As soon as Bagsy arrived at the library nook, which was a cosy dark colour from the blackness of night outside and the amber of the few torches lighting it, Mezrielda had slammed a newspaper down onto the table.
'What did Tod do?' Bagsy asked worriedly, hurrying over and dropping her bag as she reached the table.
'Not Tod,' Mezrielda grit out.
Bagsy scanned the article. The owner of Hoohsair, the mole-like man who liked to sell items in exchange for ideas, had been found dead in a valley near Hogsmeade village. The Grey Eyed Reaper Returns the paper's title declared brazenly. The man had been found with paled skin, grey and black veins that were hard to the touch and eyes misted over and staring at the sky "as if asking why this had happened to him", the article embellished.
'That's got to be him,' Bagsy let out fearfully. 'He's still here – the breathing blight.'
'My guess is, whoever he is, he's settled here, and intends to stay.'
'He has to be a part of the acting troupe,' Bagsy emphasised. 'It's too much of a coincidence.'
'Actually,' Mezrielda countered, pointing at one sentence of the article. Concerned, Bagsy scanned over it. 'They reckon the man was killed the day the first Vampire Affairs episode was released.'
'But then... how...?'
'He can't be in the acting troupe. They all have alibies.'
Bagsy shook her head. 'No. There's some mistake. Why else would the killings have followed the acting troupe here, to the UK?'
Mezrielda shrugged. 'Who knows.'
Noticing a red fingerprint on the paper, Bagsy tilted her head in interest. 'What's that?'
Quickly, Mezrielda hid her hands behind her back. Bagsy fixed her with a look. Sighing, Mezrielda moved her arms in front of her, turning her palms over. They were blood red. 'More dye-charms.'
Fuming, Bagsy clenched a fist. 'Primrose?'
'No. She's too scared of being kicked off the quidditch team. It was some random Ravenclaws. They thought it was amusing, I imagine.'
Bagsy searched through her bag. 'I think I remember the potion Blythurst told me last time. I'll brew it again for you.'
'It's alright,' said Mezrielda. 'I'm used to it.'
'You shouldn't be!' she burst out in response. 'It's not right!'
'There's nothing I can do about it.'
Bagsy paused, breathing heavily. 'Mezrielda, please, let me try and teach you spells again.'
Her friend's eyes narrowed to slits. 'No. I've already told you – it's a waste of time.'
'Hear me out,' Bagsy continued desperately. 'I cast a spell. I cast the protego charm. Give me a little longer to get it right, and then I promise I can teach it to you.'
That seemed to confuse Mezrielda. 'What does that have to do with it?'
'L-last time I offered you said you didn't think I would be able to teach you spells because I couldn't cast them myself.'
Anger found itself on Mezrielda's face, then. 'I'd never say that! I meant that...' Her voice faded, a look of deep shame spreading on her face. 'I meant that I'd find it difficult to learn from you, because...' She couldn't say it, but Bagsy finally understood.
Mezrielda was humiliated by how little she knew, and how little she could do. She'd gone from being the one who knew all the spells, had all the power, and had done all the protecting, and now it was entirely reversed. Bagsy felt a rush of relief that it had been nothing to do with her own spellcasting ability.
'What if someone else tried to teach you?'
Mezrielda shook her head. 'I don't want that, either. I doubt the identity of the teacher matters when the student simply can't do it.'
'You did it before, why do you think you can't do it again?'
Mezrielda threw her arms angrily into the air. 'Because when I try it doesn't work!'
'If you kept trying, maybe it would!'
'Not everyone is like you, Bagsy,' Mezrielda growled back. 'I don't like the feeling of banging my head against a wall over and over until I break through with a bleeding scalp and a debilitating headache.'
'That's mean.'
Mezrielda took a moment, her nostrils flaring as she breathed out quickly. 'I mean to say, not everyone is as good at–' She paused, looking for the right word. 'Not everyone is as good at trying as you are.'
'Have it your way,' Bagsy relented. 'At least let me brew that potion for you.'
Mezrielda cast her a sideways look, folding her arms and digging her fingers into the fabric of her robes. 'Fine.' Then, with some difficulty, 'Thank you.'
'You're welcome.'
The next week the castle was filled with energy. Not only was winter starting to recede, and warmer days peeking out from behind the rain and snow, but the final weeks of term had many things in store. For one, there were three quidditch matches lined up in succession; Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor that weekend, Hufflepuff versus Slytherin the following, and Slytherin versus Ravenclaw to finish off the term. Only adding to the excitement, the coming weekend was both the visit to Hogsmeade and the date the second episode of Vampire Affairs was to be performed.
Bagsy was reminded of this when, on Tuesday morning, Eldritch perched on her shoulder and handed her a letter. Stroking the teddy-bear like owl and ignoring the adoring coos other students let out at the sight of the fat little fluff ball, she opened the letter. Philip had written to her on behalf of the acting troupe, requesting her presence on Friday evening for the dress rehearsal.
Mezrielda shook her head. 'Still only one rehearsal before a live show? Something is really not right with them.'
'I already agreed to play the part of Rose,' Bagsy reasoned. 'It wouldn't be very nice of me to pull out a week before the second episode.'
'Then you should have pulled out earlier!'
'I forgot,' said Bagsy meekly. It was true. A lot had been going on. 'Plus, if the breathing blight is with the acting troupe, I'll need to do more investigation to figure out which person he is.'
Still shaking her head, Mezrielda went to sip her pumpkin juice. 'All I'll say is they were involved with Perdita who disappeared from both this world and everyone's memories. They're not a safe group to be involved with.'
'I can take care of myself. If they really are dangerous the worst thing I could do would be to piss them off. Quitting right before episode two is a sure-fire way of doing that.'
'Then quit as soon as this episode is done, as you should have done after the first episode.'
Bagsy didn't respond to that.
Mezrielda's words stuck with her like a plague throughout the day. As they worked on their garden in herbology, she couldn't help shaking the idea that she, too, might vanish.
'Hey,' Nevis called from the entrance to their grand plot of plants and foliage. His eyes were wide as he took in the fairy tale appearance of the place. 'It's only, um, some of us were wondering if you'd be willing to help with our gardens?'
Bagsy and Mezrielda exchanged a look.
'Are you certain?' Mezrielda sniffed coldly.
Popping her head around the hedged entrance and joining Nevis, Teresa gaped at the scene in front of her. 'You guys made this?' she asked, astonished. 'Oh, please help us out, you've already got a castle's worth of beauty here.'
Angered by their requests, Mezrielda put down the clippers she'd been using. 'Are you sure you want a blood mouth assisting you?'
Nevis flinched at the word, but as if it were nothing Teresa wafted her hand back and forth. 'No one cares about that! Just come help us. If anyone says anything mean just ignore them.'
With a meaningful look, Nevis lightly jabbed Teresa's side.
Letting out a surprised breath, Teresa said, 'I mean to say that if you feel self-conscious about it that's fine and I won't make fun of you for it.'
Nevis nodded his head. 'And she'll tell anyone who says anything mean to buzz off, won't you, Teresa?'
'Oh, absolutely,' Teresa agreed. 'And punch them in the face for good measure.'
Bagsy looked at Mezrielda. 'Our garden is pretty much complete. If we add anymore I'm worried the ground will cave in from the weight.'
Reluctantly, Mezrielda agreed, and they exited the comfortable confines of their plot. Teresa and Neivs' garden wasn't too bad, but the ones around it looked like barren wastelands. Wattleseed was hurriedly moving from one pair to another, trying his best to advise them on how to get the pota-toes to work properly.
'Let's get started,' Mezrielda said, fetching a notepad and quill. 'Clearly, we need to majorly re-organise this. Your pota-toes have not been positioned correctly. We can't let them see the sun, of course... any ideas, Bagsy?'
Bagsy put a hand to her chin as she thought. 'If we excavate some holes in the ground where we want the pota-toes to move too they may naturally reposition themselves. We'll lose some to light, it'll be impossible to do this without accidentally exposing a few, but the ones that survive will end up far better off and the soil quality will improve. Then, your...' Bagsy paused, gesturing at a very drab plant that was leaning over like an old man. 'Whatever that is, will have a much nicer time of growing.'
Mezrielda quickly sketching out the plot and planned where they'd dig the holes. 'Teresa, Bagsy, you're the diggers. Go and arm yourselves with shovels and trowels. Nevis, you and I are going to supervise where the digging occurs. We'll need to place some string down and separate the area into quadrants, so make sure–' and on Mezrielda went, dishing out instructions.
Before the end of the lesson, the plots on either side of them had asked for help as well, and soon Bagsy and Mezrielda's plot, Teresa and Nevis' and the two plots next to them were all combined in one large square garden. Thankfully, Tod and Hamley's patch was far away. Bagsy got angry just looking at him. She certainly didn't want to help him with his garden.
Instead, two boys from Slytherin, Wren Zouch and Clifford Kine, as well as Maisy and Paloma, joined their ranks.
Wren was stocky and short, so he was tasked with digging holes like Bagsy, whereas Clifford was tall and lean. Thinking, Mezrielda decided to pull Teresa, who was also very tall, from digging, replacing her with both Paloma and Maisy who, combined, managed well enough. Instead of digging, Teresa and Clifford set up the tall perimeter fencing of the plot that the plants would need to climb along. Bagsy just hoped that the scathing looks Wren and Clifford shot Mezrielda would stop.
After their lunch break and a another hour more of work on the area, Mezrielda was nodding confidently.
Bagsy leant down to the soil, taking a sample and inspecting it, as well as pressing her ear to the ground. 'It's a nice texture,' she murmured as she crawled along, listening closely. 'I can hear the pota-toes tapping happily. I think we've done it.'
Mezrielda, meanwhile, seemed overjoyed with how neatly spaced the garden was. 'All that's left is to decide what we want to plant here, and where.' She handed her notebook around, instructing each student to write down a few ideas. 'I'll look them over,' Mezrielda explained. 'With Bagsy's expertise we'll figure out what plants will work best together. Next lesson we can start planting them.'
'Thanks a bunch,' Wren said, smiling a smile of crooked teeth, but directing it at Bagsy as if Mezrielda weren't there. 'You're always helping people out, you are,' he added. 'You stopped me from falling off my broom once during a quidditch match even though I was on the other team, remember?'
Bagsy said, 'I just did what anyone else would have.'
Looking uncertainly in Primrose's direction, Wren laughed. 'I'm not sure that's true.'
After a hard day's work on the gardens, Bagsy slept through her free period to the comforting scratchings of Mezrielda's quill on paper. She was thinking through the plotting of the garden, as she'd promised she would.
Bagsy hadn't recovered much energy when the time for Thaumathletics arrived, which was why she was so dismayed to hear that Kim was finally moving them onto treadmilling.
Proudly, Kim gestured back at the Thaumathletics track, whose ground was moving. Like a treadmill, the grass and soil rolled towards them, then disappeared into the ground where it travelled back through the ground. As it moved, different obstacles of trenches, walls, thorny thickets, colour-changing tunnels and strange looking creatures that barked and hissed appeared before vanishing into the ground.
'Treadmilling!' Professor Kim announced enthusiastically, sounding equal parts nervous and exhilarated. 'It's one of the favourite events in the Auglympics. It's a real crowd pleaser and super fun to take part in yourself. The idea is to stay on this treadmill thing, what we call the obstacle rush, for as long as possible. The longer the event goes on the faster it moves and the more difficult the obstacles become. So, who's ready to give it a go? Last one standing gets a box of jumping jelly beans!'
Eagerly, the students lined up at the start of the obstacle rush. Paloma and Maisy whispered excitedly to each other, gesturing wildly as they tried to plan a way through what was appearing ahead of them.
Killian smirked at Fiona. 'If you think about it, it's like–'
'A metaphor for life. Yeah, yeah.' Fiona waved him off with a laugh. 'Do you talk about anything but metaphors?'
'Sometimes I go for analogies or symbolism,' he offered, to another laugh from Fiona, but a grimace from Bagsy, who was now thinking about Starrett and her teaching.
Kim waved her arm, calling for them to begin while turning an hourglass over, and the students jumped onto the obstacle rush.
Itsuki was the first to stumble, his hair tangling in a thicket of thorns he was trying to use his prehensile locks to get over. Jon wasn't fair behind, pausing to laugh at Itsuki and finding himself catapulted off the obstacle rush by a hidden square that sprung up from a tightly coiled spring.
Bagsy tried to move as fast as she could, but the more thaumaturgy she forced into her legs the less precise her movements were and, as the speed increased, she found herself unable to control her body.
With a painful thud, lessened by the myriad of pads they wore for thaumathletics and the goggles protecting their eyes, Bagsy ran head first into a wall. Terrifyingly, she was pushed into the gap at the end of the obstacle rush and into darkness. For a split second, her mind was violently thrown back to two years ago, when she'd leapt into that beast's mouth, and had only felt darkness and blood and fire around her.
Then, with a comical 'yuck!', Bagsy was spat onto the grass to the side of the obstacle rush.
'Nice try,' Itsuki said, holding a hand down to her.
Bagsy took it, letting him help her to her feet while she dusted grass and brick dust off herself. 'That hurt.'
Itsuki nodded, running his hands gingerly through his complaining hair. 'Tell me about it.'
As the speed of the obstacle rush increased it became clear who was good at thaumathletics and who wasn't. Maisy, with her lit up silver strands in her hair as her thaumaturgy activated, found herself unable to run fast enough and fell off fairly early.
Paloma wasn't far behind, the flowers that grew behind where she stepped as a quirk of her thaumaturgy weren't useful for weaving past obstacles.
Hamley, who had magnetized feet, found himself stuck to a metal plate and pulled off the treadmill by its force. Bagsy took some satisfaction in watching him fail. He may not have written the article, but he clearly helped Tod with his paper, and so was responsible for what had been written about Mezrielda. Tod didn't take thaumathletics, so Bagsy didn't get to see him fail, sadly.
Killian and Fiona, unsurprisingly, lasted far longer than anyone else. They confidently breezed over hurdles, swung from one floating monkey bar to the next, vaulted canyons and skirted around small mammals trying to nip at their heels. In fact, they were able to run so fast that the lesson was drawing to a close when Fiona tripped on a vine and was pushed off the obstacle rush. Sweating profusely, Fiona lay grimacing on her back as she recovered from her running.
'Are you alright?' Bagsy asked.
Fiona nodded grimly and propped herself up on her elbows to glare jealously after Killian, who hadn't even noticed she'd fallen off and was still clearing the course with ease.
'Congratulations, Killian!' Kim called, slowing the obstacle rush to a stop and checking the hourglass. 'My, my, you lasted an entire hour! You've definitely earned these.'
Accepting the jumping jelly beans, Killian hopped off the treadmill, not even remotely out of breath. 'Thank you!' He walked with a spring in his step to Fiona, who was back on her feet now.
'Well done,' Fiona forced out, looking downtrodden.
'It's a metaphor,' Killian responded with a taunting wink. 'I'm going to leave you in the dust!'
Fiona looked heartbroken at that, but Killian was too busy reading the packet of beans to notice.
'Yeah,' Fiona murmured. 'You sure are.'
Bagsy was lamenting on how down Fiona had seemed when she realised, with a start, that she'd managed to forget all about her worries with working with the acting troupe. Of course, now she'd realised that she'd forgotten about her worries, she began worrying all over again.
Her worries kept mounting and mounting until, on Friday evening as a cold sun shone down onto the Hogwarts grounds, Bagsy pulled a cloak around herself as she walked to the acting troupe's red tent.
Mezrielda said comfortingly, 'Remember, I'll be in the clearing with the tall stones. If something goes wrong you run out of the tent and straight to me.'
'Right.' Bagsy sucked in a breath and tried to calm herself. 'Right.'