Mirror, Mirror (A Narnia/HP Crossover Fic)
Originally posted in xover_exchange.
Title: Mirror, Mirror
Author: turkeyish
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Narnia
Characters: Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley; Lucy Pevensie, Susan Pevensie, Peter Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie
Pairings: Hints of Ron/Hermione, Edmund/Ginny
Rating: G
Word count: ~2,500
Spoilers: Through book seven of Harry Potter and book seven of Narnia.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Narnia belong to their respective creators.
A/N: Thank you to my fabulous beta and the equally fabulous mods for working with me down to the wire. I hope I did your prompt some measure of justice, Dear Recipient! Your prompts were so fun, it was hard to choose one.
Summary: Lucy finds Platform 9 ¾.
Mirror, Mirror
I.
It started, as usual, with Lucy. All of the Pevensie children hated the beginnings of school terms, but Lucy hated them most of all. The beginning of a new school term meant packing, and a journey to the station, and unbearably long train rides that would take her farther and further away from her siblings. Nobody at school ever liked to discuss fauns as enthusiastically as she did, she had learned over the years.
And so it started on a cold, grey, drizzling sort of morning that is not unusual in London. The Pevensie children were sleepy, and they were bored, and Edmund had just beat Lucy to the last bit of space on the hard bench that Peter and Susan were already sharing.
“Imagine if the wood used for that bench had been taken from a dryad’s tree,” Lucy said haughtily.
“You can’t make me feel guilty enough to give up this seat, Lu, sorry,” Edmund said with an unrepentant grin.
Lucy scowled, though there wasn’t much heat in the expression. Stone pillars surely couldn’t be any worse than thick slabs of wood, she reasoned to herself as she leaned one small shoulder against the closest column. Their platform was quite empty save the Pevensies themselves, but she didn’t want to wander off by herself.
Only she didn’t so much lean as begin to topple over. Onto the side that should have been supported by a large stone pillar.
And Lucy’s wide eyes beheld a small plaque set high above a large and noisy crowd filled not only with human chatter, but also rather annoyed owl hoots: Platform 9 ¾.
Lucy turned her gaze to Edmund, who had a strong hold on one of her arms, and her eyes went even wider.
“Ed,” Lucy gasped, “your other half - ”
“ - is beyond this pillar,” Edmund finished conversationally.
He tugged with the arm not holding hers, and Peter stepped through the pillar, followed by Susan, who, in her usual unflappable manner, had had the presence of mind to bring the trolley holding their luggage through with her.
“I’m rather sure this train doesn’t go to school,” Susan said dryly.
“I agree,” Peter said with a glint in his eye that hadn’t been seen there for a while. “Shall we?”
And so it was that within five minutes of Lucy falling through a pillar, the Pevensies, without batting an eyelash, were comfortably settled in a compartment on the sleek red train.
“The Hogwarts Express,” Susan said, looking thoughtful. “What an odd name.”
+
Lucy wandered the length of the train corridor, ostensibly on a mission to find the loo.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lucy said as she nearly collided with a girl who had just exited a compartment.
“Hello,” the other girl said, her wide eyes studying Lucy curiously. “I’m Luna Lovegood.”
“And I’m Lucy Pevensie,” Lucy said, holding her hand out for a friendly shake.
Luna seemed not to notice the offer and simply continued to stare, although it didn’t seem to be for hostile reasons - and so Lucy unabashedly stared back.
“You’re new,” Luna finally said after a long silence, and “I like you.”
II.
Susan followed Lucy and Luna along a long corridor at a more sedate pace, smiling faintly each time she caught traces of their conversation.
“I think each person has a certain animal within them,” Luna said matter-of-factly, tiny plastic radishes dangling from her ears.
“So do I,” Lucy breathed. “Some people are rabbits or foxes, while others are - ”
“ - lions or horses,” Luna finished, beaming at her new friend.
The two girls turned a corner, and Susan was left alone with her thoughts.
The Pevensies had disembarked the train to find a tall, stern-looking woman waiting for them on the platform.
“Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall, and you will come with me.”
“Professor McGonagall,” Peter said, using the special charming voice he saved for handling others, whether they were young satyrs or worldly dowagers, “we’re the - ”
“I know exactly who you are, Peter Pevensie,” McGonagall interrupted severely, though a slight smile tugged at her pursed lips.
Hogwarts was a school for magic, the Pevensies had learned, and the reason they had been allowed to stay, as the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, had explained with a benign twinkle in his eye, was that the Pevensies seemed to possess an aura of more than a little magic themselves.
Hogwarts was a stunning castle, obviously extremely old but full of interesting character, and somehow it reminded Susan of Cair Paravel, she thought with a pang to her heart that she usually refused to let herself feel.
Entering what she had been told was the Great Hall, she made her way past the crowded tables to an empty seat situated between Peter and Edmund, aware all the while of the curious whispers and not-unfriendly stares that followed her along the way.
“We’re to stay with one of the houses, Gryffindor,” Peter whispered to her as she sat down. “Except Lucy, who will stay with Luna and Ravenclaw.”
Susan nodded and focused her attention first on the headmaster’s welcome speech, which included introductions of and explanations for the Pevensies, and then on the sumptuous feast.
She noticed with interest that the golden goblets seemed to refill themselves automatically whenever needed.
“Think of how useful this would have been back in Narnia,” Susan said to Peter, making her older brother grin.
+
The Pevensies didn’t have wands, and so couldn’t take part in the practical portions of the lessons, but they could certainly take part in the theory portions.
The one exception was Potions, which didn’t require a wand at all. Susan found Potions to be both soothing and familiar, as it reminded her of all her time spent in the kitchens of Cair Paravel, brewing salves and balms and other assorted potions used to ease her brothers’ various aches and pains in the aftermath of battle.
Even Professor Snape, who it was whispered was the most fearsome and demanding of all the professors, seemed impressed by Susan’s keen grasp of concepts and sure hands.
The only other person that Professor Snape even hinted at praising was one Hermione Granger. She was quite pretty, Susan noted, although the other girl had a habit of hiding behind her untamed mane.
Susan also didn’t fail to notice that Hermione seemed to grow more and more disgruntled with each question that Susan answered correctly.
“She’s the head of her class - and a few others, at that,” Lucy said as she perused the latest edition of The Quibbler, gifted to her by Luna. “But now you’re proving to be a considerable threat to that status.”
“Yes, dear, I know,” Susan said gently, turning the matter over and over in her mind.
+
Susan had never been immune to boys’ attentions, and Hogwarts certainly wasn’t proving to be the exception.
And then one Ron Weasley asked her if she’d like to sit with him and his friends during the first Quidditch match of the season.
Susan politely demurred, electing instead to take advantage of the empty archery range.
“He asked you to sit with him, didn’t he?” a voice demanded as Susan examined the available bows and arrows. Susan turned to find Hermione watching her.
“Is he your beau?” Susan asked.
Hermione took so long to answer, and flushed so red, that Susan knew the answer even before the other girl finally answered in the negative.
“Why don’t you ask him to be?” Susan asked reasonably, fitting an arrow into her chosen bow and taking careful aim at one of the targets.
The arrow had stopped quivering in the bull’s eye before Hermione finally answered in a quiet voice.
“He doesn’t want me, I’m too…bookish.”
“I like books, too,” Susan said blandly.
Hermione scoffed. “Yes, but you’re obviously very pretty.”
“So are you,” Susan pointed out, a faint smile curving her lips as she studied the other girl.
“How do you do it?” Hermione demanded, a scowl on her face. “How can you be so smart and still get boys to like you?”
Susan turned the question over in her mind for a moment.
“I think,” she said slowly, “the trick is in honestly not caring one way or another what anyone, let alone boys, thinks of you.”
“Pax?” Susan offered, holding a hand out to Hermione.
Hermione tentatively took it and shook it, and then nodded resolutely.
“I’m sorry for being so rude,” Hermione said, looking contrite.
“Don’t ever be ashamed to be intelligent, darling,” Susan said wisely. “Or pretty, for that matter. Embrace both parts of yourself, and I think you’ll find that everything else eventually falls into place.”
III.
Peter rolled his eyes in good humor as he beheld Susan and Hermione in the library poring over a large tome, their heads bent close together. It had quickly become a common sight to see the two fiercely but good-naturedly debating various books and theories.
“Hello, Su, do you by any chance know where the fencing room is? Someone mentioned something about it in passing and I’m itching to stretch my arms a bit.”
Susan shrugged, but Hermione answered readily.
“To the right of the Great Hall. But be careful - ” She trailed off weakly as Peter swiftly strode out of sight with only a very quick “Cheers” tossed over his shoulder.
“Be careful of what?” Susan asked curiously.
Hermione grimaced. “Draco Malfoy likes to fence, too.”
+
The Pevensies had quickly gathered that the Slytherins were set rather apart from the rest of Hogwarts. Not only did they live far below the castle in the dungeons, but they also generally kept to themselves during meals and lessons.
Peter strode into the fencing room, eager to begin, but he stopped abruptly as he beheld someone else already using the room.
Draco Malfoy practiced alone, his feet nimble and his wrist deft as he practiced lightning-quick and liquid flicks and feints and sleights that Peter had only ever seen one other person use so well.
Draco stilled and his face went impassive as he noticed Peter standing in the doorway.
“Pevensie,” Draco said with a polite nod, fingers curled loosely around his foil. “I do hate to spoil your plans, but I have this room booked for the next hour at least.”
“Fancy a sparring partner?” Peter asked.
+
The two boys quickly found each other to be difficult but worthy opponents.
“Your style reminds me of my brother’s,” Peter said with a short laugh, out of breath after a particularly vicious bout. “But you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve that I don’t think even Edmund knows about.”
A faint smirk crossed Draco’s face.
“You’re not too bad, yourself,” Draco said slyly. “You’re certainly better to spar with than anyone else I know.”
Peter laughed outright and shook his head ruefully.
“You’re so much like Edmund, it’s ridiculous,” he said good-naturedly.
Draco’s face went curiously blank.
“I’m sure no one would ever accuse your brother of being a traitor,” Draco said sleekly, but Peter didn’t even blink.
“And that’s where you’re wrong, Malfoy,” Peter said amiably. “Ready to go again?”
IV.
Confused whispers flew around the castle.
“Why are you friends with him?” Edmund asked his brother one night, curious rather than condemning, voicing what everyone else had been wondering.
“He’s a snarky bastard,” Peter said with a shrug, “but he’s not a bad person at heart, even if he has made some mistakes in the past.”
And Edmund, more than anyone else, could certainly understand this reasoning - and he was grateful all over again that his brother could be so completely forgiving.
+
“Are you ready, Pevensie?” Ginny Weasley asked one afternoon, eyes glinting with more than a mere hint of challenge.
Edmund grinned.
“Aye, captain.”
Edmund had bemoaned the fact that he wasn’t allowed a wand on more than one occasion, and so Ginny had finally taken it upon herself to shut him up by teaching him about wand work.
And, of course, Edmund being Edmund, he couldn’t help but inquire about duelling.
Ginny flew around the empty practice room in a blur, her red hair flying around her face as she demonstrated various duelling techniques for Edmund.
Edmund didn’t know wands, but he certainly knew fights, and even he could tell that Ginny was a more than capable dueller, her motions sleek, agile, and practiced, her gaze intent and focused, her hands deft and sure.
Ginny Weasley in motion was a force to be reckoned with, and Edmund had never seen anything more impressive or gorgeous.
“Well?” Ginny demanded, coming to stand before Edmund. “Anything else?”
“Anything you can do,” Edmund said with a crooked and challenging grin, “I bet I can do better.”
+
Ginny found Edmund late one night sitting before the fireplace of the Gryffindor common room, staring pensively into the hot flames.
She moved to sit beside him, unconsciously graceful, and waited silently, knowing that he couldn’t be pushed with words.
Slim, elegant fingers absently toyed with a quill as Edmund finally spoke.
“Years ago, I met someone, and I did some terrible things that I can never take back.” Edmund turned to look at Ginny with eyes shadowed by bleak regret. “Do you understand me?”
Ginny nodded slowly. “The same thing happened to me, once,” she whispered.
Edmund studied her steadily, noting the way her unbound hair fell in waves and framed her slim shoulders like a wine-red capelet, and Ginny held his gaze without flinching.
“Sometimes she invades my dreams,” Edmund murmured, and Ginny smiled without much mirth.
“He does the same to me,” she said.
“How do you cope?” Edmund asked, looking curious.
“How do you?” Ginny countered.
“My siblings help,” Edmund said slowly, eyes seeming to look inward.
Ginny smiled gently. “Mine do, too,” she said softly, reaching over to tangle her fingers with his own. “You’re not alone, Edmund Pevensie.”
“Neither are you, Ginny Weasley.”
+
Nothing lasts forever, not even a year in as magical a place as Hogwarts.
“What will everyone back home say about us being gone for a year?” Lucy asked, seeming to think about it for only the first time since they boarded the Hogwarts Express for the very first time months ago.
“Dumbledore said he’d take care of it,” Edmund said with a careless shrug.
And, of course, Dumbledore could handle anything and everything, and so the Pevensies didn’t think anything more of the matter.
“I’ll miss you,” Luna said solemnly to Lucy, draping a cork necklace matching her own around the other girl’s neck.
“Don’t forget all those fencing tricks I taught you,” Peter said to Draco with a friendly nudge from his elbow, making the other boy snort.
Susan took a heavy book from Hermione with a smile.
And Ginny surprised them all by throwing her arms around Edmund and hugging him tightly.
“Friends help, too,” she whispered into his ear, before pressing a fleeting but searing kiss to his cheek.
+
And that was the end of the Pevensies at Hogwarts.
But perhaps some day Hogwarts may find itself in Narnia.
Fin.
Title: Mirror, Mirror
Author: turkeyish
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Narnia
Characters: Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley; Lucy Pevensie, Susan Pevensie, Peter Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie
Pairings: Hints of Ron/Hermione, Edmund/Ginny
Rating: G
Word count: ~2,500
Spoilers: Through book seven of Harry Potter and book seven of Narnia.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Narnia belong to their respective creators.
A/N: Thank you to my fabulous beta and the equally fabulous mods for working with me down to the wire. I hope I did your prompt some measure of justice, Dear Recipient! Your prompts were so fun, it was hard to choose one.
Summary: Lucy finds Platform 9 ¾.
Mirror, Mirror
I.
It started, as usual, with Lucy. All of the Pevensie children hated the beginnings of school terms, but Lucy hated them most of all. The beginning of a new school term meant packing, and a journey to the station, and unbearably long train rides that would take her farther and further away from her siblings. Nobody at school ever liked to discuss fauns as enthusiastically as she did, she had learned over the years.
And so it started on a cold, grey, drizzling sort of morning that is not unusual in London. The Pevensie children were sleepy, and they were bored, and Edmund had just beat Lucy to the last bit of space on the hard bench that Peter and Susan were already sharing.
“Imagine if the wood used for that bench had been taken from a dryad’s tree,” Lucy said haughtily.
“You can’t make me feel guilty enough to give up this seat, Lu, sorry,” Edmund said with an unrepentant grin.
Lucy scowled, though there wasn’t much heat in the expression. Stone pillars surely couldn’t be any worse than thick slabs of wood, she reasoned to herself as she leaned one small shoulder against the closest column. Their platform was quite empty save the Pevensies themselves, but she didn’t want to wander off by herself.
Only she didn’t so much lean as begin to topple over. Onto the side that should have been supported by a large stone pillar.
And Lucy’s wide eyes beheld a small plaque set high above a large and noisy crowd filled not only with human chatter, but also rather annoyed owl hoots: Platform 9 ¾.
Lucy turned her gaze to Edmund, who had a strong hold on one of her arms, and her eyes went even wider.
“Ed,” Lucy gasped, “your other half - ”
“ - is beyond this pillar,” Edmund finished conversationally.
He tugged with the arm not holding hers, and Peter stepped through the pillar, followed by Susan, who, in her usual unflappable manner, had had the presence of mind to bring the trolley holding their luggage through with her.
“I’m rather sure this train doesn’t go to school,” Susan said dryly.
“I agree,” Peter said with a glint in his eye that hadn’t been seen there for a while. “Shall we?”
And so it was that within five minutes of Lucy falling through a pillar, the Pevensies, without batting an eyelash, were comfortably settled in a compartment on the sleek red train.
“The Hogwarts Express,” Susan said, looking thoughtful. “What an odd name.”
+
Lucy wandered the length of the train corridor, ostensibly on a mission to find the loo.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lucy said as she nearly collided with a girl who had just exited a compartment.
“Hello,” the other girl said, her wide eyes studying Lucy curiously. “I’m Luna Lovegood.”
“And I’m Lucy Pevensie,” Lucy said, holding her hand out for a friendly shake.
Luna seemed not to notice the offer and simply continued to stare, although it didn’t seem to be for hostile reasons - and so Lucy unabashedly stared back.
“You’re new,” Luna finally said after a long silence, and “I like you.”
II.
Susan followed Lucy and Luna along a long corridor at a more sedate pace, smiling faintly each time she caught traces of their conversation.
“I think each person has a certain animal within them,” Luna said matter-of-factly, tiny plastic radishes dangling from her ears.
“So do I,” Lucy breathed. “Some people are rabbits or foxes, while others are - ”
“ - lions or horses,” Luna finished, beaming at her new friend.
The two girls turned a corner, and Susan was left alone with her thoughts.
The Pevensies had disembarked the train to find a tall, stern-looking woman waiting for them on the platform.
“Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall, and you will come with me.”
“Professor McGonagall,” Peter said, using the special charming voice he saved for handling others, whether they were young satyrs or worldly dowagers, “we’re the - ”
“I know exactly who you are, Peter Pevensie,” McGonagall interrupted severely, though a slight smile tugged at her pursed lips.
Hogwarts was a school for magic, the Pevensies had learned, and the reason they had been allowed to stay, as the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, had explained with a benign twinkle in his eye, was that the Pevensies seemed to possess an aura of more than a little magic themselves.
Hogwarts was a stunning castle, obviously extremely old but full of interesting character, and somehow it reminded Susan of Cair Paravel, she thought with a pang to her heart that she usually refused to let herself feel.
Entering what she had been told was the Great Hall, she made her way past the crowded tables to an empty seat situated between Peter and Edmund, aware all the while of the curious whispers and not-unfriendly stares that followed her along the way.
“We’re to stay with one of the houses, Gryffindor,” Peter whispered to her as she sat down. “Except Lucy, who will stay with Luna and Ravenclaw.”
Susan nodded and focused her attention first on the headmaster’s welcome speech, which included introductions of and explanations for the Pevensies, and then on the sumptuous feast.
She noticed with interest that the golden goblets seemed to refill themselves automatically whenever needed.
“Think of how useful this would have been back in Narnia,” Susan said to Peter, making her older brother grin.
+
The Pevensies didn’t have wands, and so couldn’t take part in the practical portions of the lessons, but they could certainly take part in the theory portions.
The one exception was Potions, which didn’t require a wand at all. Susan found Potions to be both soothing and familiar, as it reminded her of all her time spent in the kitchens of Cair Paravel, brewing salves and balms and other assorted potions used to ease her brothers’ various aches and pains in the aftermath of battle.
Even Professor Snape, who it was whispered was the most fearsome and demanding of all the professors, seemed impressed by Susan’s keen grasp of concepts and sure hands.
The only other person that Professor Snape even hinted at praising was one Hermione Granger. She was quite pretty, Susan noted, although the other girl had a habit of hiding behind her untamed mane.
Susan also didn’t fail to notice that Hermione seemed to grow more and more disgruntled with each question that Susan answered correctly.
“She’s the head of her class - and a few others, at that,” Lucy said as she perused the latest edition of The Quibbler, gifted to her by Luna. “But now you’re proving to be a considerable threat to that status.”
“Yes, dear, I know,” Susan said gently, turning the matter over and over in her mind.
+
Susan had never been immune to boys’ attentions, and Hogwarts certainly wasn’t proving to be the exception.
And then one Ron Weasley asked her if she’d like to sit with him and his friends during the first Quidditch match of the season.
Susan politely demurred, electing instead to take advantage of the empty archery range.
“He asked you to sit with him, didn’t he?” a voice demanded as Susan examined the available bows and arrows. Susan turned to find Hermione watching her.
“Is he your beau?” Susan asked.
Hermione took so long to answer, and flushed so red, that Susan knew the answer even before the other girl finally answered in the negative.
“Why don’t you ask him to be?” Susan asked reasonably, fitting an arrow into her chosen bow and taking careful aim at one of the targets.
The arrow had stopped quivering in the bull’s eye before Hermione finally answered in a quiet voice.
“He doesn’t want me, I’m too…bookish.”
“I like books, too,” Susan said blandly.
Hermione scoffed. “Yes, but you’re obviously very pretty.”
“So are you,” Susan pointed out, a faint smile curving her lips as she studied the other girl.
“How do you do it?” Hermione demanded, a scowl on her face. “How can you be so smart and still get boys to like you?”
Susan turned the question over in her mind for a moment.
“I think,” she said slowly, “the trick is in honestly not caring one way or another what anyone, let alone boys, thinks of you.”
“Pax?” Susan offered, holding a hand out to Hermione.
Hermione tentatively took it and shook it, and then nodded resolutely.
“I’m sorry for being so rude,” Hermione said, looking contrite.
“Don’t ever be ashamed to be intelligent, darling,” Susan said wisely. “Or pretty, for that matter. Embrace both parts of yourself, and I think you’ll find that everything else eventually falls into place.”
III.
Peter rolled his eyes in good humor as he beheld Susan and Hermione in the library poring over a large tome, their heads bent close together. It had quickly become a common sight to see the two fiercely but good-naturedly debating various books and theories.
“Hello, Su, do you by any chance know where the fencing room is? Someone mentioned something about it in passing and I’m itching to stretch my arms a bit.”
Susan shrugged, but Hermione answered readily.
“To the right of the Great Hall. But be careful - ” She trailed off weakly as Peter swiftly strode out of sight with only a very quick “Cheers” tossed over his shoulder.
“Be careful of what?” Susan asked curiously.
Hermione grimaced. “Draco Malfoy likes to fence, too.”
+
The Pevensies had quickly gathered that the Slytherins were set rather apart from the rest of Hogwarts. Not only did they live far below the castle in the dungeons, but they also generally kept to themselves during meals and lessons.
Peter strode into the fencing room, eager to begin, but he stopped abruptly as he beheld someone else already using the room.
Draco Malfoy practiced alone, his feet nimble and his wrist deft as he practiced lightning-quick and liquid flicks and feints and sleights that Peter had only ever seen one other person use so well.
Draco stilled and his face went impassive as he noticed Peter standing in the doorway.
“Pevensie,” Draco said with a polite nod, fingers curled loosely around his foil. “I do hate to spoil your plans, but I have this room booked for the next hour at least.”
“Fancy a sparring partner?” Peter asked.
+
The two boys quickly found each other to be difficult but worthy opponents.
“Your style reminds me of my brother’s,” Peter said with a short laugh, out of breath after a particularly vicious bout. “But you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve that I don’t think even Edmund knows about.”
A faint smirk crossed Draco’s face.
“You’re not too bad, yourself,” Draco said slyly. “You’re certainly better to spar with than anyone else I know.”
Peter laughed outright and shook his head ruefully.
“You’re so much like Edmund, it’s ridiculous,” he said good-naturedly.
Draco’s face went curiously blank.
“I’m sure no one would ever accuse your brother of being a traitor,” Draco said sleekly, but Peter didn’t even blink.
“And that’s where you’re wrong, Malfoy,” Peter said amiably. “Ready to go again?”
IV.
Confused whispers flew around the castle.
“Why are you friends with him?” Edmund asked his brother one night, curious rather than condemning, voicing what everyone else had been wondering.
“He’s a snarky bastard,” Peter said with a shrug, “but he’s not a bad person at heart, even if he has made some mistakes in the past.”
And Edmund, more than anyone else, could certainly understand this reasoning - and he was grateful all over again that his brother could be so completely forgiving.
+
“Are you ready, Pevensie?” Ginny Weasley asked one afternoon, eyes glinting with more than a mere hint of challenge.
Edmund grinned.
“Aye, captain.”
Edmund had bemoaned the fact that he wasn’t allowed a wand on more than one occasion, and so Ginny had finally taken it upon herself to shut him up by teaching him about wand work.
And, of course, Edmund being Edmund, he couldn’t help but inquire about duelling.
Ginny flew around the empty practice room in a blur, her red hair flying around her face as she demonstrated various duelling techniques for Edmund.
Edmund didn’t know wands, but he certainly knew fights, and even he could tell that Ginny was a more than capable dueller, her motions sleek, agile, and practiced, her gaze intent and focused, her hands deft and sure.
Ginny Weasley in motion was a force to be reckoned with, and Edmund had never seen anything more impressive or gorgeous.
“Well?” Ginny demanded, coming to stand before Edmund. “Anything else?”
“Anything you can do,” Edmund said with a crooked and challenging grin, “I bet I can do better.”
+
Ginny found Edmund late one night sitting before the fireplace of the Gryffindor common room, staring pensively into the hot flames.
She moved to sit beside him, unconsciously graceful, and waited silently, knowing that he couldn’t be pushed with words.
Slim, elegant fingers absently toyed with a quill as Edmund finally spoke.
“Years ago, I met someone, and I did some terrible things that I can never take back.” Edmund turned to look at Ginny with eyes shadowed by bleak regret. “Do you understand me?”
Ginny nodded slowly. “The same thing happened to me, once,” she whispered.
Edmund studied her steadily, noting the way her unbound hair fell in waves and framed her slim shoulders like a wine-red capelet, and Ginny held his gaze without flinching.
“Sometimes she invades my dreams,” Edmund murmured, and Ginny smiled without much mirth.
“He does the same to me,” she said.
“How do you cope?” Edmund asked, looking curious.
“How do you?” Ginny countered.
“My siblings help,” Edmund said slowly, eyes seeming to look inward.
Ginny smiled gently. “Mine do, too,” she said softly, reaching over to tangle her fingers with his own. “You’re not alone, Edmund Pevensie.”
“Neither are you, Ginny Weasley.”
+
Nothing lasts forever, not even a year in as magical a place as Hogwarts.
“What will everyone back home say about us being gone for a year?” Lucy asked, seeming to think about it for only the first time since they boarded the Hogwarts Express for the very first time months ago.
“Dumbledore said he’d take care of it,” Edmund said with a careless shrug.
And, of course, Dumbledore could handle anything and everything, and so the Pevensies didn’t think anything more of the matter.
“I’ll miss you,” Luna said solemnly to Lucy, draping a cork necklace matching her own around the other girl’s neck.
“Don’t forget all those fencing tricks I taught you,” Peter said to Draco with a friendly nudge from his elbow, making the other boy snort.
Susan took a heavy book from Hermione with a smile.
And Ginny surprised them all by throwing her arms around Edmund and hugging him tightly.
“Friends help, too,” she whispered into his ear, before pressing a fleeting but searing kiss to his cheek.
+
And that was the end of the Pevensies at Hogwarts.
But perhaps some day Hogwarts may find itself in Narnia.
Fin.