The Daughter of Valancaire

Jessa’s POV

I woke up early, my excitement bubbling over like a freshly brewed potion. Today was Potions class, and I wasn’t about to let anything—especially my notorious sense of direction—make me late. I purposely gave myself extra time, just in case I ended up wandering down the wrong corridor again.  

The Ravenclaw dormitory was quiet, most of my housemates still tucked in their beds. I tiptoed around, grabbing my things and stuffing them into my bag before heading out. The castle was peaceful in the early morning hours, the only sound being the occasional hoot of an owl or the soft creak of the old wooden floors beneath my feet.  

The trek to the dungeons was straightforward enough—at least, I thought it was. I had reviewed the route in my mind before setting out, but Hogwarts had a way of twisting itself just when I thought I had it figured out.  

“Left at the second corridor... or was it right?” I muttered to myself as I reached a familiar-looking junction.  

Luckily, I spotted a group of students heading in the same direction and followed them discreetly. They led me straight to the Potions classroom, and I sighed in relief. For once, I wasn’t hopelessly lost.  

Arriving early, I took a seat at one of the workstations near the middle of the room. My cauldron was polished and ready, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of anticipation as I unpacked my ingredients. The smell of brewing potions from previous lessons lingered in the air, a mix of herbs, spices, and something faintly acrid.  

As more students trickled in, I spotted Sebastian strolling in with his usual confidence, followed closely by Ominis. Sebastian noticed me immediately and gave me a nod of approval.  

“Early, are we?” he said as he passed by, a smirk on his face.  

“Don’t start,” I replied with a grin.  

“Impressive,” he teased. “I half-expected to find you wandering into Herbology instead.”  

Ominis chuckled as they settled into their seats nearby. “Give her some credit, Sebastian. She made it here on time. That’s progress.”  

Rolling my eyes, I focused on organizing my workspace. I wasn’t about to let their teasing get to me—not today. Potions was one of the few classes I truly loved, and I was determined to make the most of it.  

As Professor Sharp entered the room, the chatter died down, and my excitement grew. It was time to brew, and for once, I felt completely in my element.


——-

Before class officially began, Professor Sharp called my name, his tone calm but firm. I quickly got up from my seat and walked over to his desk.  

“Miss Valancaire,” he said, peering at me over his spectacles. “I understand your trunk was lost during your journey to Hogwarts.”  

I blinked, a little surprised. “Yes, sir. But I’ve managed so far.”  

“Good,” he said with a nod. “However, if you find yourself missing anything—tools, ingredients, or otherwise—I have a storage room with spare supplies. You’re welcome to borrow what you need for now.”  

“That’s very kind of you, Professor,” I said, genuinely appreciative. “I think I have everything, but I wouldn’t mind taking a look.”  

He gave me a curt nod. “Down the corridor, third door on your left. Be quick—we’ll be starting shortly.”  

“Yes, Professor,” I replied and headed out of the classroom, following his directions.  

As I reached the corridor, I suddenly heard a loud, exaggerated whisper from around the corner.  

“Psst!”  

Startled, I turned toward the sound and saw a ginger-haired boy with a wide, mischievous grin peeking out from the shadows.  

“Hey, you there!” he said, waving me over like we were old friends.  

I hesitated, glancing around to make sure he wasn’t addressing someone else. “Me?”  

“Yes, you!” he said, stepping closer. “You’re new, aren’t you? Jessa, right?”  

“I am,” I said, tilting my head. “And you are?”  

“Gareth Weasley,” he said, puffing up a little. “Culinary artist, experimental potioneer, and all-around genius—if I do say so myself.”  

I raised an eyebrow. “Right. And what do you want?”  

“Well,” he said, lowering his voice dramatically, “I couldn’t help but notice you’re heading toward Sharp’s storage room. Perfect timing, really. I need a little favor.”  

“A favor?” I asked suspiciously.  

“Nothing dangerous,” he said quickly, though his eager grin told a different story. “Just a tiny little ingredient. A single fwooper feather. They’re bound to have some in there.”  

“And why do you need a fwooper feather?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.  

“For a, uh... project,” he said, his grin widening. “Let’s just say it’ll bring a bit of flair to Potions class.”  

I sighed, already sensing that this boy was nothing but trouble. “Let me guess—you’d get it yourself, but Professor Sharp’s already watching you like a hawk?”  

Gareth’s grin turned sheepish. “You catch on fast. So, what do you say? Help a fellow student out? I’d owe you one—big time.”  

I hesitated, weighing my options. “I’m not sure this is a good idea...”  

“Oh, come on,” he pleaded, clasping his hands together like he was begging for his life. “One little feather. Sharp won’t even notice it’s gone.”  

I let out a long sigh, shaking my head. “Fine. But if this gets me in trouble, I’m blaming you.”  

“Deal!” Gareth said, his grin returning full force. “You’re a legend, Jessa. An absolute legend.”  

With a roll of my eyes, I pushed open the door to the storage room, already wondering if agreeing to this favor was the first mistake of my Hogwarts career. 

————

Walking toward the storage room, I caught sight of Sebastian at his workstation. He had paused mid-motion, stirring his cauldron, and was now watching my interaction with Gareth Weasley with a puzzled expression. I could almost hear the questions forming in his mind: *What are they up to?*  

I quickly averted my gaze, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself, and continued on my way.  

As I passed by Natty, she beamed at me, her warm smile as reassuring as ever. “Well done, Jessa,” she said in her lilting accent, giving me a nod of approval. “No getting lost today—and you’re even early! Impressive.”  

“Thanks,” I said, chuckling nervously. *Barely made it,* I thought, but I appreciated the encouragement nonetheless.  

Samantha was seated nearby, her head resting on her arms as if she’d been dozing just moments ago. As I passed, she groggily opened one eye and gave me a half-smile. “You left me sleeping with a note,” she murmured, her voice laced with sleepy amusement. “Wake me next time, won’t you?”  

I laughed softly and nodded. “I’ll make sure of it.”  

With that, I turned back toward my task, pushing open the door to the storage room and stepping inside. As I did, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of multiple eyes on my back—Sebastian’s confusion, Gareth’s hopeful anticipation, and probably Professor Sharp’s unspoken awareness.  

*Here’s hoping this little favor doesn’t end in disaster.* 


——-

Sharp’s storage room was nothing short of impressive. Rows upon rows of glass jars and bottles lined the shelves, each containing ingredients that ranged from the familiar to the downright sinister. Some I could name from the books I’d devoured in the library—lacewing flies, powdered bicorn horn, and fluxweed—but others were mysterious, their dark contents swirling or glowing faintly in ways that made my stomach twist with curiosity and a hint of unease.  

*Does Sharp ever worry about students sneaking in here?* I thought, marveling at the sheer variety.  

As I scanned the shelves, my eyes landed on the fwooper feathers Gareth had asked for. They were vibrant, iridescent in the faint light of the room, and looked almost too beautiful to be part of some chaotic potion experiment.  

*Just one feather won’t be missed…right?*  

Hesitantly, I reached out and plucked a single feather from the jar. I didn’t need anything else, so after taking a moment to admire the organization of the room, I turned on my heel and made my way back to the classroom.  

As I passed Gareth’s workstation, I slid the feather to him discreetly, careful not to draw Sharp’s sharp gaze. He grinned, his green eyes lighting up with mischief, and mouthed, “Thank you.”  

I gave him a brief nod before returning to my spot. *This better be worth it,* I thought, glancing over at Sebastian, who was now watching both of us with even more suspicion.

——

As I slid back into my workstation between Ominis and Sebastian, I felt Sharp's piercing gaze on me. He must have noticed me returning from the storage room, and for a moment, I wondered if he’d seen the feather handoff. But he said nothing, his expression unreadable as ever, and instead turned to address the class.  

“Today, we will be brewing the Wiggenweld Potion,” he announced in his deep, authoritative tone. “A vital potion for healing minor injuries—if brewed correctly. However, if you’re careless, it can be rendered completely ineffective—or worse, harmful. Follow the instructions carefully.”  

The classroom hummed with quiet excitement, and I couldn’t help but share it. Brewing potions was something I’d been looking forward to since arriving at Hogwarts, and now that I was finally here, I wanted to prove myself.  

Sebastian leaned over slightly, smirking. “You ready for this, Ravenclaw? First potions class—you’ve got to make a good impression on Sharp.”  

“Don’t worry,” I shot back. “I’ve read enough to know what I’m doing.”  

“Let’s hope so,” Ominis muttered dryly. “If Gareth’s antics don’t blow up the room first, that is.”  

At that, I couldn’t help but glance over at Gareth, who was already working with the fwooper feather I’d passed him. He looked far too eager, like someone about to ignore all instructions and see what happened.  

Sharp’s voice cut through the room again. “Begin.”  

I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves, and reached for the ingredients laid out before me. Flobberworm mucus, horklump juice, and dittany leaves—I measured each carefully, following the instructions on the board to the letter. The potion in my cauldron began to take on a pale green hue, bubbling gently.  

“You’ve got the hang of it,” Sebastian commented, glancing into my cauldron. “Not bad for a first-timer.”  

“Thanks,” I replied, a small sense of pride welling up.  

Ominis added, “Just don’t let your attention wander. Sharp has a way of catching even the smallest mistake.”  

I nodded, focusing intently on the next step. Across the room, a puff of smoke erupted from Gareth’s cauldron, and I heard him mutter something under his breath. *This is going to be interesting,* I thought, keeping one eye on my potion and another on the brewing chaos.

——

Across the room, a loud *pop* was followed by a plume of bright purple smoke billowing out of Gareth Weasley's cauldron. The entire class turned to look, a mix of amusement and concern on their faces.  

Sharp let out a long, weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not again, Mr. Weasley,” he said, his voice heavy with exasperation. “Do you *ever* follow instructions?”  

Gareth opened his mouth, likely to come up with one of his cheeky excuses, but Sharp raised a hand to silence him. “Save it. I know you didn’t come up with this on your own.”  

I froze in place, a chill running down my spine as Sharp’s eyes scanned the room.  

“Oh no,” I whispered, suddenly regretting my earlier decision to help Gareth.  

Sebastian, catching on, leaned over with a grin that was far too amused for my liking. “You’re in it now,” he murmured, smirking.  

I glared at him. “Not helping, Sebastian.”  

Sharp’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before he returned his focus to Gareth. “Since you’re so eager to experiment, you can spend the rest of the class cleaning up this mess. And detention. Again.”  

The class erupted in a mix of stifled laughter and whispers. I sank lower in my seat, hoping to avoid any further attention.  

“Relax,” Sebastian said, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Sharp’s suspicious, but he doesn’t know for sure. You might just get away with it.”  

Ominis, ever the voice of reason, leaned in as well. “Or you might not. If I were you, I’d avoid any future feather-related favors.”  

I groaned inwardly, focusing on finishing my potion. This was not how I wanted my first potions class to go.

——-

Sharp moved through the classroom, his sharp eyes scrutinizing each cauldron with the precision of a hawk. As he approached my workstation, I braced myself, hands clasped tightly together.  

He leaned over my cauldron, inhaling lightly before dipping a ladle into the mixture. He tilted it, watching as the potion flowed back smoothly, its color a perfect emerald green. “Impressive,” he said gruffly, straightening up. “A well-brewed Wiggenweld Potion. You’ve got a knack for this, it seems.”  

I blinked in surprise, not expecting the compliment, but before I could let it settle, he fixed me with a pointed look. “That said, I’d advise you to avoid indulging in Weasley’s antics.”  

My cheeks burned. “I wasn’t— I mean, I thought I was just helping a classmate. I didn’t know it would—”  

Sharp held up a hand, cutting me off. “Intentions aside, you’re responsible for your choices. A valuable lesson in life, and in potions.”  

I nodded quickly, feeling the weight of his words. “I understand, Professor. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”  

He studied me for a moment, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Good,” he said at last. “I’ll let it go this time, but there won’t be a next time. Remember that.”  

As he moved on to the next student, I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.  

Sebastian nudged me with his elbow, a sly grin on his face. “Well, look at you, earning both praise and a scolding in your first potions class. Quite the accomplishment.”  

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face. Despite the mishap, I’d made it through, and the compliment from Sharp made it feel like a small victory.

——

As the bell rang, signaling the end of Potions class, Professor Sharp addressed the room one last time, his voice firm. “For homework, I expect twenty inches of parchment on the uses and properties of Dittany. Due next class. You can thank Mr. Weasley for the extra workload.”  

A collective groan swept through the classroom, and I couldn’t help but glance at Gareth. He looked back at me sheepishly, mouthing, *“Sorry.”*  

I offered him a small smile in return. There was nothing to hex him about. In truth, I found his curiosity and willingness to experiment admirable—albeit risky. Creativity often came with trial and error, and I understood the need to push boundaries to discover something new.  

As I packed up my things, Sebastian leaned in with a smirk. “Twenty inches, thanks to your partner-in-crime. I bet you’re thrilled.”  

“I don’t mind,” I said, shrugging. “It’s about Dittany, after all. That’s fascinating enough to write about. And honestly, Gareth just has a curious mind. Creations need experimentation, even if it doesn’t always go to plan.”  

Sebastian chuckled. “You’re a lot more forgiving than Sharp.”  

“Well, someone has to be,” I replied with a grin.  

Ominis joined us, shaking his head. “I’m just grateful we didn’t end up with another explosion. Though I suppose twenty inches of parchment is the safer alternative.”  

“Agreed,” Sebastian said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Though next time, Jessa, maybe warn me if you plan to ‘help’ him again. I’d like to keep my eyebrows intact.”  

I laughed as we left the classroom together, heading into the bustling corridors of the castle. Despite the extra homework, I couldn’t deny that Potions class had been exciting—and maybe just a little bit chaotic in the best way.

——

As we made our way down the corridor, weaving through the crowd of students, I noticed Samantha wasn’t anywhere to be seen.  

“Have you seen Samantha?” I asked Natty, glancing back toward the Potions classroom.  

Natty shook her head. “She left in a hurry after Potions. She told me to let you know she’ll meet you at dinner.”  

“She seemed a bit...distraught,” Poppy added, her brows knitting together in concern.  

I frowned slightly, worry bubbling up. Samantha wasn’t usually one to keep to herself like this. “I hope she’s alright,” I murmured.  

“I’m sure she is,” Natty reassured me with a kind smile. “She probably just needs a moment to herself.”  

Before I could dwell on it too much, Poppy’s cheerful voice broke through my thoughts.  

“We have Herbology next as well!” she announced, her excitement brightening the mood.  

“That’s brilliant!” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Looks like we’ll all be in class together again.”  

Poppy nodded, adjusting the strap of her bag. “I’ve been looking forward to this one. Professor Garlick always makes Herbology so enjoyable.”  

“Enjoyable?” Sebastian teased, raising an eyebrow. “I’d describe it more as ‘muddy.’”  

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, Sebastian,” Natty said with a laugh. “You might even learn something if you stop complaining long enough to pay attention.”  

“I always pay attention!” he retorted, feigning offense.  

“Sure you do,” Ominis said dryly, earning a chuckle from the rest of us.  

We continued down the corridor, the chatter lively as we talked about what we might be learning in Herbology. Poppy was especially animated, speculating about the types of plants we might be handling. Her excitement was contagious, and by the time we reached the greenhouse, I found myself eagerly anticipating the class as well.  

Still, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake the small thread of worry about Samantha. Whatever was bothering her, I hoped she’d share it at dinner. For now, I let myself focus on the moment. It was nice to have friends to share these moments with. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, I truly felt like I belonged.  

———

As we approached the greenhouse, the ever-cheerful Professor Garlick stood by the door, warmly welcoming each student who entered. Her radiant smile was enough to brighten even the gloomiest of days.  

When it was my turn, she clasped her hands together and exclaimed, “Ah, a new rose in our garden! Welcome, my dear!”  

Her enthusiasm caught me off guard, and my cheeks flushed a little. Before I could respond, a giggle erupted from Natty and Poppy, their delight at Professor Garlick’s words evident.  

Ominis, walking just behind me, couldn’t resist. “A rose, is it? Well, roses do have thorns—how fitting,” he said with a perfectly dry tone, his lips curling into a smirk.  

Sebastian chuckled and nudged him lightly. “Careful, Ominis. She might take that as a challenge.”  

I rolled my eyes at the both of them, though a small smile tugged at my lips. “Don’t test me, Ominis. You know I’m still considering hexing you for the ‘damsel in distress’ comment.”  

Professor Garlick looked between us with a bemused expression, clearly amused by the banter. “Oh, I see you’ll fit in quite well here,” she said with a warm laugh.  

I stepped into the greenhouse, the earthy scent of soil and plants filling the air, and let the teasing fade into the background as I marveled at the vibrant array of greenery surrounding us. It felt like stepping into another world—a beautiful, thriving oasis in the middle of the castle grounds.  

“Come along, everyone!” Professor Garlick called, her voice lilting as she directed us toward the long rows of tables. “We have much to do today, and I can’t wait to get started!”  

I glanced at Ominis and Sebastian, who were still smirking. Shaking my head, I made my way to an empty spot at the table, ready for whatever the lesson had in store.

—-
I settled between Ominis and Natty, each of us facing a small pot placed in front of us. The faintly damp smell of soil filled the greenhouse, mingling with the scent of herbs and flowers. Professor Garlick clapped her hands together, her smile radiant as she moved to the front of the room.  

“Today, we’ll be working with mandrakes!” she announced, her excitement practically infectious.  

A murmur rippled through the class, some students exchanging nervous glances. I tilted my head slightly, curious. I’d read about mandrakes in one of the herbology books I borrowed from the library—they were notorious for their piercing cries.  

Professor Garlick gestured to a large tray of plants behind her, each with leafy green tops sticking out of the soil. “Mandrakes are fascinating creatures, but as you’ve likely read, their cries can be quite… intense. For that reason, safety first!” She lifted a pair of earmuffs from the table and held them up for us to see.  

Ominis turned his head slightly toward me. “Ah, mandrakes. Nature’s way of reminding us that plants can scream too,” he muttered, his tone dry.  

Natty giggled softly. “You’ll be fine, Ominis. I’ve heard the cries only last a few moments.”  

“Easy for you to say,” Ominis replied with a smirk. “You’ll be able to see it coming.”  

Professor Garlick handed out earmuffs, and I put mine on, pressing them snugly over my ears. The greenhouse was suddenly muted, the chatter of students replaced by muffled vibrations.  

“Now, when you pull your mandrake from its pot, hold it firmly and place it into the new pot as quickly as possible,” Professor Garlick instructed, demonstrating with practiced ease. The plant she pulled out wriggled violently, its small, humanoid root twisting and wailing—though thankfully, the sound was mostly dampened by the earmuffs.  

I glanced at my pot, then at Ominis and Natty. Natty looked eager, her hands already on her mandrake, while Ominis looked resigned, as if preparing for the worst.  

“Well, here goes,” I murmured to myself, gripping the leafy top of my own mandrake. With a deep breath, I pulled it free, its shrill cry muffled but still audible. The little creature flailed wildly, its root-like limbs flinging dirt everywhere.  

Quickly, I placed it into the larger pot and began packing soil around it, trying not to let it slip from my grasp. Across the table, Natty had already finished, her mandrake nestled snugly in its new home.  

Ominis, meanwhile, struggled a bit more. “It’s like wrangling a particularly angry turnip,” he muttered, making Natty and me laugh as we helped guide his hands.  

Once all the mandrakes were safely repotted, Professor Garlick gave us a cheerful thumbs-up and motioned for us to remove our earmuffs.  

“Well done, everyone!” she praised, her voice bright and encouraging. “Your mandrakes are now in their new homes, and they’ll thrive thanks to your care.”  

I glanced down at my freshly repotted mandrake, now silent and still, and felt a small sense of accomplishment. Even Ominis looked somewhat pleased—though I wasn’t sure if it was from surviving the ordeal or simply being done with it.  

“Not bad for your first herbology class with mandrakes,” Natty said, nudging my arm.  

“Not bad at all,” I agreed with a grin, brushing some stray dirt off my hands. This class was definitely an experience I wouldn’t forget anytime soon. 

—-

Before ending the class, Professor Garlick clapped her hands with a bright smile. “Everyone, please ensure your mandrake pots are properly settled on the shelves,” she instructed. “We don’t want any of our little ones causing a ruckus later!”  

As the class began tidying up, she approached me. “Miss Valancaire, a quick word, if you don’t mind?”  

I stepped forward curiously, and she gestured toward a section of the greenhouse brimming with exotic and slightly menacing plants. “There are a few plants in the greenhouse that you should familiarize yourself with to ensure you navigate safely. Some of them can be a bit... tricky.”  

She scanned the room and called out, “Mr. Prewett, would you assist Miss Valancaire? You’ve spent enough time in here to be quite familiar with these.”  

The red-haired boy glanced up, looking slightly startled but nodded. He approached us, brushing his hands off on his robes.  

“Leander Prewett,” he introduced himself, extending a hand toward me.  

“Jessa Valancaire,” I replied, shaking his hand.  

I took a moment to study him, and then recognition dawned on me. “Wait, I remember you! You were in Defense Against the Dark Arts. You dueled Sebastian.”  

His lips pressed into a tight line. “Ah, yes, that’s me. The one who *lost* to Sebastian Sallow,” he said with a faint bitterness.  

I winced, realizing the memory might still sting. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”  

He cut me off with a shrug. “It’s fine. He’s been insufferable about it ever since, but I suppose I deserved it for underestimating him. Still, he could stand to be taken down a peg.”  

I couldn’t help but laugh softly at his candidness.  

Professor Garlick smiled warmly at the interaction. “Leander, please show her the devil’s snare and the venomous tentacula. Miss Valancaire, pay close attention—these plants are fascinating but demand respect.”  

Leander nodded, leading me toward the far side of the greenhouse. As he pointed out the various plants, his tone shifted between prideful explanation and the occasional, still-bitter remark about Sebastian. I listened, filing away his tips about the dangerous greenery and doing my best not to smile too much at his lingering frustration over their duel.

——-

As the class wrapped up, I turned to Leander with a small smile. “Thanks for showing me around the greenhouse. I appreciate it.”  

He nodded, still looking a bit gruff. “No problem. Just be careful around the tentacula. They like to bite.”  

I chuckled nervously and grabbed my things, heading toward the door where Natty, Poppy, Sebastian, and Ominis were already waiting.  

Just as I was about to join them, Leander’s voice cut through the air, directed at Sebastian. “Sallow.”  

Sebastian turned his head, his expression cool and collected. “Prewett.”  

The way they greeted each other was anything but friendly—each name was practically spat out like a challenge. I glanced between the two, noticing the tension lingering in the air like storm clouds.  

Sebastian smirked slightly, tilting his head. “Still upset about Defense Against the Dark Arts, are we?”  

Leander crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “I’m just reminding you that the castle doesn’t revolve around you, Sallow. Enjoy your little victories while they last.”  

Ominis sighed loudly, clearly uninterested in the brewing drama. “Honestly, the two of you are like an endless duel without wands.”  

Poppy leaned toward Natty and whispered, “Should we referee?”  

Natty giggled softly, shaking her head.  

I stepped closer to Sebastian and gently tugged at his sleeve. “Come on, let’s go. Herbology’s over, and so is the competition.”  

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, still grinning smugly at Leander, before shrugging. “Fair enough. Wouldn’t want to waste any more time.”  

With that, our group left the greenhouse, the tension fading behind us as we walked toward the Great Hall. As we passed through the corridor, I couldn’t help but glance back at Leander. He seemed frustrated but determined. Whatever unfinished business he thought he had with Sebastian, it was clear he wasn’t letting it go anytime soon. 


——

As we walked into the Great Hall for lunch, the enticing aroma of roasted meats and fresh bread filled the air. My eyes instinctively scanned the Ravenclaw table for Samantha, but she was nowhere to be found. The knot of worry in my chest tightened. Where could she be?  

“Still no Samantha?” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.  

Sebastian, however, caught it and nudged me lightly. “Come on, sit with us today. You’ll worry yourself sick otherwise.”  

Before I could protest, he steered me toward the Slytherin table, where Natty and Poppy followed with amused grins.  

As we approached, my eyes landed on Jace, already seated and engaged in conversation with Ominis. He glanced up and spotted me immediately, his expression softening with recognition.  

The moment I sat down beside him, he leaned slightly closer, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “Didn’t I warn you to be careful of Weasley?” he said with a chuckle.  

I rolled my eyes, setting my plate down. “Oh, he’s harmless. You make him sound like a menace.”  

Jace raised a brow. “Harmless? Didn’t Sharp just give you a lecture for indulging his antics?”  

I sighed, shaking my head. “It wasn’t like that—I was just helping him out.”  

Sebastian snorted from across the table. “Helping a Weasley is practically inviting chaos into your life.”  

“Don’t encourage him,” I shot back, trying to suppress a smile.  

Poppy giggled as she settled in beside Natty. “Poor Gareth. He’s really not that bad, you know. He just has... creative energy.”  

“Creative energy?” Jace repeated with a laugh. “That’s a generous way of putting it.”  

Despite the playful banter, I couldn’t fully shake the lingering worry for Samantha. I glanced at Natty, who gave me a reassuring smile. “She said she’d meet you at dinner,” she reminded me gently.  

I nodded, trying to push the thought aside for now. Sitting here with my brother and friends, the lively chatter and clinking of plates did offer a small sense of comfort. For the moment, I let myself relax and enjoy the company.

——-

As we sat chatting and eating, I spotted Gareth entering the Great Hall. His robes were slightly disheveled—probably from all the cauldron scrubbing—and he looked relieved to finally be done.  

He caught sight of me, a grin spreading across his face, and approached our table. I straightened up, curious.  

“Hey,” he said, placing a small box in front of me. It was neatly tied with a Honeydukes ribbon, the logo etched on the side. “These are for you. My apologies—and thanks—for earlier.”  

“Thank you, Gareth,” I said, smiling at him, genuinely touched by the gesture.  

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, giving me a sheepish smile before quickly retreating to the Gryffindor table to join his friends.  

The moment he left, Natty and Poppy leaned in, both “Oooohhhh”-ing in unison, their faces lit with mischievous grins.  

Sebastian, ever the joker, snorted. “Weasel’s trying to sweeten you up, huh? Careful. He might’ve slipped a bomb in those cupcakes.”  

Ominis, sitting quietly beside Sebastian, tilted his head slightly and muttered, “I wouldn’t put it past him.”  

I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, Jace chimed in with a teasing smirk. “No. I don’t want a ginger nephew.”  

That earned him a playful smack on the arm. “Jace!” I exclaimed, trying not to laugh.  

The table dissolved into laughter, and even I couldn’t help but join in, shaking my head. The cupcakes sat untouched for now, but the warmth of the moment made me momentarily forget my earlier worries.

——
After lunch, my friends began to scatter, each with their own plans for the afternoon.  

“I’m off to see my mother,” Natty said with a smile, referring to Professor Onai.  

“I’ve got to feed the beasts,” Poppy added, looking genuinely excited about her task.  

Ominis stretched slightly and sighed. “Free period. I’m going to nap. Don’t disturb me unless the castle’s on fire.”  

Sebastian, as expected, declared, “Library,” which immediately piqued my curiosity.  

“You’re always in the library,” I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. “But I never seem to run into you there. What exactly are you up to?”  

He smirked but didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes darted to the box of cupcakes sitting in front of me.  

Before I could stop him, he lunged forward, snatching the box from my hands and darting off.  

“Sebastian!” I yelled, leaping to my feet. “You prat, give those back!”  

His laugh echoed down the hall as he ran, holding the box high like some kind of prize. I could hear his teasing voice trailing behind him. “Think of it as a tax for sitting at the Slytherin table!”  

I groaned, half-laughing, half-annoyed, and shook my head. That boy was impossible.

——

As I made my way to the field for flying class, I was both excited and nervous. The dragon attack still lingered in my mind, and I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy about being so high off the ground again.  

The other students were already gathering, and Professor Kogawa stood at the front, looking serene but focused. She gestured for everyone to come closer, her voice steady and reassuring as she began to explain the basics of flying.  

I was inspecting the broomsticks laid out on the grass when a voice beside me spoke up. “First time flying, huh?”  

I turned to see a boy with messy brown hair and a friendly smile. “Everett Clopton,” he introduced himself, extending a hand. “Future flying expert and all-around mischief maker.”  

I shook his hand, laughing lightly despite my nerves. “Jessa,” I replied. “And yes, it’s my first time. Not exactly feeling like a natural at this.”  

“Don’t worry,” Everett said with a wink. “It’s easier than it looks. Just don’t think about falling. ”  

“Thanks, that’s really helpful,” I interrupted, rolling my eyes but smiling.  

He chuckled. “Kidding! But seriously, just relax. Professor Kogawa’s the best, and you’ve got me here. If you fall, I’ll—uh, wave from the ground. Maybe write a eulogy.”  

Despite myself, I laughed again, the tension in my shoulders easing. Everett’s humor was infectious, and for the first time since I arrived, I didn’t feel completely out of place.  

“Alright, everyone,” Professor Kogawa called, her voice cutting through the chatter. “Time to mount your brooms. Let’s see how you do.”  

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, my fingers brushing the broom handle. Time to face my fears. 

—-

"Up!" I said firmly, holding my hand over the broom. For a second, it didn’t move, just lay there on the ground, mocking me. But then, with a small jolt, it jumped into my hand.  

A rush of relief flooded through me. One step down.  

“Excellent!” Professor Kogawa said, nodding in approval as she passed by. “Now, mount your brooms and sit properly. Keep your grip firm but relaxed.”  

I swung a leg over the broom, trying to remember everything I had read about flying. Keep your balance, don't grip too tight, and for Merlin's sake, don’t think about plummeting to your doom.  

To my right, Everett was already seated on his broom with the ease of someone who’d done this a hundred times. He smirked at me. “See? Told you it’s easy.”  

I shot him a look. “We haven’t even left the ground yet.”  

“Details,” he replied with a grin.  

Professor Kogawa stepped to the front of the group. “On my count, gently push off the ground and hover. Remember, confidence is key.”  

Confidence, right. I tightened my grip slightly, feeling the broom shift under me.  

“One, two, three… push off!”  

I pushed my feet off the ground, and the broom wobbled slightly as it rose. My stomach dropped, but I managed to steady myself. I was hovering! The ground was a few feet below me, and for a moment, the thrill of it all drowned out my nerves.  

“You’re doing great,” Everett said, giving me a thumbs-up as he floated effortlessly nearby.

“Don’t jinx it,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.  

Professor Kogawa moved among the students, offering pointers and corrections. “Keep your posture upright, Ms. Valancaire. Mr. Clopton, I see you’re eager to show off—save the stunts for later, please.”  

Everett gave her a mock salute before glancing at me. “See? Told you she’s the best.”  

I nodded, feeling a little steadier now. Maybe, just maybe, I could do this. 

—-

As Professor Kogawa observed us, ensuring we were all steady on our brooms, she finally spoke. “You’re settling in well. Now, I’ll give you a chance to explore the field. Fly carefully, stay within the boundaries, and keep an eye on your surroundings. When you hear the whistle, return immediately.”

The class buzzed with excitement, brooms rising a little higher as students scattered across the open space. I glanced over at Everett, who was already grinning like he had something devious planned.

“Careful exploration, she said,” I muttered under my breath.

Everett scoffed. “Where’s the fun in that? Come on, Valancaire. Let’s make this first flight memorable.”

I hesitated. “We’re supposed to stay within the field.”

He rolled his eyes. “Rules, rules. Don’t worry. I’ll guide you. We’ll just do a quick loop around the castle. You’ll thank me later.”

Before I could protest further, Everett shot forward, his broom slicing through the air like it had a mind of its own. “Come on, keep up!” he called over his shoulder.

I sighed but couldn’t resist the challenge. “Fine! But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.”  

“Deal,” he shouted back, already leading the way.

As I followed him, the field quickly fell behind us, and the breathtaking view of Hogwarts spread out before me. The castle’s spires gleamed in the sunlight, the Forbidden Forest loomed dark and mysterious, and the Black Lake sparkled like a giant sapphire. My nerves began to melt away, replaced by awe.

“See? Worth it, right?” Everett said, glancing back at me as we swooped low over the grounds.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, I’ll admit it—it’s incredible.”

“Stick with me, and I’ll show you all the best spots,” he said, banking left and guiding me around a tower. “Just don’t fall behind!”

We looped around the castle, flying over courtyards and between towers. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so free. The broom responded to every shift of my weight, and for the first time, I wasn’t thinking about dragons or falling—I was just flying.

But then a sharp whistle cut through the air, breaking the spell. I pulled up, heart pounding. “That’s Kogawa. We need to go back!”

Everett groaned. “Alright, alright. Let’s head back before she sends the search party.”

---

As Everett and I landed, the rest of the class was already dismounting and placing their brooms back in the stands. I carefully slid off mine, trying not to look as guilty as I felt. Everett, of course, looked entirely unbothered, his usual smirk firmly in place.

“Excellent class today,” Professor Kogawa began, her voice carrying across the field. “Though some of you seemed to have taken a... creative interpretation of my instructions.”

My stomach dropped. Oh no.

“Valancaire, Clopton,” she called, her sharp gaze locking onto us. “I’m sure the two of you found your unauthorized little tour of the grounds thoroughly enlightening.”

Everett cleared his throat. “Er, it was very... scenic, Professor.”

I elbowed him hard. This was not the time for cheekiness.

Professor Kogawa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t tolerate recklessness, even during exploration. Flying is a privilege, not a free pass to flout my instructions. Ten points from Ravenclaw, and I suggest you think twice before pulling a stunt like that again.”

I bit my lip, nodding quickly. “Yes, Professor. I’m sorry.”

Everett, to his credit, managed a more earnest, “Understood, Professor. It won’t happen again.”

With that, she dismissed the class. As we walked toward the broom stands to carefully place our brooms back, Everett leaned in and whispered, “Ten points isn’t so bad. Could’ve been worse.”

I shot him a look. “You’re impossible.”

He grinned. “Maybe. But admit it—you had fun.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. He wasn’t wrong. Fun or not, though, I was definitely going to tread more carefully next time. 

---

By the time I left the field, I was utterly drained. Between the nerve-wracking flying class and Everett’s antics, I felt like I’d lived through a week’s worth of trouble in one afternoon. My mind, however, lit up at the thought of my evening plans—my promise to Ominis to grab butterbeer. That should help shake off the stress.

After freshening up quickly in the dormitory, I made my way toward the castle’s main hall, where I hoped to find Ominis. He’s usually easy to spot, thanks to his distinct way of carrying himself, not to mention the soft glow of his wand. Sure enough, as I reached the bottom of the staircase, there he was, waiting near the hourglasses that displayed house points.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, his tone calm as ever. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.”

I shook my head and smiled. “Never. I just needed a moment to recover from flying class. You missed quite the spectacle.”

“Let me guess,” he said with a sly smirk. “You got into trouble.”

My mouth fell open. “How do you—how do you *always* know?”

He chuckled, his amusement evident even if he couldn’t see my expression. “Because, Jessa, trouble seems to follow you wherever you go. Shall we?”

I laughed softly and fell in step beside him as we headed toward Hogsmeade. The prospect of butterbeer and a calm evening was exactly what I needed after the day I’d had. 

———-

As we walked toward Hogsmeade, I casually glanced around the castle grounds, trying to process the day, when a thought struck me. “Wait, is Sebastian joining us?”

Ominis let out a soft sigh, almost as if he’d anticipated the question. “No. He’s in detention.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “Detention? For what?” 

“Restricted section,” Ominis said, his tone exasperated, though there was an undertone of familiarity—as if this wasn’t the first time. “He just can’t seem to stay away from there.”

I blinked in disbelief. “There’s a *restricted* section?” 

He turned his head slightly toward me, and though he couldn’t see my expression, he seemed to sense my growing curiosity. “Oh no,” he said firmly, his tone dropping. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What?” I feigned innocence, though I was clearly terrible at it.  

“I can *hear* the interest in your voice, Jessa. Let me make myself perfectly clear—whatever you think you’ll find in that place isn’t worth the trouble you’ll bring upon yourself. Trust me.”

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

Ominis chuckled darkly. “Because I am. And if you value your free time, you’ll keep your inquisitive nature far away from that section.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly as we continued toward Hogsmeade. “Noted. For now.”

“*For now*?” Ominis muttered, shaking his head. “Merlin help me.”  

Despite his exasperation, I could tell he wasn’t truly upset. If anything, he seemed almost entertained by the thought of my potential mischief. But for now, the restricted section would remain a mystery... and butterbeer was calling.

——

The warm hum of the Three Broomsticks wrapped around us as we stepped inside. Sirona’s eyes lit up when she saw me.  

“Well, if it isn’t the hero of Hogsmeade!” she called, smiling as she poured two mugs of butterbeer.  

I blushed. “I’m no hero…”  

“Nonsense,” she said warmly. “Standing up to a troll? That’s bravery, dear.”  

“Or recklessness,” Ominis added with a smirk, taking his mug.  

I shot him a playful glare. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Ominis.”  

Sirona chuckled and handed me my drink. “This one’s on the house.”  

“Thank you,” I said, touched by her kindness as we found a quiet corner to sit.


—-

Ominis ordered another round of butterbeer, his posture relaxing as the warmth of the pub softened his usually sharp demeanor.

“You should’ve seen Sebastian back then,” he began, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Always the loudest in the room, dragging Anne into whatever mischief he conjured up.”

I chuckled. “Sounds familiar.”

Ominis nodded. “Anne was the sensible one, though. She’d keep him grounded—sometimes with just a look. But together? Unstoppable. They were always close.”

There was a flicker of sadness in his tone, but it passed quickly. I sipped my butterbeer, hanging onto every word.

“Sebastian would charm every adult in Feldcroft into thinking he was an angel, while Anne secretly fixed all his mistakes.” Ominis laughed lightly. “They were a team, no question about it.”

“It must’ve been nice growing up around that kind of bond,” I said softly.

“It was,” he admitted, a distant look in his unseeing eyes. “They were the family I always wished for.”

“I know about the Gaunts,” I said gently, glancing at Ominis. “My father mentioned them during our lessons.”  

Ominis’s expression didn’t change, but I could sense the tension ripple through him.  

“I didn’t want to pry,” I continued, my tone careful, “but I’ve always thought... you deserve better than them.”  

His lips quirked in a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re not wrong.”  

I hesitated before adding, “I’m glad Anne and Sebastian were there for you.”

Ominis let out a quiet sigh, leaning back in his chair. “They were. They are. It’s... complicated, but I don’t think I’d have gotten through it all without them.”  

I nodded, understanding that he didn’t need sympathy—just someone who could listen and acknowledge. For a moment, we simply sat in companionable silence, the warm hum of the Three Broomsticks wrapping around us.

—-

“How about you?” Ominis asked, leaning slightly forward with a mischievous grin. “Any funny stories about Jace? I might need some blackmail material.”  

I stared down at my butterbeer, tracing the rim of the mug with my finger. “I... I don’t remember.”  

He tilted his head, the teasing tone in his voice fading, replaced with curiosity. “Hm? What do you mean?”  

Ominis had been honest with me about his family and his past. He deserved my honesty too. Taking a deep breath, I started to explain. “The curse of Valancaire,” I began, my voice quieter. “It’s... complicated. It put me into a sleep for seven years. And when I woke up... most of my memories were gone. The Jace I know now feels like a stranger sometimes. There’s just... gaps, pieces missing.”  

He sat back, stunned, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, softly, he said, “Seven years...”  

I nodded, trying to keep my composure. “I’ve been trying to piece things together since I got here, but it’s... hard. Everything feels just out of reach.”  

Ominis was quiet for a moment, as though processing what I’d said. Finally, his voice broke the silence, steady and full of reassurance. “That’s... a lot, Jessa. More than anyone should have to go through. But you’re here now, and you’re trying. That’s what matters. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re stronger than you realize.”  

His words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. But I managed a small smile. “Thank you, Ominis.”  

He nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. “Always.”

—-

We continued to chat, letting the weight of the earlier conversation drift away. Ominis shifted the topic effortlessly, steering us toward lighter, more amusing stories from Hogwarts. Before long, we were laughing over tales of Sebastian’s antics, Natty’s quick wit, and the peculiarities of our professors.  

It felt easy—natural—like the storm of emotions had passed, leaving a calm, enjoyable moment behind. For the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of normalcy, something I hadn’t even realized I’d been missing.  

Ominis raised his mug in a mock toast. “To better days and not getting into any trouble tomorrow.”  

I chuckled, lifting mine in return. “No promises.”