chapter ix fall to a romantic death
***
HOGSMEADE WAS THE ULTIMATE UNIQUE SELLING POINT to any student of Hogwarts after weeks of constant beginning-of-term studying. What more could persuade them to stay on to study in the ancient castle than being able to spend the weekends happily blustering through the leisurely stores that awaited them a brisk walk away? (Okay, perhaps the fact that they would likely become jobless if they didn't stay on and study well enough — but you get the gist. Hogsmeade is fun.)
In the surrounding stores people emerged from dedicated window displays, prodding dangerous-to-dignity joke shop items in the faces of their friends, or chewing their way through their newly replenished sweet stash in the midst of brewing pubs, erratic locomotor chuffs and hefty gusts of gathering wind throughout the recreational village.
Likewise, it was the start of October, and the Halloween Ball, being arranged courteously by the Head Boy and Head Girl, alongside other prefects, was fast approaching. Okay, maybe not. They still had an entire month to sort everything out, and for all the fourth years and above to gather themselves and garner dates too, but time often proves itself to pass unfathomably fast in times of dire need. And to counteract her time demons, Avery and her friends agreed to go shopping for dresses earlier rather than later, when every guy and girl yearning for a proper fit would be bustling in and out of the store and making it impossible to find a space to stand tranquilly without impeding one someone else's personal space. It was only the smart thing to do.
Avery found herself pretty much in the know with Charlie Weasley by now. They were... friends. She knew she no longer had to hide herself in a shell around him, and she knew it was okay that they got along like they did. She's stopped thinking that in this case, the case of being Head Girl, that the change was not a bad thing — seeing the results she saw only proved that this was a good change in her life. And part of her thinks that maybe it's a step to being able to welcome more changes — more people. The good thing was, she didn't think it was so bad anymore. Maybe there is a good side to some changes. Avery sees that now.
(But she was still sceptical. Obviously. Some changes perhaps aren't good. This can be explained at a later stage, though.)
The thought remains in Avery's head, and it was something that she didn't pay much heed to when she probably should have — and it was the fact that in a year's time, she would be studying the things she loves in Norway. Norway. Sure, still in Europe — but she's never been this far away from her family. From her friends, too. And of course there'll be new people there. She'd be damned if there wasn't. That was part of the process, though — meeting all these new people. And it was good that now Avery had begun realising that things weren't going to be the same in Norway — but that didn't mean they weren't going to be good. It was in Avery's own hands however she would like to make the most of her time abroad. If she wanted to sulk and hide in a dorm room those entire five years, she could do that. Or, she could get out of her comfort zone and meet new people. Change. Because, as she's discovered, change isn't the worst thing in the world.
Gladrags Wizardwear always seems to be bigger than everyone's initial thoughts, when they come across the quaint, well-decorated display that faces the shoppers at first sight. It was seen as quite a quirky store... they sell the most lurid, vivid items of clothing, yet there's also a more discrete section with formal wear for both men and women. As the formal section isn't frequented quite as much as the everyday-wear, the racks of dress robes and ball gowns are the finest, most exclusive section, basking in the shine of polished jewels adorning the pristine fabric of the gowns.
(It was the beginning of October, so Avery thought it compulsory to notify the shopkeepers, an eccentric brother and sister partnership, named Enzo and Mabel, that within that month their customers would become more abundant in the formalwear. Enzo seemed more than ecstatic, whipping the measuring tape around his neck in excitement, while Mabel began to frantically grope for a parchment and quill behind their cluttered desk, desperate to write to the dressmakers to be more productive and send a wider selection of dresses in lieu of the Halloween Ball.)
And now, the unconventional Enzo made a plea that made Avery and her friends Dominique, Hannah, Rowan and Juliet wait among the racks of bedazzling ball gowns, as Enzo took it upon himself to pick out the gowns for the five girls. They were in a room consisting of all the female formalwear which happened to be situated next to three curtain shielding dressing rooms, all large enough to fit one person each.
"What do you guys think of this one?" Avery grins, holding a hanger up to her chest. The gown attached to it was exuberant, consisting of a range of vibrant, boisterous colours, easily outdoing a rainbow. It was ridiculous. "Imagine me rocking up to the Ball wearing this!"
"Oh, you'd look stunning," says Dominique, sniggering. "You'd easily stand out."
"You'd fall," says Hannah. "It's twice the length of your legs."
"Or turn into a werewolf and rip the dress to shreds," says Juliet, "Then it'll be a waste of what — seventy galleons?"
Rowan frowns. "A werewolf? I didn't know Avery was a werewolf?" She looks at the strawberry blonde Ravenclaw, "Are you a werew— oh, Juliet was joking."
Juliet grins.
With an tumultuous chuckle, Avery goes to put the flamboyant gown back on the rack, having to pause halfway when—
"Stop what you're doing! Drop that hanger!"
Avery freezes, just like the rest of her friends at this intrusive, offhand yell. Lucky for her, when she dropped the hanger, it was already halfway on the rack, so fell against it with a light clash. She holds her hands up in an alarmed surrender, swivelling around slowly. Dominique's eyes had widened. Rowan's had narrowed. Juliet was grinning, and Hannah bit down on her lower lip. They all look at the bizarre man at the outset of the room, his face straight, serious and horrified. It was Enzo, the co-shopkeeper of Gladrags, probably finally able to start helping the girls in picking out their gowns.
Enzo confuses the five Ravenclaws when he begins to... meditate? They weren't exactly sure what the man was doing. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing in a composed manner, and two of his fingers were rubbing the tip of the measuring tape (laced around his neck) rigorously.
"What is he doing—"
"Quiet, dear," snaps Enzo, cutting off Hannah's bewildered expression, opening his eyes momentarily and frowns, "I'm channelling the spirits of all the previous designers inhabited in this place. You do, of course, want the best possible outfit for your Halloween Ball?"
"Yeah—?"
"Well then, I suggest you allow me to connect with the spirits in peace."
Inching back slightly, Hannah shoots a bemused glance his way, but otherwise allowing him to channel the spirits. Pretty soon, he opens his eyes and takes a refreshed breath, clapping his hands together. Enzo smiles, a jovial aura appearing to his middle aged figure, his head balding with pricks of stubbly grey hair and with a rounded belly sure to have endured large quantities of beer in his lifetime.
"I'm ready," says Enzo, venturing into the middle of the room. He points a petulant finger Dominique's way, who flinches suddenly, "You!"
"— Me?" Dominique retaliates, a hand rising to her chest.
"Yes, you," says Enzo. He takes the measuring tape out from around his neck and begins to measure it against Dominique's figure, sketching down measurements onto his parchment. "You have this... classic emanation coming off of you," Enzo explains, "You like things old-fashioned, and on the basis of the shade of brown of your coat is, you're into older trends. You're an adventurer, you're down-to-earth. There's more to you on the surface and many people don't understand that which is why you resort to making yourself stand out in situations. Am I right?"
"Actually... yeah," Dominique splutters, astounded at how well Enzo had managed to interpret her.
"No need to be surprised, dear," chortles Enzo, rifling through the racks of gowns. He picks two heavy, beaded, bejewelled dresses, handing them to Dominique with a smile. "I'm an expert in the art of human interpretation. It's a brilliant skill to have in the fashion industry. Changing rooms are on the right, dear."
"You next, dear." Once Dominique has disappeared behind the curtain, slickly dragging against the metal railing and with the sound of ruffled clothes sounding from behind, Enzo beckons for Hannah to go to him, plucking herself off of the ornate rouge sofa she and Juliet were seated on beside the dressing rooms. He begins with her measurements, inching himself in different angles to get the correct units for Hannah. "You, my dear, I regard you as a believer."
Hannah furrows her eyebrows, her sleek black ponytail flowing smoothly from the crest of her head. "A believer?"
Enzo nods. "Yes, a believer. Let me guess... prehistoric myths? No." He gasps, "I know. You have this... dreamy aura around you. It's as if the stars are twinkling in your eyes. Like an entire galaxy exists within those deep brown orbs. You, my dear, are an astronomer!"
A small gasp escapes Hannah's mouth, looking around at the rest of her friends' bewildered faces. "Yes — yes, I am."
"Just as I thought," says Enzo, again, rifling through the racks. "I know just the colour — there are a few different colours I think would do you good, actually. Here!"
Enzo the fashion designer continues on with the fittings, Hannah and Dominique eventually settling on the perfect gowns, according to them and Enzo's choice. It was strange, but... well, he was strange, and that was the strange thing about how good of a fashion designer he was. There was no doubting his capabilities. When 'reading' Rowan, he took care to notice her toned arms, outlined by her thin T-shirt and suggested that something practical yet classy, to suit her quirky, sporty personality. As for Juliet, he specifically mentioned that she 'had a glint of the devil' in her eyes, and opted for something a little more... daring to suit her mischievous personality. At long last, Enzo had found most of them the perfect outfits for the Ball, leaving only Avery left to be tended to.
"Ah," says Enzo, "best for last, I take it? Our very own Head Girl, after all."
"Sure?" Avery says hesitantly, bending herself to take a glance at her four friends squishing themselves on the sofa as Enzo measured her.
"You, my dear, are an adventurer, much like your redheaded friend over there," says Enzo, motioning towards Dominique. "You're closest to her, I take it?"
Avery nods in disbelief. They'd already gone through it four times but she was still astounded at how well Enzo could unravel those around him: it was a gift.
"You're very inclined with nature. You're creative, and you have a travellers heart, and you care about the earth. And the creature walking among them. You love to explore, but also make a difference in the process. Yes?"
"Yeah," says Avery, "That just about sums it all up."
Enzo smiles. "Here you are, my dear," he says, adjusting his glasses after having handed Avery three heavy, bedazzling gowns to sample.
With that on the cards, she proceeds and tries on the gowns. They were all good, don't get Avery wrong, but one of them just outsold. It felt like her. It spoke Avery all over, that much she could tell, as she stood long in the mirror, scrutinising her appearance with her hands clutched at either side of her hips. She smiles. She thinks she's found the one.
They also picked out their shoes with help from Enzo's counterpart Mabel, which admittedly took less time. Before long, the five Ravenclaws were at the till and getting their receipts checked out.
"The gowns will be tailored and ready for next Saturday if you girls would like to collect it then," says Mabel, looking at the girls through her glasses on the other side of the checkout. "If there's any problem with the shoes, you're free to return or exchange them, so long as they haven't been worn out."
"Thank you," says Avery, handing over a pouch of money her mother sent her to purchase her outfit. Valerie was very excited at the prospect of Avery organising a Ball, and caught on smugly at how Avery was beginning to enjoy the Head Girl experience. Valerie Carmichael knows when something is gonna unfold, and this time was one of them.
"I hope this won't cause much of an inconvenience, Miss Mabel," Avery apologises. "I know the store will be very busy and your time will be occupied massively with all the students wishing to buy outfits for the Ball."
"Oh, don't be silly, dear!" Mabel replies.
The shopkeeper Mabel, by any means, wasn't as unconventional or out of the box as her brother, but she did hone a deep passion for fashion too. She was a stout woman edging her late-fifties, with grey hair tied in a bun at the nape of her neck and thick-rimmed glasses settled on the crook of her nose. "It'll be absolutely excellent to our business," says Mabel, "If anything, you're doing me and my crazy brother a favour!"
"Really?"
"Absolutely." Mabel smiles, "How are finding being Head Girl?"
"She loves it," cuts in Dominique, slinging an enthusiastic arm around Avery's shoulders. Avery raises an eyebrow at her best friend. At some point, Dominique had joined her best friend after leaving the other three Ravenclaws in the store with them to continue their wild pursuit in trying on the most absurd hats on display at Gladrags, giggling hopelessly amidst their giddy flailing.
"She'll never admit it," Dominique continues, "But she loves to help the people in the school and she's a lot happier about it than she was at the start. So, to answer your question: she loves it."
"What she said," says Avery, a chuckle escaping her mouth.
"Well, that's just swell," Mabel grins, as Enzo emerges from a beaded curtain, billowing from behind his figure. Mabel looks to her brother. "Have you sorted out those racks in the back? The mess was unbearable."
Enzo sighs. "I tried, sister. I tried. But the spirits said something about the mess being there for a reason. I think they want to make a sacrifice. For the greater good. To empower the latest designer prospects. The fashion spirits are saying they must go, Mabes."
"Enough about you and your stupid spirits," says Mabel, an incredulous scoff escaping her. "You're ridiculous. Those racks need tidying. I'll be damned if those clothes go anywhere but on sale, let alone for some absurd nonexistent sacrifice. They cost us a fortune!"
"You do want to please the fashion spirits, don't you?" Enzo questions with a scowl. "If we don't, they'll threaten to take away my designer foresight. What will we do then?"
"Resume business, if anything," Mabel mutters beneath her breath as she finds herself continuously bickering with her brother. "No questions. We all have our own jobs to do. You may be this all-seeing fashion god, but you still need to pick up your weight around here. Go tidy those racks!"
"But—"
"No," says Mabel. "Go. Or I'll take your tape away from you."
Enzo gasps dramatically, a hand raising to his chest, the other securely clutching the measuring tape around his neck. "You wouldn't dare! A tape is a designer's most important tool! To remove that would be to strip me of my designer role and — you wouldn't dare bring such a travesty upon myself!"
"Oh, but I will," says Mabel, nodding. "You see, I can speak to the fashion spirits myself. And from what I'm hearing, they aren't happy that you're neglecting the duties I set you, and would give me permission to remove your tape. They hold me in much higher esteem, brother. Hate to steal your thunder, as the Muggles would say."
Enzo's mouth drops open in horror. "Lies! I am, and have always been the most devoted to the fashion spirits, I—"
"That's what they made you think—"
"You've never once appreciated the power of the fashion spirits! This is a charade—"
"Charade or not, I still need those racks cleaned up—"
Dominique grabs a hold of Avery's elbow, the two deciding it'd be best to leave the shop and the two siblings to their incessant arguing. Before her redhead best friend was able to yank her away, Avery reached over the counter and obtained the brown paper bag containing her shoes and the order number of her tailored gown to be collected next week. They rallied their three friends from their childish modelling of the mental hats on display, the sound of the tinkering bell high above sounding as the door closed behind them.
Now in the frosty streets of pre-winter Hogsmeade, Avery tightens the blue and bronze scarf around her neck as she walks in-line with her friends along the bustling streets, filled with students and locals alike enjoying their weekend.
"Thank Rowena we got out of there," says Avery, "That would've gotten ugly."
"Yeah," Dominique replies, "Imagine working permanently with your sibling." She shudders, "I could never."
"At least the outfits are done," says Hannah, inclining her head towards Avery. "One more thing off of your to-do list."
"And another hundred on mine," Rowan huffs.
"Oh, quit being so stressed!" Dominique says. "You've worked the Quidditch team so hard. You all needed a break today. And I daresay you enjoyed it, Row. For someone who claims to wear one of those tux thing-ma-jigs for her wedding, you sure did look happy twirling around in that gown."
"It was... pretty, okay! I felt like a princess. One that should've been up in the air on a broom, nonetheless, but a princess still."
"Say what you want," says Juliet, "but I am famished. Who wants to head up to the castle for lunch?"
"Don't you mean—" says Avery, "Who wants to head up to the castle so you can go to the kitchens and meet your secret lover? Don't even deny it. We've seen you sneaking away from meals."
Juliet sends Avery an all-knowing look, as of the latter would expose her secret. Avery only grins. She would never. Little did Juliet know, Dominique was now also aware of her fling with Nymphadora Tonks, as if Avery could help that. It wasn't her fault Dominique was such a good detective!
"I'm hungry. What else is there? Let's go eat."
———
THE PERISHING VENTURE BACK UP TO THE CASTLE WAS WORTH IT when the five Ravenclaws were able to be seated on the wooden benches in the Great Hall, surrounded in the warming steam of freshly cooked soups, breads and vegetables. Their stomachs yearned to be satiated with warmth and nourished with something other than Honeydukes sweets, which only went so far until the consumption of raw sugar on an empty stomach took its tool and overwhelmed them with aches. To put things simple — they were glad when they could get some proper food in them, and the Hogwarts house elves could do that and even more.
Now in the Great Hall, Benjamin, Eric and Julian were able to catch up with the girls after having returned from their separate boys trip, claiming they had much more fun. ("Suit yourself," said Hannah, "You lot didn't have the privilege of being served by fashion deities.")
"Okay, so, you know my dog?" Ben says to Avery. With a euphoric smile sure to make someone's day, Benjamin was by far the most compassionate in the group. He was most willing to lend a hand and you couldn't be fooled by his charming grin and adorably combed hair when, quite literally, Benjamin Kipton was an angel. (Not literally, but you get the point.)
She nods. "Dorothy? The brown one who couldn't keep her paws off of me when I came to your house last year?"
(In their brief dating spell which lasted for about five months and ended their first month into sixth year, Avery had gone to Benjamin's house quite a few times, hence her recognition at the mention of Ben's adorable dog. As always, why should there be any animosity when reminiscing on past times solely for the reason of a breakup?)
"Yeah! You remember her?"
"Of course I do? She was an absolute gem! What about her?"
"She's pregnant," says Benjamin.
"Again?" Avery replies, dumbfounded. "How — who — what?"
Ben grins. "I know!"
"Wait, but you seem happy about it?"
"I am!"
"Wait, but — why?" She questions. "This is the third time!"
"Yep," says Ben, "because it means that I will finally have my chance at getting some good money for myself."
"Come again?"
"Okay," says Ben, "Dorothy has been pregnant twice before. And I have two older siblings. Jackson, the idiot and second-oldest, who you've met, and Demi, the oldest, who you haven't met. Naturally, I'm the baby sibling even though I'm of age by now, and naturally, they two were the ones in charge of selling the first two litters. And Merlin, they were rich afterwards. Even if they are as thick as Jackson was. So, naturally, this means I'll be able to sell the litter and get my own money's worth. Those selfish idiots didn't let me in, now it's my turn."
"So, you're saying... you care more about selling the litter than the welfare of your precious dog?"
"Too bloody right."
Avery raises an eyebrow, an incredulous laugh escaping her. "Benjamin Kipton, you are not the innocent cupcake everyone thinks you are. Poor Dorothy."
Ben only lets out a morbid cackle.
As Avery moves to leave the Great Hall, she is abruptly stricken by a hard chest in her attempt to turn away from the table, causing a immediate alarm to rush through her. It dissipates when she realises the person she walked into, who'd been standing right behind her, was Charlie Weasley. With his beautiful grin and composed stature, he looks down at Avery amusedly.
"You need to stop doing that, Charlie," says Avery, a breath whooshing from within her.
"Doing what?" He replies, grinning fickly. "Standing? I wasn't doing anything wrong—"
"Scaring me, Charlie. Scaring me."
"But that's fun. You wouldn't rid me of my entertainment, would you?" He pouts falsely, a deciphered levity depicted in his tone.
Avery sighs, a begrudging smile stretching across her face. "What did you need?"
"Who said I needed anything?" He says deceitfully, "For all you know, I just wanted to entertain myself and watch you shit yourself over me—"
"Charlie—"
"Okay, fine." He sighs, an enthralled demeanour preceding all five-foot-nine of his athletic figure. Avery didn't know how, but Charlie always managed to make everything seem so... lighthearted. It's like, you're gloomy, and in a room of darkness, and then this Weasley boy enters and suddenly lightbulbs have flashed. She didn't know how he did it. But it was remarkable.
(Reason number one hundred and fifty-eight why Charlie Weasley was one of the most remarkable people she knew, Avery makes a mental note of.)
"Minnie said she wanted to see us," says Charlie.
Avery raises an eyebrow. "Minnie?"
"McGonagall," confirms Charlie, red creeping up his slightly abashed expression. "Professor McGonagall wants to see us."
"Oh. Any clue why?"
Charlie shrugs his shoulders. He looks to the rest of the group sat at the wooden table, amidst a chattering hoard of other students. "You guys okay if I steal her for a bit?"
Perking up, Dominique grins. "She's all yours."
Charlie smiles. Before leaving with Avery in tow, he looks back, his gaze in the direction of Rowan Hamilton.
"Good luck for the quidditch game next week, Rowan," he tells her, a serene beam across him that was sure to confuse the blonde.
Eventually, with her eyebrows furrowed and looking to the rest of her friends for confirmation, Rowan comes out with, "Oh — thanks, Weasley."
Charlie gives her one last smile before departing. As they enter the Entrance Hall, Avery turns to him.
"Good day?"
Charlie grins. He still wasn't entirely used to friendly gestures being reciprocated back to him. But it was definitely something he would want to get used to.
"Not bad," says Charlie, "working on stuff for the Halloween Ball... teaching Roy not to be a dickhead... homework... a typical Saturday, if you ask me. You?"
"I was in Hogsmeade," Avery replies, "buying my outfit for the Ball."
"Oh, yeah? How did that go?"
Avery grimaces, unable to stop the laughter that escapes her at the reminisce of the bizarre Enzo and the slightly more mature Mabel.
"It was... eventful, to say the least," Avery eventually lets out, amused. Charlie tilts his head in her direction curiously. "The shopkeepers of Gladrags, Mabel and Enzo," she begins, "are... mental. Well, Enzo at least. He's so... spiritual? Like, before he started helping us with our fittings he did this whole meditation thing and claimed to call upon the fashion spirits, or whatever? He was bizarre. If anything, he's more devoted to the fashion deities than Hannah is to the stars."
"Oh," says Charlie, chuckling (for he had no clue what Hannah's astronomical obsession entailed, but he could gather these shopkeepers were eccentric in the least).
"Yeah," says Avery. "It's all good though, I found the perfect dress.
"That's good," Charlie smiles, before looking down to his feet. "I — erm — I was wondering something."
Avery looks curiously in his direction. "What's up?"
He takes a deep, courageous inhale, before asking, "Why did you and Benjamin split up?"
The question takes Avery by slight surprise, so much that she stiffens momentarily in their walk to Professor McGonagall's office before resuming the natural strides. For Charlie to be asking this question strikes Avery madly. It was completely... random. But she didn't necessarily blame him for bringing up the topic when she'd mentioned her and Benjamin's affiliations with each other quite a few nights before. Only question is: why did he ask it?
"...Why do you ask?"
"I saw you two at the Ravenclaw table laughing over something together," says Charlie, "and I just thought about how compatible you guys seemed to be together. And thought, what on earth could cause you two to break something like that up when you two clearly had something... good."
Avery sighs, but can't help smiling. Her and Benjamin were compatible. They get on, they respect each other, they make one another laugh and make one another feel special. It's just as Charlie said — what could break up something that good? Truth is, both Avery and Ben had eventually felt like something was... missing. Something crucial. Something worth continuing a relationship for. That was the reason they were no longer together. But it didn't mean that they would forfeit all relations with each other — Avery and Ben were friends once; they could be friends again.
"I suppose... something was missing," Avery admits. "Me and Ben were always gonna be friends, no matter what, and eventually it made sense that we were never gonna be the one for each other. Just because two people are compatible, doesn't mean they should be together."
"The one?" A grin crawls up Charlie's face, as he recalls, "You mean, with the typical heart-swelling-euphoric-fluttering feeling?"
Avery lets out an exclamation of shock. "You watch your mouth, mister!" Charlie dodges a rapidly approaching swat of the arm from Avery, re-emerging with a complacent smirk. Avery narrows her eyes at him in the first place. "Why were you even watching me and Ben in the first place? Jealous?"
"Of you, or Ben?" Charlie jokes, a hint of incredulity present. "No way. We all know my one true love will be dragons, and dragons only."
Avery nods her head, tutting incessantly, before looking in his direction. He was grinning.
As they ventured on towards the office of their Scottish teacher, they were fortunately stopped in advance by the woman herself, McGonagall strutting their way from her office a fair distance away. Professor McGonagall, Avery was beginning to realise, was... cool. She'd gotten a lot closer to her while being Head Girl, what with all the tasks and requirements and both Charlie and Avery converting their Friday lunchtime with McGonagall into a weekly Head prefect meeting, they got along. McGonagall was more laid back than most, even if she was a bit strict. And she had good banter. (All Scot's had good banter, in Avery's mind. It was a Scottish thing.)
"Good, you're here," says McGonagall, a pointed hat atop her thin, ageing frame, overlaying with traditional tartan robes.
"What did you need us for, Professor?" Avery asks.
McGonagall smiles. "Someone has completely dislocated one of the portraits in the Gryffindor common room. It's likely that someone could injure themselves, so can I count on you two to fix it back to its proper place?"
Avery nods, happy to oblige. While Charlie groans oppositely. Both McGonagall and Avery raise an eyebrow in his direction.
"Why us?" Charlie protests.
"Because, Charlie," says McGonagall, completely disparaged, "Being Head Boy has its responsibilities. This is one of them."
"Couldn't you have asked someone else?"
"Yes." McGonagall's face was straight, impartial. "But I'm asking you."
"But—"
Avery cuts him off, grabbing ahold of his upper arm warningly. She smiles at her teacher. "We'll do it."
McGonagall beams. "Excellent. Good afternoon, to you both."
Giving one last grin to her teacher, and dragging Charlie away, Avery sends a look in his direction.
"What was all that about?" She beseeches.
"Nothing—?"
Avery rolls her eyes. "Oh, sure. Seems like Mr Perfect isn't as perfect as he seems."
Charlie holds his hands in a surrender. "Your words, not mine."
They come to a halt outside of the portrait of the infamous Fat Lady. Avery couldn't lie, she was... intrigued to enter the Gryffindor common room. She'd only ever been in her own, the Ravenclaw common room, so this was a first. She always built an idea within her head that it would be filled with lions (real, or fake, you ask the machinery inside Avery's mind), and that there would be this bright red incandescence wavering throughout the room. By any means, she was sure that it wouldn't be as blue, or celestial, or filled with as much literature as the Ravenclaw common room. But, she was still sure that that of Gryffindor would be homely in its own ways.
"Welcome to Gryffindor," says Charlie, after having uttered the password to the Fat Lady, holding an arm out.
Avery chuckles as she enters, before finding her eyes widening in the presence of the prestigious Gryffindor common room. Perhaps it was because it was the pristine opposite of that in Ravenclaw, or perhaps because it truly was a marvel. The place was red in its entirety, and Avery's presumption was right.
(Not the part about there being real lions present in the place... what on Earth could've made Avery think they'd have been able to keep live lions in a place where students exist, no one had any clue.)
A cacophony of chatter surrounded the place, alight in rouge furnishings and leisurely weekending students, occupied playing wizards chess with terse competitiveness, sprawled across plush sofas and engaging with one another jovially. A burning hearth, flickering with bright and colourful embers, numerous armchairs, stool tables and enlightening lamps scattered throughout the room. There was only one word for it, and that word was majestic. It well and truly was the lion's den. (Minus the lions, of course — that's already been established, though.)
Charlie notices the bewilderment in Avery's expression, and sends a grin her way. "Does it meet your expectations?"
Slowly, Avery nods. "It's... it's great."
He smiles at her awe of the place, before his eyes wandered down to a bustling third year finding himself in front of the Head Boy, fighting haplessly with his boyish mood.
"Everything okay, Oli?" Charlie asks a somewhat eager Oliver Wood. With his small height, coming up to just below Avery's chin, the young third year was bouncing enthusiastically on his feet, with a clutch of papers between his hands.
"I've made a bunch of Quidditch plays for the game in a couple of weeks," says Oliver, holding out the papers to Charlie. He didn't pay a second glance to Avery. Avery hadn't noticed this before, but Oliver Wood was Scottish. She could recognise that accent anywhere, having grown up in the homely country herself.
With a slight grimace, Charlie accepts the bundle handed to him, squinting as he tried to make out Oliver's unkempt handwriting. "Thanks, Oli... but the game isn't till two weeks away? You don't need to worry about this just yet... I have it all handled, yeah?"
"Okay, but just... please take them into consideration?" Oliver pleads, a desperate scrunch of the eyebrows preceding him. "Please?" Avery smiles. She was... touched his passionate acts for his love of quidditch.
"Of course I will," says Charlie, smiling genially, clapping an arm to the other boy's shoulder, "Keep doing what you're doing, Oli. You're gonna be a remarkable captain for Gryffindor one day, I can already tell. But, I'm a bit busy right now—" he gestures to Avery "—so I'll look over these later, yeah?" Oliver nods, exercising a toothy grin, before speeding off to his own business. Charlie looks to Avery, "Now about this fallen painting—"
"Over there," says Avery, having already found it. She points to a wall with a small table against it with a couple of stools, along with an unoccupied chess board. And rightly enough, there was a lopsided painting hanging off one of the hinges. The painting seemed to have emptied itself of its contents, apart from the centrepiece table, which laid unoccupied. It kind of reminds Avery of the painting The Last Supper, which she recalls studying in her religious studies class back when she attended a muggle primary school before Hogwarts. (Of course, she hoped the people within that painting didn't have as much of a grim ending as those in The Last Supper...)
"Brilliant," Charlie voices monotonously. They walk over to the space, and Avery found it hard not to notice the weirded out looks people all around her were giving at her apparent blatancy of her not being a Gryffindor. She ignores this, though. Or smiles at them in retaliation. One or the other.
"It's a bit high up..." Avery says as she observes the scene, "One of us should stay down and give directions on the positioning, the other should go up on the stool, I suppose?"
Charlie nods, confirming her interpretation of the predicament. "Should I stay down and help guide the portrait back in place, or—?"
"Why? Scared of the height?"
Charlie narrows his eyes at the teasing manner with which Avery was talking to her in. "No," he spat incredulously, "You do realise you're accusing someone studying dragons after Hogwarts of being scared of heights?"
Avery smirks. "What, then?"
"You just seem to have a bigger death wish than I do."
"Oh?"
"And," says Charlie, a grin itching up his face, "You'll need someone to catch you when you inadvertently fall."
Avery's mouth drops open, making an exclamation of offence. "I'm not going to—"
"Charlie, mate!"
Perhaps Charlie should've been thankful for the abrupt arrival of his best friend, seemingly coming out of nowhere and throwing an arm around the ginger's shoulders. Roy saved Charlie from facing Avery's possible wrath.
"Hey, Roy." Charlie greets, throwing a beam towards the taller boy.
Avery perks up. She'd never properly met Roy before, even if they had been attending the same school for the last seven years. A note about Hogwarts students... if they weren't your friends, and if you weren't in the same house, people in other houses didn't really... interact that much? It's probably why Avery had hardly known Charlie before the whole Head Boy — Head Girl ordeal.
"Ah, you must be the Head Girl?" Roy says amusedly, holding a hand out with an unnecessary act of formality. "Avery, right?"
Avery presses her lips into a thin smile, before meeting his hands with her own, "Yeah, it is. Roy Rothchild, the Life Coach?"
Roy's mouth outstretches into a large grin. "In the flesh. I've heard a lot about you."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah," Roy quips, "Like how before I came in the picture, you and Charlie were nothing but cold, blunt responses and that you were a cold, frosty, bit—"
"Roy, you dickhead, shut up—" Another voice cuts in, and Nymphadora Tonks along with her bright hairdo enters the group, her eyes narrowed in the direction of the tall, handsome boy. She stuck out as the only Hufflepuff in the room, despite them being out of their uniform and in weekend clothes. "Ignore him," Tonks tells Avery, "He didn't get enough attention as a child. Or teaching, either. That's why we're here. Doesn't seem to be working, though..."
Avery brushes it off with a chuckle, "Don't worry about it, Tonks. He wasn't wrong."
"You didn't let me finish!" Roy whines petulantly. Avery, Charlie and Tonks raises their eyes curiously towards Roy. "I said before you were this cold-frosty-bitch," says Roy, "Now, you are... a changed person." He smiles, "It's nothing but good things now. And I'm glad."
Avery smiles at Roy.
"What are you two doing here?" Tonks asks. Her question was more directed towards Avery because, as obvious as it could be, Charlie being in his own common room came as no surprise. Avery however, did.
"Minnie told us to fix this portrait," Charlie explains. He grins smugly, "She trusts us the most."
"Five minutes ago you were trying to get out of doing this!" Avery interjects in disbelief.
"Yeah, well—"
"Gotta do what Minnie tells you, yeah?" Roy adds.
"I suppose, but—"
"Let's fix the portrait," says Avery. Charlie sighs petulantly. She pulls out a stool from beneath the chess table and brings it to the left of the portrait, standing high above them all and grabbing a corner of the aslant frame. She looks down to Charlie. "Do you think you could grab it and push it up so I can slide it over the hook?"
"Sure," Charlie agrees, pushing the bottom of the frame higher so that Avery could replace it on its other hinge.
"How's that?" Avery asks, taking a small step back on her tiptoes to confirm the alignment.
"A little to the right, I'd say."
"Now?"
"Up a little."
"She has an even bigger death wish than you, mate," Roy mutters to Charlie, witnessing Avery on her tiptoes on the high stool, which was making small tremble movements.
"I know," Charlie agrees with a lighthearted snigger, "I'm just waiting until I have to catch her when she falls."
(Oh? Roy thinks craftily.)
"Now?" Avery asks, bringing Charlie out of his exchange with Roy. He pretends to mime out a frame in his eyes, squinting his eyes scrutinisingly when really, the portrait was absolutely perfect. It's inhabitants were even returning. And for some reason, the inhabitants of the very common room seemed to find a sort of... entertainment in watching the Head Boy and Head Girl fix a portrait, like they had nothing better to do with their Saturday time...
"It's perfect," Charlie grins.
"Perfect." Avery smiles, a content satisfaction present, adjusting herself to step down from the high stool.
But then, just as she lifted a leg up to whisk herself around, she felt the legs of the stool fall lopsidedly onto one side, and Avery found herself falling backwards, with only one thought in mind:
Holy fuck.
She expected to fall. She did fall. She expected to crack her head open and be sent to the Hospital Wing for a week on end. But she didn't crack her head open. She didn't hit the ground at all. She was... cushioned... by something... or someone.
Avery elicits a sharp gasp when she realises she'd fallen directly into Charlie's arms. With a musky scent being recognised at this proximity, one of his strong, weathered arms was looped around her back while the other held her legs. Her cheeks began to become blistering heated when she noticed the audience they'd attracted: nearly every Gryffindor in the common room — and Tonks— witnessed the topple of the stool and the topple of Avery backwards into the strong forelimbs of Charlie.
And she realises this time that it's so difficult not to get lost in the cascading seas that are his eyes. They were so alluring, so enticing, so... beautiful. It was as if she was drowning in the evanescent and materialising cerulean waves, but it didn't feel like she was drowning. When someone drowns, they're afraid, sceptical, but Avery... she felt safe. Somehow, Charlie made it seem like he wouldn't let any harm come to her, and with that feeling in mind... she didn't mind being stuck in the depths that were his orbs. With a gaze like his, he seemed to be able to see right through Avery, as if there were no coverings shadowing her; but somehow, Avery didn't mind that either. She didn't mind Charlie. She trusted him.
"Hi," says Charlie.
"Hi," says Avery. Her voice was tight, and raspy.
Their faces were inches apart, and even though they were in a room full of people watching this beguiling scene, neither of them seemed to have moved a muscle ever since Avery dropped down into Charlie's intricately moulded arms. They just... stayed there.
"I didn't think I would actually have to ca—"
"This, ladies and gentlemen, is why you can trust your amazing Head Boy with your life!" Roy yells throughout the common room, an exuberant grin sprawled across his face as he obtains a large bout of unnecessary applause filled their ears from the inhabitants of the common room, who were each deeply interested in the scene at hand. "He saved the Head Girl from an impending death! Is there nothing this boy can do?"
"Roy, shut up." Charlie goads. The applauding was still continuing, even after Roy dropped himself on one of the sofas, appearing somewhat satisfied.
"Um, Charlie—" The applause soon ceased to exist and this left Avery to realise that she was still being held bridal-style in Charlie's arms.
"Oh, sorry—" Charlie stumbles upon his words as he realises the same fact as Avery. He bends his knees, lowering Avery to her feet. At some point, her arm had snaked itself around his neck, brushing against the uneven ends of ginger hair at the nape of his neck. Her arm lingered there for a second until she realises that holy shit my arm is still around him and recoils it sharply, the arm springing back as if he was a white-hot metal plate.
"Thanks," says Avery, "That's the second time you've saved me, I—"
"Don't mention it," Charlie says quickly, gulping thickly. There was a thick layer of awkward tension hanging in the atmosphere between them, more especially at the reminder of the last time they'd shared such a moment of intimacy when he'd come to her aid. "I — uh — we've fixed it, so can you wait outside and give me a minute? I need to tell Roy something—"
"Sure," says Avery. "That's... that's fine."
Charlie nods and gives her a haste smile as she departs. He looks to his friend, laying down complacently on the couch with his head on a completely opposing Tonks' lap. He walks up to Roy, and smacks his head.
"Charlie, what the fuck?" Roy exclaims indignantly, a hand reaching to his head. His eyes widen, "Oh, shit, there's first years here." After grimacing, he looks back to Charlie with his eyebrows knitted crossly. "What was that for?"
"You very well know what!" Charlie says hotly, glaring towards Roy.
(Roy did, in fact, happen to know what Charlie was fussing over. Before the scene of the day happened, Roy sneakily edged over to the stool Avery was standing on top of, and happened to push one of the legs so that the stool became unbalanced and Avery fell down with it. It was a foul move, but Roy had his reasons. And the fact Charlie witnessed it all — Roy wasn't that discreet, his smirk gave it all away — was the reason Charlie was able to make it in time to hold his arms out for Avery to fall back in.)
"No idea what you're talking about, mate." Roy says obliviously, shaking his head without a hint of remorse. He bit back a laugh.
"Roy, give it up," Charlie sighs defiantly, "I saw you make the stool fall. You made her fall!"
"Did I?" Roy grins, "Okay, I did. I'm sorry, mate. But, you caught her anyways."
"Only because I got there in time! What if I didn't?"
"But you did. You caught her, like you said you would."
"But what if I didn't?"
Roy smirks self-assuredly. "That would never have happened, mate. Me and you both know it. In any universe, you would've caught her. That's just the type of guy you are."
Charlie lets out a deep exhale. "You... you're impossible." He looks to Tonks, "Back me up here?"
Tonks chuckles. She throws a deafening glare Roy's way. "Roy, that was a dickwad move. Never do it again." But she begins smiling again, "But Roy isn't wrong. You wouldn't have let her fall like that. And if anything... she probably does trust you more."
"See!" Roy exclaims with a gleeful chuckle, "I am amazing."
Charlie and Tonks throw an unconvinced glance his way.
"You dickheads," Roy mutters.
"Charlie!" At once, two familiar voices call out in unison, and Charlie is faves with his identical first year brothers, grinning mischievously.
"Mini Weasleys!" Roy exclaims, high-fiving both the twins.
"Hey Freddie, Georgie," Charlie grins, "What's up?"
"That catch!" Fred gasps, "That was heroic. You saved Avery's life!"
"I shouldn't have had to," seethes Charlie, his teeth gritted as he looked scathingly in Roy's direction (who only smirked and shrugged his shoulders), "But thanks. Is there anything else?"
"This!" George grins, taking a piece of folded parchment out of his pocket and handing it to their older brother. "Can you give it to Avery and get her to pass it onto her friend Juliet?"
(Tonks stiffens up at the familiar name. Lucky for her, she missed the smirk Charlie threw her way. She still didn't know that Charlie knew of her and Juliet — all she knew from Juliet is that Avery found out through a birdie. She didn't exactly think that birdie was her best friend.)
Charlie narrows his eyes at his brothers. "Should I be worried?"
There were identical hints of mischief depicting exactly that. Nonetheless, they both grin and Fred says, "Never."
"You'd never snitch on us, anyways," says George confidently.
Charlie sighs, eliciting a laugh at his brothers. He rubs a hand tirelessly over his face. "Okay," he says, "I'll do that."
"You're the best, Charlie!" Fred says as they both scamper off elsewhere to commit whatever mischief they have in mind.
"I love those guys," says Roy. "What do they need Juliet for? She is so ho—"
"Say that word and I will rip your head off, Roy." Tonks says. Roy's eyes widen. He was used to hearing Tonks' aggravation over his manners, and this came out as no different for him — but for Juliet, entirely. That was her girlfriend, for heavens sake.
Charlie grins at Tonks.
"The twins are working with Juliet with their pranks," Charlie says, "Merlin knows why I haven't done anything about it yet."
"That is... troublesome." Roy says, his eyes wide with exasperation.
"Yeah," Charlie chuckles, "I'll be back. I have to give this to Avery and take her back to her friends."
"Oh?" Roy grins.
"Yeah?"
"Can she not go to her friends herself?" He asks teasingly.
"Yes, she can," says Charlie. "But it's like you guys said. This is the kind of person that I am. And I need to give her this— stop looking at me like that!"
"Roy, quit it," Tonks smacks the boy on his arm. She smiles at Charlie, "It's sweet."
Charlie throws a puzzled look her way. "...What's sweet?" No answer from Tonks lead Charlie to being even more confused. "No, seriously. What's sweet?"
Tonks grins. "You're not ready to find out... just yet."
"I... cannot deal with you guys," Charlie huffs exasperatedly under his breath, walking away from the two amused seventh years seated on the sofa.
What did Tonks mean by sweet? And what on earth was Roy playing at by making Avery fall like that? And why on earth can he not get the image, the sensation, of Avery, that beautiful, alluring girl, held within his arms, her arm around his neck exercising the most sensitive, provoking of touches — why can he not get this image out of his head? Charlie has absolutely no clue. It was the same feeling he felt when he saved her from falling off of that ladder — the same feeling when their hands inadvertently clashed. The same... electricity. But what did it mean for Charlie? And what did it mean for them?"
And Avery didn't know what she was feeling, as she walked away and towards the portrait. Was it gratitude? Definitely gratitude — Charlie just saved her from a doomsday death! But... she didn't know what that other feeling was... It was a feeling that sparked the first time she was able to look into his orbs and see his vulnerable, softened nature. But after that... the feeling seemed to have resurfaced, whether it was minimal or not. She didn't know what exactly the emotion was... but she didn't know if she wanted to delve in and find out, either.
It... did something to her — looking into his eyes. Feeling his touch. And Avery wasn't sure what.
***
this chapter made me go 🙈😼😌
SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN SO LONG THO!!! school's a bitch ugh
also cassia readers there'll likely be an update tomorrow or tuesday hopefully!! im trying my best💓
fr tho the way charlie caught avery it lowkey reminds me of dctv!superman&lois in the elseworlds crossover
i got reminded of them asjsjsjs i love them fr fr && i love my babies avery and charlie 💓💓💓💓 i can't wait for the superman&lois show omg
i literally loved writing this chapter sm omg. and the scene in gladrags made me LAUGH bc honestly i wanted it to be something ENTERTAINING like something out of the ordinary clothes fitting thing and i think enzo & mabel did exactly that🥰🤚🏼 enzo gives me hannah vibes tho>>
i hope you guys liked this!!! honestly i love writing for avery and charlie and i hope you guys like reading them. and this was one of my favourite chapters to write!!!