Never Say Never
Regulus was conflicted. He was sitting in the common room in his usual spot after Hope had left after their talk, more content than she came in. He had been avoiding her the last few days and instead of giving up and getting mad at him—like Regulus thought she would—she stayed stubborn and demanded to know what was wrong. She didn’t care that he had been ignoring her, she just wanted to solve the problem. That surprised him more than he thought it would because of how used to he is of people leaving and giving up on him due to his cold demeanor.
Of course that had never happened with Pandora, Evan, or Barty but he thought he had gotten lucky with them. They were the only people he had ever let get close to him after his bastardly brother left. He had no faith that anyone else would ever stay like they had but even then, there was still that lingering anxiety that one day the three of them would decide he wasn’t worth it like his brother had and abandon him. Maybe they would leave him for his brother like he thought Hope was doing—like she might still do. That’s what everyone does, isn't it? Like it’s the natural order of the world and Regulus is destined to be alone in it.
His talk with Hope eased some of his worries but he knew better than to trust anyone based on simple words. He needed action that backed up their statements and, more often than not, false promises. But Regulus truly wants to believe that Hope is different and she won’t turn out to be like what some of his worst fears imagined she would be.
She’s different from most Slytherins. Usually, they’re closed-off, cruel, and either keep to themselves or are in small groups of trusted inner-circle people. Hope, on the other hand, was more open and inviting. She filled the common room with a light that only those around her could see. But she seems blind to it herself.
On the first day back at Hogwarts, Barty was moody and colder than usual. He has one more year, like Regulus, until his seventh and his father has been increasingly difficult. Barty always had expectations to live up to since his father was top of his year during his time at Hogwarts, graduated with eight N.E.W.Ts, and now he’s Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which is a very high standing and respectable position. Bartemius Crouch Senior expects the best out of his son and the burden weighs heavy on the Crouch heir. Regulus was expecting Barty’s sour mood to carry on at least throughout the first week but when Hope had sat down next to Pandora, her energy sparked some life back into him and every day since, she’s been, unknowingly, keeping him from spiraling. She’s comparable to nature for him—always keeping Barty rooted to the ground so he doesn’t get caught up in the storm.
Regulus also knows that Pandora is attached to Hope. Her last roommates had asked to switch after the first month during first year because of disagreements on room designs. They could never understand her vision or her wanting them to wear butterbeer cork necklaces as a form of protection. They were denied the switch and rumors spread about what happened so every year following that, she’s been alone. She, of course, had her boys and Regulus would never admit it out loud but he loves Pandora like a sister and he knew she craved a female friend that she could relate to better. Hope gave her that and they seem to be getting along better than he could have imagined. To Pandora, Hope seemed to fit swimmingly into the steady stream that connected Pandora’s heart and mind.
Evan also noticed the increase of happiness in his sister and knew it was because of Hope. Regulus and Evan have been sharing knowing, but happy, glances everytime Pandora would engage the new Slytherin in a game of people watching. Pandora has the ability to sense auras and the two would create elaborate stories about different students walking around to entertain the boys. The amount of positive energy the two exude during those times is contagious and Evan would be forever grateful to Hope. To him, she is a summer rain that cooled down the heat and brought something new to counteract the ordinary.
Regulus had been watching the girl curiously. The way she interacted with his friends, after such a short time, was so natural you’d think they’d have been friends for years. It was like she was meantto be there. He didn’t understand it or her and if there is anything noteworthy about Regulus Arcturus Black is that he doesn’t like not knowing things. He doesn’t mind the addition into their little group but he is still hesitant. She’s too good to be true. She seems too happy and open to not be hiding something. Hope’s a Slytherin after all, they all have their secrets. If Hope is going to be trusted around him and his friends then he has to find out hers. He senses it’s something big, especially with her sudden arrival and being Mcgonagall’s god-daughter.
He catches himself wishing it isn't something close to nefarious. His whole life, Regulus has been dealt the faulty hand. No matter how many times the deck was shuffled, the ace was never up his sleeve. His first bad hand was his birth. Growing up, he was always the back-up heir. Someone his parents could brag about to other respected pureblood families at social events about how they had managed to produce two male heirs for the Ancient and Noble House of Black. But then they’d come home and he’d endure unimaginable pain for the tiniest infraction at the hands of the people who are supposed to love him the most. Those punishments had always been mild because Sirius, his older brother whom he loves so much, would always take the fall so Regulus would be spared. Unfortunately, after he had gone, Regulus was left to take the blunt ire of his mother and father’s wands. They had never laid a hand on him because it is seen as improper and abhorrent to be doing anything the muggle way so they let their cruciatus curses do the talking.
The second bad hand dealt was Sirius abandoning him to live with the Potter’s but Regulus never thought it had been a terrible place to start the card game because his brother had promised to be there for him at Hogwarts. If he couldn’t feel his brother’s love at 12 Grimmauld Place, then he’d soak in as much of it as he could during the school years. So he didn’t mind the lack of face cards in his deck and stared numbly at his stack of numbers while hiding the happiness behind his pureblood mask.
The third hand seemed to be the breaking point of the younger Black’s ability to love and trust. When Regulus’ fifth year rolled around, he was elated because he would be seeing his brother for the first time since he ran away from home. He was quickly disheartened when he saw his brother happy and laughing freely with the one and only, James Potter , and going as far as to call him ‘brother’. Regulus was beyond betrayed. Sirius spent a few measly months at the Potters and deemed that was enough to replace Regulus and leave him on the stone floor of their manor, staring hopelessly at the empty space his older brother once stood with his warm presence.
The younger Black would never dare play fate like that again. No amount of pain was worth the gamble. He had been closed off for years and, yes, he was grateful for his friends but that didn’t mean he told them everything. Most secrets are best kept close to the heart. That is what he had thought until he met Hope. She didn’t barge into his life like Evan and Barty had. She knocked. She waited for a response and then carefully stepped into his life and offered her friendship, trust, and support until he was ready to accept it. He isn’t ready…but she makes him want to be.
Hope came into his life like the moon. She rose steadily and shined a comfortable light on his darkness that never blinded him. It soothed him, instead. She lets herself shine but leaves room for him when he wants to come out. She supports him like the moon always does when she leaves enough darkness for her stars to light up. Regulus can appreciate that. He may not trust Hope completely, but the desire to is there and that is enough for now.
— — — — — —
Evan Rosier is about to be a dead man .
Hope grits her teeth and stares menacingly at Evan who is holding the plate of beignets hostage from across the table. “If you do not hand them over right now I am going to demonstrate how thumbs are a privilege and not a human right. Do. Not. Test. Me. Rosier.”
Hope’s morning has not been pleasant to say the least and this is her last straw . She finally resolved her issues with Regulus but it was at one in the fucking morning . She was twisting and turning half the night after that. Pandora woke her up at an ungodly hour for a weekend. The full moon is tonight and she’s on edge because she can’t transform and run wild in the woods like she wants to. She also has to spend all night with James fucking Potter and his insanely large ego and incessant flirting. And to top it off, Evan won’t give her the goddamn beignets .
Evan is looking far too smug after being threatened and Hope can feel her wolf itching to come out. Barty’s amused, unhelpful ass risks his own thumbs. “I didn't peg you for the violent type there, Hope.” He laughs.
Hope turns to him, arms crossed and sneers. “Unless you wanna get pegged, I suggest you stay out of this Crouch.”
“Who says I don't?”
“Never said you didn’t,” Hope leans forward, smiling. “But I don’t think it’s me you want doing it to you.” Her eyes flick over to Evan. Barty flushes and goes silent. Hope’s noticed how Barty acts around Evan from the last week and he’s as subtle with his attraction as an almost desiccated vampire is when staring at their next meal. It’s pathetic but oddly endearing.
“Okay, I don’t know what that was,” Evan cuts in, gesturing to Hope and Barty. “But if I give these to you, what do I get in return?” He smiles like he has the upper hand. Regulus rolls his eyes from next to Barty, at the end of the table. Pandora looks pleasantly entertained at the breakfast drama from across from him.
“The ability to properly use a quill.” Hope snips, losing her patience.
He’s undeterred and moves the plate of beignets a little closer to Hope but still just out of reach. “Come on,” he baits. “What could I get in return for giving you this delicious, fluffy…” Hope almost drools at the sight of her favorite baked good. “...powdery, delicacy? How bad do you want it?”
Hope comes out of her bread-filled fantasy and looks smug. She thinks back to a prank she pulled on her Uncle Kol after he rigged her bedroom door to dump a bucket of ice cold water on her upon opening it. “I know exactly what I could give you.” Her voice becomes suspiciously sweet.
“What’s that?” He asks and Hope smirks. She’s found that Slytherins respond better to humiliation than threats.
“I could leave your beautiful blonde hair alone or,” she drags out. “I could turn it bright red so you can show the Gryffindors just how much you love them.”
Evan has the sense to look horrified. “Wha…you…” He drops the plate on the table with a loud clunk. “You can’t do that.” He turns to Barty. “Can she do that?”
Barty claps him on the shoulder. “Mate, she threatened to rid you of your thumbs, I wouldn’t bet against it.”
Regulus decides to join in. “From the look on her face, I wouldn’t risk it.”
Pandora pipes up too. “I can sense her magic is strong enough to turn it red forever. Wouldn’t that be something?” She turns to Hope. “Could you turn mine blue so we match?”
“She’s not turning my hair red!” Evan exclaims rather loudly, getting out of his seat, flailing his arms, and eyes wide. People from other houses as well as their own even turn to look at him.
“Try me, Evan.”
He takes one look at her hard eyes and the magic sparking around her hair and decides not to risk his life so early in the morning. Evan slumps in defeat and passes the plate which Hope takes very happily as if she wasn’t bloody threatening him a moment ago.
— — — — — —
It’s officially Saturday, the school’s first weekend which also means Hope doesn’t have to wear those stupid robes that are honestly just inconvenient. If this was the Salvatore school and a monster was attacking, she’d trip over the uniform before she could get a punch in. Not like the skirts at that school were any less annoying but at least they were comfortable enough to fight in with the leggings underneath. Hope takes full advantage of the weekend and puts on an outfit she bought at Diagon Alley over the summer; black skinny jeans, a long-sleeve, fitted burgundy top with a v-neck, and the black boots she was wearing when she landed in front of Hogwarts.
It’s right after lunch and Hope and the boys are sitting in the courtyard. Barty and Evan are sitting cross-legged on the grass, engaged in a fascinating discussion about which girl to take with them to Hogsmead next weekend, Regulus is laying on the bench, his head propped up on his right-hand, one leg hanging off the bench, the other bent at the knee, and is reading his Arithmancy textbook, and Hope is leaning against the oak tree next to the bench with her eyes closed. She lays her hand on the dry dirt and patches of bright green grass around the tree and sighs contentedly.
Back home, she would spend as much time with nature as she could. Her Aunt Freya taught her a piece of Mikaelson magic that was lost for a while until it came back when she was born. She remembers that day, about a week after her mom died and her magic was going crazy because it was being supercharged by her emotions.
— —
“Why are we here?” Hope asks, leaning on the center table inside the greenhouse in New Orleans, her arms crossed.
“We,” Aunt Freya starts, gathering a few potted plants in a row on the table. “Are here because you need to learn control.” Some are beautifully grown while others have withered into black roots.
Hope rolls her eyes. “I’ve been learning ‘control’ my whole life. Unknown tribrid power, remember?” She gestures to herself and the silver bracelet on her wrist that focuses her power. “We kinda took every precaution in the book.”
Freya sighs and rests the palm of her hands on the edge of the table, opposite to Hope. “Yes, but that was different. What we taught you when you were little was how to control the Mikaelson magic mixed with your temperamental wolf.” She gives a pointed look to her niece who is about to object to the “temperamental” comment.
“What other magic do I have? We’re first-born Mikaelson’s, that’s where our power lies.”
“We are not just Mikaelsons, Hope. Esther, your grandmother, was a Hagen before she married Mikael. The Hagen family came from a coveted line of purified nature witches.”
“What’s the difference between a purified witch and a regular one?” Hope has no idea where this family history lesson is going. Her mother just died and now her aunt wants her to ‘control herself’ like it's so easy.
“Regular nature witches draw their power from nature. They are born with their own but use nature as a conduit to make them stronger but that’s as far as it goes. But purified nature witches have a deeper connection to nature. We can feel it as if it's alive, speak to it, know what it’s thinking, heal it in ways no one else can, learn from it, and feel its power on a more spiritual level.” Freya is speaking of it like it's an old friend she’s been longing for.
Hope takes on a contemplative look. “If Esther was a Hagen then she had this connection to it. Do we?”
“Had is the operative word.” Hope’s brow furrows so Freya explains. “It’s not a known fact, but nature has its own voice, so to speak. It can feel things and it decides for itself who is worthy enough to wield it. For the last few thousand years, the Hagen family was the only one who had access to it. They were deemed worthy by Mother Nature herself. Until…” Freya sighs deeply, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “Until Esther and Dahlia turned to dark magic for the selfishness of immortality and power. They betrayed nature so it retaliated and completely cut-off the Hagen family from ever accessing it.”
“That’s why Esther manipulated her way into the ancestral magic of New Orleans? The French Quarter witches draw from their ancestors and she needed that power because her original source cut her off?” Hope deducts it perfectly and Freys nods. “But what about Dahlia? When she was after me, mom said she had a thing where she’d plant black dahlias out of nowhere as a warning signal that she was coming. Mom said they followed her like she was their life source.”
“To put it simply, everything has a dark side—a balance of sorts. Magic is and always has been a gray area.”
“No good or evil.” Hope mutters, deep in thought.
“Yes, exactly. Nature is no exception. If you walk into a garden you’ll see rows and rows of brightly colored flowers, filled with life but underneath you’ll find the rotting roots and stems that are closer to ashes than flowers. Esther and Dahlia were rejected by the lighter side of nature filled with life and warmth but Dahlia found a loophole. She began harvesting magic from the dead parts of the earth. Her magic was inherently being fed death. The black dahlias she loved sending out, symbolize betrayal and darkness. That was the only magic she was able to wield.”
“If that connection to nature was revoked from the Hagen’s, what does that have to do with us? You and I are technically the last living witches of that line but if we don’t have access to that magic—?”
“Then why am I giving you a history lesson on it?” Freya finishes for her, smiling knowingly. History was never Hope’s favorite subject, least of all her own. Hope nods, still confused but briefly distracted from her grief. “Because,” Freya starts. “When you were born, I felt it flare up again inside both of us.”
“How…how is that possible?” Hope is beyond confusion. “It basically disowned our family. If nature really does have a ‘voice’—like you say—why would it come back to us? To me?”
“Because, nature has a way of sensing things. The reason the Hagen family was granted the power of the earth was because Felda Hagen, one of our ancestors. She dedicated her entire life to understanding and loving nature. She believed in the entirety of its properties. How it could heal any wound, nurse any illness, speak in any language, and provide anything that is needed. Unfortunately, she contracted a fatal disease. She was dying and in her state she only asked for one thing. To live her final moments in the center of the woods, alone.”
“Kinda cryptic if you ask me.”
“Hope. Focus, you need to know this to understand.” Freya hardens her gaze at her niece. “While she was in the woods, she prayed to nature. She was of a viking family who valued their Norse Gods but Mother Earth was her only deity and it heard Felda’s prayers. It granted Felda its healing powers and restored her but it also gave her a special connection to it that she would pass down to her descendants. Felda loved nature and nature loved her. Her heart. Her mind. Her soul. To nature, every part of her was pure. Esther and Dahlia corrupted that purity and nature has spent the last thousand years mourning the Hagen family and searching, simultaneously, for another soul to open up to again.”
Hope contemplates Freya’s story. She was basically being told that nature deemed her worthy despite what she is. But after years of being told she’s an abomination and a freak of nature, how could she believe that? It goes against everything she’s ever been told so who does she believe—The enemies who’ve wanted her dead since birth, her own family, or magic itself? The latter seemed like the most logical choice but Hope couldn’t bring herself to accept what she’s been told. Her mother had died for god’s sake because of what she was; a hybrid.
“Why would nature choose me? Every witch in New Orleans thinks I’m an abomination! Hell, even the vampires agree and they’re the original freaks!” Hope yelled, barely containing her anger and disbelief.
If nature accepted her as soon as she was born and everyone knew then the witches would have had no reason to attack her or her family. Maybe her mom would still be alive.
“Despite what most wiccan have come to believe, nature does not discriminate. It does not care what you are magically. It only cares who you are in your core. What kind of person you are and you,” Freya walks over to her niece and cups her face with a look of awe and determination. “Hope, are exactly what nature has been looking for.”
— —
Hope refocuses her thoughts and becomes aware of her surroundings once more. She can feel the ground beneath her and attempts to connect with the earth like she used to back home. Letting her magic branch out, it gently nudges the strong aura of the oak tree she is sitting beneath.
Oak trees symbolize strength. They’re part of Germanic legend who associated the tree with their god of thunder, Thor. It is similar to Greek legends who associated the trees with Zues, also the god of thunder. Oaks represent power and resilience but also protection. As part of her lessons with her Aunt Freya, Hope was forced to remember the significance of many aspects of nature.
When Hope brushed her magic against the tree, she felt it push back in excitement. Apparently, the greenery in this universe has never encountered a wiccan with the ability to communicate with it. The witch/wizard population draws from a magical core inside of them so they have no need to branch out to other sources.The oak, which usually displayed a protective power, was almost buzzing with a childlike energy. Hope knew the tree was at least a century old, but for plants, that was considered young so the oak really was a child.
Taking a breath, Hope focused on calming the tree and letting her energy wash over it to let it know that she is trustworthy. It responded in kind by planting a delicate, purple freesia beneath one of her hands. Freesia flowers represent friendship, but most importantly, trust. She took that as a sign that even though she wasn’t in her own world, this one has accepted her.
— —
Evan looks up from his conversation with Barty—who is going off animatedly about some random Hufflepuff guy he thinks will be great company during Hogsmeade weekend—and gazes at Hope, curiously. Since they came to relax in the courtyard ten minutes ago, she’s been doing nothing but leaning against a tree, completely still. He’d have guessed she was asleep if it weren’t for the serene smile on her face. Merlin, it could rival Pandora’s and that was saying something.
Before he could say anything, his sister came strolling towards them with a bucket of meat from the kitchens.
“Anyone want to help me feed the thestrals?” She asks with an easy smile and sways back and forth on her heels.
“Sorry Panda, but I’d rather not spend my day feeding horses I can’t see.” Barty replies.
“Consider yourself lucky.” Regulus remarks dryly.
“Sorry dear sister but those things put the shits up me.” Evan looks back over at Hope. “Why don’t you ask the wise tree spirit over there?” They all turn and look at the tribrid who is unaware of the conversation. Barty takes initiative and throws a pebble at her forehead.
“Hey!” She exclaims while rubbing her head and looks up to glare at the source of her disturbance. “What the hell was that for you pebble pelting pygmy puff!”
Barty snorts and repeats her words deliberately slowly. “Pebble pelting pygmy puff?” He turns to Regulus who has returned to his studies. “Say that three times fast, Reg. I dare you.”
Regulus doesn’t even glance up from his book. “Unlike you, Barty, I have better things to do with my time than entertain childish dares.”
Barty huffs, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Oh, come on, you coward. Where’s your sense of fun?”
Regulus flips a page with practiced disinterest. “Buried somewhere between your nonsense and Evan’s irrational fear of thestrals.”
Evan gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Excuse you, Regulus. I am not irrational. Those creatures are terrifying, and I will not be convinced otherwise.”
Hope rolls her eyes at them and goes to pick up the pebble. She chucks it at Barty and hits him right in the chest. The impact sends him toppling over—she might’ve used a little extra strength than she meant to.
Barty sits up looking dazed. “Merlin’s balls you should be a beater with that arm.” He turns to Evan. “You think we can get her a spot this season?” He says in all seriousness.
Evan shoves him and turns to look at Hope with a curious expression. “What had you so lost in that big head of yours?”
“I wasn’t lost just…listening.” Her eyes look far away like she’s being pulled back inside her head again.
“Listening?” Barty exclaims. “ To what ? The sweet sounds of Evan making terrible dating decisions?”
“Or Barty spewing nonsense about love whenever a witch or wizard gives him any ounce of attention.” Evan smiles sweetly at him.
“Oi! You’re just upset I’m not confessing my love to you. You feelin’ left out Ev?”
“Why would I feel left out? I envy those that have not had the vexation of your affections.”
“Would you two please stop flirting with each other when I am trying to read!” Regulus exclaims, finally sitting up from his spot on the bench looking slightly annoyed.
“I wasn’t flirting!” Evan shouts.
“Why, I’d never!” Barty yells at the same time.
Regulus merely rolls his eyes, deeming them unimportant and goes back to his book. Evan and Barty exchange awkward glances while Pandora and Hope catch each other’s gaze and smirk, apparently thinking the same thing.
Evan saves himself from any embarrassment and gets back on topic. “Alright, now would you care to tell us what you were ‘listening’ to?”
Hope shrugs, “Nature.”
“ Nature ?” Barty parrots. “How the bloody hell do you listen to nature?”
“My, my. Didn’t know we had a philosopher in the group. Got any epiphanies to share?” Evan asks, leaning back on the palms of his hands.
“Ooh yes! I’d love to hear them!” Pandora lights up.
Hope lets out a small sigh. “It was nothing. What were you guys talking about?”
Pandora deflates a bit but answers nonetheless. “I asked if anyone wanted to come with me to feed the thestrals.” She holds out the bucket of meat as proof.
“What are thestrals?”
“They’re mangy, horrifying, deathly looking creatures that have no business being near a school full of children.” Evan describes and Pandora smacks the back of his head. “They are not horrifying . If you ever spent any time understanding them then you’d know just how gentle they are.” She scolds her brother.
Evan glares at his sister. “Well sorry for not wanting to understand creatures who are only visible to me because I’ve seen someone die!”
Hope gets up from her spot, wiping off any dirt on her. “I’ll go with you.”
Barty raises a brow. “Did you not hear the part about only seeing the creatures if you’ve witnessed death?”
“I do have ears that I occasionally use.” She snarks.
“You’ve seen death?” Regulus decides to join the conversation upon hearing Hope’s implication.
“Don’t act so surprised.” Hope grumbles and makes her way over to Pandora while offering to carry the bucket which the blonde politely declines.
“It’s not surprise. It’s curiosity. There’s a difference.” Regulus states. “You seem too…” He trails off, observing her and trying to find the right word.
“Too what?” Hope crosses her arms defensively.
“Happy.” Evan pipes up.
“So because I’m too much of a positive person, it’s weird for me to be able to see thestrals?” She asks with confusion displayed on her features. “What about Pandora then? She’s the epitome of positivity and she can see them.”
“That’s different.” Evan concludes.
“Who’d you see die?” Barty drops—never one for subtlety, that one. Evan hits him on the head the same time Regulus kicks his shin. He yelps while taking turns clutching both areas. “It was just a question!”
“One that I am not inclined to answer.” Hope’s eyes darken considerably and she shakes her head of thoughts her friends could never dream of understanding. She turns to Pandora. “Let’s go?”
The blonde nods vigorously, not even attempting to contain her excitement that her new friend actually agreed to feed thestrals with her. They said quick goodbyes and left the trio to their own devices.
— — — — — —
“That was weird right?” Barty asks, watching the two witches walk away.
“Very.” Evan agrees.
“What do you reckon happened to make her get so defensive?” Barty turns to Regulus.
“I haven’t the slightest idea, but I plan to find out.” He mused looking thoughtfully at the spot the girls once occupied.
“How are you going to do that?” Evan knows how devious Regulus can be when getting information out of people. He doesn’t want him using the same tactics on the girl he’s become fond of as the new addition to their tight-knit group.
“With nothing untoward,” He reassured while rolling his eyes. “Hope is starting to trust me and I her. I’m confident she’ll open up to me if I ask the right questions.”
“Better hope Panda doesn’t scare her off with the thestrals first.” Barty laughs. “But on the bright side, Evan will have someone to confide in about his irrational fear of some dead horses.” He smiles.
Evan goes to tackle his friend and they get into a rumble of sorts. Regulus, unsurprisingly, ignores them. His thoughts are racing with all the possibilities of what Hope might’ve seen. If it was a family member or friend who died naturally then she wouldn’t have gotten defensive about it, sad and closed off maybe but not defensive. Regulus mentally adds that to his list of things to figure out about her and spends the rest of his time outside thinking on how to go about it. His book has been long-forgotten.
— — — — — —
Pandora and Hope walk, arms linked, through the corridors that lead to the Forbidden Forest. The blonde witch spots Lily Evans walking arm in arm with Marlene Mckinnon. She slows down her pace a bit and pulls on Hope’s arm to get her attention.
“Do you think Lily would want to join us? You mentioned before how you wanted the three of us to hang out. Did you mean it or was that to get my brother and Barty off your back?” Her voice is timid and her eyes hold an insecurity you wouldn’t normally see. Pandora Rosier exudes confidence, embraces her otherworldly thoughts and ideas, and wears her—what some would call “freakishness”—creative soul like a badge of honor. But, like everyone else, she still has some underlying desire to fit in. The desire is less prominent in her than most people but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.
Hope frowns at the question. “Of course I meant it. I think you two would get along great.” Hope follows her eyes to Lily walking with a blonde witch with slightly wavy hair, bangs, a messy fringe with layers that work well for her, a black waterline to bring out her sparkling green eyes, and wearing different layers of black clothing that work cohesively for the perfect outfit. Hope was intrigued to say the least. “I can ask her if you’d like. I haven’t had the chance to speak to her since I introduced myself.”
Pandora nods vigorously, her eyes shining. Hope catches Lily’s eyes and smiles at her. The redhead returns the gesture apprehensively. The witch she’s with catches the action and perks up. Hope steers her and Pandora toward the other pair but before she can get a word out, the blonde she has yet to be introduced to, beats her to it.
“You're the hot new Slytherin Lily befriended.” She points out matter-of-factly.
Lily blushed profusely. “I never said she was hot.” She mumbles, glaring up at her friend before turning to the two in front of her. “This is Marlene Mckinnon, one of my best friends.”
“Hope Mikaelson.” The tribrid introduces. “And this,” She gestures to Pandora. “Is Pandora, one of my best friends.”
“Lovely to meet you both.” Pandora’s airy voice carries out to them, a small smile playing on her lips.
“We were just on our way to feed some thestrals. You two wanna join?” Hope offers, making good on her promise to Pandora.
“Thestrals?” She exclaims, incredulous.
Pandora visibly deflates at her tone. There’s one more person who thinks she’s completely barmy. Before she can rescind Hope’s offer, Lily keeps going.
“I’ve read about those. I didn’t know we had some on the grounds!” She’s practically shaking with eagerness. “I’d love to go!” Pandora’s mood instantly inflates again and a wide grin paints her face. “Marls?” The redhead questions her friend.
Said witch shrugs with indifference. “Sure, I’ve got nothing better going on with Dory in the library.”
The four witches fall in step with different pairings. Lily and Pandora walk ahead with the Gryffindor asking as many questions as possible and allowing Pandora to answer as animatedly as possible. Hope stays behind with Marlene and smirks at her.
“So you think I’m hot?” She asks cheekily.
Expecting the girl to be embarrassed, Hope is quickly proven wrong. “Hot, beautiful, attractive, or my personal favorite, bewitching. Whatever you want to call it, my answer is yes.”
Hope laughs at her bluntness. “Why thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.” She gives the blonde an appraising look.
“Ah, when a pretty girl says the same to you, that’s when you know it’s true. But I didn’t really need the confirmation. Lily’s going to lose it if my ego gets any bigger.”
“Well when you look as good as you do, it’d be pretty difficult not to have one.”
Marlene stares at Hope, a smile tugging at her lips. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Mikaelson.”
Hope smiles innocently. “Maybe I am, Mckinnon.”
“You know, for a Slytherin, you don’t seem half bad,” she teases, shooting Hope a sideways glance.
Hope raises a brow, tilting her head in mock offense. “Oh? And what exactly did you expect, McKinnon? Scales and a forked tongue?”
Marlene grins. “Something like that. Maybe a dramatic cape to billow behind you while you brood.”
Hope hums, pretending to consider it. “I do have a dramatic coat, but it’s strictly for special occasions. I could bring it out just for you, if you’d like.”
Marlene chuckles, shaking her head. “What a privilege.”
Up ahead, Pandora and Lily are deep in discussion, their voices lilting with fascination.
“Did you know thestrals can recognize individuals who feed them regularly?” Pandora is saying, her usual dreamy tone alight with enthusiasm.
Lily nods. “That makes sense. I read somewhere that they form strong bonds. Even if most people can’t see them, they know who’s there for them.”
Hope listens with half an ear, her attention flickering back to Marlene, who nudges her playfully.
“So, tell me,” Marlene muses, “what’s a fearsome Slytherin like yourself doing on a thestral-feeding excursion? Don’t you lot usually avoid all things sentimental?”
Hope smirks. “Oh, absolutely. That’s why I’m here. Nothing screams ‘cold and unfeeling’ like taking time out of my weekend to feed misunderstood magical creatures.”
Marlene snickers. “Alright, fair point. But seriously, you don’t seem the type.”
Hope shrugs. “Maybe I like creatures with a bad reputation. I can relate.”
Marlene cocks an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Are you saying you’re misunderstood , Hope Mikaelson?”
Hope stops walking just long enough to turn, meeting Marlene’s gaze fully. The usual playful glint in her blue eyes softens, just a little. “Maybe,” she murmurs, before her smirk returns. “Or maybe I just enjoy the company of a pretty Gryffindor who underestimates me.”
Marlene blinks, momentarily caught off guard, before she huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “Merlin, you’re shameless.”
Hope grins. “You love it.”
Marlene rolls her eyes, but there’s a blush creeping up her neck. “You’re impossible.”
Hope leans in slightly, dropping her voice to a teasing whisper. “And yet, you keep walking with me.”
Marlene huffs, but she doesn’t pull away. “Only because I’m afraid if I leave you alone, you’ll start dramatically brooding under a tree somewhere.”
Hope chuckles. “See? You do get me. And to think we just met.”
Up ahead, Pandora suddenly turns, beaming at them both. “Are you two coming or are you just going to flirt the whole way?”
Marlene splutters. “We are not flirting!”
Hope just smirks. “That’s debatable.”
Lily snorts, shaking her head. “Come on, lovebirds. The thestrals are waiting.”
Marlene groans, but Hope just laughs, nudging her gently as they catch up. “Don’t worry, McKinnon,” she murmurs. “I’ll be gentle with your fragile Gryffindor pride.”
Marlene shoves her lightly, but there’s no real force behind it. “You’re the worst.”
Hope just grins. “And yet, here you are.”
— — — — — —
The group makes their way through the clearing and Hope gasps softly. She had never seen such creatures before. The thestrals have a skeletal, black, horse-like body with leathery wings. Their frame looks somewhat gaunt and bony, as if they’re almost entirely made of bone and thin skin. Their faces are one of the most unsettling features. They have large, deep-set, and haunting eyes that are black and full of intense depth but have a faint glow. The wings are bat-like and wide, with large, leathery membranes. They have strong but thin limbs, similar to a horse’s legs, with sharp hooves at the end.
Despite their menacing appearance, Hope can almost feel their magic playing with her own. They feel safe and loyal, exactly what you’d expect from an actual horse. One of them stalks up to her and she has to crane her neck to see. It does something unexpected and bows its head. Hope reaches a careful hand out and begins stroking it. It may look bony and rough, but it feels soft and there’s an imitation of fur that’s almost ghost-like. She looks over to see Pandora doing the same to—what appears to be—a younger one but it's not bowing its head. She’s petting its back instead, the meat abandoned for the moment at her feet.
“Why are they petting the air?” Marlene points to the pair and looks beyond confused.
“Do you ever pay attention in care of magical creatures?” Lily huffs.
Marlene has the sense to look guilty. “Uh, no?”
Lily rolls her eyes but explains anyway. “Thestrals are creatures that can only be seen by people who have witnessed death and understood its impact. Pandora and Hope aren’t ‘petting the air’. They can actually see where the creatures are.”
The blonde Gryffindor makes an ‘o’ shape with her mouth. Lily walks over to Pandora who guides her hand to the thestral’s mane. Hope notices Marlene making no move to join.
“You gonna stand there all day, Mckinnon?” She asks.
“And gaze at your beauty from a distance? I think I’m fine where I am, thanks.” She smiles over at her.
“Wouldn’t you much rather get a closer look?” Hope quips.
Marlene rolls her eyes and walks over to the Slytherin. “Alright, where is this stupid thing?”
The thestral huffs at her word choice causing Marlene to jump in fear. “Right there.” Hope points out. “And I wouldn’t offend creatures you can’t see or defend yourself from.”
“Whatever.” She grumbles.
Hope sighs affectionately. “Come here.” She gestures to the spot next to her. Marlene takes a cautious step towards the tribrid while looking around warily. Hope takes her hand and begins to guide it up. Marlene tenses. “Relax,” she whispers.
Marlene lets Hope take control. Once her hand is high enough, she can feel the soft structure that would make up a horse’s head. Tentatively, she begins to stroke it. She can feel the creature’s soft breath and head movement at every sigh. Marlene looks over at Hope in awe and lets out a soft laugh which Hope joins in on.
“This is brilliant!” She says.
Hope smiles at the taller witch. “Come on, let's grab some of the food Pandora brought for them.”
They all spend the next few hours feeding and petting the thestrals while getting to know one another. The four of them sit near the clearing, the late afternoon air filled with the occasional rustling of leaves and the soft huffs of the thestrals as they nudge Pandora and Hope for more food.
"Alright, this is still so weird," Marlene says, tossing a piece of raw meat forward, watching as it seemingly disappears mid-air when the thestral snatches it up. "You're sure they're actually eating this and it's not some elaborate prank?"
Hope, who was gently scratching the bony ridge of a thestral’s neck, smirks. “Trust me, McKinnon. Unless Pandora and I have developed synchronized hallucinations, they’re very real.”
“I wish I could see them,” Lily murmurs, watching where Hope’s hand seemed to float in empty air. “They sound beautiful—well, in a morbid, skeletal way.”
“They are,” Pandora says dreamily, stroking the thestral beside her. “Like shadows given form. They get a bad reputation, but they’re actually quite sweet.”
Marlene huffs. “Sweet, she says, about an invisible carnivorous horse.”
Hope chuckles, tossing another bit of meat to a waiting thestral. “You’re just mad you can’t see them.”
Marlene elbows her playfully. “Oh, shove off.”
Lily smiles, but curiosity flickers in her green eyes. “So, how do you see them, anyway? I mean, I know how —” she hesitates, glancing between them, “but… if it’s not too personal, what was it?”
Pandora answers first, her voice softer but steady. “I was with my twin brother, Evan, when our mother passed. Dragon pox. We were just sitting with her, and then… she wasn’t there anymore.”
Lily reaches over and squeezes Pandora’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
Pandora offers her a small, understanding smile. “It was a long time ago. But thank you.”
They all turn to Hope, who has gone unusually quiet, idly running her fingers through a thestral’s mane. She shrugs, eyes fixed ahead. “Same story, different people,” she says vaguely.
Lily frowns. “Hope—”
“I don’t really talk about it,” Hope interrupts, tone light but firm. “Not exactly a fun topic for new friendships, is it?”
Marlene studies her, lips pressing together slightly. But instead of pushing, she nudges Hope’s knee with her own. “Alright, mysterious one. I’ll let you keep your secrets. For now.”
Hope smirks. “How generous of you.”
Lily doesn’t look entirely satisfied, but Pandora smoothly redirects the conversation. “What about you two?” she asks, glancing at Marlene and Lily. “When did your great Gryffindor friendship begin?”
“Oh, first year,” Marlene says easily. “I insulted some snotty Ravenclaw who was making fun of Lily, and she decided we were soulmates.”
Lily rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You hexed him.”
“He deserved it,” Marlene says unapologetically. “Besides, you thanked me.”
“I did,” Lily admits. “And we’ve been stuck with each other ever since.”
Pandora grins. “Sounds like fate.”
“More like persistence,” Marlene says. “Lily’s a bit of a know-it-all, so obviously I had to befriend her to copy her notes.”
Lily scoffs, nudging her. “You never copy my notes.”
Marlene gasps dramatically. “Because you never let me!”
Hope chuckles. “A tragedy, really.”
“Oh, shut up, Mikaelson.”
“Make me, McKinnon.”
Marlene turns, arching a brow. “Careful what you wish for.”
Hope smirks, leaning in slightly. “That a threat or a promise?”
Marlene opens her mouth, then shuts it, cheeks turning pink. Lily groans.
“ Merlin’s sake , will you two just snog already?”
Hope and Marlene exchange looks.
“Nah,” Hope says, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Marlene huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, here you are.” They repeat their words from earlier.
Lily turns to Pandora, exasperated. “Are they always going to be like this?”
Pandora just smiles. “It’s adorable, isn’t it?”
Marlene groans, tossing another piece of meat into the seemingly empty space in front of her. “I swear, I regret everything .”
Hope just chuckles, nudging her again as the thestrals nuzzle in closer, basking in the strange, easy warmth of new friendships.
— — — — — —
As they gather themselves to leave for dinner, the same thestral from the beginning comes up to Hope and bows its head.
“Strange,” Pandora remarks, tilting her head at the interaction.
“What is?” Marlene asks, coming to stand next to her with Lily on the other side of the Slytherin.
“Thestrals don’t bow to people. It’s not in their nature.”
“Then why is one bowing to Hope?” Lily assumes that’s what’s happening.
“They have a way of sensing things about people. The only way one would bow would be if the person has a profound connection with death, if they’re immensely powerful, or as a sign of respect for how much the person has lost.” The Slytherin informs the two Gryffindors.
“How could they possibly know how much a person lost?” The confusion is evident in Lily’s voice as she watches Hope pet the air, a content smile playing on her face.
“Thestrals don’t judge. They don’t fear death, nor do they misunderstand grief. The creatures can sense emotions on a deeper level. So if a person’s pain that comes from their loss is overwhelming and too much for one person to handle, they’ll bow out of respect for the burdens they carry.”
“So which one is Hope?” Marlene muses.
“Hope’s too guarded to tell us.” Pandora points out.
Marlene huffs. “Guess we’ll never know.”
Pandora looks between Hope and Marlene. “Never say never.”