Charms Club
Johnny had been right about all of it, damn him. Hazel was sitting on the bench in the Gryffindor section of the stands, wrapped tightly in her woolen cloak against the cold wind. In front of her, the trio of Dora and Liam Lupin and their cousin Ramses were behaving precisely as Johnny had predicted. The two boys were bouncing against the wooden railing in a way that had Hazel’s nerves on edge, banging into each other and the railing while Dora was too busy screaming at the players out on the pitch to pay them any mind.
Did he always have to be good at everything?
Dora really had succumbed to bloodlust, screaming at the top of her lungs and now making violent threats at the referee, and didn’t seem at all aware of her surroundings. Liam and Ramses jumped against the railing right beside her hard enough to make it shudder, and she only elbowed Liam in the ribs to make him back away without missing a beat in her tirade about the referee’s eyesight.
Hazel reached forward and grabbed the back of each boy’s jumper, yanking them backward. “You’re going to fall over,” she informed them. “Back up or sit down.”
Ramses and Liam were both fairly obedient, if boisterous, so they both backed up a bit and Ramses sat down beside Hazel for a moment.
“We weren’t going to fall,” he assured her.
Hazel slid a sidelong glance at him but smiled in spite of herself. “If you say so.”
“It’s a good game, isn’t it?” Ramses said happily. “Johnny is the best.”
He certainly got the most cheers, that was for sure. Hazel wasn’t entirely clear on the rules of play, but anytime Johnny flew past the stands or did something dangerous-looking, the crowd erupted into screams of joy (and Dora rolled her eyes and made loud remarks about what an idiot he was). Sometimes he waved as he flew past, and all four houses went mad for him, to Hazel’s annoyance. Whenever she’d caught a glimpse of his face, Johnny looked more smug than ever.
Dora had been right, he really was at his most twattish when everyone was cheering for him. He was probably going to be insufferable after Gryffindor won, which based on the current score, Hazel assumed was inevitable.
She was all alone with her irritation, though, because Dora had barely sat down for a moment, the boys had likewise been on their feet cheering the entire match, and even though Tink was present in the stands, she was at the back of the Gryffindor stand, in a corner wrapped tightly around Lucas. Neither of them were aware of Hazel’s presence, the present score, or anything but each other, from the looks of things. Hazel glanced over her shoulder at them.
Yeah, still snogging. She heaved a long-suffering sigh.
“You’re not bored, are you Hazel?” Ramses asked in concern.
Hazel smiled at him. Ramses was really very sweet, though both he and Liam seemed rather silly at times. But then, they were still children, after all. “I’m all right. No need to worry about me.”
Reassured that she didn’t need to be entertained, Ramses bounced back up next to his cousin, and Dora sat down in the spot he’d just vacated. The game must have entered some sort of a lull in play and had broken its hold over Dora’s attention.
“Did you see what Trent just did? Oh, if someone’s going to get fouled for blagging, at least it stopped the other team from scoring. We’re already a hundred and twenty up and it’s still the first half.” Dora’s cheeks were pink with exhilaration, and she flipped her long braid over her shoulder. “Having fun?”
“Not at all,” said Hazel. There didn’t seem a need to sugar-coat it for Dora, not that Hazel was much in the habit of sugar-coating any of her thoughts. “I don’t really care for Quidditch. I’m surprised you don’t play, when you love it this much.”
“Oh, I do. I’m a very good Chaser,” Dora assured her with a level of self-confidence reminiscent of her brother.
“Then why don’t you play for Gryffindor?” Hazel had already heard the answer to this from Johnny, but she was curious to see Dora’s response.
Dora rolled her eyes with theatrical disgust. “Play on Johnny’s team? Absolutely bloody not. When he leaves school, I’ll join the team.”
Hazel chuckled. That sounded fairly in character for Dora. It likely wouldn’t take her long to become the next Quidditch Captain, either. She’d probably rule the school once Johnny was gone.
“You know the Keeper is new this year,” Dora told her then. “Johnny picked him to replace Remus. And then he bloody well renamed him. He’s gone by Herbert the entire time he’s been at Hogwarts, and as soon as he joined the team, Johnny started calling him Bertie and now everyone is calling him Bertie. Including Herbert!” she added, scoffing.
“Johnny renamed the Keeper?” Hazel asked in astonishment. Now she thought about it, that sounded entirely like something he would do. And of course everyone would go along with it, including Johnny’s victim. Honestly, he really was a burgeoning cult leader.
“He said it was a stupid name and Bertie was better. And of course Herbert agrees. He’d probably agree if Johnny renamed him Buttercup.”
Hazel privately agreed that Bertie was preferable to Herbert, but she would never give Johnny the satisfaction of admitting it aloud. “I’ll have to ask him about that.”
“I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you all about it,” Dora said dryly. “Johnny thinks everything he does is bloody brilliant.”
That reminded Hazel of something she’d wondered about in the past. Dora, she knew, was happy to tell her anything to Johnny’s detriment. After spending the last half of the match around Liam, Hazel was fairly certain he was completely blind to his older brother’s faults. “Does Johnny rehearse his stories? Practice them, you know?”
Dora huffed. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? No, he’s just good at telling stories and being entertaining. And if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it.”
Hazel smiled. “I won’t tell him.”
“You know,” Dora went on cheerfully, “I’m glad you came to the match. It’s fun to have someone to rag on Johnny with me. I always thought you were a little antisocial. You never go to anything but Charms Club.”
Hazel shrugged. “I like being by myself. Or with Tink. But she’s a lot more sociable than I am.”
There were times, in fact, that she’d wondered if she would talk to anyone at all if not for Tink. It was because of Tink that she’d put her name in for president of the Charms Club, in fact. Hazel’s natural inclination was to do her own thing, and she hadn’t thought she would want to be in charge of anything or anyone. It turned out, however, that Tink’s suggestion had been a good one, and she liked running the club after all. Things got done her way, and that was so satisfying.
“Tink was at the last Gryffindor party,” Dora said, then glanced over her shoulder where Tink and Lucas were still snogging without any sign of stopping any time soon. “She’s certainly more sociable than you are. Come on, let’s go get hot cocoa before the second half starts. Oi,” she called to her younger brother and her cousin. “You idiots sit down and don’t get back up until I come back, all right?”
Hazel followed her down to the concession stand, watching as Dora waved to people as they passed. She was decidedly among the most popular girls in school, Hazel thought dispassionately as Dora made her way through the small crowd, pushing to the front of the line without meeting any resistance. Hazel stayed on her tail, though she’d normally never cut a line like this. It occurred to her that hanging out with Johnny’s sister probably wasn’t going to quell the rumor that she was dating him. She was starting to really get a feel for Dora’s personality, though, and it was giving her an almost eerie sense of déjà vu.
Dora and Johnny were a lot more alike than either of them wanted to admit.
Dora seemed a little more self-aware than Johnny, though she was just as charismatic in her own way and would probably get even worse as she got a bit older. She wasn’t even quite fourteen, after all. Johnny had only got worse the older he got, too. It was very interesting though. Was Dora less obnoxious about her popularity and myriad of talents because of some innate difference between herself and her brother, or was this a matter of Dora being a girl, and girls were socialized differently? Hazel rather wished she could haul both of them in front of an actual psychological Healer and just demand, ‘Why are they like this?’
It had to be a Lupin thing. Whatever it was, not all of them had it, because Remus had always been on the quiet side, and Liam was more like Remus. Both of them lacked the aura of attractive charisma that Johnny and Dora had. Liam was a follower, not a leader. He was a faithful minion of his brother Johnny. Their cousin Ramses was too. Maybe they’d grow out of that, though, because Liam and Ramses were only eleven.
She followed Dora back to the stands with hot cocoas in hand, thinking about the similarities between Johnny and his little sister, and found Ramses and Liam sitting on the bench, shoving each other and laughing uproariously.
“Knock it off,” Dora ordered them. “And get out of my seat.”
The boys dashed back to the railing and Dora crossed her legs as she sat down, settling into her seat in what looked like a deliberately attractive yet casual pose. Hazel smirked to herself. Johnny posed too, but he was a lot more natural at it. Dora was certainly good at giving commands, just like her brother. Johnny wanted to be Head Boy next year, Hazel remembered. Maybe Dora had similar aspirations.
“Ever thought you wanted to become a prefect?” Hazel asked, sipping her cocoa.
“Why would I want to be a prefect?” Dora asked, a derisive look crossing her pretty face. “Whole lot of work, isn’t it?”
Hazel snorted. Dora probably had a firmer grasp on what being a prefect and Head Girl would mean than Johnny did about becoming Head Boy. He saw it as glory, not work. Dora had more accurately assessed that it wasn’t just a crown to rule the school.
She was well on her way to doing that without a prefect badge, anyway. Johnny had never needed one either.
*
Johnny waited for Hazel outside the Ancient Runes classroom the Monday after the Quidditch match. He had asked her how she’d liked the match over the weekend while sitting at dinner with her, but her response had been a little lackluster and sure enough, his little sister had informed him with relish that Hazel had been bored watching him play. He didn’t believe her, but he wanted to hear it directly from Hazel.
It hardly seemed likely she would hold back her opinion to protect his tender ego. Hazel didn’t do that sort of thing, and his ego could withstand bigger hits than a friend disliking sports. Even if said friend was a very pretty girl.
Hazel emerged from the classroom with Tink at her side, and Tink grinned broadly at the sight of Johnny waiting.
“Oh hello, my friend,” she drawled cheerfully.
“Shut it, you,” said Hazel.
Tink chuckled merrily at her. “I’m off to Defense. Johnny, are you coming along?”
“I’ll be there soon,” he said easily. “Professor Bartlebaugh never minds if I’m late.”
“Of course she doesn’t.” Hazel did not look as amused by this fact as Tink clearly was. “She lets you get away with absolute murder. It’s shameful.”
“Being tardy is twattish,” Tink added helpfully.
“Got it,” said Johnny, tapping his temple, and Tink waved to them as she set off down the corridor. “Where are you headed next, Hazel?”
He didn’t really need to ask, because he had her schedule memorized now, but it was probably twattery to admit that. Next up after Ancient Runes, Hazel liked to go to the library to study and do homework and haunt the informal lending library where students swapped novels that would never be allowed in the school’s official library catalog. Hazel was a big reader, and from what he’d been able to discover so far, she liked horror and crime novels. Not one for the softer side, was Hazel.
“To start on homework,” she told him, as expected.
“I’ll walk you to the library,” he offered, and was rewarded with the usual mix of suspicion and surprise with which she responded to his offers to escort her somewhere.
“I don’t need you to,” she said warily. “You really ought to go to class on time.”
Johnny walked beside her toward the library. Hazel took the most direct path, down a shortcut behind a tapestry and through the entrance hall before going upstairs. He’d seen her do this before, and reckoned he’d split off from her in the entrance hall, since he could get to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom relatively quickly from there. People passed them and smiled and waved at Johnny, and Hazel huffed a bit to herself whenever they did. Johnny didn’t mind; he knew all of them and a few weeks ago would have said they were all friends. He was wondering now if he should reclassify them as acquaintances.
Hazel, though, was his friend, something he was very pleased with.
“Dora said you were bored at the match,” he announced with a confident smile as they walked through the shortcut corridor. “You weren’t really, were you? We had some really excellent fouls, and we won by over two hundred points. I caught the Snitch right next to the referee. How could you be bored?”
“Because I don’t actually like Quidditch,” she admitted.
Johnny put a hand to his heart and staggered a bit as if he’d been mortally wounded. “Oh, Hazel. How could you.”
“How are fouls excellent, anyway?” Hazel asked. Her dark brows were drawn together now. “You’re not supposed to commit fouls. Right?”
“That is why they’re called fouls,” Johnny allowed, feeling rather amused. She hadn’t sounded at all certain about that. “There’s a saying about breaking a few eggs to make an omelette that applies here. We won, didn’t we?”
Hazel pressed her lips together disapprovingly. “Anything to win, is that it?”
She really liked to push his buttons about that one. But Johnny had four sisters, so his buttons weren’t easy to push after years of his sisters’ best efforts. Normally, anyway. He didn’t like when Hazel looked at him like that. “No. I wouldn’t cheat. I wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose. It’s just a game. But I do want to win the House Cup. It’s important to a lot of us.”
Her expression had cleared as soon as he’d said he didn’t condone cheating to win. She was a stickler for the rules. Given that she was a Ravenclaw, he thought it made sense. They all hated the idea of someone using a shortcut or cheating to the top spot at something, mostly academics, because they all wanted to know in their heart of hearts that they were the smartest person in the room. He wasn’t surprised to find Hazel felt the same way about cheating one’s way to a House Cup victory as she did about cheating one’s way to the top of the class.
“Good. I’m glad to hear you believe in some of the rules of fair play, anyway. Usually getting your own way takes precedence, from what I’ve seen. That reminds me, did you really rename the Keeper?” Hazel asked as they reached the entrance hall.
From the look on her face that had been a minor act of twattery. He stopped walking, drawing her aside out of the path students were walking so no one bumped into her. “Well, yes. Look, I just gave him a nickname. He likes it, I promise.”
She snorted. “Only because it came from you. Do you really think no one ever thought of calling the poor boy Bertie before you?”
“I mean, apparently not, because then why was he still going by Herbert?”
Hazel pulled a face and made a gesture that indicated he wasn’t connecting the dots there.
Johnny thought this over a few moments and then asked cautiously, “Maybe they did but he didn’t like it then?”
“Maybe he preferred being called Herbert. Did you actually ask him or just bestow the new name upon him like a god anointing a new prophet?”
Johnny grinned at her sarcasm. “Rather like that, yes. I swear, he said he doesn’t mind, it’s a good nickname. You can ask him.”
Hazel sighed. “Of course he says that, it’s you. Have your sister ask him and see what he says then. Actually, scratch that. She’s almost as bad as you are, he’d probably not admit it to her either. Never mind, let him be Bertie for now if he wants to. But I’ll bet you a Galleon when you leave school, he goes back to being called Herbert.”
“First of all, nobody in their right mind wants to be called Herbert. And secondly…” Johnny eyed her sidelong. “What d’you mean, Dora is almost as bad as me?”
“Have you really never noticed how alike you two are?”
“Dora?” he asked in astonishment. It had never occurred to him that Dora shared much in common with him. Sometimes he questioned whether his sister actually liked him or not. Obviously she loved him, because he was her big brother, but she would gleefully step over his prostrate body to get to a new lip gloss. “Really?”
“Don’t tell her I said that,” Hazel added. “Anyway, I’d better go, I’ve homework to get done, and I have to finish my notes for tonight’s Charms Club meeting. Lots to do.”
She hurried away, and Johnny called after her, “I’ll see you there!”
Hazel stopped in her tracks and turned back to face him. The look on her face was somewhere between wariness and disbelief.
“What do you mean, you’ll see me there? Like walking me back to Ravenclaw Tower after the club?”
Johnny smiled at that, taking two long paces to close the distance between them again. They were standing in the absolute center of the entrance hall now, a spot Johnny had discovered had perfect acoustics for both yodeling and opera, but he kept his voice low because Hazel didn’t like public scenes. Shame about that, this felt like an excellent moment for an audience. He couldn’t wait to see her face when he told her what he meant. “No, I mean I’m coming to the club meeting this evening.”
Hazel looked stunned. “You want to come to Charms Club? You’ve never been to Charms Club before.”
“Friends support each other’s interests,” he reminded her as he stepped a little closer, and Hazel’s expression turned to absolute astonishment. Lips parted, eyes wide, she stared up at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Remember, you told me that.”
“I did,” she said in wonder.
She was still staring up at him. There wasn’t enough sunlight to see the green at the edges of her irises, so they looked like a very dark whiskey. Brown, but not chocolate or coffee. He was close enough to her that if he bent down, he could kiss her. Close enough he could put his arms around her and hold her tight. For half a heartbeat, looking down into her eyes, he almost did.
But she was his friend. So he didn’t.
“Don’t you have class?” Hazel asked in a whisper.
“Oh, yeah. Defense.” Johnny backed up a step. “See you at Charms Club.”
Luckily for Johnny, Professor Bartlebaugh’s attention was on the chalkboard when he strolled in, and she didn’t notice or didn’t mind that he was late. Professor Bartlebaugh was notoriously late herself, so she’d probably beaten him only by moments.
Johnny took the empty seat next to Tink and leaned over to her.
“Did you enjoy the match?” he asked in a whisper.
“Didn’t catch a bit of it,” Tink whispered back with a smile. “I was busy with Lucas and completely lost track of the match.”
Johnny chuckled. “Were you snogging him the entire time?”
Tink let out a merry little giggle, clearly not ashamed of herself. “Well, of course!”
That was probably the only thing that could have distracted Lucas from watching the match. He was normally one of the team’s biggest supporters, screaming and cheering in the stands every time. Snogging a pretty girl was more important, obviously. Johnny couldn’t blame him for that. And Tink was certainly very pretty, in a girl-next-door sort of way, and her personality was particularly appealing. Tink always gave the air that she was enjoying herself, and wasn’t easily upset, so long as you didn’t mistreat a horse in front of her.
“Did you walk Hazel all the way to the library?” asked Tink then.
“Just to the entrance hall. I wanted to tell her I’m going to Charms Club tonight.”
“Are you really?” Tink swept a speculative gaze over him. “What on earth for? You barely even pay attention in that class.”
He thought the answer to that was obvious, but explained it to her anyway. He was never averse to talking about himself, even if it was only his motivations. “Because it’s Hazel’s club, and she came to see me play Quidditch. Friends support each other’s interests.”
Tink regarded him in silent contemplation for a moment, and then she asked in a tone that could only be described as suspicious, “Do you really just want to be her friend? Or do you fancy Hazel?”
“She’s my friend,” Johnny said firmly, and maybe a little too quickly. “The last thing Hazel would want is for me to fancy her.”
“That’s what she says,” Tink agreed, but she still sounded rather suspicious.
“Miss Montague, it’s time to pay attention,” called Professor Bartlebaugh.
Hazel would have disapproved strongly that Johnny wasn’t included in her reprimand, but Tink only gave him a knowing smile and turned away from him. Professor Bartlebaugh was very fond of him, and nobody in Defense was surprised when Johnny got special treatment.
*
Hazel was rather nervous as she shuffled the stack of parchment in front of her, seated in the Charms classroom, waiting for the Charms Club to begin. For some reason the knowledge that Johnny would be watching her made her feel like she was about to go onstage for a play whose lines she had not memorized.
You are in charge here, she told herself sternly. Bloody well act like it.
She decided to just ignore him and run the club as she always did. Maybe if she didn’t look at him, she could ignore the bubbling feeling of stage fright in her stomach.
Johnny sauntered in with his usual appalling level of self-confidence. To Hazel’s dismay, most of the club perked up at the sight of him.
Oh bugger, no one’s going to pay attention to anything but him.
“Everyone settle down,” she called sharply. “Johnny, sit down and shut up.”
He chose a seat not far from hers, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted him that close. She wasn’t about to tell him to move somewhere else, of course. People might get ideas. People probably had ideas anyway, she thought with a silent sigh.
She read off the summary of the last meeting’s minutes, then showed them the new book they’d purchased with club moneys after last meeting’s vote, A Retrospective On The Ascension Charm by Ruqayya al-Rachid, which would be added to the small library currently housed in a cupboard in the back of the classroom. She was annoyingly aware of Johnny’s obvious boredom in her peripheral vision, though she was carefully avoiding looking directly at him. Next up was when they actually practiced casting charms, and she had a feeling he’d like that.
She was a little shocked to find she actually did want Johnny to like Charms Club. It was her particular project, something she was quite proud of, and she didn’t want him bored the entire time.
The minutes were a little boring, she admitted to herself. They’d helped clear away her stage fright, though, because she was used to reading the previous meeting minutes off and the familiar task had helped settle her nerves.
“For tonight’s spellwork practice, I want to spend some time on nonverbal spells,” Hazel announced, still avoiding looking at Johnny as best she could. Her eyes kept going to him involuntarily. “I know how tricky those are to most of us, and while nonverbal charms aren’t as powerful as a spell spoken aloud, it’s a skill we all need to develop.”
“Johnny’s really good at nonverbal spells,” spoke up Perla Chetworth, a sixth year Hufflepuff who up until this point Hazel had always quite liked. “Maybe he could give us some tips.”
“Happy to,” Johnny agreed with a broad smile.
Hazel had visions of the club meeting devolving into the Johnny Lupin Show, starring Johnny showing off all the tricks he could do nonverbally, and was visited with a strong sense of doom. Everyone looked so chuffed at the suggestion that Johnny teach them that she didn’t have the heart to say no. And he was good at everything, twat that he was.
“All right, but limit yourself to one spell and three tips,” she commanded him.
Johnny saluted her and then got to his feet to show off his rather good nonverbal Summoning Charm. He did obey her about limiting his tips, so he didn’t go on for too long while lecturing his captive and rapt audience, and she had to admit as the Charms Club began Summoning things around the classroom in silent glee that he really was a good teacher, just as he’d said.
Dodging a flying inkwell, Johnny came over to stand next to Hazel.
“Have you always been good at everything?” she inquired, eyeing him.
“From birth,” he said cheerfully.
“Oh, I just knew you’d been born a twat,” Hazel retorted, and then they both had to duck a cushion that whizzed past overhead.
They smiled at each other as they straightened back up, and Hazel realized she’d relaxed now that the worst was over. Johnny had been a show-off, but he hadn’t completely derailed the club with it. And with him standing beside her while everyone worked hard at doing as strong a charm as he could do, she was relieved to find that she didn’t feel her authority had been usurped. Probably his little salute that had made it clear to the rest of them that he considered her in charge.
Johnny batted away a quill before it could hit Hazel’s shoulder. “This is sort of fun. Do you teach them a new spell each week?”
“We only meet once a month,” she told him. “We’re all quite busy with our studies. And no, we take turns presenting.”
“I reckon this was my turn, then,” he said, and Hazel smiled.
“I suppose so. I hope it’s less boring than Quidditch was.”
“Quidditch is not boring,” he told her very seriously, though his eyes were twinkling. “Especially when I play it.”
Hazel groaned theatrically, trying not to smile at him. “Oh, you’re such a twat.”