Screaming Porridge
Vi woke to a weight pressing against her chest, pinning her in place. Her half-conscious brain registered the sensation sluggishly—until she opened her eyes.
Two hollow sockets stared back.
A strangled yell tore from her throat as instinct took over. Her fist shot up, connecting squarely with the husk’s misshapen face. The thing went flying, slamming into the opposite wall with a loud crack, leaving a slight dent in the plaster before crumpling to the floor with an unnatural thud.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT" she wheezed, scrambling upright, heart hammering against her ribs.
A snicker. Then, a wheeze.
Vi whipped her head toward the source just as Gert, her dormmate, doubled over in silent laughter, clutching an enchanted camera that glowed faintly.
"Got it all on tape," Gert choked out between gasps, wiping tears from her eyes. "That was—oh my god—that was beautiful."
She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "You better delete that."
Gert smirked. "Oh, Vi. Sweet, violent Vi. This masterpiece is going down in history." With that, she bolted out of the dorm, cackling as she shoved the camera into Jayce’s hands before Vi could even think about chasing her.
Vi swung her legs over the bed, ready to stand—then froze. Something brushed against her foot. A slow, crawling sensation. Her breath hitched as she glanced down.
More husks.
They circled her bed in eerie silence, their hollow sockets fixed on her, as if waiting. Watching.
Vi let out a string of curses, yanking her feet up instinctively before kicking one of the figures aside. She grabbed her wand, gritting her teeth, and flicked it sharply. "Finite Incantatem!" A shimmer of magic rippled through the air as the husks twisted and shrank, reverting back into harmless, everyday objects—pillows, quills, even a stray shoe. The tension in her chest eased slightly, but her irritation remained. This was not over.
The prank war had officially begun.
The Great Hall buzzed with morning chatter as the group huddled around the enchanted camera at their table. Laughter erupted again as the clip replayed for what had to be the tenth time—Vi’s panicked punch sending the husk flying, her frantic scramble, the sheer terror on her face.
"Holy shit, Vi," Jayce wheezed, clutching his stomach. "If it were alive, I think you might've actually killed it."
Mel smirked, delicately sipping her tea. "A true display of raw, untamed power. "
Vi, slouched over her plate, stabbed aggressively at her eggs. "I hate all of you."
Ekko grinned. "That’s fair. But you have to admit, this is hilarious."
Vi shot him a glare but said nothing, instead stuffing toast into her mouth as the laughter continued around her.
Mel smirked, delicately sipping her tea. "Vi, do you need me to come remove the charm so they’ll stop haunting you?"
Vi hesitated for the briefest moment before scoffing. "Pfft, please. I handled it."
Mel raised an eyebrow. "You? Reversing a transfiguration that advanced?"
Vi shoved another bite of toast into her mouth. "Nah, I just gave them a light tap until they stopped moving. Then I burned them."
The group exchanged glances, their laughter faltering as they processed her words.
Jayce cleared his throat. "You... burned them?"
Ekko blinked. "Like, actually?"
Vi shrugged, unbothered. "Yeah. Set 'em on fire. Poof. Gone."
Mel placed her cup down slowly. "Vi, those were transfigured objects. You could’ve just waited for the spell to wear off."
Vi smirked. "Nah, they deserved it."
The conversation split into smaller discussions. Jayce and Ekko debated dueling techniques, mimicking spell movements. Mel and Viktor murmured about the latest politics over breakfast, while Powder animatedly recounted some exaggerated tale to Claggor and Mylo, gesturing wildly.
Vi barely paid attention to any of it—her focus had shifted elsewhere.
Caitlyn sat beside her, idly stirring her tea, eyes flicking toward Vi with an amused glint. "So, you went with brute force instead of logic. How very on-brand."
Vi smirked, resting her chin on her hand. "You say that like you're surprised."
Caitlyn hummed, taking a slow sip. "Not surprised. Just thoroughly amused."
Vi leaned in slightly. "Yeah? Glad I can keep entertained, cupcake."
Caitlyn rolled her eyes but didn't hide the way the corner of her lips curled up. "Oh, you certainly do. In all sorts of ways."
Vi raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. "That so? Care to elaborate?"
Caitlyn pretended to consider, taking a sip of tea. "Well, for starters, your ability to make an absolute spectacle of yourself. It’s quite the talent."
Vi chuckled. "Oh, so you like watching me suffer?"
Caitlyn gave a slow, mischievous smile. "I wouldn’t say like. More... appreciate."
Vi snorted. "That’s just fancy talk for enjoying my misery."
Caitlyn took another sip, her gaze twinkling. "Maybe. But in my defense, you do make it highly entertaining."
Vi shook her head with a laugh, nudging Caitlyn’s knee under the table. "Glad to be of service."
Caitlyn arched an eyebrow, setting her tea down. "So, does this mean you're plotting your revenge? Or should we expect more of your, ah, signature panic reflexes?"
Vi gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. "Wow. You wound me, cupcake." Then, her smirk turned sharp. "But now that you mention it... let's just say I have a few ideas."
Jayce was the first to fall.
It started in Transfiguration.
He raised his hand to answer a question—only for his arm to snap into an exaggerated biceps pose.
Professor Thorne frowned. “Mr. Talis, is there a reason you’re—”
His other hand flung into a pec flex. A ripple of laughter spread through the class.
Jayce clenched his jaw, froze , and refused to move. If he stayed still, maybe it would stop.
Thorne watched him for a long moment before nodding. “…Very well.”
And class moved on.
At lunch, Jayce thought he was safe.
He picked up his fork— flex . Grabbed his goblet— curl .
Across from him, Claggor shot him a confused look.
Jayce scowled, determined not to react. He tried cutting his steak—his arm snapped up, sending a piece of meat flying across the table.
It landed squarely in Mylo’s lap. Mylo stared at it. Then at Jayce. “Are you— posing at me right now?”
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, barely holding back a smirk. “A bit dramatic for lunch, don’t you think?”
Viktor, between spoons of soup, hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. This could be a new fitness strategy. Eat and train.”
Mel, elegantly sipping her tea, gave Jayce an amused glance. “If this is your way of showing off, it’s working. I, for one, am very impressed.”
Vi outright cackled. “Oh, he’s showing off, all right. Look at those gains .”
Jayce groaned, dropping his utensils entirely. “I hate all of you.”
Powder smirked. “That’s fair. But you have to admit—it’s comedy gold.”
Jayce shot her a murderous glare— and flexed .
Vi lost it, nearly choking on her drink. Mylo wheezed, pounding the table. Caitlyn hid her smile behind her napkin.
Mel gave an approving nod. “Excellent form.”
Jayce groaned, trying to slump back in his seat. “I swear on my entire bloodline , I will get you for this.”
Vi wiped a tear from her eye, grinning. “Looking forward to it, big guy .”
Viktor’s suffering began subtly.
At first, he thought he was just tired—words on the page seemed to whisper when he wasn’t looking directly at them. But by the time he sat down for his afternoon study session, the books were full-on speaking .
"Viktor, we need to talk."
He blinked. Slowly.
He turned the page.
"Have you ever considered the possibility that your cane is controlling you?"
Viktor sighed. “No.”
Ekko, studying beside him, raised a brow. “Uh. No to what ?”
Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s happening again.”
Ekko leaned in as Viktor flipped through his notes.
"The moon is hollow, Viktor."
"Mel’s tea is poison, Viktor."
Viktor shut the book very hard .
Vi, sitting across the table, tapped her quill against her lips innocently. “Something wrong?”
Viktor exhaled very slowly. “No.”
The book giggled .
Viktor glared at it.
Vi grinned.
Ekko watched the exchange, barely holding back a snort. “Okay, that’s actually impressive. How’d you even do that?”
Vi stretched, looking far too pleased with herself. “Trade secret.”
Viktor shot her a flat look. “Undo it.”
Vi smirked. “Hmm… nah.”
Before Viktor could argue, his book let out a dramatic sigh.
"Viktor, Vi is in your walls."
Ekko lost it. Vi burst into laughter.
Viktor, with the patience of a saint, stood up, closed his book, and walked away.
The book, ever persistent, whispered one last time.
"You can’t escape the truth, Viktor."
Mel was perhaps the most composed person at Hogwarts. Nothing fazed her. Nothing rattled her.
So when Vi switched her tea, she knew she had to play the long game.
The first sip? Perfectly normal.
The second? …Strawberries. A flavor Mel enjoyed.
The third? Pickle juice.
Mel’s hand paused ever so slightly before lowering the cup.
Vi was watching intently .
Mel, unbothered, continued drinking.
By the fourth sip, it was hot sauce .
A slight twitch of her left eye.
The fifth? Something unholy. Something that should not be tea.
Jayce gagged just from the smell . Powder looked personally offended on Mel’s behalf.
Vi barely contained her snicker.
Mel, perfectly poised, set her cup down and turned her gaze on Vi.
"Vi."
Vi grinned. "Yes?"
Mel smiled. It was not friendly. "You will regret this."
Vi’s smirk faltered.
Just a little.
Jayce let out a low whistle. “Oh, you’re done for.”
Powder leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, watching with an eager grin. “Vi, you just signed your own death certificate.”
Vi shrugged, still grinning. “Worth it.”
Mel exhaled slowly, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin like she hadn’t just consumed liquid evil. “Enjoy your victory while it lasts.”
Vi wiggled her brows. “Oh, I will.”
Mel’s gaze sharpened ever so slightly, and Vi—just for a second—wondered if she had made a mistake.
The trio didn’t waste time plotting their revenge.
Vi knew something was coming—Mel’s threats weren’t empty, and Viktor and Jayce were far too smug the next morning—but she didn’t know when. That was the worst part.
She was cautious at breakfast. Checked her seat. Examined her food. Powder even caught her sniffing her pumpkin juice before taking a sip. But nothing happened.
By lunch, she started to relax.
Which, of course, was when it happened.
The moment Vi opened her mouth to take a bite of her sandwich, her voice rang out—far louder than it should have.
“I am, without a doubt, the sexiest person in this entire school.”
Vi’s hands flew to her mouth.
Powder nearly fell off the bench cackling. Caitlyn was biting her lip, eyes glinting with pure amusement.
Vi clenched her fists, inhaling through her nose. “Okay, you bastards. What did you do?”
Mel gracefully took a sip of her (definitely safe) tea. “Oh, Vi. Sweet, reckless Vi. This masterpiece is going down in history.”
Vi growled. “You’re quoting Gert at me?”
Viktor smirked. “Fitting, isn’t it?”
Jayce leaned back, grinning. “We may have… altered your speech just a little.”
“Altered my—”
Vi shot up from her seat, intent on hexing all three of them into oblivion, but the moment she opened her mouth, her voice boomed again, clear as day across the entire Great Hall:
“I would absolutely let Caitlyn step on me.”
Silence.
Vi felt her soul leave her body.
Caitlyn, wide-eyed, choked on her tea. Mylo hit the table wheezing. Claggor howled.
Ekko physically slid off the bench, clutching his stomach. “Oh—oh my god—”
Mel sat back, satisfied. “I’d say that’s quite the success.”
Vi slammed her wand onto the table. “Counter-curse. Now.”
Jayce, grinning ear to ear, shrugged. “Hmm. Nah.”
Vi lunged at him. He barely dodged, cackling as she chased him through the Great Hall, all while her voice, completely out of her control, declared things like:
“I am the definition of perfection.”
“Caitlyn, I love your—wait, NO—”
“Jayce, you absolute himbo, I am going to END YOU.”
It took Caitlyn, Claggor, and two professors to stop the chaos.
And when the enchantment finally wore off hours later, Vi was left plotting vengeance so profound that even Mel looked mildly concerned.
At first, the trio was united in their mission to torment Vi. But alliances were fickle, and soon, the chaos turned inward. Jayce’s robes turned bright pink in the middle of a lecture, Viktor’s voice swapped with a chipmunk’s for an entire afternoon, and Mel sat through an entire class with her quill subtly hexed to write nothing but compliments about Vi. No one knew who struck first, but by the end of the day, it was every person for themselves. The war had gone rogue.
However, the next day, the war officially breached the confines of the quartet.
The morning started with the usual buzz at breakfast. Vi was deep in conversation with Claggor, talking about the latest prank ideas when—
Vi reached for her drink, only to find it gone. She glanced at Powder, who was casually finishing the last sip.
"Powder, that was mine!"
Powder shrugged, unbothered. "You weren’t drinking it."
Vi sighed, rolling her eyes. "I swear, you're like a vacuum for my food."
Powder grinned, setting the empty glass down. "Guess I was thirsty."
Vi flicked her wand, summoning another glass. "Unbelievable," she muttered, turning back to Claggor.
Across the table, Jayce froze, his face draining of color.
“No!” he hissed under his breath, standing up too quickly. “No, no, no!”
Mylo, confused, looked at him. “What’s wrong?”
Jayce’s voice cracked with panic as he pointed at Powder. “She—she drank it! She drank the wrong one!”
Vi froze, her heart skipping a beat. Powder, completely unaware of what had just happened, was now floating. Slowly at first, as though the air beneath her had turned into helium.
"What the hell?!" Vi yelped, eyes wide. Powder’s drink—the one meant for her—had been enchanted to lift whoever drank it.
Powder blinked, glancing down at her feet, realizing she was no longer on the ground. “Wait… what the—?” Her voice trailed off as she rose a little higher.
Vi’s panic surged. “What did you—?” she shouted, rushing over, grabbing at Powder’s arms, but nothing worked. Powder was now a foot above her.
"Jayce!" Vi shrieked, spinning toward him. "What did you do to her?!"
“I—I didn’t mean to!” Jayce stammered, his hands going up as if to shield himself from the impending disaster. “It was supposed to be for you, Vi! I—this wasn’t supposed to happen!”
Powder, still floating, casually looked at him. "Oh. So I’m floating. Cool."
Vi’s breath quickened. "How do I—?!" she muttered, frantically waving her wand.
Powder, fully relaxed, swung her legs back and forth. "Honestly, this isn’t so bad. Just a little bouncy."
"Not helpful!" Vi snapped, climbing onto the table to grab her sister’s legs. "This is not funny, Jayce! What did you—? Powder, come back!"
Jayce, now pacing, was nearly in a full-blown panic. "I didn’t mean for Powder to drink it! I thought it was for you! I swear, I didn’t think she’d—"
Powder, hovering inches below the ceiling, casually tested her new height. "So, like... is this my new thing now? Floating wherever I want?"
Vi’s frustration hit new levels. "I’m going to kill him," she muttered, struggling to get a grip on Powder.
Caitlyn, Claggor, and Mylo were failing miserably at containing their laughter. The sight of Powder floating while Vi freaked out was too much.
Jayce, realizing the urgency, joined Vi on the table, now attempting to grab Powder’s foot. "Powder, come on, this wasn’t part of the plan!"
“Sure it was,” Powder said from above, completely nonchalant. “Totally makes sense to me.”
Vi was losing it. "Somebody help!"
Caitlyn sighed, and flicked her wand with a soft whoosh. Powder floated back down to the ground as if gently sinking into a cushion.
The moment her feet hit the floor, Powder burst into laughter. "I knew this was going to happen to someone one day. Wasn’t sure it’d be me, though."
Vi, still winded from the panic, glared at Jayce. “You—you're dead.”
Jayce, still frazzled but with a hint of relief, held up his hands. “I... I didn’t mean to, okay?! I’m sorry!”
And with that the war took on a whole new level of chaos.
Powder watched from the corner of the table, an impish grin creeping across her face as Jayce, ever unaware, dug into his breakfast—a bowl of steaming porridge. As he picked up his spoon, his porridge began to squirm. Then, without warning, it let out an ear-splitting shriek. The sound echoed across the room, causing several students to look over in confusion.
“WHAT?!” Jayce screamed, nearly jumping out of his chair as the sludge continued to screech. The porridge—no longer simply a breakfast—seemed to be in agony.
Jayce froze, eyes wide as he stared down at the offending bowl. "What the—?"
The scream echoed once more. "Help! Please—!"
He dropped his spoon, backing away from it as if it were a venomous snake. "What the fuck?"
Mylo, sitting nearby, couldn't help but snicker. "You should've known better than to have a peaceful meal, Jayce. Prank war, remember?"
Vi, looking on with an amused but slightly exasperated expression, smirked. "Looks like you’ve got a bit of a screaming situation there."
Powder, unable to hide her amusement, leaned back in her seat. "Guess your breakfast wanted to make its voice heard."
Mel, for the third time that day, sat on a whoopie cushion with a loud, echoing pfffft.
She groaned, rubbing her temples as the group howled with laughter.
“That’s it. This is getting out of hand,” she muttered, flicking her wand to incinerate the offending cushion.
"Honestly, at this point, it's less a prank war and more an all-out magical disaster," Mylo quipped, arms crossed.
Everyone turned to him in perfect sync, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Mylo froze. "Wait. No. I take it back—"
Too late.
The next morning, his robes shrank into a tragic crop top and almost inappropriate shorts. A spoon latched onto his hand and, when pried off, immediately stuck to his forehead. His voice—completely beyond his control—swung wildly between a deep, menacing growl and a squeaky chipmunk shriek.
Jayce, much to his horror, found his shoes moonwalking every time he tried to walk forward, sending him gliding dramatically across the hallways.
Viktor, exasperated beyond belief, discovered that every time he put his cane down, it transformed into something else—once a rubber chicken, another time a bouquet of roses, and at one point, a very confused toad.
Mel, elegant and poised as ever, kept her composure—until she noticed her reflection winking at her and muttering cryptic, unsettling messages like "Your time is coming, Mel. Soon."
Worse yet, every time Caitlyn is within ten feet of Vi, a disembodied voice very loudly announces stuff like, “Caitlyn Kiramman is NOT staring at Vi! Definitely NOT!!”
Claggor, meanwhile, waged a personal battle with his own lunch as his food consistently floated just out of reach whenever he tried to take a bite.
Ekko discovered his shadow had developed a rebellious streak, occasionally breaking into a victory dance behind him or flipping off professors when they weren’t looking.
And Vi, much to her frustration, found herself unable to curse—every expletive replaced with overly posh, exaggerated British phrases, in a horrible British accent, like "Oh, bother!" and "Well, this is simply dreadful!" instead of her usual swearing.
By the end of the month, the Great Prank War had evolved into full-blown magical anarchy, and absolutely no one was safe.
The first slip happens at breakfast.
Caitlyn steps into the Great Hall with all the confidence of a prefect on duty—until her foot touches the polished stone floor. Instantly, her shoes betray her. One second she’s walking, the next she’s sliding, her arms windmilling wildly as she careens forward.
A group of first-years yelp and scatter. Vi, sitting with Powder and Ekko, looks up just in time to see Caitlyn skid past their table, barely catching herself on the edge. Her plate rattles. Her dignity does not survive.
Powder’s grin is wicked. “Well, that was graceful.”
Caitlyn glares at her before straightening her robes and moving to her seat as if nothing happened. “It was just a weird step.”
But by the time she slides down the stairs to the Entrance Hall, nearly colliding with a suit of armor, it’s clear: something is very, very wrong.
The curse—because this has to be a curse —affects every polished surface she touches. Marble, wood, even waxed tile. If it’s been cleaned in the last month, it’s her mortal enemy.
Throughout the day, the halls of Hogwarts turn into her own personal ice rink.
She glides down corridors with increasing speed, flailing for balance as students press against the walls to avoid her. She tries to walk slower. She tries sticking to carpets. Nothing helps and everyone has noticed.
By lunch, whispers are following her.
“Did you see Kiramman wipe out in the library?”
“She nearly crashed into Professor Silco.”
“Ten sickles says she falls before dinner.”
It gets worse. Someone— likely Powder —enchants a floating finish line at the end of the Ravenclaw corridor. A group of Gryffindors start taking bets. And then, the true humiliation:
Every time she enters a room, a magically amplified voice bellows, “AND HERE COMES CAITLYN KIRAMMAN, GRACEFUL AS EVER!”
Caitlyn wants to crawl into a hole and never emerge.
But the worst moment— the absolute worst moment —comes in the evening.
She’s just left a study session, determined to make it back to the dormitory without incident. She rounds the corner, focused, careful—
And the floor turns against her.
Her feet slip out from under her.
She skids, arms flailing, and in her horror, she realizes exactly who is standing in the corridor ahead.
Headmaster Cassandra Kiramman.
Her mother.
Expression unreadable. Eyes locked onto Caitlyn as she soars past like an injured albatross, sheer momentum carrying her halfway down the hall before she crashes into a bench.
A perfect silence falls.
Caitlyn, sprawled on the ground, pushes herself up with whatever dignity she has left. “…Mother.”
Cassandra, ever composed, blinks once. Then, in the most painfully neutral tone:
“Caitlyn.”
Nothing more, just her name, spoken with the weight of judgment only a mother can wield.
Caitlyn closes her eyes. She is never living this down.
Vi is openly wheezing in the distance. Powder is gone—probably developing the photos.
The next morning, the curse lifts. She walks normally. But when she steps into the Great Hall for breakfast, the moment her shoe touches the floor, an entire table of students erupts into cheers.
Caitlyn groans.
Powder leans in, grinning. “Legend.”
Vi and Caitlyn were making their rounds through the castle, their prefect patrol almost over for the night. It had been a quiet shift, just the occasional group of students trying to sneak snacks from the kitchens or a few lost first-years needing directions.
They turned down a dimly lit corridor, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls. Vi had just started complaining about how unnecessary curfew rules were when she felt an unexpected tug at her waist.
Before she could react, her belt tightened—then yanked itself free entirely.
In one horrifying instant, her pants dropped straight to her ankles.
There was a beat of stunned silence.
Vi froze.
Caitlyn blinked.
Vi, standing there in nothing but her boxers, flung her arms out in betrayal. “Are you— are you serious right now?!” She hastily bent down to yank her pants back up, but the enchanted belt had other plans.
It whipped out of reach, writhing like a taunting little snake before lunging at her.
Vi barely had time to register what was happening before the belt lashed around her wrist like a striking viper. "What the hell—?!" She tried to shake it off, but the damn thing was alive, twisting and yanking her arm behind her back.
Caitlyn, who had been watching the scene unfold in stunned silence, took a sharp step forward. “Vi—”
“I got it,” Vi gritted out.
She absolutely did not have it.
The belt tightened around her wrist, then wrapped around her other arm, binding them together behind her back. With her balance already thrown off from standing in her boxers, Vi staggered.
That was all the belt needed.
The enchanted menace yanked again—hard.
Vi went down.
Flat on her stomach.
With her pants still around her ankles.
There was a long, stunned pause.
Caitlyn made a strangled noise—somewhere between a gasp and a choke. She snapped her head to the side so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash, cheeks turning a furious shade of red.
Vi, eyes blazing, thrashed against the belt. “I am going to kill Powder,” she snarled. “I swear to Merlin—”
The belt, apparently not finished, wound its way around her torso, pinning her on her stomach with a victorious little tug, when she tried to roll over.
Caitlyn, who had been very deliberately not looking, risked a glance and immediately lost it.
She doubled over, clutching her stomach as she howled .
Vi glared up at her, fuming . “Glad you’re having fun.”
Caitlyn pressed a hand over her mouth, trying to suppress her laughter, but it was hopeless. Her shoulders shook , her face still pink. “Y-you look—” she wheezed between giggles, swiping at her eyes. “You look like you’re being arrested by your own trousers.”
Vi growled, struggling against the belt’s grip. “You gonna help or just stand there being useless?”
Caitlyn took a deep breath, sobering just enough to draw her wand. She hesitated for a split second before pointing it at Vi—though she was definitely still avoiding looking anywhere below her shoulders.
“Hold still,” she said, her voice just a bit higher than usual.
“Oh, sure , let me just ask my demonic belt to cooperate,” Vi snapped. “That’s definitely an option I—”
With a sharp flick of Caitlyn’s wand, the belt loosened and dropped harmlessly to the floor.
Vi rolled over and laid there for a second, breathing hard.
Caitlyn, still pink around the ears, held out a hand without quite looking at her. “Need help up?”
Vi swatted it away, standing up and yanking her pants back up with all the dignity she had left, holding them in place. “Don’t say a word about this to anyone.”
click
Vi froze.
Caitlyn barely had time to react before—
BOOM.
A pink, glittery explosion engulfed her, swallowing her whole.
Vi staggered backward, hacking up a lung. "What the hell—"
And then—
The smoke cleared.
And Caitlyn was standing there.
Or at least—
Vi thought it was Caitlyn.
Because standing in front of her was a walking crime against dignity itself.
A sparkly, bright pink, frilly tutu-clad crime.
Vi gaped.
Caitlyn—stiff as a corpse—blinked, her expression completely unreadable.
Vi snorted.
Caitlyn closed her eyes, inhaled slowly, exhaled shakily.
Vi, still recovering from her own trauma, barely had the strength to laugh—until Caitlyn took a single step forward.
jingle
Vi froze.
Caitlyn’s eye twitched.
Vi tilted her head, ears straining.
Caitlyn took another step.
jinglejingle
Vi wheeze-laughed.
“Oh. Oh, Cait, you—” She had to bend over, hand braced on her knee, her entire body quaking from the effort of keeping upright. “You have bells—”
Caitlyn’s hands curled into fists. “This is fine.”
“No, no, wait—” Vi gasped between bouts of laughter. “Turn around. Please.”
Caitlyn refused to move.
Vi grinned like an absolute menace. “I need to check if you have a tail.”
Caitlyn yanked out her wand to vanish the outfit—
The belt, apparently not satisfied with its earlier chaos, sprang back to life—this time launching itself at Caitlyn.
Before she could react, it coiled around her waist and yanked—hard.
With a startled yelp, Caitlyn was thrown off balance. She staggered—then tripped—then lurched forward—
—straight into Vi, who had, on instinct, let go of her trousers to try and catch Caitlyn.
There was a yelp, a tangle of limbs, and then—
A CRASH as they both went toppling to the floor, Vi’s weight fully pinning Caitlyn beneath her.
Silence.
Vi, dazed, blinked down.
At Caitlyn.
Who was now lying flat on her back.
With a half dressed Vi straddling her.
Caitlyn’s entire body went rigid.
Vi’s soul left her body.
She opened her mouth.
Then—
jingle
Vi died.
Caitlyn let out the deepest sigh of her entire existence. “Vi.”
Vi tried—genuinely tried—to suppress her laughter. “Cait.”
“Get. Off.”
Vi absolutely did not move.
Because Caitlyn had never been this red before.
And then—then—as if the situation wasn’t already bad enough—
The echoing sound of a camera shutter clicking reached their ears.
Vi jerked up just in time to see a flash of movement from around the corner.
Someone. Had been watching.
Caitlyn groaned into the floor. “I hate this school.”
At dinner the next evening, Headmaster Cassandra Kiramman stood, tapping her goblet to call for silence.
“It has come to my attention,” she began, her gaze sweeping the Great Hall, “that a series of disruptive pranks have taken place over the past few weeks.”
A wave of murmurs rippled through the students. Several eyes darted toward Vi and her group.
“I understand that a little mischief is inevitable in a school of magic,” Cassandra continued, voice even. “However, certain pranks have proven to be more disruptive than others. As such, I must remind you all to keep your antics harmless and respectful.”
Vi exchanged a look with Powder, both barely suppressing grins.
Then—
“And,” Cassandra added, her tone taking on a sharper edge, “I must especially discourage pranks that result in students ending up in… compromising situations with significantly less clothing.”
Silence.
Then—
A rustle of amusement spread through the Hall. A few students snorted. Others turned in their seats.
Vi frowned—then noticed the looks.
Caitlyn, beside her, went rigid.
Slowly— horrifically —realization dawned.
Vi choked.
Caitlyn, gripping her fork, lowered her gaze to the table like she could will herself out of existence .
Her mother’s voice cut through the laughter like a blade.
"And while I’m sure some of you found it hilarious ," Cassandra added, her eyes lingering in a way that left zero room for doubt, "I expect better from our prefects ."
Caitlyn made the mistake of looking up.
Their eyes met.
Cassandra, perfectly composed, merely raised an eyebrow— so subtly , yet so devastatingly —that Caitlyn could physically feel her soul leave her body .
The laughter exploded .
Vi collapsed against the table, shaking with silent wheeze-laughs.
Caitlyn slowly turned to ash.
"That is all," Cassandra finished primly, taking her seat.
The moment she did, a very familiar click sounded from somewhere behind them.
Vi and Caitlyn whipped around .
Powder was already vanishing into the crowd, camera in hand.
Vi swore. "That little—"
Caitlyn groaned into the table. "I’m transferring schools."