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A Bouquet of New Beginnings Chapter 11: "Amaryllis"

Floriography - Determination

Summary: Snippets of Artemis' second week of school - the good, the bad, and the nightmare.

[AO3]

Below is an excerpt of the chapter, full chapter can be viewed from the AO3 Link above!

“So, I heard that you’re quite the covert little thief.”

Artemis paused her quill as she lifted her head. Sebastian and Ominis had been doing their assigned Charms essay, and she her extra assignments, in relative silence for the past half hour in the tucked away corner of the library until Ominis broke the silence.

“Oh?” Artemis asked as she pointedly looked at Sebastian. He was the only source that could’ve possibly said anything to Ominis.

Sebastian had the audacity to give an innocent smile.

“Oh indeed. Something about a padlock and a cat? A traipse into the Re-”

“-Oi! Not so loud,” cut in Sebastian. Ominis rolled his eyes as his head tilted back toward her.

“Just hadn’t expected you to be so brazen already with the rules,” paused Ominis. “Well done.”

Artemis had opened her mouth to make a counterargument, only to shut it in the unexpected praise. In contrast, Sebastian’s jaw dropped.

“What? So I get scolded when I go, but Artie gets a compliment? I see how it is.”

Ominis snickered at his friend’s expense.

“She doesn’t barge into our room with erumpent stomps at two in the morning, Sebastian. Though I am curious as to what you could possibly need. You’ve been here less than two weeks.”

Artemis was saved from answering the question as a sneering voice came from her left.

“Well, who do we have here? All alone and – oh, Gaunt. Sallow.”

Their table was at a strange angle that provided blind spots – clearly, Alistair had thought she’d been alone. The change in his tone was drastic, as the moment he saw the two boys his demeanour completely changed.

Sebastian glared daggers and Ominis’ expression was a carefully controlled brand of neutral.

“Avery. Care to finish what you were saying?” Sebastian asked dangerously.

“No, no I think I’ll take my leave,” said Alistair diplomatically.

“Do,” said Ominis as he slowly turned. Alistair’s hand balled into a fist, glared at Artemis once before he stomped away.

“Git,” spat out Sebastian before he turned to Artemis. “How’d you have the misfortune of meeting him?”

“Poppy and I stopped him from pulling on Persephone’s whiskers,” answered Artemis.

“Still petty I see. Can’t believe he’s the same year as us,” sighed Ominis.

“He seemed intimidated.”

“He should. I’d gladly fry him crispy,” huffed Sebastian.

“More my last name than me,” corrected Ominis. He looked like he bit a bitter bug. “Descendant of Salazar Slytherin, my father being friends with the headmaster. The Gaunt name has its… uses, despite the unfortunate run of pureblood mania.”

Slytherin has a bunch of pureblood supremist bigots, not to mention families associated with the Dark Arts. The Malfoys, the Blacks, the Lestranges, the Gaunts.

“The headmaster has friends…?” Artemis asked instead, perplexed at the concept.

Sebastian choked on air as he quickly muffled his laughter into his elbow; Ominis’ shoulders shook as he controlled his. Madam Scribner gave the group a warning glance as she walked by on her patrol.

“Artie, did you hear back from your contact?” Sebastian asked after it was clear the librarian had left their vicinity.

“Contact?” Ominis asked, his head giving a slight jerk.

Artemis looked between Ominis and Sebastian; the brunet nodded as Artemis let out a soft breath.

“They said they’d need to review their contract for the finer details first,” said Artemis. She’d hoped Leto would have responded back before telling Sebastian, but alas. “But, tentatively yes.”

“Really?” Sebastian asked, his eyes brightened. In contrast, Ominis’ features darkened.

“Contract?” Ominis repeated back.

“Artie has a Healer contact in the Ministry. Said she’d reach out regarding Anne.”

“A Healer? Wait, you told her about Anne?”

“I was getting her a –” started Sebastian before he stopped and ran his fingers through his hair. “Never mind, yes, I told Artie about Anne.”

“Why?”

“She’s my sister, I can tell whomever I like.”

Ominis hummed, though his expression didn’t ease as he looked at Artemis.

“Rather generous of you,” said Ominis. His jaw was set.

“Ominis,” Sebastian started, surprised.

Ominis tilted his head toward her; Artemis’ heart sank. She’d not felt this since Chalvey. Palpable mistrust, clear suspicion.  

“So? Why are you helping?”

“Because I want to.”

She managed to keep her voice controlled. It was understandable, why he would be like this.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Because she didn’t want history to repeat itself… but nobody else needed to know that.

“You’re lying,” retorted Ominis. “What do you gain from this?”

Her throat tightened. Sebastian’s warm chocolate eyes hardened toward his best friend.

“Ominis, stop it -”

“- Is treating someone the way you wanted to be treated so unbelievable?”

The soft, wobbled words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.  She hadn’t intended to say that, not really.

Her hands moved quickly as both boys were stunned; Ominis’ eyebrows furrowed rather quickly afterward.

“Excuse me,” muttered Artemis as she pulled out her wand, the rest of her items haphazardly in her arms.  She muttered a quick disillusionment.

“Artie, wait!”

“Mr. Sallow! This is the library!”

Madam Scribner’s shrill warning rang loud behind her as she slunk away into the green floo flames.

A Bouquet of New Beginnings: Chapter 21: Field Poppy

Summary: A run-down with Professor Fig about what happened in the witch's tomb. And a little outing with Poppy to rescue a certain Hippogriff.

Floriography: Avoidance of Problems; Good & Evil

Full Chapter: [AO3] //7.0k words

Excerpt Below:

The reverie of Halloween continued into the night as the patrons of The Three Broomsticks were in relative levels of sloshed. In contrast, Artemis slinked under her disillusionment up the stairs to the private room. She’d done her best to clean up the stench of dead that clung onto her clothing, but she thought maybe it was just the permeating smell of candied alcohol and aforementioned drunkenness of the patrons that made her go unnoticed.

“Come in,” called out Professor Fig’s voice as she knocked on the door of the private room. She snuck in and got rid of her disillusionment just as the door clicked shut.

“Godric’s heart! Artemis what on earth happened?!”

How bad did she look, she wondered, for his eyes to widen so much, for him to rush to her like that and tightly grip her shoulders.

Artemis slowly shook her head. “I… I think I need to sit. May I have some tea?”

“Right, of course. I’ll be right back.”

Her mentor guided her to the nearest stool. When he left, she let out a shaky breath as she pulled out the whittled buttercup spoon out of her bag. Her body folded so her forehead touched both the spoon and wand handle in her hands. Her hands now shook almost as violently as they had when she’d killed that Loyalist.

Professor Fig returned quickly with a fresh pot of chai. The familiarity of sitting across from him with a warm cup of chai in her hands finally calmed her. She was safe.

The professor waited patiently for her to start, and once she did, she couldn’t stop. The horror of the tomb, the helm, the fight, and those poor inferi and even that poor Ashwinder. Her eyes didn’t move from her chai the entire time.

Professor Fig sighed. “Artemis… nobody. Nobody. Should see and go through what you did. What was Lodgok thinking?!”

“He tried to go in, sir,” offered Artemis weakly. “He really did. But the second he tried, the tomb clearly burned him or something. I didn’t tell him about the details; he doesn’t need to know.”

Professor Fig looked unconvinced with his furrowed eyebrows.

Artemis sighed. “I agreed to go, sir. We need a spy inside Ranrok’s Loyalists to funnel information. Admittedly, it was a lot more than I expected, but I handled –”

“– it’s not about your ability to handle situations, Artemis. I know you are more than capable. It is the fact that you have been placed in these situations in the first place that is concerning,” interrupted Professor Fig. He fiddled with his wife’s scarf. “Though, I daresay yesterday would not have been a good day for you at the castle had you stayed.”

“It wasn’t, but I couldn’t figure out why. None of my diagnostics made any sense.”

Professor Fig pulled out an ancient, slim book.

“I’m sure Nurse Blainey wouldn’t be able to pull the diagnostic either in this instance. The reason it wouldn’t make sense is because it isn’t a healing cause. It’s because you’re a clairvoyant. At least, from what I could gather from this and a nice chat with Professor Onai – she’s a renowned Seer. I did not tell her of your situation, do not worry.”

Artemis closed her mouth; Professor Fig continued.

“It seems Seers have a… similar problem on certain days of the year. There was a rather lengthy lecture attached to it, but this and combined with this tome I found, it seems clairvoyants that lean toward er, the less warm-blooded, experience troubles when the Veil is thinnest between life and death. It depends on the region, but in our case –”

“– Halloween,” finished Artemis. It made sense why Professor Fig insisted they meet here, and how she felt much better after leaving Hogwarts for the day.

“Precisely. Hogwarts is, ironically, the worst place to be on Halloween, what with all the ghosts. How did you… feel?”

“Like a bone-chilling death on legs. But when I left, and when I took care of the inferi, I felt much better.”

“I see. I haven’t found anything yet, but if there’s anything to mitigate that for next year, I shall let you know. It would be a travesty if you miss the Halloween Feast the next couple of years. Now, I suggest you still avoid the inside of the castle until after midnight, though the grounds might be fine. I could pay Sirona another night’s worth of coin.”

Artemis shook her head. “I’d like to test the grounds theory, professor. I have somewhere we could go.”

“After a nap, I think,” said Professor Fig as he yawned. “Sleep is important.”

A few hours later, when the sky was about as bright as any greyed November sky in the Scottish Highlands could be and she smelled like frankincense instead of death, the pair arrived at the Briar Greenhouse. The familiar click of the key and a few incantations unlocked one of her sanctuaries.

“Welcome to the Briar Greenhouse, Professor,” she said warmly.

Where there used to be rampant weeds and fungi, there were proper flower beds and pots for healing potions and teas. The tree had been transplanted and now in its stead grew an impressive selection of sunflowers, dahlias, and enchanted roses. The ground floor now flourished with the safer plants, while the second had plants with much deadlier consequences. Everything from cordoned off hellebore to field poppies, and even a flaming bush kept separate resided with the drying station. Hanging baskets hung filled with dwarf roses, extra herbs and hanging vines stretched along the railings. Finally, the rotten barrels and boxes were replaced with sturdy ones that could serve as seating if needed, though mostly it functioned to hide the entrance to the Witty Pear.

Artemis watched as Professor Fig passed by it without notice as he circled the ground floor – a success on the Notice-Me-Not. Or perhaps it was because the professor’s eyes were widened in awe at everything.

“Artemis… I read the reports from Professor Garlick of your progress, but this is incredible. What are these?” Professor Fig asked as he pointed toward the little corner with the dying bramble.

“Those are the witch’s briars that were originally here. I kept the three that were still salvageable; the soil is well-maintained and the dead bits were trimmed. So when the Keepers teach me how they revived Feldcroft, I have something to test it on,” explained Artemis.

Though she had no idea when that would be, considering their current agreement. Professor Fig hummed with a smile.

“I see. I presume this is where you spend much of your time on weekends?”

“I – yes. But it’s… yes,” said Artemis, not bothering to come up with an excuse. Truthfully, she split her time between here, the Room-Clinic, and the Witty Pear for her alone time on the weekends.

Professor Fig patted her gently on the shoulder.

“There is nothing wrong with some time alone, Artemis. I am not here to lecture you on that. However, I do have to caution that, when you do get busier with exams and our continued search… to not neglect your friends. I have to say, I was rather impressed by how a few of them inquired of your absence yesterday.”

Artemis averted her and gently touched the briar stems as her cheeks heated. She would have to apologise, especially to Sebastian; he wouldn’t have been fooled by Professor Fig’s ‘ruins’ research.

“They’re good people.”

“They are. Now, how about I deliver you breakfast and lunch here today, and you enjoy a Saturday outside with your friends tonight?”

Getting her hands dirty as she tended to her plants was a balm compared to last night’s events. The warmth of the greenhouse, collecting ingredients for potions and teas, and eating both breakfast and lunch with Professor Fig on the sturdy boxes was a true delight. But with another nudge to ‘perhaps go outside,’ she got the message – alone time was done for today.

But as she walked with no particular destination other than not inside, Lodgok’s parting words flitted back.

She sounds like a loose end.

The more they churned, the more they made sense. From what little understanding she had of goblins, they were thorough – the degree of Gringotts security attested to that. But more than that, why put a curse on someone instead of killing them if they found out something?

Why let Anne live? What was the purpose?

“Oh, hey Artemis.”

Artemis lifted her head as she came face to face with Andrew and Leander.

“Hello.”

“Heard you didn’t go to the feast last night; Sallow threw a fit,” said Leander.

“I was out on independent study,” lied Artemis smoothly. “Sebastian threw a fit?”

“Well, a fit is probably overexaggerated,” said Andrew with a relaxed smile, “he did ask around to see if we knew where you were. Muttered about you being a diricrawl. Ominis seemed to agree.”

“Natty commented on it too… before she was rightfully disgusted with Garreth shovelling candy,” huffed Leander.

Andrew turned to her. “By the way, did the paints help?”

“Oh, they did! Thank you for teaching me,” thanked Artemis genuinely.

If he hadn’t had the paints or the patience to teach her, Anne’s tea tin would’ve been drab.

“Always happy to help a fellow artist.”

Leander quirked up an eyebrow. “You paint?”

Artemis teetered her head. “He paints, I sketch.”

“If you want to paint more, I’m happy to accept another into the fold,” said Andrew.

Artemis offered a hand. “Trade you pencil for paint?”

Andrew laughed as they shook on it. “Deal.”

“Alright you two,” interjected Leander before he pointed his thumb toward the Summoner’s Court. “Artemis, I challenge you to a game. See if your win against Natty wasn’t just luck.”

Artemis beat Leander both rounds as Andrew served as referee.

“How? How are you so good at this? And Cro –” Leander bit his tongue as they set up for a third round.

Artemis lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t think it’s a matter of skill. I just need to concentrate more.”

“What?”

“Mm. I mean, everyone learns Accio in their first year, right?”

“Right.”

“And how to duel?”

Leander nodded slowly. “Right…?”

“So you’ve had four years to get accustomed to it; you do it automatically. I still need to think about each step. Does that make sense?”

“I suppose… so you’re saying I’m not concentrating enough?”

“No, I’m saying that’s what I am doing, because I need to.”

Leander seemed to consider her words, and opened his mouth –

“Artemis!! There you are!!”

Artemis, Leander and Andrew turned. Poppy rushed toward them, her bag bouncing harshly against her leg. She looked slightly dishevelled and wore a similar garb to their Biscuit excursion. The three exchanged a look as Artemis and Leander climbed down from the platform.

“Poppy? What’s wrong?” Artemis asked, and had to consciously stay still as Poppy snatched her wrist.

“Come with me, please.”

There was no room for discussion.

“Right, um, see you two later.”

She faintly heard the two boys bid goodbye. Poppy’s pace right now neared a jog as she pulled Artemis toward the familiar glade.

“Poppy, what’s g–”

“– Highwing’s missing!” 

A Bouquet of New Beginnings: Chapter 27 "Poinsettia"

Summary: Little things before winter break

Floriography: Merriment

Full Chapter: [AO3]//5.2k words

Excerpt below:

“Ready, Richard?”

“I’m always ready but, why by broom?”

Artemis mounted her Moon Trimmer. “Can ghosts go through floo flames?”

Richard lifted a finger with his mouth open as if to retort, then shrugged.

“Fair point. Alright, lead the way.”

“Libro.”

Sensory Balancing Charm in place, she kicked off the top of the Astronomy Tower with Richard in tow. The clouds had cleared to reveal a beautiful, starry winter sky, and her breath puffed white smoke as the wind bit her skin. The borrowed gloves clung to the broom handle as the thick, borrowed cloak billowed. There now lay a thick layer of fresh, white snow over the usual ground canopied in the dark green pine.

“Not that I’m ungrateful but, why are we going to do my funeral at two in the morning?”

Richard seemed to have no issue keeping up – that’s one less worry at least.

“Well. You said you preferred to do it at night when everyone was asleep ‘just like the good old days’, and I’d like to do this before winter holidays. Plus, I thought you could also help me with gathering some first snow.”

“Um. I feel honoured that you think me so alive but slight problem?” Richard passed his hand through her broom. “Not solid. Bit of a problem trying to pick things up.”

Artemis shook her head with a smile. Her borrowed scarf kept the sharpest edges of the winter wind at bay.

“I just wanted your company, Richard.”

“Oh!” Richard beamed. “Well why didn’t you just say so! Allons-y!”

At least it seemed like he picked up some French.  

Me: ah yeah im going to draw malevolent fanart and it'll be epic and pretty and angsty- -draws this instead- I just can't help but think what a headache the plot must be from the King's POV.

I don't think this is really for Tumblr, since it's a TikTok trend. But I put way too much effort into this for it to be ignored on TikTok, so enjoy this.

due to the uprise in height controversy, here's my vague height headcanon chart, this is notably human(ish) John.