Griffin and Bontie took Bagsy to platform nine and three-quarters when it was time for the Easter term to begin.
Griffin pushed the trolley with the luggage, and Bontie held Bagsy's hand, who was feeling considerably more hopeful about her home life. It was like having real parents, in a way, even if Bagsy felt guilty for thinking that.
They'd arrived with a few moments to spare, so Griffin took Bagsy's things onto the train and unpacked them into one of the compartments.
While he was away from them, Bontie turned seriously to Bagsy. 'In your letters you mentioned you and Tod went to Mezrielda's,' she began, her voice low, and Bagsy sensed she'd done something wrong. 'Bagsy, are you still hanging around that kid?'
Bagsy nodded. 'Yeah, he's alright.'
Bontie pursed her lips. 'Do you remember me telling you to stay away from him last year? Do you remember me curing you of your memory loss?' Bagsy nodded. Bontie looked puzzled. 'Are you sure?' Bagsy nodded again. 'If you remember, if he hasn't taken those memories from you, then why are you still hanging around with him, when I specifically told you not to?'
'He seems nice,' Bagsy offered.
'He seems nice,' Bontie repeated, reminding Bagsy distinctly of Mezrielda. With a subtle flick Bagsy barely caught, Bontie cast a muffling spell on their conversation. Even so, Bontie lowered her voice to a whisper. 'Bagsy, he's a silver tongue, you need to do as I say and stay away from him.'
'He won't use his powers on me. I trust him, Rebontil,' Bagsy retorted hotly. 'Besides, I don't hang out with him often, just every now and then.'
Bontie shook Bagsy. 'That's all it takes! One conversation, Bagsy. He's dangerous.'
'Tod wouldn't take advantage of me like that.'
'You have no way of knowing that. You have no defences against it either. If he wants you to forget everything he could just do it,' she snapped her fingers, 'and you'd have no clue what had happened. I don't want to see that happening to you, Bagsy. Listen to reason and stay away from him!'
Bagsy narrowed her eyes and looked at the floor. 'You're not my mum,' she grumbled.
Bontie let go of Bagsy sharply.
'All packed,' Griffin announced, stepping off the train. 'Everything okay?'
'Yes, everything's fine,' Bontie said, pulling her robes neatly around herself. 'Bagsy, you're my sister, and I love you dearly.' She placed a hand on Bagsy's hair and ruffled it. 'Please be safe and write to let me know how you're doing, and please, do as I say.'
'Sure,' Bagsy muttered uncertainly. Bontie gave her a quick hug and then ushered her onto the train, which was preparing to leave.
Mezrielda was already settling herself opposite Bagsy's things.
'How did you-?'
'The rats were a give-away,' Mezrielda explained, pointing at the travel cage Bill and Jill were inside.
As the train set off Bagsy waved at her sister. They'd had a spat, but she was still her family, and the smile Bontie gave her, and enthusiastic beam Griffin added, were an uplifting sight.
As they journeyed to Hogwarts, Bagsy caught Mezrielda up on the mysterious message the muggle-boy had given her.
'So, basically, he told you nothing you didn't already know,' Mezrielda concluded.
'He did give me a torch,' Bagsy said. Besides practising with Griffin or spending hours each day with her mag-net bat and ball, or modifying her Fleet Footed Fox, she had spent the remainder of her holidays taking the torch apart and putting it back together. The muggle technology made her look at magic differently and she had been sparking with new ideas for how to modify brooms and create inventions.
'What's a torch going to do?' Mezrielda scoffed, then, 'actually, wait, what does a torch do?'
Bagsy took it out and turned it on and off. 'It looked better in the dark,' she murmured in disappointment. 'It's like a lumos spell but without a wand.'
'That's pretty useful for you, then, I suppose,' Mezrielda admitted. Bagsy nodded happily. Gone were the days of fumbling to light a candle in the dark.
The trolley lady gave Mezrielda her pumpkin juice, which Bagsy dimly noticed was the cheapest item you could buy, and Bagsy her peanuts and Ghost Floss. Before she left, however, the old woman handed Mezrielda a piece of paper from Professor Fitzsimmons. Mezrielda read it as the lady pushed the trolley onwards and out of view.
Her face fell. 'My detention is buffing the trophies in the hall,' Mezrielda groaned. 'With constant supervision.'
Bagsy smiled sympathetically at her. 'At least it's not for the whole term again, right?' Mezrielda turned the paper so she could read it. 'The whole year!?' Bagsy gasped.
Mezrielda tore the paper up, shoved open a window and chucked the pieces out. 'This is so unfair,' she hissed, folding her arms and flipping her hair over her shoulder. 'Trophies don't need to be cleaned year-round, anyway. What utter nonsense, what profound rubbish. Never before has such a pile of steaming buffoonery befallen me.'
Bagsy held back her laugh, knowing Mezrielda wouldn't appreciate it.
By the time Tuesday rolled around, and they had their first personal study of the term, Mezrielda wasn't in any better of a mood.
'We can't even go to the Eagle club,' Mezrielda grumbled, glancing ruefully at Mistress Foncée who was knitting and reading at the same time, the book hovering before her eyes that peered through spectacles at them. Bagsy looked at Mistress Foncée and back to Mezrielda, then stood up and walked purposefully towards Foncée. 'Bagsy, wait, what are you-'
'Mistress Foncée?' Bagsy interrupted Foncée's reading as politely as she could.
Foncée, pulling off her spectacles and laying her knitting down, looked at her kindly. 'Yes?'
'Mezrielda and I want to go to the Eagle Club during our personal studies,' Bagsy said honestly, hearing the thud of Mezrielda's head hitting the table behind her, followed by a groan.
'Dammit, Bagsy...'
Bagsy ignored her. 'It's a secret student club where we practise duelling. I don't think it's against the rules, but it would be odd if Mezrielda and I disappeared to it without explaining what we were doing to you first.'
Mezrielda had rushed over by now. 'Mistress Foncée, forgive Bagsy, she ate something bad at lunch, she doesn't know what she's-'
Mistress Foncée held up a hand, silencing an angry looking Mezrielda. 'I was a rule breaker in my youth. A rebel, or revolutionary, if you will. I am deeply familiar with pushing back against what those in authority ask,' Foncée said with amusement, 'and, in case you'd forgotten, I'm not a teacher. I'm a cleaner. Show me to this club – perhaps I can supervise and assist with any injuries.' Foncée got to her feet, her knitting and the book disappearing. 'Children will always break the rules. It's better to make sure they break them safely – in the presence of a responsible adult.'
Bagsy beamed at Foncée, then turned her smile to an absolutely stunned Mezrielda.
'Well, then?' Foncée encouraged them both. 'Show me to this Eagle Club.'
Mezrielda and Bagsy led Mistress Foncée out of the library and in the direction of the tapestry that hid the room the Eagle Club was hosted in. As they were walking down some moving stairs, Foncée laid a hand on Bagsy's shoulder. 'You may call me Cora,' she said.
Bagsy looked up at her with wide eyes. 'E-excuse me?'
'Cora is my first name. Seeing as I'm not a teacher I don't see why either of you should call me Mistress Foncée.'
'Okay, Cora,' Bagsy said, smiling up at her.
'Mezrielda?' Cora asked politely. Mezrielda grunted her acknowledgement. 'May I take a look at that book of yours? The book of the beasts?' Mezrielda stopped in her tracks. 'I'm a little curious, is all. I've seen you both reading it a lot.'
Mezrielda looked on the cusp of telling Cora she could shove off when Bagsy reached into her friend's bag, avoiding the copious amounts of shiny objects, to pull the book out. Mezrielda scowled at her.
'Here you go,' Bagsy said, handing the book to Cora. She read it with interest as they walked along, before handing it back to Mezrielda, who snatched it selfishly.
'Thank you,' Cora smiled gently. 'I was curious what you two were always whispering about. It's an interesting book, you have there.'
Mezrielda muttered something non-committal and pulled the tapestry to the Eagle Club aside, stepping through, not bothering to hold it out of the way for Bagsy and Cora.
After the dark corridor widened out, Bagsy saw the familiar large, circular room. The Ravenclaws, who looked mid-duel, stopped suddenly and turned with fear to look at the adult now amongst them.
Cora raised her hands calmingly. 'I am a cleaner, not a teacher,' she announced. 'I'm not going to report you – just watch. I'm here to help with difficult spells and injuries. Besides that, act as if I am not here.' With that, Cora glided to the side of the room and sat down on the outcropping seat that circled the space, gracefully crossing one leg over the other.
The Ravenclaws stared in silent uncertainty before Winifred stepped forward.
'You heard the woman, get back to it!' Winifred called as spells shot around the room and students ducked or countered them. Bagsy hid behind Mezrielda, who blocked the odd rouge spell that headed their way.
Once the duels that were in process finished, and Cora had quickly vanished the side-effects, Winifred turned to Mezrielda and Bagsy. 'I thiiink...' Winifred drawled, smirking at the surrounding Ravenclaws, 'it's time we show our newly returned members how we train...' Winifred handed her wand to Robin, who stepped to the side of the room. 'Corby, Dale.' Winifred snapped her fingers and two boys, one Bagsy thought was a third year, the other a fourth, stepped forward and pointed their wands at Winifred. Bagsy stiffened, wondering what they meant to do. 'In case you were wondering what my job here is,' Winifred called out dramatically to them, throwing her arms wide. 'I'm the test dummy. Corby, Dale, unleash your worst!'
Bagsy, without meaning to, had gripped fearfully onto Mezrielda's robes, peeking out from behind her.
Dale and Corby drew their wands back before shooting volleys of spells at Winifred.
Winifred was thrown to the floor, then the ceiling, then deep cuts appeared on her arms and legs. Her face was scarred over with boiling water and her legs tangled around each other with the sickening snap of bones. Bagsy's stomach lurched at the sight and she gripped Mezrielda's arm in fear. Cora rose from her seat, eyes wide and jaw slack.
Dale and Corby stopped their assault. Winifred lay still on the floor.
Bagsy let out a gasp before she felt sobs crawling up her throat. Winifred looked dead.
Then, astonishingly, Winifred's body burst into flames. The bald girl shot to her feet, hopping up and down and screaming as fire rolled off her body like ocean waves. Bagsy could feel the heat from where she was.
'Someone put her out!' Bagsy cried hysterically. Mezrielda was raising her wand to do just that when Robin, Winifred's younger sister, pushed Mezrielda's wand down and shook her head.
It took Bagsy a second, but she realised Winifred's screams were fake. Winifred, hopping around on one foot now saying 'ow, ow, ow,' in a joking voice, didn't look in pain at all. In fact, through the flames Bagsy could see the injuries she'd sustained disappearing – burning away under the fire.
Eventually, the flames died away, the last remnants flickering in Winifred's hands vanished as she clapped them together, rubbing the palms against each other as if scheming. Wisps of smoke trailed out from between her fingers.
Winifred stood before them, a wicked grin on her face, completely fine.
'It's called the phoenix effect,' Robin explained, handing a grateful Winifred her wand back. 'If ever we get hurt, even a small pin prick...'
'Boom! Fire!' Winifred finished for her sister.
'Not always boom,' Robin corrected her. 'If the injury is small the fire is so tiny and quick you'd only notice it if you were looking closely.'
'Either way, we end up healed and good as new. Makes us great target practise for dangerous spells, especially because pain doesn't affect us like it does others.' Winifred threw her arm over Robin's shoulder, leaning on her. 'Sadly, it burns our hair off, but at least we have fire proof robes.'
'It'd be awkward if they weren't,' Robin added.
Winifred nodded, humming her agreement. 'Sure would.'
Mezrielda said, 'So that's why you're bald, not because you shave your head but because of fire?'
'Suuuure,' Winifred nodded. 'You could say that but, to be honest with you, I like being bald. Used to it, you know? Anyway, Mezrielda. I wanna see what dangerous spells you've got hidden up your sleeve. So, go on. Hit me with your absolute worst. See if I can take it.'
'One second,' Mezrielda said. 'Bagsy?'
'Yeah?' Bagsy was confused what Mezrielda wanted.
'You can let go of me, now.'
A spattering of chuckles met Bagsy as she sheepishly released her friend.
Mezrielda looked at Winifred. 'I'm not going to hurt you.'
'Why not? I'll be fine. Weren't you watching?'
'I don't care if you'll be fine,' Mezrielda hissed, 'it's not something I want to do. I want to improve my duelling, not my lethality.'
Winifred shrugged. 'Fair enough. Bagsy, what about you?'
'Me!?' squeaked Bagsy.
'Yeah, you. Show me what you got. I doubt anything you can cast will hurt me, aaaand...' Winifred shrugged. She smiled at Bagsy. 'I can tell you want to learn spells, so I want to help you gain that knowledge.'
Bagsy shot a questioning look at Mezrielda.
'This club is all about practising,' Mezrielda said in a low voice, 'may as well try.'
Bagsy nodded nervously, pulling her wand out of her robes and pointing it at Winifred.
'Go on,' Winifred coaxed earnestly.
Bagsy's mind raced, thinking of the easiest duelling spell she knew. 'Locomotor mortis!' she cried, trying her best to perfect the wand movement and pronounce the spell correctly. Of course, nothing happened. Bagsy sagged.
'No worries, no worries.' Winifred waved her hands dismissively, clearly having expected this. 'We all knew you sucked already. No shame in it, that's why you're here, to learn how to not suck.' Bagsy hung her head even lower. Mezrielda patted her awkwardly on the back in sympathy.
The rest of the Eagle Club was spent practising duelling. Mezrielda and Winifred paired together – they seemed to be the only two in the club good enough to face each other and survive. Their skills were leaps and bounds above anyone else's.
Bagsy was paired with a first year Ravenclaw boy with fair hair, pale skin, blue eyes and a horde of freckles. He was short, lithe and skinny, and definitely looked like a first year from the way his eyes nervously darted around.
'This is Howe,' Robin introduced him before leaving them to it. Howe and Bagsy spent the club trying to shoot spells at each other and failing. Howe managed a few glimmers of colour here and there, whilst Bagsy's hornbeam wand remained entirely quiet. She pushed the familiar feeling of frustration down, determined to keep practising for however many hours, months or years it would take to cast spells like everyone else.
By the time they ended Howe walked over to her and smiled. 'Don't worry, when we're second years I'm sure we'll have learnt loads of spells,' he said encouragingly.
Bagsy smiled weakly, looking at the floor. 'Sure,' she managed, not having the heart to tell him that she was already a second year.
When the Eagle Club finished Bagsy and Mezrielda, followed by Cora, headed back to the Hufflepuff dorm. Bagsy overheard Winifred placing bets with a handful of other Ravenclaws as the group dispersed.
'Two chocolate frogs Kim and Wattleseed marry by the end of the year!' Winifred called after one of her friends. Then, to another, 'One practical practise book on flying that Arice gets kicked out of potions. Yeah? Great. Shake on it.'
Once they were in the Hogwarts basements Cora waved them goodnight as Bagsy crouched next to the correct barrel to tap out the secret Hufflepuff rhythm.
Mezrielda hovered, waiting for Cora to disappear around the corner. 'Bagsy,' she whispered, 'we need to talk.'
'What is it?' Bagsy asked, about to crawl into the dormitory.
Mezrielda glanced where Cora had disappeared around the corner. 'I don't trust Mistress Foncée.'
'What? You mean Cora?' Bagsy frowned. 'Why not? She's been nothing but kind to us.'
'Precisely. She's being too nice, Bagsy. She wears a cape made of feathers, her surname means "dark" in French and the previous cleaner, Horba, went missing without a word to anyone,' Mezrielda explained seriously. 'Additionally, she looks like a crow with that dark hair and those piercing eyes, and what has been harassing us and the worms, the ones trying to warn you about danger, all year? That's right. Crows. And what were the worms telling us not to trust? Something beginning with an M. What does Mistress Foncée begin with, again? Hmm.... I wonder....'
'Okay, Mezrielda, I get your point,' Bagsy huffed, straightening up and crossing her arms.
'She's a dark witch, Bagsy!' Mezrielda threw her arms out for emphasis.
'Following your logic, so are you,' Bagsy snapped back harshly. Mezrielda froze, her eyes uncertain. 'You have the same kind of... dark... crow-like vibe you claim Cora has. Plus, who was in the stands when Emmeline's flight modulators disappeared? You. Who was hunched over Teresa's worm farm when it was destroyed? You. Who had the stolen kitchen cutlery in their trunk? You. Whose name also starts with an M? Yours.'
Mezrielda looked hurt. 'You said you trusted me...'
'I do!' Bagsy assured her in mild frustration. 'That's exactly my point, Mezrielda. Looks can be deceiving. I trust how a person treats me, not what their name starts with or what it means in French, not how they look, not if they appear a little bit like a certain kind of animal. For crying out loud, Mezrielda, she's had two opportunities to get us kicked out and she hasn't. We can trust her.'
Mezrielda stood very silently, her eyes fixed on Bagsy. At last, she huffed. 'I still don't trust her but... you might have a semblance of a point.' Bagsy startled, raising her eyebrows in surprise. 'It doesn't happen often, don't get used to it,' Mezrielda added. Bagsy rolled her eyes and elbowed Mezrielda in the ribs. 'Hey!' Mezrielda protested, hunching over and taking a step back to protect herself as a laugh escaped her.
'Night, Mezrielda,' Bagsy laughed, noting her friend was ticklish, before crawling through the barrel passageway.
'Night, Bagsy,' Mezrielda called after her, sounding her usual sulky-annoyed self.