The final week of term was nearing its close. Wren and Clifford had seemed less keen on Mezrielda at first as they, Bagsy, Mezrielda, Nevis and Teresa all worked on their gardens in herbology. Clearly, the episodes of Vampire Affairs hadn't helped their opinions of her.
Once big flowers, kindly trees, chocolate-growing shrubs and beautiful weeping weeds began to sprout on their plots, though, they seemed to forget their ill will towards the rumoured vampire. Wren and Clifford even went so far as to awkwardly apologise to Mezrielda at the end of one lesson.
Wren said, 'I just assumed you weren't nice because of what everyone else was saying, and all the news articles and, well, everything that I've heard about vampires. It... wasn't nice of me to do that.'
Clifford said, 'Me either. We're both sorry.'
Mezrielda looked at them before giving a graceful dip of her head. 'I'm just glad you've come to see reason,' she said in a clipped tone.
'How could we not?' Wren said, gesturing at the beautiful shared garden they'd made. 'You've been so helpful!'
Mezrielda tsked. 'I shouldn't have had to be helpful for you to see reason,' she muttered under her breath.
Wattleseed, having walked over, looked impressed at the shared space. 'Fantastic work! Simply brilliant! I especially love the team work that's gone into this garden. If only the other students had taken inspiration from you.' He gave concerned glance at the other plots of land that reminded Bagsy of deserts and dust. 'Keep this up and you'll all get excellent marks for sure.'
Potion lessons were more subdued now, and less of a source of joy than they had been before, given they were a weekly reminder that Professor Blythurst had passed, and that Bagsy had played a hand in his end.
Professor Stery was a great, if incredibly strict, teacher, but something felt off in the classroom when there wasn't a grumpy, quiet man sitting in the corner, drifting off with snores that were somehow as uneven as his appearance.
At least she had improved enough in Thaumathletics to last a minute on the obstacle rush before being hurtled off it, Bagsy consoled herself, though Fiona was growing more annoyed at being constantly out done by her childhood friend, Killian.
Soon it was the final Friday of term. Bagsy handed her work in for the Astrology lesson she had last thing on that day realising that, beside the revision lessons they'd have after the holiday, she'd finished her class work for most of the year. At least, she'd finished her classwork for her standard lessons.
Starrett's were another matter.
Despite the fact that she'd need to revise with vigour for the exams this year in the slight hope she could dodge expulsion one more time, Starrett had insisted their lessons continue.
Bagsy had found that, the more she worked on her spells with Starrett, the weaker they were becoming. As she approached the Charms classroom that evening, her main concern was that, after a certain point, she wouldn't be able to cast spells again. Sure, she could cast alohomora at the moment, and she and Professor Starret were currently focussed on getting her to be able to cast the protego charm consistently, but what if, after she'd used all the magic reserve she'd stocked up behind that magic dam within her, there was nothing left? The thought was terrifying.
Perhaps that was why she'd spent so long working on the magic insulation. She'd always have her inventions. Maybe, even if she stopped being able to cast spells, Professor Starrett wouldn't mind, because she'd have her inventions to do good work with. At least Bagsy hoped she wouldn't mind. Would she?
Bagsy stopped in her tracks as she was about to push open the Charms classroom door.
Since when did she care what Starrett would and wouldn't mind? Mildly horrified, Bagsy realised that she would feel crushed if Starrett became disappointed in her.
This new development was concerning, especially given how ruthless Starrett had been to her in the past. Bagsy had no doubt in her mind she would, if not this lesson then the next, let Starrett down. Swallowing a lump of dread and hoping to merlin this concern for living up to Starrett's expectations would go away, she pushed the door open.
'It's a miracle,' Starrett said flatly. 'You're on time.'
'Are we practising spells today? Or Artifisiary?'
During the last few weeks, Starrett had swapped between working towards Bagsy being able to cast the protego charm and teaching her how to use her inventions, observations, and reactions to complete difficult tasks.
Slowly, those lessons had grown more and more fun. They changed from being pelted by golden paint or bowled over by a yapping bench, to Bagsy darting around like a rabbit, dodging jets of light and chairs trying to trip her. All the while she would frantically combine ingredients to make a brew with such a potent stench it would make the chairs faint, or tie a cloth drenched in flammable potion around her mag-net ball so that she could hit a flaming object at the floor boards that rose up like a horde of zombies to overcome her.
Most times she'd ended up losing, but she was beginning to understand how to best handle an opponent. Observe, utilise what you had to respond, and think about how your enemy would counter your attacks.
It was with a little disappointment, then, that Bagsy saw Starrett produce her wand.
'We're practising spells today.'
Bagsy said, 'It's only, I invented something and was wondering if I could show it to you.'
'Later,' Starrett snapped. 'Now pay attention.'
It wasn't nice thoughts that went through Bagsy's head. She'd hoped to spend the lesson showing the uses of her new invention. If muggle things can be insulated from magic, it would open a lot of opportunities to use non-magical offensive and defensive tactics. Instead, she was going to try casting the protego charm more and, as had been with the previous lessons, be able to do nothing while her magic drained away from her like a dying hose pipe.
She doubted she'd get to show Starrett her new invention – whenever Himble, Florentchia, or any adult told her later what they'd really meant was never.
Starrett didn't seem to notice her apprehension or, if she did, she chose to ignore it. 'Remember, it's a precise, swift motion and a confident push of magic, focussing on guiding the power from your heart to your wand. Now, begin running.'
Bagsy set off, running up and down the steps of the tiered benches of the Charms classroom.
'Stop,' Starrett instructed after a few runs. 'Now block.' Starrett cast a jet of red light at Bagsy,
'Protego!' A pitiful spark of blue spluttering at the tip of her wand. The red light hit her on the shoulder and she took a staggered step back.
Bagsy set off running again, repeating the exercise over and over.
After too many tries to count, Bagsy tried casting the charm again, only to find nothing at all happen in response. She didn't feel even a twitch of magic moving within her. When Starrett asked her to run again, Bagsy found she couldn't.
'I gave you an order,' Starrett said, but Bagsy was too busy looking, watery eyed, at her walnut wand.
Was that it? Was her magic gone, again? She'd been foolish to hope this could have worked, to hope that she would be able to cast spells.
She pointed her wand at one of the locked drawers in Starrett's desk. 'Alohomora!' she cast.
Starrett turning to look at the drawer in confusion.
Nothing happened.
Bagsy's face scrunched up as tears broke free from her eyes and tracked down her cheeks. Both embarrassed for crying, and horrified that her magic seemed gone for good, she put her face in her hands and lowered herself to the ground where she sat crossed-legged. Everything felt so futile.
She heard the click-clack of Starrett's heels as she walked over to her. Bagsy felt a cushion appear below her, making her sitting position more comfortable, before Starrett summoned a stool for herself and sat down, crossing one leg over the other.
'I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong,' Starrett said.
Bagsy looked up slowly, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
'Don't do that,' Starrett chastised, pulling a handkerchief from her oversized robe, and holding it out to her. Bagsy hesitantly took it, dabbing her eyes before blowing her nose. 'Keep it,' Starrett added with a hint of disgust.
There was a knock on the classroom door and a creak as someone pushed it open. 'Professor Starrett?' said Professor Stery. 'I looked over the lesson plans you asked me to. I think my edits will help it work even better than the last ones for a do–' He cut off abruptly when he saw Bagsy hunched over on the floor, softly sobbing.
Bagsy, rubbing her eyes, looked back at Stery then turned to Starrett. 'We can end the lesson here if you want,' she said miserably. 'If you need to do something.'
Starrett arched an eyebrow before directing her attention at Stery. 'I'm in the middle of something important,' she said. 'We'll discuss the plans later.'
'Of course.' Stery dipped his head, shutting the door again.
Bagsy considered Starrett, wiping her nose with the handkerchief again.
'As I said, Beetlehorn,' Starrett intoned matter-of-factly. 'I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong.'
'It doesn't matter.'
'You're crying in the middle of our lesson. Clearly, it matters a great deal.'
There was a long pause. Bagsy wasn't sure if she wanted to tell Starrett, and she was fairly certain Starrett didn't really want to listen. The only adults who'd ever cared to listen to her problems had either been planning on killing her, in Cora's case, or were lying the entire time, in Bontie's. At least both Cora and Bontie had seemed to like Bagsy somewhat. Starrett was constantly annoyed with her.
'Bagsy,' Starrett prompted gently.
Without realising it, Bagsy's thoughts tumbled out of her. 'I'm worried I don't have any more magic. The more I've been casting spells in our lessons the weaker they've grown. Now, I can't make anything happen, no matter how much I run or how hard I try.'
'Dear, dear,' Starrett tutted. 'That's quite the pickle to be in.'
It took Bagsy a second to realise Starrett wasn't be sarcastic. 'Y-yeah... it is.'
'Your crying makes some sense now. I'll tell you this, then; there was a magic reserve within you that was bursting at the seams. Slowly, you whittled it down to nothing. Right now, that magic reserve within you is low. The dam, as we spoke about, has barely any water behind it.'
Trying not to break out into sobs again, Bagsy fiddled with the hem of her robes.
'The thing about a dam is they're built at the end of a body of water. You may have emptied that reserve, but with each failed spell-cast you build it up again. Your spell-casting will require a skill and awareness it doesn't for anyone else. Not only must you cast the spells perfectly and exercise before hand, but you must also have an awareness of what magic you have built up within you to call upon.'
'So... I'll be able to cast spells again?'
'Yes. It'll be harder than it is for anyone else, but I've seen the stubbornness with which you approach a challenge. You'll be fine.'
'Why, though?' Bagsy whined. 'Why can't I just cast spells like everyone else?'
'Some students simply aren't as good at spells as others,' Starrett answered, looking mournful. 'A dear friend of mine, a very wise man, told me that.'
'Do you mean Professor Blythurst?'
Starrett nodded, swallowing before drawing in a shaky breath. 'Yes. I do.'
'I'm sorry about what happened.'
There was a pained pause, where Starrett looked as though someone had sucked all of the air out of her. 'I appreciate your concern, but Blythurst would want us to stay focussed on the lesson.' Just like that, she was back on topic. 'Your body needs to be tired out to cast spells. I've been trying to get it through your skull that you need to imagine that fragile bubble within you and guide it down your arm to your wand. Doing so simply isn't possible when your muscles, and your body, aren't warmed up enough.'
It sounded like a bunch of nonsense to Bagsy. How could being tired make spell-casting easier? Either way, she accepted Starrett's answer and, nodding sullenly, moved to stand up.
'Hold on,' Starret said, placing a hand on Bagsy's shoulder and keeping her sitting. 'You still have to show me what you invented.'
Bagsy startled. 'You really want to see it?'
Starrett crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. 'I'll change my mind if you make this difficult.'
'Sure, sure!' Bagsy fumbled with her robe pockets to fish out the fabric. Quickly, and with a breathless excitement, she went over the material she'd made that could wrap around the torch and insulate it from magic in the atmosphere. 'I based it off of my spell-sponge gloves,' she explained, pulling one of the gloves out and waving it in the air. 'It needed some modifications, but it wasn't that difficult to re-purpose it.'
Starrett was listening pensively, a hand resting on her chin. 'At least you didn't make another exploding wand-training wheel.'
Bagsy winced. She'd spent the summer before this school year making a handful of wand-training wheels, and every single one had exploded on her. Starrett didn't need to know that, though.
Starrett indicated the spell-sponge gloves. 'Tell me about those.'
'Don't you need to speak with Professor Stery?' Bagsy checked.
'I can spare some time to hear about your inventions, given you use them against me in our lessons, knowledge of them will improve my teaching of Artifisiary to you.'
That made sense. Bagsy couldn't imagine anyone wanting to listen to her drone on about her inventions without good reason. Except for perhaps Mezrielda, but that was different, she was her best friend.
Bagsy dived into an explanation of the gloves and how she developed them to stick to walls and ceilings and allow her to crawl along them. She paused, having just finished explaining how useful this was for sneaking around the castle, when it occurred to her that Starrett was a professor.
With a sigh, Starrett glanced at a sun-dial watch on her wrist. 'Technically the school term ended a few hours ago. I'm no longer on duty. I'll let it slide this once, but if I catch you sneaking about after dark I'll expel you.'
Bagsy gulped. 'You will?'
Something reluctantly stretched across the wrinkles on Starrett's face. 'I'll certainly consider it. Keep talking. I've seen those gloves stop even the best of my spells. I'd like to understand how they manage that.'
Pushing the mild threat of expulsion from her head, Bagsy continued.
Starrett would ask the occasional question, or prompt Bagsy to rethink a specific design choice. Nerves were beginning to build within Bagsy. Somewhere in the back of her head, a voice was warning her. What if Starrett wanted to hurt her, and was one day going to use this information against her?
Bagsy's description of the gloves slowed to a halt.
'Why just gloves?' Starrett asked.
Bagsy considered that. It was a fair question. Why just gloves? She shrugged and left it there, feeling a tad uncertain about how much she'd shared with Starrett.
The conversation seemingly finished, Bagsy packed away her things and left Starrett so she could speak to Stery about whatever it was she needed to.
She was walking down the corridor when Starrett called after her.
'Beetlehorn.'
Bagsy looked back. 'Yes, Professor?'
'Those are well thought out inventions you made,' Starrett said with a pained expression, like she wanted nothing more than to give her a thousand detentions instead of praise.
'Thank you.' A happy feeling formed in her chest, the paranoid voice in the back of her head silencing.
Maybe she hadn't cast spells that lesson, but at least she'd got to talk about her inventions, and at least Starrett hadn't hated them. All in all, she thought it was a rather good result.
The Easter holidays were upon them and Bagsy threw herself into her revision with vigour. Mezrielda, however, was experiencing a growing panic as the exams approached, yet she still couldn't bring herself to practise her studies.
'It won't matter,' Mezrielda said stubbornly. 'Revision or not, I know I'll fail these, and then...' Her face was pale. 'I've got to think of something...'
There was a cawing outside the window.
'Oh, do shut up!' Mezrielda barked at the nearby cluster of crows. Bagsy heard a fluttering of wings as the startled birds took off.
'Maybe I can help you?'
'I already told you. There's no point.'
Bagsy consoled herself that, whilst Mezrielda was having trouble preparing, at least with all the other students swamped with work they'd given the pair enough space to return to their library nook.
There wasn't time to write blood mouth on the back of Mezrielda's robes when you had to write scroll after scroll on the meaning of Aquarius.
Another plus was that, despite the horoscopes Bagsy had provided Tod running out, he had continued to make his own up, incorrectly attributing them to her. Bagsy didn't say anything – she was already getting tired of being asked to foretell what grades people would get.
Some students, though, seemed able to work and still have energy.
Primrose could be found during the holidays with her snake-like nose in books or her eyes fixed in concentration as she mumbled back memorized words to herself. When she wasn't doing that, she wasn't hanging out with Rebekah or Logan, but instead disappearing.
Curious, Bagsy had tailed her one time, crawling along the ceiling to find Primrose sneaking off to the acting troupe tent where Lewis would meet her outside. Bagsy wasn't sure what to make of it at first and was even more confused when Rebekah and Logan approached her one day.
'Logan, don't,' Rebekah was warning him.
'Bagsy,' Logan said, Rebekah trying to pull him away. 'It was all a prank, I swear, but Primrose said she'd stop it by now and she hasn't–'
'Logan!' Rebekah emphasised, her greater strength hauling Logan away. 'Shut up!'
Bagsy watched them leave the courtyard, puzzled, and decided to put them from her mind and enjoy the sunshine instead.
The next breakfast Bagsy and Mezrielda sat down, gathering the foods they'd take with them to the Eagle Club room.
As they did, Primrose sauntered dawn the hall, holding a box and swishing it through the air above her head. The familiar words Do you have the sight? If you do, you won't need this! were written on it.
'Alright, everyone! Listen up!' Primrose announced loudly. She looked bored, like she'd had enough of studying and needed to stir up some trouble with that toothy grin of hers. 'Bagsy Beetlehorn, our resident celebrity, made a premonition for me the other day that my scales would go away. As you can see, they haven't. I wanted to ask...' Primrose slammed the box down next to Bagsy, who leapt out of her skin and looked at her in confusion. She'd made no such prediction about her scales.
Spinning around to address the rest of the hall, Primrose spread her arms out. 'Has anyone else noticed any... off prophecies?'
Hands wormed into the air, tentatively at first, but then numerous and confident.
'She said my friend would like my gift, but he didn't!' a young Ravenclaw announced.
'I bought toffees because she said I'd enjoy them,' a Gryffindor boy called. 'My teeth were stuck together for a day!'
Nodding her head with forced sympathy, Primrose put on a dramatically pained expression. 'I think that we've all been had. So! To fix this once and for all, Bagsy is going to take the test one more time, to prove it wasn't a flute the first.'
Bagsy glared at Primrose. If she could pass this test the first time, she could pass it the second. 'Sure,' she said in a trembling voice but with her fists clenched. She was trying to imagine there was no one else in the hall but Primrose and Mezrielda, who was sitting behind her.
'Bagsy,' Mezrielda murmured. 'We should leave.'
Bagsy shook her head. 'I have the sight. It'll be fine.'
The first round began. Primrose flicked seven cards in front of Bagsy, with her own set of hidden behind a screen. Quickly, Primrose picked one of the cards and showed it to the rest of the hall, keeping the front hidden from Bagsy.
Primrose drawled out her words. 'Which card did I pick?'
Bagsy closed her eyes, willing whatever future-vision she had inside of her to tell her the answer. Trusting her instincts, Bagsy put her finger on the hag of kidneys.
There was a collective gasp.
'Wrong!' Primrose sing-songed. 'It was the toad of pumpkins, I'm afraid.'
Something awful writhed in the put of Bagsy's stomach.
'Next round,' said Primrose. She placed a bunch of objects in front of Bagsy and pointed at another one hidden behind her screen. 'Go on, then? Which one do I have hidden here.'
Bagsy frowned, begging the seer within her to provide the answer. 'Uhh... the orange?'
'Nope!' Primrose cried joyfully, revealing it was a swivelling spoon. Students were beginning to slide glares at Bagsy, who was wilting like a dying peace lily below the boiling sun. 'And now, the nail in the coffin. I'll write a word down here and let everyone see it, and you have to guess what it is.' Quickly scribbling it out, Primrose held it up for those around them to see. The students sitting a few rows away hadn't noticed the small theatre production that was going on, and neither had the professors, but those close enough let out mean laughs. 'Well, Bagsy? Any ideas?'
Hopeless, Bagsy looked at Mezrielda, who was in turn boring an icy stare at Primrose, her fists clenched around her cutlery.
'Don't answer her,' said Mezrielda. 'This is a set up.'
'But I should be able to know!' Bagsy protested. 'I have the sight!'
Mezrielda's voice dropped low and harsh. 'You never had the sight. From the looks of it, she rigged the first test to trick you into believing you did.'
'But what about the choking on the tomato? Or the shears in the bag?'
'My guess? She's got too much free time and has been planning this for a while.'
Primrose cut into their urgent conversation. 'Clock is ticking, Bagsyllia.'
Her throat closing in on itself, Bagsy looked at her plate and tried to hide behind her own hair, not wanting to look at the angry glares that surrounded her.
'What a pity. Well, I'll tell you. You'll be familiar with this word; it's liar. If you need a definition I can lend you a mirror.'
Gurgles of laughter rose around Bagsy and, without asking her body too, she pushed away from the table and hurried from the hall, wiping her face as she went.
After then, it didn't matter how distracted by exams students were, they'd find time to get at the vampire and the fraud that roamed their otherwise pleasant halls.
The Eagle Club room remained a refuge.
On the last day of the holidays, Mezrielda marched angrily into the circular hidden room, a small package of newspapers in her arms. 'More to be burnt,' she huffed, unceremoniously unloading the stack onto the floor.
Heart speeding up anxiously, Bagsy peered at the front page.
When Fame goes to a girl's head: Bagsy Beetlehorn and the Future-Sight Fraud
By Tod Alden
A few days ago a select group of students were surprised to find that the beloved actress of Rose Deprive was acting not just in Vampire Affairs, but in real life, too. Word spread and now it is my duty, as editor of this paper, and the person who green-lit the horoscope section provided to us by Bagsy Beetlehorn, to announce that the seemingly trust-worthy Hufflepuff has been taking us all for a ride. Before we thought she was a star and a seer, now it seems she's burnt out and been caught in her own deception.
Primrose Vinski gave a first-hand account of the wicked scheme that Bagsy–
'Don't read it.' Mezrielda turned the papers over. 'Just set it on fire.'
'I'm never speaking to him again,' Bagsy vowed.
She did just that. Any time she saw Tod or heard his voice she'd look away or move in the opposite direction. Whatever he had to say for himself, she didn't want to hear it.
School was back in session, and there were a handful of revision lessons before the students would be in full frenzy as they prepared for exams. It was hard to focus, though, when rolled up paper balls were being thrown at them when the professors had their backs turned, or when students cast the cold-sneeze jinx at them as they walked past. Bagsy had to constantly wear her spell-sponge gloves, but none of her inventions stopped her from hearing the taunts of liar or blood mouth that were called at them wherever they went.
'Things are really awful right now,' Mezrielda said miserably as they sat in the foldable forge, one of the few remaining spaces where they were safe from the onslaught. Bagsy groaned her agreement.
Strangely, another place where things were almost normal was Professor Starrett's Charms lessons. Unlike many of the other Professors, like Kim or Wattleseed or even Stery who, despite all his strictness did miss the occasional taunt when he was helping another student, Starrett was a hawk who missed nothing.
Any student who tried to smudge the writing of Bagsy's work, or pull on Mezrielda's hair, or shoot jets of lightning at them under their desks, was instantly dished a detention. At first, it had been very satisfying, but as students realised they couldn't touch Bagsy or Mezrielda in Charms, it became a relief. Once Starrett entered the room, they were both safe.
'Miss Beetlehorn,' Starrett said at the end of the final Charms revision lesson. 'See me after class.'
Bagsy wondered what was wrong. Their private lessons had been going well. Every other lesson Bagsy managed to cast a spell or two. Sure, they were weak, but Starrett had seemed pleased, and even given her a some-what friendly scowl when she'd managed to create another protego charm.
Students milled out of the classroom, glancing back suspiciously. It was odd that Starrett, who'd seemed to hate Bagsy for three years straight, was suddenly so adamant that no one could get away with bullying her.
'What is it, Professor Starrett?'
'Fitzsimmons and I have noticed you've been having a tough time recently,' Starrett said, looking like a hungry orca at the disappearing students. 'I've spoken to Fitzsimmons. They've informed the other professors to be vigilant while we try and sort this. In the meantime...' She paused, pulling a thin slip of paper from her sleeve. 'I require you take this and keep it on your person at all times.'
Bagsy gingerly took the paper and examed it. It had Professor Starrett written in calligraphy on it.
'When you tear that piece of paper I will know instantly. If you're separated from the piece of paper beyond a certain distance, I will also know.' She tapped her red wand to the paper and it glowed a similar colour to a light forming in Bagsy's palm. 'You must only use this in the direst of circumstances. I will always come to your aid if you break this, so be sure to mean it when you summon me.'
Floored, Bagsy stared at the paper, and then up at Starrett. 'I don't understand?'
'I only give these to very particular people,' Starrett added seriously. 'I might have misjudged you at first, Beetlehorn. Don't make me wrong a second time. Only use that if you absolutely must.'
Starrett must trust her an awful lot to give her this slip of paper. Given that right then hardly anyone in the school thought she was trust-worthy Bagsy found tears welling in her eyes.
'Here,' Starrett said, looking as if she was about to produce a tissue for her.
'It's fine,' Bagsy sniffed, pulling the handkerchief out that Starrett had given her. 'I still have this one. I've washed it since, don't worry,' she added with a weak laugh.
Looking at the handkerchief with an odd expression, Starrett nodded. 'If anyone harms you come straight to me,' she ordered sternly. 'Understood?'
'Understood...' Bagsy hesitated, knowing she was about to take a risk. 'Professor... can I ask you a question?'
Starrett peered down at her sceptically. 'That depends on the question.'
'You didn't seem to like me. In fact, you said you hated me. I guess I'm a little confused...'
Sighing, as if she'd been expecting this, Starrett folded her arms and tapped a foot on the floor. Clearly, she couldn't wait for this to be over. 'I thought you were spying for you sister, and I don't trust your sister. It's as simple as that.'
Bagsy frowned. 'Why don't you trust my sis– why don't you trust Bontie?'
There was a long pause, as if Starrett didn't know whether she wanted to answer or not. 'Your sister was very manipulative. I noticed her schemes, even if no one else did.'
'Schemes?'
'Like spending her entire life at Hogwarts acting as if she couldn't cast spells well or brew potions effectively,' Starrett snapped.
A feeling of confusion weighed in Bagsy's belly. 'Maybe she wasn't very good?'
'I caught her practising on her own once. From that small glimpse alone it was evident to me that she was the most talented student at the school. Someone who hides that isn't someone that can be trusted.'
'Maybe she was shy?' Bagsy blurted, not sure why she was trying to defend Bontie. She felt strange, as if everything was back to front just thinking about her, and yet her word vomit was uncontainable.
'There were other reasons, Miss Beetlehorn, but I don't want to re-tread what is, for me, very old ground.' Starrett turned quiet. She murmured in a low voice, 'In truth I currently, in a way, work with Bontie. The longer I've known her, the more I've mistrusted her. I thought you were the same as her. Hiding your true abilities. Misleading and lying. Spying, too.' She pursed her lips. 'I believe I was wrong.'
Taking that in, Bagsy put two and two together. Last year, Bontie had revealed she was working with Fitzsimmons, and it had been them who'd stolen and hidden the creatures from the Ministry of Magic. 'Bontie told me about that,' she said. 'About working with you and Fitzsimmons.'
'There you go,' said Starrett curtly. 'More evidence that she can't be trusted. She told you something she shouldn't have. I don't even want to know how much detail she gave you. I imagine whatever she let slip it was far too much.'
Shoulders sagging, Bagsy accepted that Starrett hated Bontie. At least now she had some idea of why Starrett had despised her, too.
There was a hand on one of her sagging shoulders, and Starrett gave it a small shake. 'Did I give you permission to sulk?'
'No.'
'Now that's all sorted, get out of my class. I have practise papers to heavily criticise.'
'Have fun with that.'
Starrett pulled a disparaging face as she sat down. 'I'm sure it'll be a party. All I need are some balloons and a cake.'
'See you tomorrow,' Bagsy said, pushing Bontie from her mind. Tomorrow she had another Artifisiary lesson with Starrett, and tomorrow she'd avoid the topic of Bontie like the plague.
'Actually,' Starrett said, pausing as she went to dip her quill in ink. 'I think it best we end our lessons for this year, what with the exams so near.'
'Oh... sure...' Bagsy felt a tug of sadness at her chest. 'That... makes sense.'
'They'll be no excuses this year,' said Starrett. 'I expect to see some magic in your Charms exam. I will not tolerate laziness. Don't think I won't expel you.'
'I'll do my best,' was all Bagsy said before leaving, stowing the slip of paper carefully in her robe and making a note to transfer it whenever she changed clothes. She intended to do as Starrett said – this slip would always stay on her person. Not so much for the mean pranks students were playing on her, but for the danger she knew would eventually find her, whether it be from the breathing blight they needed information from, or the blood eyed beast herself.
Perhaps the worst trick other students would play on them was asking them to the Vampire Ball.
'Hey, fang-girl,' a Hufflepuff boy in his final years had drooled over Mezrielda. 'Wanna go with me to the ball? I'm sure I can bite as good as you can.'
'Oi, creep!' Teresa, who'd been sitting opposite them, had spat. 'Go be a weirdo elsewhere.'
Nevis shook his head in disapproval. 'Some people,' he muttered in his small voice.
One upside of all the glares and jinxes other students shot at them was the surprising number of students who wouldn't stand for it.
Jon and Itsuki had taken to escorting Bagsy and Mezrielda between the lessons they shared, offering their enhanced-thaumathletic skill, as they'd called it, to be their bodyguards, also as they'd called it.
Itsuki's hair, prehensile due to the effects of thaumaturgy, could catch and throw back certain types of spells, while Jon even went so far as to threaten calling his brother, Ford, to beat anyone up who caused trouble.
While Jon was yelling at some first years who'd tried, as was now the school challenge, to stick a set of gum-fangs into Mezrielda's hair, Mezrielda had whispered to Bagsy, 'You know it's bad when Jon is willing to invoke the power of his brother.'
Killian and Fiona would sometimes come and eat with Bagsy and Mezrielda at the Hufflepuff table to keep them company when Teresa, Nevis, Itsuki or Jon weren't there.
Greenda, Emmeline and Kat chipped in when they could, too. As head-girl, prefect and quidditch captain respectively they wielded enough power to make the Hufflepuff common room and table reasonably safe spaces. According to Greenda, a memo had been sent to all the administrative figures in Hogwarts to watch out for the poor behaviour. Kat had taken this memo so seriously that, with reluctant acceptance from Emmeline, she'd booted Primrose from the quidditch team, given she'd set up the whole sight thing to make Bagsy out as a liar.
It had the effect of Hufflepuff decisively losing their final match against Gryffindor, being a whole player down, but Kat had happily said in her ending speech, as Hufflepuff enjoyed their third-place title, that it is better to come in third with friends, than come second with enemies.
Despite all of this support, Bagsy and Mezrielda decided it was wise to avoid the final trip to Hogsmeade. It would be the wild-west of student anger. There would be hardly any teachers around and a lot of opportunities for others, Primrose included, to get to them.
Downtrodden, they retreated to the Eagle Club, only to find Nevis and Teresa eagerly dragging them to the Hufflepuff common room instead.
'Tada!' Nevis proclaimed, gesturing at a set of mannequins pinned with fine materials and gently glinting jewels. 'Teresa and I were making our outfits for the ball.'
'We want to be matching!' Teresa chipped in.
Nevis said, 'We figured, since you can't get something from Hogsmeade, you might want some outfits, too?'
'Screw the students being mean to you,' Teresa added forcefully, her hands on her hips. 'We're all going to have fun anyway.'
Mezrielda looked at Nevis quietly.
Bagsy was already wiping her eyes. 'That's so kind of you!'
Mezrielda murmured, 'Nevis, I hope you know that it wasn't me who ruined your origami dress in second year.'
'I believe you,' he said. 'Besides, I made another one over the summer, and I think it was better in the end. Now, give me some ideas about what you want to wear and let me take your measurements. If... if that would be alright, that is...'
With their outfits sorted, thanks to Nevis' help, and Teresa, who'd spent the entire fitting telling Bagsy to stop complaining about being poked by needles, even though she could definitely be gentler, all Bagsy and Mezrielda needed to figure out was who to go with.
'You are meant to go with someone, right?' Bagsy checked as she flicked through a book on the great wyvern waterfall of 1349. They were sitting in a corner of the courtyard. So far no one had disturbed them. It was a bit of a miracle.
'That is the done thing for a ball,' Mezrielda said. 'But no one's going to say yes to us.'
It was only a few more minutes before a Gryffindor boy strolled up to them. 'You're the blood mouth, right?' he asked.
Bagsy noticed a group of students standing in a tight group at the other end of the courtyard. They were watching and giggling.
'I need a dance partner. Want to be it?' the boy asked with a sly smile.
'I do not,' said Mezrielda.
The boy's smirk faltered. 'What? Going with someone else? Who'd want to be near a vampire, let alone dance with one.'
'You, apparently,' snapped Mezrielda. 'You just asked me.'
'Pathetic.' The boy turned and shrugged at the group of students who he'd clearly been dared by. 'Just admit you don't have anyone. Who'd be willing to take you? A ghost?'
Bagsy was on her feet in a second. 'S-she's going to the dance with me, actually,' she forced out, hoping her stutter didn't entirely ruin the intimidation she was going for.
'What? Really?'
'Yeah!'
He shrugged. 'Whatever. A blood mouth going with a liar. No skin off my nose.' He left, recounting the event to his friends who scowled in Mezrielda and Bagsy's direction.
'What a prat,' Bagsy muttered, looking back at Mezrielda. She paused. 'Are you alright?'
Mezrielda wafted her hand in an uncharacteristically flustered manner, her face flushed. 'Fine,' she managed, looking a bit stunned. 'You didn't have to do that.'
'Of course I did. That's what friends do.' When Mezrielda still seemed a little put-out, she continued. 'Oh, cheer up.' She elbowed Mezrielda's side. 'I know you're not the biggest fan of Vampire Affairs, but you must admit, going to a ball together will be fun.'
Folding her arms and swishing her hair over her shoulder, her blush now receding, Mezrielda shrugged with forced nonchalance. 'I suppose it will be adequate.'
With that it was decided: Bagsy and Mezrielda would go to the ball together. Bagsy felt over the moon, and from Mezrielda's reaction, she reckoned she did, too.