the goblin tracks lead. Stay close.”

Only the sounds of their feet reverberated against the stone walls as they walked further down. In front of them opened a large, spherical cavern that seemed to have exploded. The earth was cracked as they reached closer to the source of red, and the hairs on the back of Artemis’ neck stood as her skin burned.

“This must be the store of magic that they were arguing about; it looks empty,” remarked Professor Fig.

Before them was a gargantuan silver object split open. Red veins pumped in the earth around it – ancient magic.

“Professor Rookwood mentioned that created ancient magic can be manipulated,” said Artemis as she ignored the pain. “Why would they store ancient magic like this?”

“I’m not sure, perhaps they believed a Keeper’s home was the safest location,” mused Professor Fig. “You said it is glowing red. Is the ancient magic still there?”

Artemis narrowed her eyes at the broken object in front of them as she ignored the way her skin cried for something to cool down.

“Not exactly. The magic itself seems to have been completely removed. It – it’s hard to explain. Um… it’s more like the fire kept in the hearth during the winter night.”

“Hm. Perhaps they need this so that the magic in their armour can continue to be used? I’ll dig through Miriam’s notes some more when we get back. For right now, let’s move. I’d rather not have another surprise run-in with Ranrok or Rookwood.”

“Agreed.”

“Now, where is that portrait… ah, perhaps that way,” said Professor Fig.

The pair followed through the hall and down the stairs; goblins and human tracks were both present. Her skin cooled the further they got from that object.

“Hello?”

Professor Rookwood’s voice rang from the empty frame.

“Professor Rookwood?” Artemis asked.

Professor Fig and Artemis both dropped their disillusionment as the stout man appeared in the frame.

“Oh thank Merlin. Artemis, we heard from Professor Fig. Are you alright?”

“I’m better, sir.”

She wasn’t alright, but she’d live.

“Sir, the ancient magic you had stored in in that odd silver container – it been taken by Ranrok and his Loyalists.”

“No! Things are more dire than I could have imagined. I still don’t understand how this Ranrok could’ve known-  it cannot be.”

“Professor,” cut in Professor Fig. “If Artemis is to complete the trial now and not after the New Year like I’d requested, I suggest we hurry so she can come back earlier and rest.”

Artemis blinked twice but smiled at the kindness Professor Fig offered. Professor Rookwood cleared his throat.

“Right. My apologies. This trial will ensure that you understand the power that you wield. Power without knowledge is dangerous indeed. In the wrong hands –“

Artemis bit her inner cheek to hold back from interjecting that it was already in the wrong hands.

“– We will simply have to outwit Ranrok – and my unfortunate namesake.”

Professor Rookwood waved his hand in the portrait; licks of ancient magic fluttered along her ankles before she revealed the hidden door. The ancient magic felt cooler as it erupted – a reprieve.

“I suppose this is where I must depart,” sighed Professor Fig. “Artemis. I know you are more than capable; I’ll be waiting in the Map Chamber for you. But please, please be careful. Take as much time as you need.”

 Artemis gave a final nod to her mentor before she stepped through the doors.

It was gaudier than the first trial, with notes of bright gold cracked through the walls and blue-green hues reflected on every surface. The floors of the high ceiling cavern were akin to stained glass; the interior seemed of a pristine castle meant for some sort of royalty.

<<Was this really necessary…>> mumbled Artemis as she continued forward.

Her legside bag had been replenished with healing potions, and she still had a few Flaming Frenzies. Spending two weeks in the Hospital bed had not been the plan, and it showed with her severe depletion of offence potions.

She did not run up the stairs or hurry on the path as she had last time. No, if this trial was anything like the first one, she needed to save her energy for the moving statues… and probably a gargantuan one at the end on the platform.

Admittedly, she appreciated the new puzzles with the hidden pillars; it meant that she could hide things using ancient magic itself. Or even hide entire spaces – was that the logic that Isidora used when she built the Undercroft?

She hadn’t bothered to pull out her throwing knife as she continued, fully expecting statues to come attack. Instead, she swallowed an improved Thunderbrew and pulled out a few of the Chinese Chomping Cabbage seeds, ready to toss and grow. She was right.

“Herbivicus.”

Nurse Blainey had warned her that too many spells so soon after recovery – despite her physical injuries being healed – could lead to backlash. The Python Curse had coiled around her magical channels and constricted them, and there were some residual effects. With the way her skin reacted at just the proximity of the red ancient magic, she didn’t want to risk being inoperable.

Surprisingly, the cabbages took care of the statues as the teeth seemingly sunk into stone. As if their fangs oozed of acid. They even took care of the invisible statues as some rolled beyond the awkward archway in the middle of the room.

Many short breaks, statues and puzzles later, she was faced with the unpleasant familiarity of the ground shaking, and a platform standing in the centre of the caverns. The only difference was that now it contained an archway– presumably for hidden spaces and the accompanying hidden statues.

<<Great. This is, great.>>

She pulled out her first Flaming Frenzy and pocketed it whilst knocking back another Thunderbrew and her Edurus. Her skin became black diamond itself, and the ever-pervasive pain numbed. Her wand was gripped tightly as the little plant seeds came out once more. She’d conserve her magic until the big one when she couldn’t avoid it. She could do this. She was going to make it.

The Chinese Chomping Cabbages were unleased to reign chaos as she dodged the axes and swords swung by the statues, many of whom exploded from the storm that encircled her. A Sticky Solution was thrown to entrap a few as she flicked her arm, sending the gaudy Faberge egg objects to smash them into smithereens. The roots of harvested Devil’s Snare were unleashed as they strangled the stone off the ledges.

As the final statue crumbled, the platform shook violently. The centre of the platform bubbled as something in a gaudy gold and blue-green arose.

<<Why couldn’t I be wrong?>> She muttered to herself as she threw the Flaming Frenzy right onto the fifteen-foot Pensieve Guardian.

Its ancient-magic cape lit ablaze momentarily as it was swallowed by the flaming tornado. She might not be at her best state spell-casting wise, but she’d done this before. She would not break bones this time.

“Reducto. Glacius. Diffindo. Confringo.”

One after another she casted her spells, each time feeling like her stomach twisted. An uncomfortable itch existed just under her skin as bile rose to her throat. Her veins sung as she reigned a tempest down upon the statue as it dropped to its knee.

It was only when the statue brought out the military flail when she swore.

“Mother of Christ,” she sputtered as she just barely dodged its reverberating smash upon the ground. “Evanesco.”

The flail vanished momentarily, and as the statue remained confused, she pulled out her second to last Flaming Frenzy and flung it. The tornado inferno spun its dance of glory as magical shards shot out at her; she deflected each with a Protego toward the guardian that stood within the centre of the blaze.

As the statue melted into the ground with the dying flames, her lungs heaved, and her body folded as her stomach emptied its contents. Her skin was on fire and her body shook violently despite no chill in the air. Backlash.

Breathe in. Two. Three. Four.

Out. Two. Three. Four.

She managed a wiggenweld down her throat, the cool minty taste a soothing balm despite the way her hand shook. It was a full hour that she remained folded on her knees, unable to leave the ground as her body wracked of magical backlash. Slowly, she stood and made her way across the newly floating bridge, her footing steady out of willpower alone.

The giant statue of Rookwood loomed over, his hands on the floor in stoned, complicated swirls above the pensieve. A single, silvery tear fell from his eye and formulated the artefact once more.

<<Mine now,>> she whispered as she touched her wand.

The artefact became the size of a marble before being slipped into her legside bag, and she placed her face into the basin.

The memory was a direct continuation of Professor Rackham’s memories, only this time she saw from Professor Rookwood’s eyes. The Keepers had arrived to Isidora’s home in Feldcroft and were led into her home. It was a simple, lovely home. Even through Professor Rookwood’s gaze, Artemis appreciated the apothecary cabinet, the hanging dried plants, and the myriads of ingredients in the clear jars.

Artemis recognised a few of the ingredients as specialised components for advanced Healing potions – Isidora must’ve been a Healer before becoming a professor.

“We’re ready,” called out Isidora as Professor Rookwood sat. “I’ve something to show you.”

A man came out of the back room, and even through Professor Rookwood’s eyes, she gasped sharply. It was the man in the first memory, the one that had supported the little boy. It must be her father, but his shoulders carried a heavy weight.

“Father hasn’t spoken since my brother died. On my travels, I confirmed that which I’ve always believed: that we have the power to take away pain,” stated Isidora.

Artemis watched in a mixture of horror and intrigue as Isidora pointed her wand at her father’s chest. The man gasped as if he’d not had a single breath in years, and when her wand pointed back into that strange jar in her hand, she could see something in the jar. A red and black something. Globular.

Just like Ranrok’s armour.

“This is uncharted magic, Isidora,” started Professor Rackham as he stood.

It was clear that the bearded professor was shocked, horrified even. Professor Fitzgerald appeared neutral, but Professor Bakar looked… intrigued. Professor Rookwood’s own thoughts were in that it was something unknown, so many unknown variables.

“You can only see what has been sealed in the jar – and we do not know what power that may hold. But the traces of that magic are different from what I’ve seen before.”

The memory concluded with the father, who had not spoken since Isidora’s brother’s death, uttered two words.

“Thank you.”

Artemis gasped as she lifted her head back up. Why wasn’t that memory from Professor Rackham’s view?!

There must’ve been something other than just the red, floating magic that he could see, but Professor Rookwood wouldn’t have been able to… no matter. She found the crystallised wall, now familiar, that would lead her back to the Map Chamber.

She added the crystallised wall, as well as forming invisible interdimensional spaces, onto the list of things she ‘knew’ about to be taught by the Keepers as she stepped through.

“Artemis!” Professor Fig exclaimed as his shoulders slumped and a smile spread across his features. “Welcome back. Are you alright?”

“It was better than last time, sir,” she explained simply. Which was true, she didn’t break any bones or get burned. Just, was very ill.

“Well, that is good. You do look a bit pale.”

“I’ll be fine, sir. I just – there’s a lot of questions I have after this time.”

“Right. Well, the professors are here as always. Come, hopefully they’ll give you the simple answers so you can hurry and rest,” said Professor Fig.

As they approached, the portraits looked up from their positions.

“You’re back!” Professor Rackham exclaimed softly. “Good. When Professor Fig told us of your unfortunate run-in with the Python Curse, we were incredibly concerned.”

“And we are glad you made it back to us in one piece,” added Professor Rookwood. “It is most fortunate that someone so competent is following this path.”

“I – right. I’ll keep the second artefact safe as you’ve advised.”

“Good. Are you ready to move on?”

“That memory – I only saw the red ebb of magic that appeared in the jar,” said Artemis as she looked toward Professor Rackham. “I imagine you saw more than that to horrify you so.”

The bearded portrait sighed. “Indeed. When Isidora pulled out the –”

“– pain – “cut in Professor Rookwood.

“– The pain, yes,” continued Professor Rackham. “I saw a strand of blue, red and black connected between Isidora’s father’s chest and the magic on the tip of her wand.”

“But her father wasn’t in any phys –.” Artemis’ eyes widened. “She pulled out his grief?”

“What?” Professor Fig asked incredulously.

Her thumb rubbed against the glamoured scar on her palm.

“But that doesn’t make sense. Emotions aren’t solid, and not –”

“– Artemis,” cut off Professor Rookwood. “It shall be explained in due time.”

A wizened hand touched her arm; she bit her tongue and nodded.

Professor Rackham cleared his throat. “For now, allow me to introduce former Hogwarts headmistress, Niamh Fitzgerald.”

 To Professor Rookwood’s left, a woman appeared in academic regalia with her crowned, braided auburn hair. Her spine was completely straight as she looked down with kindly eyes.

“How do you do? It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Artemis Loreley.”

Professor Fitzgerald spoke with a heavy Scottish accent; her voice exuded wisdom.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Professor.”

“Excellent. Considering you’ve already completed two trials, I am certain you are more than capable of completing mine,” said Professor Fitzgerald. “However, I must first – how shall I say – ‘prepare’ the location of your next trial.”

Artemis and Professor Fig looked to each other. Didn’t they have everything prepared?

Professor Rackham cleared his throat. “We trust your judgment, Professor Fitzgerald. You should know better than anyone how to manage the inconvenience of, well – “

“- a vainglorious and exasperating headmaster? Indeed I should.”

“Headmaster Black?” Artemis asked aloud. Where could the trial be to warrant something – “His office?”

Professor Fitzgerald’s oil-painted eyes lit up.

“Charles was right – you are bright. Yes, well. I will see to it that the location is prepared.”

“Professor Fitzgerald will require some time to clear the way forward. I suppose in the meantime, we shall resume our training now that you are fully healed?”

“Actually,” Professor Fig started, “the school’s term exams are coming up next week, and Artemis did only just recover from the harrowing ordeal. I’d like to suggest that the trial be done, no matter how early, to be after the holidays. This applies to the ancient magic training as well.”

The oil-painted professors all hummed.

“We agree,” said Professor Rackham. “But if you hear anything about Ranrok or this Victor Rookwood’s movements, please let us know. Until then, Professor Fig. Artemis.”

Artemis mutely nodded before she followed Professor Fig up to his office. The warm chai seemed slightly too hot between her palms as she sunk into ‘her’ armchair.

“Have you heard from Lodgok? About the helmet?” Professor Fig asked as he sat across from her.

“Not yet, sir. Though I don’t imagine it would be a simple walk into Ranrok’s territory, especially since it seems like he defected,” said Artemis.

She was still stuck on the memory she’d seen. Isidora had pulled grief from her father’s chest. Was that what she meant in the note when she said there were other way to help people? To heal people? To take away their grief?

“Artemis, you mentioned that Isidora pulled out grief out of her father?”

“Yes. That’s the only thing I could imagine – Professor, how is that even possible?”

Professor Fig hummed into his cup as he fiddled with his scarf.

“Magic is very complex, and there’s so much that we don’t know.” Professor Fig placed his cup down and folded his hands together. “I believe we discussed that emotion is a powerful magic on its own. I imagine… if Isidora figured out a way to have certain emotions attach to latent magic itself, then it is possible. However unbelievable it may seem.”

Artemis sipped her chai; the spices warmed her throat.

“But grief can be attached to so many different things. Memories of happier times. Sadness. Anger. It’s…” she trailed off.

She didn’t know where she wanted to go with this. Professor Fig shook his head.

“I don’t know, Artemis. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t find out. Hopefully, there will be other memories or research to clarify this.”

Artemis nodded. She needed to tackle that triptych after exams.

GUYS. DID YOU KNOW YOU CAN WRITE CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE FICS ON AO3

A Bouquet of New Beginnings Chapter 24: "Pink"

Summary:

An argument in the Undercroft between Sebastian & Ominis.

A Bickle Pickle.

Floriography: Make haste, Pure love

Full Chapter: [AO3]//7.4k words

Except Below:

“But, didn’t goblins curse Anne?”

Ominis was the first to respond. Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh as he tousled his hair.

“We only saw goblins at the estate. But Healer Gavin did these –” Sebastian gestured with his hands. “–Diagnostics? Which came up that it wasn’t goblin magic. But it could still have been goblins if they had a wand and found the spell somewhere.”

Artemis hummed slightly. “Goblins have their own magic right? Why take the extra step to use wizard magic?”

Sebastian scoffed. “I don’t know, irony? Why terrorise all of these hamlets? Loyalists don’t need any reason for that.”

Artemis gave a slight nod; it was clear they were near Feldcroft for the connection with the Keepers and Isidora. But the bulletin board in Hogsmeade showed their reach was far beyond the region.

Sebastian sighed before he brightened slightly. “But the good thing is, at least it narrows it down to wizard curses. I was thinking maybe we can find something to give to Healer Gavin. Help with researching the cure.”

“We could research in the l –”

“– Actually,” interrupted Sebastian. “Ominis could just tell us about the Scriptorium.”

The air chilled instantly around Ominis. His brows knitted together as he clenched and unclenched his left hand.

“Scriptorium?” Artemis repeated. Her question fell on deaf ears.

“You rat!” Ominis hissed. “This was supposed to stay between us!”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed. “Ominis, there’s nothing in the library! Anne had another bout tonight and it was so much worse! The Scriptorium could have –”

“– No it won’t,” interrupted Ominis. “I can’t believe we’re still talking about this.”

“Because it could have something to help Anne!”

“Anything to do with the Dark Arts should be avoided. It’s one thing to read, but this? It’s too risky.”

“You missed visiting Anne for this; it would be a waste to not use this. Anything to do with Salazar Slytherin is worth the risk.”

Artemis blinked twice, too stunned at the influx of new information to do anything. Salazar Slytherin had a Scriptorium in this school?

“I can’t agree.”

“Why don’t you want to help?” Sebastian said accusingly. “Artie’s done more than you have –”

“– How dare you,” hissed Ominis. A flash of hurt passed before a steely mask settled. “I’ll not say a word more.”

“Wait, Ominis!” Artemis called out in vain as the blond stormed out of the Undercroft.

The gate crashed down. Artemis sighed as she looked toward Sebastian. The brunet released a frustrated groan as he paced back and forth once more. She, for her part, felt useless as she stood there, her thumb rubbed against her scar. She should’ve stepped in and not stand there like an useless fish.

“Sebastian –”

“– Healer Gavin’s great,” interrupted Sebastian. “I just –”

Sebastian stopped his pacing when he stood in front of her and sighed. Despite it being his birthday, the joys had been replaced by a heaviness in his shoulders.

“You want to help Anne,” finished Artemis.

Sebastian’s eyes softened slightly. “Exactly. You understand, don’t you?”

“I do.”

More than he knew.

Artemis sighed as her eyes went back to the gate; she was going to have to figure out a way to drink another Calming Draught discreetly before going out. Somehow.

“Was the Scriptorium actually supposed to be a secret, Sebastian?”

“Sort of,” said Sebastian with a shrug. “Ominis didn’t specify that we kept it between me and him. But, he showed you the Undercroft, so I thought he wouldn’t mind … wait, that’s it!”

Sebastian exclaimed loudly as his warm chocolate eyes brightened. His hands flew as they grabbed her shoulders.

“You can help me convince him!”

Artemis blinked twice.

“Of…?”

“Going into the Scriptorium!”

Artemis tilted her head slightly. “Sebastian, how is Slytherin’s Scriptorium going to help Anne?”

“Look, the Gaunts are full of secrets, like the Undercroft. And, the Gaunts know better than most that there’s more to Dark magic than people realise. Can you imagine what Slytherin must have stuffed inside a hidden Scriptorium? There might be long buried texts! And –”

“– Sebastian,” cut off Artemis. “Where’s this coming from? The diagnostic?”

Sebastian sighed. “Yes. It showed these… dark tendrils that were wrapped around Anne’s veins.”

The grip around her shoulders tightened.

 “Said that it’s a sign of the curse being something old, and aristocratic Purebloods tend to have more than their fair share of old magic. The Blacks, Lestranges… even the Prewetts.”

“Are the Sallows…?”

“– Pureblood? Yes, but definitely not aristocratic, clearly. Anyways, I want to make sure we don’t miss any possible thing that could help Anne. The issue, is that only Ominis knows how to enter and, as you clearly saw, he won’t tell me.”

“You did tell him he didn’t care about Anne,” pointed out Artemis, “Which you know isn’t true.”

Sebastain sighed as he tousled his hair. “I admit that was uncalled for. I was just… frustrated with everything and – anyways. Would you help me convince Ominis?”

She blinked twice. She could see the point Sebastian was making, though there was no guarantee of anything being inside. If the Scriptorium had any sort of material that could help Leto create a cure for Anne – or something to manage it – that would be worth the risk.

“Only after you apologise and he forgives you. Then I’ll… talk to him about this,” said Artemis.

Even if she didn’t, her gut said Sebastian would find a way. Plus, they still needed to ask him about that shed.

“Deal,” said Sebastian with a relieved smile. He let go of her shoulders. “By the way, that book cover and bookmark – those are the enchanted ones, right?”

“Yes. The book cover turns into an Arithmancy title, and the bookmark lights up. Though, that might disrupt your roommates…aside from Ominis.”

“Fantastic, now I can read forbidden books out in the open. No one would be the wiser.”

“Unless someone comes up behind you and reads over your shoulder.”

“Fair point.”

Sebastian chuckled, but it sounded hollow.

The ashes atop the Sallow table flitted back to her mind. Artemis bit her inner cheek before she pulled her wand and conjured a boutonniere – a gladiolus with a forget-me-not and a geranium surrounded by green. Not a bouquet, but small and compact. She pulled a hairpin from her hair and transfigured it into a silver pin.

“May I?” Artemis asked as she lifted the boutonniere.

Sebastian’s eyes widened. “Oh, um.” He cleared his throat. “Of course.”

Artemis hummed as she carefully slipped her fingertips under his left lapel. The bright and colourful flowers stood out against the Slytherin uniform. She straightened the lapel and the flowers before she looked up; the freckled face of her friend was intently concentrated on her.

“By the way, didn’t know you knew a Curse-Breaker.”

“Kierston?” She asked as she looked back down to make sure the pin didn’t pierce her friend. “He’s a dear family friend. I wasn’t sure if he would be popping by today.”

“Do you think he’d be able to take a look at Anne?”

“He doesn’t know human physiology well enough, but he’s definitely a resource. I’m sure he’d be willing to help,” she answered as she finished pinning the boutonniere. She gave two gentle pats. “There. All done.”

Artemis lifted her head, her forest green eyes meeting his. Something passed through Sebastian’s eyes, though she couldn’t pinpoint what.

“Happy Birthday, Sebastian.”

“Thank you, Artie,” said Sebastian softly. A second passed in utter silence before he cleared his throat. “I’ll just, grab the other gifts. Then we can head out.”

Artemis knocked down a Calming Draught when Sebastian’s back turned as he grabbed his presents.

Ominis didn’t come back; her thumb dug deep into her scarred palm.

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