Ink dotted her hands, parchment scribbled with loopy partially cursive handwriting. Her hair tied up, a stubborn strand slipping free, breaking her focus. Her teeth captured her bottom lip as she refrained from outwardly groaning with frustration.
"May I sit here?" The girl looking up with surprise, not processing her surroundings fully. Viktor Krum hovered above her, a nervous glint in his usually stoic eyes.
Ascella relaxed, tense shoulders slumping in a downward arch. "Shall I be expecting Randolv as well?" Her lips curled in a small grin.
Viktor laughed, taking the seat across from her, "He despises the library," he set one book out, not even bothered to open it. He rested his chin on his palm and turned his face toward the other end of the library.
Ascella followed his stare, seeing Hermione Granger at one of the long tables. Unruly curls tucked behind her ears, hunched over a large book, her cheeks reddening as if sensing the stares. "I'm not one for giving advice on these matters, but you should maybe try speaking to her," the dark brunette turned her attention back to her half written assignment.
"No different when you stare at that redhead," she almost didn't understand him. His voice was lower in more of a whisper, accent thick and words laced with heavy 'v' sounds. But when she did, her neck and face blotched a similar red to Hermiones.
"I don't stare," she glared at him, yet he paid it no mind. "He's obnoxious. Loud. Arrogant-"
"Then why do you sneak off with him?" He finally turned his gaze back to Ascella, a knowing smirk on his wide face.
The slytherin girl scoffed with disbelief, "I do not. Don't listen to Randolv, " trying desperately to keep her tone at a whisper like level. "I'm gonna strangle that buffoon the second I set my sights on him," she grumbled to herself, scribbling words down aggressively on her parchment.
Suddenly, a paper plane swirled through the air at high speeds. Till it smacked Ascella in the back of head, the girl wincing and scowling at the sharp fleeting pain. The paper then scuttled off the ground, levitating back up until it hovered annoyingly close to her face.
Ascella huffed, taking the paper plane with a harsh swipe and grab. Unfolding the charmed object, sloppy cricked writing revealed. "Redhead sends you love note?" Viktor asked innocently, trying to peer over at the paper.
"No, its-" Abruptly, the paper spit out flakes of torn parchment directly into their faces. White paper tangled into her hair and clung to her sweater. Viktor managed to come out scotch clean with the exception of one single piece on his shoulder.
A silence passed. Until Viktor let out a laugh, an odd sight from the bulky Bulgarian. "Quiet!" Madame Prince scolded from a corner of the library.
A small smothered giggle sounded afterward, the pair looking over to see Hermione shyly glancing at Krum. Ascella would have been amused if it weren't for her trying to wipe off the paper flakes all over her sweater and hair. "I must be off," she hastily stood up, flicking her wand in a quick wave, all her belongings arranging into her satchel.
"You were right. It is not sneaking," Viktor then slyly grinned, "You are obvious,"
Ascella menacingly glared at the boy, swinging the strap of her satchel over her shoulder. "And you are obvious about your crush on Hermione Granger," she retorted, waving her wand once more over herself, scowling even deeper when the enchanted paper didn't come off.
Huffing as she marched down the aisle, ignoring Hermiones stare.
---
"It worked!" George grinned at the sight of Ascella, referring the pieces of paper still clinging all over her.
"Get it off, or the deals off," she stomped her heel atop his foot, causing the ginger to howl in exaggerated pain.
Fred took her by shoulders gently, smirking down at her with his boyish charm. "I think it suits you," his fingers plucked a peice off near her collar, fingertips ghosting her skin.
Ascella flushing, unsure why the more likely accidental touch made her skin crawl with goosebumps. "I'll smash the vials," she emptily threatened, not intending on ruining the aging potion she spent weeks brewing.
George waved his wand, more likely the original caster of the charm, the paper falling onto the ground. "It was all fun," he wiggled his foot as it still ached a bit.
"All fun," she arched her brows gesturing to his temporarily hurt foot. The girl exhaled a fustrated breath as she pulled out the vials from her satchel. "As requested," she held them out to Fred who still stood quite close to her.
The boy, before taking it, slipped a piece of her fallen hair behind her ear. Ascella's face nearly as red as his hair, "You're bloody brilliant, ye know?" He grinned as he took the vials from her hand, watching as she cleared her throat and shyly looked away.
"You haven't even put it up to the test yet." She corrected, brushing the compliment off like the paper that was on her shoulders.
George then curiously looked at the girl, "Why didn't you make one for yourself? Doubting your work?" He questioned, wondering why she made no attempt to enter the tournament, finding it suspicious. Like his family, she did not hold much wealth to her name.
Ascella quirked her brow up, "Leave it to Gryffindors to not think ahead," she mused, shaking her head at the pair. "I'll see you after lunch," she turned, feeling her stomach growl at the mention of food.
"Can't get enough of me, can you?" Fred's long strides easily catching up to her as she began to walk off.
Ascella scoffed, "No, dimwit. You'd think I'd slave over a potion for weeks just to not see it in action?" She fastened her steps, hair swinging as she strutted away from them.
---
Ascella mind indulged with the information scribbled on the thick browning paper. Surroundings a mere blurr as she entranced herself with new knowledge. Unaware of Hermione Grangers stare on her book.
Cheers erupted into the great hall, the familiar voice of the twins snapping her back into reality. "Lads we did it!" George prided as he flashed the vials. Ascella shutting her newly prized book as her focus shifted to something more interesting, her potion. "Brewed just this morning! "
"It's not going to work" Hermione taunted knowingly from the row in front of them.
George stepped down to kneel beside Hermione. "Oh, yeah, why is that Granger?"
Fred sent the dark brunnette a smug grin, causing Ascellas cheeks to partly flush a shade of pink. Then he stepped down just as his brother did. Hermione huffed a breath as if fed up with the twins' antics. "You see this," she pointed to the mystical blue circle around the Goblit. "This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself. "
"So?" Fred looked up at Ascella, sending her a not so subtle wink. The slytherin girl wanting to hide away as her face reddened even more with embarrassment.
Hermione slammed her book shut, whole body jerking with her exhale of irritation. "SO! A genius like Dumbledore could not possibly be fooled by something as pathetically dimwitted as an aging potion. "
"That's why it's so brilliant -" Fred grinned. George then finishing, "because it's so pathetically dimwitted." Fred then stood tall, followed by George. "Ready Fred -" "Ready George -" "Bottoms up," they cheered in unison, gulping back the potion.
Ascella intriguingly analyzed both the twins' features, seeing if her potion over did the couple of months they needed. With anticipated breaths, the crowd collectively watched as the twins jumped over the age line. Cheers erupting as nothing occurred, accepting it as a possibility they had fooled Dumbledore. Then they dropped slips of torn paper with their names scribbled on top into the blue flame, a silence following. Then prideful claps as nothing seemed to disturb the goblit.
Ascella jolted to her feet as blue flames suddenly jumped out of the goblit. Two blasts of magic slammed into the twins chest, the gingers soaring in the air before hitting the ground with a roll. "Shit" the curse word left her lips without thought.
Their ginger hair had faded to white, long matching beards growing on their chins. The brothers looking at each other in complete shock at their new aged appearance. "You Said-" "you Said-" and then both took a lunge at each other, tackling and rolling along the stone ground.
Ascella bit back a laugh at their aged appearance that resembled Dumbledore. Dark eyes sparking with amusement, a lightness conveyed in her stature. Fred caught a glance at the girl, his small pause allowing George an upper hand.
Chants of 'fight' urging the two on. Students riled up as Fred and George continued to wrestle. Ascella giggling, an angelic sound drowned out by the students. Except to Harry, who turned his attention to the girl, his expression of humor washing away, brows furrowing as his brain meddled with something. He was about to reach out to the girl until abruptly the students ceased to an eerie silence.
The doors opened with a slam, marching steps echoing in the hall. The slytherin girl, along with the rest, turning their attention to Viktor Krum, whose stoney expression reeked of seriousness and duty. Opposite of how he was hours prior. He dropped his name into the goblit, sending a smug smirk over to Hermione, which Ascella caught attentively.
Randolv then walked past Viktor, mimicking the same action. His hair gelled, and uniform tidy and tucked, just as it was the first time Ascella met him. His lips pressed in a straight line, forehead coated in a gleam of anxiety ridden sweat. He dropped a piece of parchment into the goblit, unfazed by the prideful cheers from his Bulgarian classmates. Until Viktor heartily shook his shoulder in a praising act, patting his back in a brotherly manner. Randolv then beamed with a grin.
"You," two voices synchronized to one caught Ascella off gaurd. Turning on her heel to face the towering elderly twins. "Fix us,"
Ascella arched her brow up at them, "I might have a wrinkle cream to suggest to you. It'll make you look 20 years young by the 'morrow,' she taunted lightly with enjoyment, "Maybe lend you my father trimmers to groom those beards of yours?"
"Oh, no need, Miss Lovegood," McGonagall had snuck up on the teenager's, her pinched face displaying her displeasure. "Follow me, you three"
--
The curious gazes of former Headmasters made her feel small, like a mere insect. Shyly shuffling forward into the large circular space, staring at the empty Headmaster chair.
"Ooh, it's you," a tired long voice drawled out, the girl turning her head to the side at the presence. The sorting hat blinking groggily atop a shelf.
"You remember me?" The dark brunnette stepped closer to the magical object.
The hat hummed for a long second, "Well, of course, I remember all," It's face scrunched with the wither of the old leather.
Ascella chin tilted up, a coldness in her stature, "Then you remember your mistake in sorting me in Slytherin."
The hats mouth twisted in a scowl, "I've never made a mistake." It stated with pride and confidence, "Your uncle asked me the same once."
Ascella tilted her head in confusion, "You must have me mistaken-"
The doors opened suddenly, cutting her off from speaking further to the sorting hat. "Miss Lovegood," Dumbledore greeted, a merry grin on his lips as his beard bobbed up. His eyes, on the other hand, did not meet hers, instead sliding over to Sorting hat. "He's a bit grumpy when woken. Still stirred in a dream sometimes,"
Ascella eyed the hat warily, "I see," she then took the seat gestured to her by the headmaster.
"You have quite the ambition, you know? Not many have the determination to brew such a complicated potion just to surpass my age line defense. " he extended a bowl of lemon drops toward her, and Ascellas mind instantly wandered to Fred Weasley
"To sour for my liking," she softly denied the offer. Dark hues darting around at the portraits anxiously, "Rather than call it ambition, how about a burning passion to further my intellect," she was dodging his compliment, not wanting to accept the traits of a Slytherin.
Dumbledore nodded with a soft, sympathetic smile, "Did you know the great wizard Merlin was a slytherin?" He asked, the girl tapping her fingers in a fidget atop her lap as she nodded. He then waved his hand as if brushing away a physical thought, "Back to why you have been brought to my office," he leaned forward a bit in his chair, "While I admire your strive for knowledge and a challenge, I must to my displeasure give you a Saturdays detention with Professor Burbage."
Ascella tried to refrain a grin, knowing she was being let off easy. "I understand," she nodded, "This won't happen again,"
Dumbledore gave her a wink, sitting back in his chair relaxed. "Oh, I doubt that. So is it George or Fred?"
If Ascella had been sipping the contents of water, she would have spit it out and choked. Her face a blotchy red, "w-what?" She croaked out as if she were physically choking.
"Young love, niave and innocent. How I reminiscent my youth for it," Dumbeldore spoke in a daze, resembling Luna in her mind.
Ascella eyes bugged out, shaking her head fervently, "No, it's not like that at all. Me and Fred are um, well Fred is a tolerated acquaintance," she didn't realize she had practically confessed to Dumbledore, who she had a liking for.
"I see. I see. My mistake," he grasped his goblit, which was charmed to refill at his touch. "Bottoms up,"
----
"You know, if you never look up from a book, you'll miss out on the fun happening right front of you," Randolv without her consent, grasped the book, yanking it from her hands.
Ascella attempted to reach for her item, like a toddler. "Bugger off, Randolv," she quipped with irritation, satisfied as she got a grip on the book, on her tip toes. "This apparent fun is not to my liking"
"Go to a party with me, and I'll give it back," he wagered with the girl, her brows furrowing in confusion and disgust at the idea.
"No-" he then lifted the book higher, the girl falling forward off balance as the book slipped from her grip. Managing to catch herself with a stumbled step. "Don't you dare," Randolv devilishly grinned as he pointed his wand at the book. A flame began to apparate from the tip, "Fine. Fine."
Randolv grinned with satisfaction, "I'll pick you up at 8 outside your dormitory," he then practically skipped away, still holding her prized book. "Keeping this as leverage!"