The mist covering the slick grass slowly dissipated under the dawning sun's rays. The morning was more frigid than most had been in the past few weeks, yet the pleasant contrast between the cool shade and the warm sunlight made it bearable. Even if the weather were dreadful, it would have made no difference in the general mood of the school's inhabitants. After all, it was the day before the departure of the Hogwarts Express. A long year full of ups and downs had finally come to a close, and most were eager to escape the castle for a little while.
On this day, Edmund found himself rubbing his palms together to get rid of the last remnants of chilliness affecting his bones. His problem was solved by a large homemade ceramic mug shoved into his hands, the hot butterbeer in it heating up his fingers quickly.
"Thank you, Hagrid," he smiled brightly, getting a careless wave in response.
"Yes," a voice came from beside him after a large gulp. "Thanks, Hagrid."
Luna's gratitude came a little late, considering she had already emptied half her cup, the foamy residue forming a mustache above her lips.
Edmund stifled a laugh, blowing out the hot air in his mouth, watching as the steam obscured his vision. A lazy swish of his wand turned the vapour into a tiny thestral, flapping its wings about in the hut before it eventually dispersed.
Hagrid clapped a couple of times in appreciation of the magic while Luna tilted her head to the side to give it her full attention.
The trio sat in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the sounds of the birds chirping and the trees swaying in the wind.
"Ah...," the half-giant sighed contentedly as he took another sip. "This is the good stuff. I can never get it quite as good as what Rosie makes, though, down in Hogsmeade."
"Oh!" Edmund jerked in remembrance as he rummaged through his usual non-expanded backpack. "I knew I was forgetting something."
Eventually, he recovered a crystal phial from near the bottom, the contents of which glowed brightly even while directly in the light.
"It's moon dew," he explained as he uncorked the stopper carefully.
The substance was the nectar of a flower that only bloomed at night under the moon's shine. The plant was difficult to grow in controlled environments, which meant that specimens were solely found in the wild. It only made the essence that much rarer and sought after.
"It's what Madam Rosmerta uses to make the extra sweet butterbeer she sells. It's too expensive for most people to buy, so it's only ever used at major functions." Edmund poured a small drop into all three drinks, swirling them around to mix them properly. "But! If I'm not wrong, she makes her regular butterbeer in the same casks as the premium one, so you still get a hint of the flavour in what she serves at the Three Broomsticks."
Handing their beverages back to them, Edmund twirled with an exaggerated flourish. "Et voilà!"
The two consumed the rest of their butterbeer in a flash, with Edmund only slightly behind.
"Consider it my apology for spending less time with you these past couple of months. Things have been a little hectic," Edmund said with a bow after they began thanking him.
"Bah!" Hagrid grunted. "Don't worry! You're a firstie! You've got to have fun, enjoy your free time while you still have some. We don't mind! Right, Luna?"
"Well... We mind a little," Luna replied with a slightly mischievous smile. "But if you give us three, no, wait, four! Four more butterbeers like that, you can consider your debt repaid!"
Edmund chuckled, shaking his head in mock dismay at his "punishment." He would miss seeing the two of them regularly over the next several months.
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- (Scene Break) -
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Leaves crunched under Edmund's feet as he ambled through the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
"Things are alright for now, but I don't know what the dark lord has planned for next year. He is happy with me presently, but that only means his demands and expectations will grow," he described troubledly.
Beside him, another set of legs made similar sounds, though their pattern was much different from his. The speaker let out a deliberating hum, her pace slowing down even further.
"The war will bring with it a new set of problems. Greater challenges," she summarized.
Edmund made to protest, but she cut him off with a glare.
"War will come. Whether it is now or later. Voldemort may have changed his methods, but his goals remain the same. Domination of magical Britain will never go unopposed, not while wizards like Dumbledore and Potter are around," the speaker warned in a manner that could not be argued against.
"Yes," Edmund admitted. "I will need to work harder. Move faster. For now, I am safe. But if either side discovers the 'truth,' I will not be. I need something to give me an edge. Something neither the dark lord nor Dumbledore has seen before. Something they will find difficult to counter."
"Sounds like an easy enough task," the speaker laughed derisively before her tone turned warmer. "You have some time still. You survived a year. Take courage in that accomplishment."
"Yes," Edmund accepted calmly.
"You deserve a good break," she ruffled his hair. "Just don't let yourself stagnate."
The two met each other's eyes before they burst out laughing at the hilarity of her last sentence.
*-*-*-*
- (Scene Break) -
*-*-*-*
Sitting in McGonagall's office, Edmund watched as the piles of paperwork on her desk were completed with clinical efficiency.
"If you're the one doing all this administrative work, what exactly is the headmaster's job?" he asked jokingly.
McGonagall huffed with amusement. "To sit there and look pretty while eating his muggle candies," she said irritatedly. However, the note of fondness colouring the words betrayed her true feelings. "Albus, for all his faults, is no slacker. How he manages all his positions while publishing multiple academic studies every year is beyond me. The man is a machine, as I believe the muggles like to say."
"You sound very hip," Edmund reassured teasingly with a patronizing pat on her hands.
With a hiss, the professor transfigured the seat he was sitting on out from underneath him in response to his taunts, causing him to slip. Instantly, he flicked his wand, and the remnants of the four-legged chair were transformed into a stool below him.
He looked back up to the professor with a victorious smirk but was only met with narrowed eyes.
He grimaced in realization of the implications of his actions. The speed with which he had responded was far greater than the prowess he had been showing McGonagall during their lessons.
He hung his head, dreading the conversation that was to come.
"You have been holding back on me," she commented neutrally. Too emotionlessly to be normal, indicating to Edmund that she had engaged her occlumency.
"Yes," he confessed.
"Why?" McGonagall asked, and a bit of the hurt she had been trying to conceal slipped through with the syllable.
"I was worried what you would think about me," Edmund explained, his gaze still firmly on the ground. "I thought my desire to learn and to progress so fast would scare you. I didn't want my love of magic to make you mistrustful of me."
A few seconds passed, and then Edmund suddenly found himself wrapped up in the older woman's arms.
He tried to talk, but she shushed him, implicitly asking him to let her speak first.
"My dear boy," she soothed as she rubbed his back. "Magical power is not a sign of darkness. I have said this before and will say it as often as you need to hear it. I am proud of who you are, just as you are."
Edmund tightened his arms around her, holding her even closer.
"While some may use their power for harm, others will use it for good. It all depends on what they have in here," McGonagall pointed at Edmund's heart. "And if there's one thing I know, it's the strength of your character, Edmund Cole. Never doubt that," she finished hoarsely.
He nodded fiercely, ignoring the moisture building up behind his eyelids.
The two held each other for a while longer before McGonagall smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "You rascal! On one hand, you comment about how busy I am, and on the other, you waste my time every week during our lessons? Have you no shame? Now I see. How can someone always fail the first attempt at a new spell, do better on the second, and perfect it on the third? You think you're clever?"
She continued to smack him with each sentence, making Edmund wince each time she did so.
"Ow!"
"Ow, ow, ow!"
"Ok, ok, I'm sorry, alright?"
"Now you're just taking unfair advantage of the situation. I will report you to Dumbledore, believe me!
"Stop it already!"
Despite his whining, the blossoming joyful feeling in his chest could not be repressed.
If you have any thoughts, or things you would like to see happen in the story, please share!
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As you may have noticed, my diction is decent, while my syntax is awful. Please do not hesitate to point out any mistakes I make with a paragraph comment or a general chapter comment!
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Thank you for reading!