SPN: Hogwarts Supernatural - Valentine's Day Special
Title: Hogwarts Supernatural - Valentine's Day Special or The One Where Bela Finally Gets the Girl
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, Hogwarts-verse, Romance, Teen Angst, Fluff
Pairings: Bela/Jo, Dean/Cas, Michael/Kali, Gabriel/Kali, mentions of Bela/Michael, Sam/Jess, Balthazar/Rachel, Tessa/Andy
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Slash, Language
Word Count: 13 000
Summary: With Dean and Cas becoming a more "official" couple and Sam and Jess all but admitting their feelings for each other, Bela starts to feel a bit left out. But as Valentine's Day approaches, she begins receiving mysterious gifts.
A/N: So this has embarrassingly been sitting on my desktop for well over two months now (okay, maybe three). It was written as part of my Hogwarts AU verse, inspired by cafe-de-labeill's artwork. Unlike all the other parts, this one was written from Bela's point of view. I'm not a big fan of femslash and had intended on putting Bela with a male character but my muse was hit with sudden inspiration and, well...this was the result.
Apologies for any errors. I did my best to edit this on my own but I am also finishing up a Big Bang fic and my entry for the dc_everafter challenge. Supernatural characters and the Hogwarts universe are the creations of Eric Kripke and J.K. Rowling, respectively.
“You didn’t tell me SHE was going to be here.”
In classic angry Jo fashion, the 5th year Gryffindor crossed her arms over her red and gold Quidditch robes, eyebrows drawn together in irritation. Her words had come out in a hiss, louder than she intended. But then again, Bela wouldn’t have put it past the Gryffindor to make her dissatisfaction known to everyone within screaming range.
From where Bela stood a few meters away, she could see Jo glaring up at Dean (with his growth spurt last summer, he nearly towered over all the other fifth years) who, unlike most of the male sex in this school, had the audacity to grin sheepishly instead of cower. Although Harvelle was small for her age, she had the presence of a 15-foot tall giant on a Muggle-eating rampage. “So I may have left out a few details.”
“A few details?!” Jo’s voice had hitched until it was almost a shriek and her cheeks grew red as she lowered it. “You know I won’t play Quidditch with one of ithem. Unless it’s to kick their asses in a House match.”
“It’s just one game, Jo,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Nobody said you two had to become BFFs and start braiding each other’s hair.”
Jo looked ready to retort but reluctantly bit her lip and looked away. It was then that she caught Bela’s eyes and realized that the Slytherin had heard everything that transpired between them. Maybe in another time and place, when Bela had more insecurities and not years worth of putting up with blood purity shit in Slytherin, she may have been more hurt by Jo adopting that typical Gryffindor behavior and projecting all her hate onto anything from the snake-emblem House. But Bela knew how to put on a facade and besides, if it hadn’t been fun to torment the little lion, their house hatred for each other would have gotten old years ago.
Drawing up to her full height (which was, thankfully, a good 4 or 5 inches on Jo), Bela sauntered over, all sass and arrogance wrapped in a silver-and green robed package. “Afraid your mum’s gonna ground you for playing in the sandbox with a snake? Don’t worry, I left my cursing spells and dark potions back in the dungeons.”
“Even if I hadn’t been raised to avoid your kind,” Jo responded, shoulders tensing in a defensive stance, “I’d still know a rat when I see one.”
“Ouch, love, that hurt,” and for emphasis, Bela mockingly clutched at her heart with a gloved hand, “You get your insults from the back of a Bertie Bott’s Magical Flavored Beans package? Bugger me if anything thought provoking ever comes out of your mouth.”
“Give me five minutes and my fists will exchange some ‘thought-provoking’ words with your face,” Jo shot back, rolling up the sleeves of her Quidditch robes.
“Girls, girls,” Dean said, laughing nervously and standing between them, “I like a chick fight as much as the next dude but I’m freezing my balls off here. Save the ‘hissing and kissing’ for later.”
Both Bela and Jo made a face at Dean, Bela quirking a brow when she noticed the angry flush of Jo’s face. Her nose was already a nice shade of pink, the winter air being the culprit from where the group stood in the Quidditch pitch, boots and robes slightly damp from the snow, but Bela couldn’t help but think that maybe if she could be bothered to really think about it, Jo almost looked cute when she was angry.
“You guys coming or what?”
The three looked up from where Sam was hovering on his broomstick, Jess and Castiel not far from him. Adam Milligan, the 3rd year Gryffindor seeker, was flying around the pitch, looping through the scoring rings in the same way that a sprinter would jog across the track to warm up his legs. The air was still relatively cold on the morning of that first Saturday of February and Bela was surprised that even Dean had managed to crawl out of bed, given his aversion to doing anything but sleeping before noon. But Castiel had asked and there were few things the Hufflepuff could request that Dean would say ‘no’ to.
“Oh, you know me, Sammy: just making some time for the ladies,” Dean responded, winking up at his brother. Sam shook his head in agitation while Castiel made a pained face. Seeing that expression though, even if it was in jest, always made Dean come undone and he quickly blurted, “Gotta let ‘em down easy, Cas, you know, since I got you ‘n all. This face has done more harm than goo-Ouch, Jo, the fuck?!”
Dean rubbed the back of his head and glared at his friend.
“Grow tits and a pussy; then we’ll talk.”
Jo mounted her broom and launched out of the snow, causing white powder to spew all over Bela and Dean. Dean brushed off snow from his Gryffindor colored Quidditch robes, mumbling, “Stupid, Jo. You can’t grow vaginas.”
If there’s one thing that Bela admired about Jo…well, maybe admired was too strong a word. If there is one thing she tolerated with Jo, it was Jo’s ability to put the hard-headed older Winchester in his place. Not that Jo’s interest in the fairer sex, and only in the fairer sex, was really a secret-Winchester had walked right into that one. Bela wondered if they were putting something in the Gryffindor’s water bottles to make their Quidditch team go gay.
Give it another year and their official robes will be rainbow-colored. Bela wasn’t sure about homosexuality in the wizarding world, seeing as being Muggle-born and raised made her naïve of most things outside of Hogwarts, but she has a feeling that the meaning of something like rainbow-colored robes would be lost on most of the students at Hogwarts.
“Hey guys, I’m not late, am I?”
Dean and Bela turned to where Maggie was trudging towards them through the snow, in full Hufflepuff Quidditch gear with broomstick in hand. Trailing close behind her was-
“No.”
Maggie stopped in front of Dean, eyes widening. “Please.”
“No. Hell no. Fuck no. No!”
“They said they’ll behave.”
“No,” Dean said again, expression stern.
Ed Zeddmore, Maggie’s older brother, and his best friend Harry Sprangler, both were carrying broomsticks and were clad in old, worn robes. Neither of them played Quidditch (Bela would be surprised if they even knew how) but the two 5th year Hufflepuffs stood their ground and didn’t seem ready to be taking ‘no’ for an answer.
“Dean’s just scared cause we got moves he’s never seen,” Ed said.
“It’s ok to feel intimidated by our awesomeness,” Harry continued, smirking. “We get that a lot.”
Dean’s jaw twitched.
“They, uh-they said one of them could play keeper,” Maggie said, voice hopeful.
Well, if one of them pissed Dean off, the chaser could always deck them with a quaffle. Bela had seen Dean do that to Sam on numerous occasions. “Fine. But if one of you bozos falls off your broom, I ain’t carrying you to the medical ward.”
Dean launched up into the pitch to meet up with Sam and the others. As Bela and the others followed suit, the Slytherin couldn’t help but be impressed by the turnout for this impromptu get together. Only the night before, Castiel had told his friends that the Hufflepuff practice scheduled for this morning was scheduled since two of the Campbells had come down with a bad flu. This left the pitch open and since Castiel and Maggie still wanted to get some air time, they decided to invite their friends out before Slytherin would take the pitch for the afternoon. Since the match next Saturdays would be Ravenclaw versus Slytherin, Bela wanted to get as much practice in as she could, being Slytherin’s newest addition to the team and having a lot riding on her to prove herself. It didn’t help that Slytherin was still recovering from their loss to Gryffindor back in November.
Once all of them were in the air, a heated debate began over how the teams would be split up-Bela and Jo refused to be on the same team, Dean didn’t want to be on the same team as Harry or Ed, Harry refused to be on the opposing team of Maggie, Adam wanted to play with Dean and Dean decided that he had to be on the same team as Castiel. After 10 minutes of arguing, the teams were split into Dean, Sam, Jo, Jess, and Adam, and Castiel, Harry, Ed, Maggie, and Bela. With Jess and Ed taking the keeper positions on opposite ends of the pitch, Bela was grateful for Castiel’s willingness to be more diplomatic than anyone else and accept being separated from Dean.
“I still think Cas shoulda been on my team,” Dean continued to grumble.
“Then you’d have two seekers, Dean,” Castiel responded, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder from where he hovered beside him. “It would have been detrimental to the structure of your team.”
He leaned over to kiss Dean’s rosy cheek, earning a sound of mock disgust from Jo. Dean shot a glare at her.
“Save it for the after game showers, Winchester.”
Both Dean and Castiel blushed and it was then Sam’s turn to make a sound of disgust. “There’s not enough scourgifying spells in Hogwarts that can wipe that image from my brain. Thanks, Jo.”
“Any time, Sammy.”
“Hey, only I can call him ‘Sammy’,” Dean protested.
And after another 10 minutes of attempting to break up Dean and Jo’s bickering, enchantments were placed on the bludgers and snitch and the game was underway. Castiel and Adam each took the position of seeker for their respective teams while Bela and Maggie played their usual positions as chasers and Harry was handed a bat to take on the beater position, despite Dean’s complaints over giving Harry blunt objects. On Dean’s team, Jo took her usual position as beater while Sam and Dean played chasers.
The first half hour of play had gone relatively smoothly, minus Dean’s little explosion at Harry after he successfully (much to the shock of everyone) redirected a bludger at Dean’s head. While Harry feigned appearing somewhat apologetic, in the way that, “I can’t help that I got moves like Yoda on this broomstick!” can sound apologetic, he looked a bit too pleased at himself from then on, even if most of his attempts to strike the bludger ended with him being struck by the bludger. Ed didn’t fare much better, taking the brunt of the few goals Dean could afford to throw with a face full of quaffle when the keeper got too snarky. By the third time it happened, Sam couldn’t help but reprimand his brother.
“Geez, Dean. What are you, five? Lay off a bit.”
“We’re up 50 points on them. It’s not like they can afford to have us not go easy on them,” Dean bragged.
“Stop buggering around,” Bela cut in. “Bring your game before we hand your arses to you.”
“And what makes you think you can take us?”
Bela inclined her head in Castiel’s direction, where the Hufflepuff seeker was flying not far above the snow, a look of complete concentration on his face as he searched for the snitch. With their easy win against Ravenclaw a few weeks ago, Castiel was quickly proving to be the school’s best seeker and a force to be reckoned with in the pitch. Although Adam had aided Gryffindor’s win against Slytherin last semester, it was only because the Slytherin seeker, Raphael, had taken a nasty tumble and that secured the Gryffindor win. Adam was still new to the sport and even now, watching him try and match Castiel’s swift and confident movements, the Hufflepuff seeming as if he were born to fly, it was apparent to everyone that Adam still had a lot to learn.
Even Dean couldn’t deny his boyfriend’s skill as he stared proudly at Castiel as he maneuvered around the rings. “Good point. It’s on, Talbot!”
Another hour into the game and Dean’s team was now leading 100 points, bringing the total score to 140-40. Although Jess and Ed were not Quidditch players, Jess often played with her friends and had more practice as a keeper. The weariness was showing in everyone, from the way their shoulders slouched to their sluggish swerving when trying to avoid the bludgers. Bela was quite weary as she moved across the pitch, quaffle in hand, and the knowledge that she would have to drag herself back out here in the afternoon made her start to regret her decision to play Quidditch this morning.
“I’m wide open!” Maggie called.
Bela turned in Maggie’s direction, maneuvering her broomstick to allow an easy pass of the quaffle. But as the Hufflepuff chaser caught the quaffle, she shouted a warning to Bela. However, it was too late. Jo and Bela cried out as their broomsticks crashed together and tumbled towards the earth. In all the chaos, both of them regained their control and now hovered a meter above the snow, Bela clutching her side and Jo holding onto her right shoulder and wincing.
“What the fuck was that, Talbot?! Your grandmother teach you how to fly?!”
Everyone knew Bela was the first in her family to attend a wizarding school. The implication that her flying was so bad that she must have been taught by a Muggle was not lost on her.
Bela’s cheeks flared a dark shade of angry red. “That’s bollocks, Harvelle, and you know it. Ever heard of keeping your eyes on the air in front of you?!”
“Don’t you pin this on me! You crashed into me!”
“I had the quaffle and you clearly were interrupting a play!” Bela shouted back. “Wizards who know how to play would have called you for blatching!”
“Right, I should take advice from a Slytherin on how not to foul,” Jo shot back, her glare as venomous as her bite. “You Slytherin foul so often you think it’s part of acceptable play!”
“At least we don’t go crying to the refs every time a foul is called against us!”
“Wow, is that so? We must be watching different matches because all Slytherin ever does is piss and moan!”
“Keep spewing rubbish and you’ll have some more pretty bruises to match the ones on your shoulder!”
“Your side still hurting, Talbot? Because that’s not all that’ll be hurting when I’m through with you!”
Both Bela and Jo withdrew their wands, Jo’s bat dropping into the snow below. The commotion had already attracted the attention of their friends, Jess and Sam dropping down between them to act as peace makers before the girls started screaming curses left, right, and center.
“Guys, it was just an accident! We all saw it! You need to calm down!” Jess pleaded.
“Nobody did it on purpose!” Sam said, glancing over at Dean for help.
“What?” Dean said, shrugging at Sam’s annoyed expression. He indicated to Bela. “She did kind of insult Gryffindor.”
If she weren’t seriously considering an unforgiveable curse on Jo, Bela would have smirked when Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation at Dean. Typical, typical Gryffindor.
But seeing the look Jess was giving her, one of her closest friends at this school, Bela relented and lowered her wand. That was the moment she received a face full of snow.
“Oh, it’s on, Harvelle!”
She pushed past Jess and launched off her broom, crashing into Jo and causing both of them to tumble into the snow. The snow was nearly a meter deep, easily cushioning their landing, and the next few moments were a blur of white, gold, and red as Bela hissed and clawed at Jo, pulling at that blond ponytail, yanking at her robes, shoving the Gryffindor back into the snow whenever she tried to stand. The shouts all around them as everyone else dropped into the snow became white noise over the insults the two girls threw at each other.
“Bitch!”
“Prat!”
“Whore!”
“Trout!”
“Cun-“
Bela now had Jo straddled beneath her in the snow, hands clutching her Quidditch robes, both girls soaked to the bone from the tumble. But as they attempted to continue their string of insults, they found to their shock that no words passed through their open mouths.
“Silencio does come in handy every now and then,” Jess remarked, looked unusually smug. “And there are only so many sexist derogatory insults I can take in a day.”
“Nice one, Jess.”
Bela shot Sam a disapproving look but allowed herself to be pulled off of Jo when Maggie offered her a hand up. Jo was still seething with anger and had to be held back by Dean once she was back up on her feet.
“Easy there, Harvelle. No good will come if you two kill each other out here. Quidditch season isn’t over yet,” Dean joked.
“Why’d you stop the girl fight?” Ed whined, earning him an angry look from Maggie. This also silenced the protests Harry was about to make.
“What’s going on?”
Castiel was still on his broomstick, head tilted curiously as he looked around the group. Adam joined him a moment later.
“Oh, you know, Superman and Lex Luthor just duking it out,” Dean said, indicating to Bela and Jo.
Castiel looked even more confused.
Dean sighed. “Seriously, Cas. You really need to start reading comics.”
“…I caught the snitch,” he offered, helpfully. He handed the golden object to Dean.
“I think we’re about to call it a day, any way,” Jess said, looking pointedly at Bela and Jo. “That is, unless you two want to stand out here and fight all day.”
The silencing charm was just starting to wear off. Bela was the first to recover. “I’m not apologizing.”
“Ditto,” Jo chimed in.
“Whatever. But if you two chicks want to duke it out some more, freeze your asses off. I’m gonna get me some pie,” said Dean.
As the friends parted ways, some heading to the Quidditch pitch locker rooms and others opting to use the facilities in Hogwarts to clean up, Jo and Bela exchanged one final, heated look and only just managed to avoid further arguing lest they invite the ire of their friends.
*
By Sunday evening, Bela’s entire body was sore. She had spent most of Saturday out on the pitch and had just come out from another Slytherin practice. With the upcoming Ravenclaw game, it meant both teams were fighting for time on the pitch and that meant Slytherin would be practicing every morning for the rest of the week until the game this Saturday. She was starting to wonder if maybe she had been a bit over-zealous in her decision to join the team this year.
Not that she hated the game. She loved Quidditch but being in Slytherin meant playing for Slytherin and while she had house pride, she disliked most members of her team with the exception of the 7th years Gabriel Milton and his cousin, Balthazar Flynn. They didn’t fuss as much as the rest of the team had over blood purity, despite coming from ancient bloodlines, and if Gabriel weren’t intent on being public enemy number one with his constant pranking, he’d almost be a good guy.
What was really getting to Bela though was not just the impact that training was having on her body but the feeling that it was almost for nothing. Most of her team would sooner find an excuse to replace her (Purist bigotry) than encourage her growth, were it not for the fact that everyone else who had tried out this year paled in comparison to her swift maneuvering on a broomstick (a fact she will grudgingly have to thank Dean Winchester for some day since being in their little clique meant being dragged out to the pitch often). Not only that, she hadn’t realized how lonely it was being officially a rival in the game. It had been easier in previous years when Sam and Jess dragged her to watch when Dean or Castiel played. Now, though, any time Slytherin would play, her friends would always cheer the team she was playing against, whether it was Gryffindor (Dean’s team), Hufflepuff (Castiel’s), or Ravenclaw (Sam and Jess’ house).
She tried not to let it get to her, to rationalize that it was just how things were, but that didn’t hide that little twinge of pain she felt whenever she noticed her friends in the opposite stands of the pitch and realized that her own House only cheered for her, not because they particularly liked her as a player, but because they had to. When Dean and Castiel weren’t playing each other, they cheered each other on. Bela wished someone would cheer her on for once.
As she entered the dining hall, she pushed away her bitter thoughts. She could already see Dean and Castiel seated with Sam and Jess at the Hufflepuff table and made her way over. In her haste, she bumped shoulders with someone considerably taller than her and the impact caused her to stumble back a step. She looked up, annoyed glare already fixed on her face, only to feel her expression soften and a blush tinge her cheeks.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stuttered, suddenly feeling flustered.
Michael, blue eyes cold and golden hair tousled in a way that was so wildly sexy that it seemed to contradict the Gryffindor Head Boy’s no-nonsense and strict attitude, looked down at her coolly and indifferently, in a way that seemed to say he expected respect but hadn’t a clue how to dish it back. It wasn’t just his good looks alone that had all the girls at Hogwarts tripping to get in the 7th year’s good graces; his authoritative and air of indifference made him come off as a wild animal only begging to be tamed. So maybe Bela’s joining of the flock was the stuff that Muggle romance novels were made of (a summer hobby she wasn’t about to own up to without a fight), but there was something about the Gryffindor captain’s nonchalance had heat pooling to all the right places in her body and her hormones going into over-drive.
“A miscalculation,” he offers, without so much as a note of care in his voice. He moves to walk passed her but Bela’s voice trembles as she speaks up, grasping at straws to gain even a further moment of his attention.
“Y-your t-team is, uh, well, you’ve been playing well this year,” she offers, lamely.
Michael’s brows furrow a little, possibly the most emotion she has ever stirred in him in the handful of times she found the courage to talk to him these last few years. “We lost to Hufflepuff in the opening of the season.”
She waited for him to continue but he seemed to have deemed this a sufficient response to counter her compliment, stated it so dryly that it seemed he felt it incredulous she would even imply his team could possibly be good. She was about to delve further when that confused look on his face deepened. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Okay, so this was embarrassing. But maybe she was expecting a bit too much to have him remember her name when they weren’t in the same year. “I-I play for Slytherin.”
“Ah,” is all he said and walked away.
Right. Not the best attempts at interaction but at least it’s a start. She willed herself to look away and not stare at his retreating form, trying to will away her humiliation from the failed conversation.
She walked over to the Hufflepuff table and took a seat between Castiel and Tessa. However, she hadn’t so much as settled down when a voice from across the table cut in.
“Slytherin’s table is that way.”
Bela glared at Jo’s pointed finger. “And Gryffindor’s is over there. You have a point you’re trying to make, Harvelle?”
“If both of you continue to bicker like children, I will have to ask you to leave,” Tessa warned, indicating to her Prefect badge to let them know she meant business. But being that she is Tessa, her expression softened a moment later. “Otherwise, you are both more than welcome to stay.”
Bela wanted to know why Jo suddenly decided to eat with her friends but decided it wasn’t worth upsetting Tessa who really wouldn’t hesitate to use her clout as a Prefect to keep the peace. Not that Jo also wasn’t good friends with everyone in their clique, minus Bela, but the Gryffindor had never expressed any interest in eating with them before. However, she was Dean’s best friend, outside of Sam and Castiel (and really, neither counted anymore since they also share the titles ‘brother’ and ‘boyfriend’ respectively), so it would naturally make sense that she would want to hang out with Dean.
“It’s not a date!” both Sam and Jess exclaimed, interrupting Bela’s thoughts.
“Sounds like a date to me, Sammy. The sooner you reel her in, the better,” Dean said, winking.
Red-faced, Jess dropped her eyes, suddenly finding the array of food in front of them more interesting even though her dinner was hardly touched. While Sam was equally embarrassed, he wasn’t about to back down his defense.
“We won’t get any work done at the Astronomy tower because…well, you know what usually goes down there,” and if possible, Sam’s face went redder, “so, uh, Jess suggested we take along our telescope and some food and go down to the lake instead. At least this way, we can finish our assignment for Friday.”
Dean sighed. “Only you two nerds would turn a date into a study group. Ouch!”
Sam smiled triumphantly and Dean began rubbing his sore shin under the table.
“Whatever happened to this being the season of good tidings and cheer?” Dean complained.
“That’s Christmas you’re thinking of, Winchester,” Bela piped in. “Valentine’s Day is just about exchanging spit, killing plants, and getting fat off of chocolate.”
“Or for those of us who don’t have a stick up our ass, it’s about showing our love to those we care about,” Jo pointed out. “And dragging boyfriends out to Madame Puddifoots for the night.”
“There’s no way in hell you’ll ever catch me dead at Madame Puddifoots,” Dean said, with a groan. “You’d have to be so whipped to step foot in that joint.”
When Castiel heard that, his expression dropped and he sadly mumbled, “…I’ve always wanted to go to Madame Puddifoots…”
“And that’s where I’m taking you for Valentine’s Day!” Dean exclaimed, forcing a grin. “I, uh, wanted it to be a surprise but, uh, you caught me, Cas!”
Castiel smiled and with the way his blue eyes suddenly lit up, even Bela didn’t have the heart to point out Dean’s hypocrisy. Jess, Jo, and Sam snickered, earning them none-too-pleasant glares from the older Winchester.
“So do you have any plans for Valentine’s day, Tessa?” Jess asked.
It was now Tessa’s turn to be embarrassed. “Andy had asked if I was free on Thursday…but he didn’t say what it is we’ll be doing…”
And seeing how everyone around the table lit up with talk of Valentine’s Day made that sting of bitterness return. Bela tried to keep a pleasant smile on her face but all she could about was how nobody had ever so much as looked at her with any interest. It wasn’t that she was unattractive (at least not in her opinion) with her honey brown, shoulder length hair, grey-blue eyes, and modest curves. But being in Slytherin didn’t exactly put her at the top of anyone’s list and her lack of relationships with anyone in her own house didn’t help matters. It wasn’t that someone in Slytherin couldn’t find a mate outside of their house, Gabriel and Balthazar being shining examples of that, but she also didn’t have the charisma to forge friendships with anyone who caught her eye.
“How about you, Jo?”
From where Jo was seated across from Bela, the Slytherin noticed the Gryffindor stiffen. “Valentine’s day’s not really my thing. All the good chicks are already taken.”
The laugh that followed was as uneasy as it was forced but Jo didn’t give anyone a chance to inquire further. She went into the recent standings for the Quidditch League that she had read in the weekend edition of the Daily Prophet, eventually getting into an argument with Dean over who would take the cup this year. But even as Jo’s discomfort was forgotten, Bela couldn’t help but think how difficult it must be to be openly gay at Hogwarts since it not only opens one to everyone’s judgment but also limits the dating pool. If she could admit it to herself, she would almost say she pities Jo.
“It seems every time I search for my team, all I have to do is wander over to another house’s table.”
That cool voice that interrupted Bela’s thoughts and the Quidditch argument reintroduced the warmth Bela had felt earlier when in the Gryffindor’s presence. Michael was standing behind Dean, expression as cold as ever, save for the slight twitch of his lips that almost indicated an annoyed scowl. His icy blue eyes shot between Dean and Jo, making everyone else feel openly ignored.
“You know I’m all for house unity, peace on earth, and all that jazz,” Dean joked. “Anything up, Mikey?”
Michael appeared to deem this an appropriate time to express some emotion and did little to hide his look of disapproval. “You know very well what I think of that nickname, Dean. Yet I’m in no mood to discuss your lack of decorum. I came to inform you that we will have practice on Tuesday during the lunch hour.”
“Seriously?” Dean groaned, posture drooping. “Some of us like to eat at lunch.”
“I was recently reminded that our team has not been performing to its full potential this year,” and when he said that, his eyes flickered to Bela, as if only just realizing she was sitting at the Hufflepuff table, “I felt it would be best that we prepare well in advance for next month’s match. I expect both of you to arrive promptly on Tuesday. Understood?”
“Loud and clear, fearless leader,” Jo chimed in, sarcastically. Evidently, she also wasn’t thrilled about a lunch hour practice.
Without another word, Michael walked back towards the Gryffindor table. Unable to resist, Bela’s eyes remained glued on his retreating figure.
“’Best we prepare in advance?’ Right, because it’s not like we don’t already practice 3 days a week,” Dean complained, shoveling a piece of pie into his mouth. Even his usual favorite apple pie didn’t seem to pacify his mood. “And ‘decorum’? Really? Someone needs to pull out that broomstick shoved up his ass.”
Sam sighed. “You’re doing a great job at not proving his point, Dean.”
While the Winchesters bickered yet again (was that all they ever did?), Bela’s attention was brought back to the table when Jo, of all people, addressed her.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for him to notice you.”
Bela dipped her head to hide her blush, taking a bite out of her salad. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“I can give you a hint: he’s got the social skills of a boggart and the personality of a rock. If he weren’t part veela, I don’t think any self-respecting witch would give him the time of day.”
“Michael’s part veela?”
The question was out before Bela could stop herself. She had heard the rumor some time ago but had never given it much thought. It would certainly explain his extraordinary good looks, the veela having been known for beauty that easily can lure a man to his death. From what little Bela had learned of them in her Magical Creatures textbooks, they were the equivalent of Sirens in Greek Myth.
“Grandmother’s a veela,” Jo said, shrugging. “It’s not really that uncommon. The St. Onge’s aren’t as pure-blooded as some think but they’ve never hooked up with Muggles or Muggle-borns.”
Bela stiffened. “That’s of little concern to me.”
“As much as I like cutting you down a peg, I’m not trying to be a bitch,” Jo continued and if Bela could believe it, the Gryffindor did sound a bit apologetic. Odd. “But unless you change your bloodline, grow a bigger pair of tits and maybe switch houses while you’re at it, I don’t think he’ll be coming around any time soon. That, or you can always take some polyjiuce potion. I don’t think I need to tell you which witch you need to resemble to get tall, stiff, and humorless’ attention.”
And to hit the nail on its head, it was that moment that Kali Kashmira, a 7th year Ravenclaw, walked by Michael and he was instantly on her heels like a lovesick puppy. Anyone who knew the status quo at Hogwarts wouldn’t even have to turn to Slytherin’s table to recognize Gabriel’s familiar flair of jealousy. Both Gabriel and Michael had marked each other as rivals for Kali’s attention ever since 4th year when the Ravenclaw first grew her set of modest b’s (maybe not huge but still larger than Bela’s). Since then, she has been dating both of them on and off, her natural dark and sultry looks turning both men into putty in her hands.
Truthfully, Bela had always felt that Kali’s affections leaned more towards Gabriel. But Gabriel’s childish behavior and pranking often wore the Ravenclaw’s patience quite thin and she would then jump to Michael, easily more superior to Gabriel in everything except personality. If Bela’s suspicions were correct, it was always successful at keeping Gabriel in line, even if only temporarily.
“I think you’re reading too far into things,” Bela argued, choosing to stubbornly not relent. But the sick feeling of knowing the Gryffindor was right, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, made her suddenly lose her appetite.
“And I think you need to stop getting so defensive,” Jo tossed back. “I’m just telling it as it is.”
“Well if I wanted a bloody reading, I’d go to Professor Mosely for that.”
Making it clear that the discussion was over, Bela stood up and stalked out of the dining hall without so much as a ‘good-bye’ to her friends.
*
There were many things Bela expected on a Monday morning. Warm food was one of them. Maybe hot porridge and freshly cut slices of apple sprinkled with cinnamon. Or a hot shower. After these torturous early morning Quidditch practices in the freezing cold, burying her body deep in the steam of a piping hot shower was nothing short of heaven, the heat working her tired muscles like an eager lover.
A small package, decorated with only a bow and bouncing on top of her bed stand was not one of the things she expected in her sweaty and bone-worn state. She had just returned from the pitch, opting to shower in the privacy of her dorm since sharing a locker room with the Slytherin beater, Meg Masters, who often viciously gossiped to anyone within hearing range about the atrocities of everyone who wasn’t her, was less appealing than being pursued by an army of boggarts riding horntail dragons. It only served as a reminder that Bela shares a dorm with the fellow fifth year and hell, after 5 years of this, wasn’t she entitled to a bit of peace in the mornings?
Bela stared at the package again, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “And you’re certain this isn’t another of your brother’s pranks?”
She remembered last year in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day how Gabriel had managed to prank every girl in every house, his own house not excluded (bloody traitor). It had been simple, really. He jinxed all the gifts that the house elves delivered on behalf of Hogwarts’ male population and within that week, every girl daring enough to eat her fudge flies or chocoballs broke out into everything from boils to warts. And the roses…just a single sniff was enough to cause a steady flow of mucus to dribble for a good hour or two. By Valentine’s Day evening, most of the witches at Hogwarts had locked themselves in their rooms and refused to venture outdoors, courtesy of their Anonymously Yours.
Bela had luckily just avoided the prank, even though Gabriel had made sure roses and chocolate were sent to everyone. Her skepticism and general pessimism on Valentine’s Day made her moodily toss the items in the garbage. But many others hadn’t been so lucky, including Gabriel’s own on-and-off flame, Kali Kashmira. Not surprisingly, she was the reason Gabriel orchestrated the whole prank to begin with. Bitter with their recent break-up, he had thrown a fit when he learned she had went back to Michael and would be spending Valentine’s Day with the Gryffindor. In his post-breakup state, it seemed nobody in Hogwarts had been safe from his ire. A semester’s worth of detention and then some later and Bela couldn’t help but wonder if Hogwarts was about to experience Round 2 of Gabriel’s bitterness given his recent falling out with Kali.
“Gabriel swore he wouldn’t perform such a large scale prank after mother threw a fit over his threatened expulsion,” Anna responded, shrugging. “Not that it’s ever stopped him. Our parents have dished out every punishment short of throwing him out on the street, yet he somehow always gets away with murder in the end.”
It really was a miracle. The Miltons, an ancient family made up of blood purists, were as conservative and obsessed with maintaining a superior image in the wizarding world as the Alderwoods, that it was mind boggling how they allowed their first born son to get away with half the shit he pulls. Bela would like to think its love but from the few things Anna has said about her family, it was a grudging tolerance and a constant push to change their son that kept Gabriel from being written out of the will.
“Well, that’s encouraging,” Bela mumbled, taking a step back from where the package bounced on the table stand. She raised her wand. “I suppose we’ll have to do this the hard way.”
She cast an anti-jinx spell on herself and slowly approached the table. As the table rattled, she noticed an unopened note beside the gift. Hesitantly, she picked it up and tore open the seal.
“I have this secret I must confess,” Bela read, “It is you that I admire best. Huh.”
Anna moved closer to Bela, eyes opening wide. “Who do you think it’s from?”
“I’m not sure.” The hand writing didn’t look familiar at all. “Whoever it is though, they should work on their lyrical skills.”
She crumpled the note and was about to toss it out when Anna snatched it from her. “Hey!”
“I think this might be legit, Bela,” Anna said, unfolding the note and scanning it, “I’d recognize it if it were Gabe’s or Balthazar’s hand. Maybe there’s a wizard out there who has an interest in you.”
Despite herself, Bela began blushing. “I wouldn’t read too far into it. The last bloke who fancied me was Uriel and we all know how well that went.”
Wizard likes witch, witch likes wizard. Witch and wizard go on date. Wizard gets too fresh with witch and witch hexes wizard. It didn’t help that it was the most popular wizard in Ravenclaw house that she had hexed. By the morning after, what little reputation she had was as good as ruined and nobody has tried approaching her since.
“Not everyone has as many wandering appendages as Uriel the Kraken,” Anna said, with the hint of a sympathetic smile.
Bela brushed her off, reminded of the sweat and grime that covered her skin beneath the Quidditch cloaks as they stuck to her like a second skin. She really needed to get that shower she’s been craving. But the persistent bouncing of the package as it made her bedside table rattle finally got to her so with a defeated sigh, she snatched it up and tore off the wrapping paper.
“Bloody don’t have the patience for this,” she grumbled. But her fingers paused when she realized what she was holding.
“Oh…that’s kind of….generic…” Anna said, with a bit of a frown.
But Bela’s eyes had softened even as the package continued to shake in her hands, the enchanted toad-shaped chocolate peppermint trying to escape from its box. It was her favorite treat from Honeydukes, a detail about herself that her own closest friends often forgot (she can’t recall how many times Sam or Jess came back from Hogsmeade and handed her a chocolate frog).
“You’re right. Wizards. They think they can charm us by increasing our waist lines.”
And with a forced eye roll, Bela tossed the gift on her bed and headed for the dorm’s showers.
*
Bela wanted to forget all about the gift and for the most part, distracted herself with homework and other things on Monday evening. She may not always be the best student in her class but even her assignment on countering dangerous hexes was more worthy of her time than thinking about who sent her the peppermint toad. Or, at least, that’s what she told herself.
By Tuesday morning, when she again returned to her dorm room after Quidditch practice to find another package and a note, she figured that someone out there was trying too hard. She pretended that her heart didn’t skip a beat or that her expression softened when she carefully pulled away the wrapping to reveal a new copy of Magical Relics and other Major Twentieth Century Discoveries. She had been pestering Castiel for his copy for more than two weeks now but he had had lent it to Dean who was using it for his History of Magic essay. An essay, she couldn’t help but bitterly think, he was procrastinating worse than usual. This had only made Bela more and more impatient each time she demanded that Dean get his ‘arse’ in gear so she could have a chance to read it.
Bela’s not as into reading as some of her friends but being the daughter of two Muggle Archaeology Professors from Cambridge University, she grew up with a strong appreciation for pre-modern cultures, most particularly theories and mythos related to ancient relics and their discoveries. Now that she knew the existence of magic, it piqued her curiosity to learn which of the ‘mythos’ from the Muggle world was fact in the wizarding world.
She almost forgot the note as her fingers ran over the smooth cover of the book.
“Affection is not lost but late, Between the Gryffin and the Snake.”
…what?
She frowned at the note. There was no doubting in her mind that this was a clue to the sender’s identity. And it wouldn’t take an Arithmancy specialist to decode which House her admirer was claiming to hail from. But it didn’t make sense: what business did a Gryffindor have chasing after a Slytherin?
Her opportunity to broach the issue arrived sooner than she expected. As she spent the first half of her morning trying to figure out the sender’s identity, she seemed to forget one important detail: she had Double Defense Against the Dark Arts with Gryffindor just before lunch. While her and Dean hadn’t exactly reached the BFF stage (it didn’t help that he threatened to hex her if she asks one more time for ‘that fucking book’), their grudging tolerance of one another in the same clique was slowly becoming less strained these days and with any luck, he might provide some insightful information.
As she entered the classroom, she made a beeline towards Dean’s desk and plopped down beside him.
“I need your help with something, Winchester.”
His response came as no surprise to her. “We’ve been over this, Talbot. You so much as say, “book” and I will-“
“-‘hex your face so badly, even the trolls will run in the other direction.’ Right. But this isn’t about the bloody book you should have finished by now.” And she cut him off before he could start protesting. “You need to help me with something else.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to say, ‘please’.”
“Bollocks. If we start being civil to one another, we may have our heads checked and sent to St. Mungo’s,” Bela shot back.
Dean had a look that seemed to say, ‘you gotta point, Talbot’. “So what’s it you need my help with? This better not be a lady thing.”
“Why in the name of Merlin would I go to you with my ‘lady problems’?” she countered.
“It’s always one thing or another with you chicks. First you say, ‘I just need your opinion on this’. And then you blow up at us when you don’t like our opinion. And then when we give you space to cool off, you scream at us for ignoring you. But if we don’t give you space, you scream at us anyway for not understanding. I ain’t falling for that one again.”
“As enlightening as that was-“ and she almost asked who Dean was referring to but could already guess it had something to do with that brief, week-long fling he had with Lisa Braeden a few months back, “-it’s not what I was going to ask about. But I may need your opinion on something.”
“And so it starts.”
“Just drop the ‘my-shits-too-good-for-you’ act for one moment and hear me out, Winchester. I suspect that somebody in your House may have sent a-uh-a letter to me…maybe indicating their interest in me or something along those lines,” she said, dismissing it as if she didn’t care all that much. “There’s no indication of who sent it though so I thought you may know something.”
“…not to put a big hole in your theory, Talbot, but even if someone from Gryffindor was sending you chocolates and roses, what business would he have trying to get in the pants of a Slytherin?”
It scared her, sometimes, to think how similar hers and Dean’s way of thinking was.
“You sure he’s from Gryffindor?” Dean asked.
“He all but said it in the last letter I received,” Bela admitted.
Dean fell silent for a moment, deep in thought. “Seriously…I got nothing.”
“That’s it?”
Dean shrugged. “Whaddya expect? I’m not the guy who knows everything about everyone worth knowing. You want that kind of info, you have to go to Ava and she’d hex you before you get two feet from her. Do you got something I can at least work with, you know, other than the Gryffindor thing?”
Affection is not lost but late…if Bela had to guess, it would mean that this confession came later than her admirer expected. Maybe due to…what? Shyness?
“Maybe it’s someone who’s shy?”
“…I still got nothing.”
Bela was about to press further when a few textbooks were dropped loudly in the space in front of her, causing her to jump in her seat.
“Thanks for keeping my seat warm,” Jo said, standing with her arms crossed over her robes. She waited expectantly for Bela to vacate so she could take her usual seat. Bela didn’t budge.
“There’s gotta be someone in your House willing to date a Slytherin,” Bela started again, ignoring Jo.
“Ronald’s been talking about getting the two houses together so we can hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’,” Dean retorted with his usual brand of sarcasm. “Not sure how you haven’t noticed but Gryffindors don’t date Slytherins. That’s status quo.”
The same could also be said of the Slytherins, from what Bela knew of at least. Balathzar’s dating Rachel deCroix, a 7th year in Hufflepuff, and when Gabriel’s not hot on Kali Kashmira’s heels, rumor has it that he’s fooled around with Pamela Barnes a few times, a 6th year from Ravenclaw. Slytherins tend to date within their House more than the other Houses though, if only to at least satisfy family pressure to keep the dating pool within a pure bloodline.
“I think you’re looking to the wrong house for a boyfriend.”
“Bugger off, Harvelle. Nobody’s asking your opinion.”
“You ‘bugger off’,” Jo said, mocking Bela’s Cambridge accent. “You’re in MY seat and class is about to start.”
“I don’t see your name written anywhere!”
“I always sit with Dean! That’s just how it is!”
“Compelling argument, Harvelle! You gonna write an entire thesis on it?”
Dean threw his hands up in defeat. “I give up! You girls wanna fight, then I’m sitting with Ronald. Hey, Ronald McDonald! Long time no see, man!”
Much to their shock, Dean did just that, grabbing his textbooks and ditching Jo to sit beside Ronald a few desks back. Since first year, Dean and Jo usually sat together in all the classes Dean didn’t share with Castiel so his willingness to break the trend showed just how annoyed he was with their bickering.
Their little spat also didn’t go unnoticed by Professor Rufus Turner, who had just entered the classroom. He glanced over to where the two girls were having their stare down, casually asking, “Is there a problem here?”
Jo was the first to recover, throwing an uneasy smile in the Professor’s direction. “No, sir. None.”
“Discussing the weather,” Bela added, lamely. It was pretty lame; each day hasn’t looked any different from the one before in the middle of the winter season.
“Good to hear, girls. Miss Harvelle, please, take a seat.”
Professor Turner indicated to the seat beside Bela’s, the Gryffindor deciding it best to not question his no-nonsense look and grudgingly dropped in the seat beside the Slytherin. Their classmates immediately began murmuring and Bela could swear that snickering was coming from Meg and Virgil. A glare from Professor Turner, though, silenced the chatter.
There was an expression Bela’s Muggle friends back in Cambridge often used and now seemed as appropriate a time as ever, given her predicament.
Fuck. My. Life.
*
By Wednesday morning, Bela was no longer surprised to find a gift when she returned from Quidditch practice. Unlike the last two, this one was even more modest: a set of hawk feathered quills with ink. Bela couldn’t help but frown, a bit perplexed by this one. She generally used eagle’s feather, like most of the students at Hogwarts. Not that she disliked hawk’s feather. The shades of brown on white formed an intricate pattern and was just as soft to the touch as an eagle’s.
The note left behind was equally as confusing: If the chaser wishes to chase, Without broomstick to seek this face
And that was all.
“Maybe there’s more to it,” Jess suggested later in the day, when her and Bela were having lunch. “You’ve received one note each day, right?”
“So far. But this one makes little bloody sense at all. And the hawk’s quill? I don’t even use hawk’s quill.”
Sam chewed thoughtfully on his salad. “You’re thinking too literally, Bela. It’s not which kind of quill you use but what the feather represents.”
Now it was Bela’s turn to lose herself in her thoughts for a moment. She racked her brain, trying to determine why a hawk’s feather would be the least bit important. After a minute, she couldn’t help but shrug helplessly.
“I think I’ll need more than a metaphor to work with.”
Jess couldn’t help but smile. “I’m a bit surprised you haven’t figured it out yet. It’s actually kind of clever.”
“There’s a reason I was sorted into Slytherin and not Ravenclaw,” Bela retorted, now starting to get a little annoyed. “Are you two gonna spill?”
Sam and Jess quickly exchanged a knowing look. Deciding that Sam would do the honors, the Ravenclaw said a single word. “Patronus.”
Oh. Well, now Bela did feel a bit ridiculous for not figuring it out herself.
“You’re saying that whoever sent this knows my patronus is a hawk?” she asked.
This wasn’t exactly common knowledge either. The only people who have ever seen her patronus were the other Slytherins and Hufflepuffs in her third year Defense Against the Dark Arts class as well as her current classmates in DADA since they had to review their patronuses for the upcoming O.W.L.s. She had also mentioned her patronus to Sam and Jess last semester when they were learning how to make their patronus.
“It seems plausible. That, or they thought you use hawk’s feathered quills.”
“Maybe it’s from one of your DADA classmates?” Sam suggested.
That wasn’t unreasonable, seeing as Bela did have that class with Gryffindor. But of her Gryffindor male classmates, Dean, Ronald, Corbett, and Isaac, none of them had ever expressed any interest in her. Sure, her and Dean had kissed but that had been about as enjoyable as Professor Crowley’s singing. As for Ronald, when the Gryffindor wasn’t in class, he was following Ava Wilson around like a lost puppy. Alan Corbett, or Corbett as everyone liked to call him, had a strange fascination with Ed Zeddmore that bordered on homosexual, bringing Bela back to her earlier theory about Gryffindor. And as for Isaac Prewitt, him and Bela have never so much as exchanged two words.
“Unless Dean’s switching teams, I think it’s safe to rule out the blokes in DADA,” Bela concluded.
Thursday failed to clear up the many questions Bela had regarding her admirer’s identity. When she returned to her dorm in the morning, all she found was a note sitting on the bedside tabletop.
Then tonight when the clock strikes 9, I'll be waiting where Burke and wall align
“So will you go?!” Jess shouted in the dining hall at lunch, trying to speak over the singing dwarf reciting a romantic ode to Kali a few seats down from them.
Bela and her friends grimaced when the dwarf belted out, “My heart turns into jelly whenever I think of my dear, sweet Kali.” There was no doubt in her mind as to who wrote and sent this to the 7th year Ravenclaw. “It’s not as if I have anything else to do!”
“Way to feel the love, Talbot!” Dean threw in, cringing when the dwarf hit an exceptionally long, high note. “Try not to be too excited!”
As envious as Bela may be of her friends and their budding romances, she wasn’t one for Valentine’s Day. Even drinking in the sights of the dining hall, with pink and red hearts strewn throughout and dwarves running back and forth to deliver gifts and love songs, she was a bit relieved that she wouldn’t have to further humiliate herself by being seen somewhere like Madame Puddifoots. It was embarrassing enough that she was considering a romantic rendezvous with someone whose identity she still wasn’t sure of.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one feeling humiliated.
“Gabriel Milton, I will hex you until you can’t tell your face from your ass!” Kali shouted, causing the dwarf to squeal and jump out of the way as the Ravenclaw stormed over to the Slytherin table. The atrocious lyrics had been enough to draw many of the students’ attention to the now red-faced Kali and one quick glance at Bela’s house table revealed Balthazar and Gabriel laughing uproariously. Figures. Kali brushes Gabriel off for Valentine’s Day and Gabriel dishes out his vengeance the only way he knows how: he pisses her off further. Bela’s seen the pattern many times before. The angrier Kali is, the more likely they’ll get back together soon.
“My admirer has declared himself a Gryffindor and may be in our DADA class. In all likelihood, it’s either Ronald or Isaac so apologies if I’m a little underwhelmed,” Bela said dryly.
“Ronnie’s got a good head on his shoulders and Isaac’s as good as they come,” Dean said, defensively. “You get in a tight spot and he’ll help you out.”
“I don’t think Bela has a problem with who they are but the fact that they are essentially strangers to her,” Castiel chipped in, in a quiet voice. His astuteness and way of reading people always surprised Bela, even after years of friendship.
“The Gryffindor thing is a bit…odd…but it’s not that big of a deal. I’m not as obsessed with the House rivalry as some of my housemates,” Bela added.
Dean snorted. “Right. You and Harvelle only tear each other a new hole whenever you so much as see each other.”
Bela’s cheeks heated up in a way that surprised her. “That’s-it’s different. She always starts it!”
“I’ll think I’ll send back that second serving of ‘bullshit’ you’re dishing out,” Dean shot back.
Sam cut in before the argument could go any further. “So, you figured out where your mystery wizard wants to meet?”
Bela kept a glare fixed on a now smug looking Dean and responded. “Where Burke and wall align. The only ‘Burke’ I know of is Elizabeth Burke. You know, that mean-spirited wench whose portrait hangs by the entrance to the Dungeons.”
Most Slytherins adored the old witch who often advised them to be “nasty to mudbloods”. Bela had to resist the urge to hex the old bag every time she walked by her portrait.
“That’s an odd choice for a meeting place.”
Bela shrugged in response to Jess. “It’s convenient for me. Though I may curse her if she tries to give me any ideas.”
The rest of lunch went by quickly, with teasing being directed by both the Winchester brothers. Dean kept pestering Sam about his pseudo date with Jess while Sam wouldn’t let it go that Dean was being dragged to Madame Puddifoots. Each time Sam rubbed it in, Dean had to withhold any angry and offensive retorts since the starry eyed look on Castiel, and the slight pink of his pale cheeks, was endearing enough to have even the tough-spirited Gryffindor fake his enthusiasm.
“I know you don’t really want to go,” Castiel said as him, Bela, and Dean exited the dining hall to get to their classes. Guilt flashed on the Hufflepuff’s face and he adverted his eyes in an expression that seemed to indicate his shame.
“Nah, it’s cool, Cas,” Dean said, brushing it off and grinning. “First time for everything, right?”
With a small smile, Castiel took Dean’s hand and gently squeezed. “Thank you.”
Looking abashed, Dean blushed but hid it with a forced, stern look. “But don’t think this is a yearly thing. Once is enough.”
Seeing the way Castiel and Dean exchanged looks, Bela almost felt as if she were intruding. This was the kind of connection she hoped to one day have with someone and it was this hope that made her endure her distaste for Valentine’s Day and brought her to the Dungeon entrance later that evening.
Part 2
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, Hogwarts-verse, Romance, Teen Angst, Fluff
Pairings: Bela/Jo, Dean/Cas, Michael/Kali, Gabriel/Kali, mentions of Bela/Michael, Sam/Jess, Balthazar/Rachel, Tessa/Andy
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Slash, Language
Word Count: 13 000
Summary: With Dean and Cas becoming a more "official" couple and Sam and Jess all but admitting their feelings for each other, Bela starts to feel a bit left out. But as Valentine's Day approaches, she begins receiving mysterious gifts.
A/N: So this has embarrassingly been sitting on my desktop for well over two months now (okay, maybe three). It was written as part of my Hogwarts AU verse, inspired by cafe-de-labeill's artwork. Unlike all the other parts, this one was written from Bela's point of view. I'm not a big fan of femslash and had intended on putting Bela with a male character but my muse was hit with sudden inspiration and, well...this was the result.
Apologies for any errors. I did my best to edit this on my own but I am also finishing up a Big Bang fic and my entry for the dc_everafter challenge. Supernatural characters and the Hogwarts universe are the creations of Eric Kripke and J.K. Rowling, respectively.
“You didn’t tell me SHE was going to be here.”
In classic angry Jo fashion, the 5th year Gryffindor crossed her arms over her red and gold Quidditch robes, eyebrows drawn together in irritation. Her words had come out in a hiss, louder than she intended. But then again, Bela wouldn’t have put it past the Gryffindor to make her dissatisfaction known to everyone within screaming range.
From where Bela stood a few meters away, she could see Jo glaring up at Dean (with his growth spurt last summer, he nearly towered over all the other fifth years) who, unlike most of the male sex in this school, had the audacity to grin sheepishly instead of cower. Although Harvelle was small for her age, she had the presence of a 15-foot tall giant on a Muggle-eating rampage. “So I may have left out a few details.”
“A few details?!” Jo’s voice had hitched until it was almost a shriek and her cheeks grew red as she lowered it. “You know I won’t play Quidditch with one of ithem. Unless it’s to kick their asses in a House match.”
“It’s just one game, Jo,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Nobody said you two had to become BFFs and start braiding each other’s hair.”
Jo looked ready to retort but reluctantly bit her lip and looked away. It was then that she caught Bela’s eyes and realized that the Slytherin had heard everything that transpired between them. Maybe in another time and place, when Bela had more insecurities and not years worth of putting up with blood purity shit in Slytherin, she may have been more hurt by Jo adopting that typical Gryffindor behavior and projecting all her hate onto anything from the snake-emblem House. But Bela knew how to put on a facade and besides, if it hadn’t been fun to torment the little lion, their house hatred for each other would have gotten old years ago.
Drawing up to her full height (which was, thankfully, a good 4 or 5 inches on Jo), Bela sauntered over, all sass and arrogance wrapped in a silver-and green robed package. “Afraid your mum’s gonna ground you for playing in the sandbox with a snake? Don’t worry, I left my cursing spells and dark potions back in the dungeons.”
“Even if I hadn’t been raised to avoid your kind,” Jo responded, shoulders tensing in a defensive stance, “I’d still know a rat when I see one.”
“Ouch, love, that hurt,” and for emphasis, Bela mockingly clutched at her heart with a gloved hand, “You get your insults from the back of a Bertie Bott’s Magical Flavored Beans package? Bugger me if anything thought provoking ever comes out of your mouth.”
“Give me five minutes and my fists will exchange some ‘thought-provoking’ words with your face,” Jo shot back, rolling up the sleeves of her Quidditch robes.
“Girls, girls,” Dean said, laughing nervously and standing between them, “I like a chick fight as much as the next dude but I’m freezing my balls off here. Save the ‘hissing and kissing’ for later.”
Both Bela and Jo made a face at Dean, Bela quirking a brow when she noticed the angry flush of Jo’s face. Her nose was already a nice shade of pink, the winter air being the culprit from where the group stood in the Quidditch pitch, boots and robes slightly damp from the snow, but Bela couldn’t help but think that maybe if she could be bothered to really think about it, Jo almost looked cute when she was angry.
“You guys coming or what?”
The three looked up from where Sam was hovering on his broomstick, Jess and Castiel not far from him. Adam Milligan, the 3rd year Gryffindor seeker, was flying around the pitch, looping through the scoring rings in the same way that a sprinter would jog across the track to warm up his legs. The air was still relatively cold on the morning of that first Saturday of February and Bela was surprised that even Dean had managed to crawl out of bed, given his aversion to doing anything but sleeping before noon. But Castiel had asked and there were few things the Hufflepuff could request that Dean would say ‘no’ to.
“Oh, you know me, Sammy: just making some time for the ladies,” Dean responded, winking up at his brother. Sam shook his head in agitation while Castiel made a pained face. Seeing that expression though, even if it was in jest, always made Dean come undone and he quickly blurted, “Gotta let ‘em down easy, Cas, you know, since I got you ‘n all. This face has done more harm than goo-Ouch, Jo, the fuck?!”
Dean rubbed the back of his head and glared at his friend.
“Grow tits and a pussy; then we’ll talk.”
Jo mounted her broom and launched out of the snow, causing white powder to spew all over Bela and Dean. Dean brushed off snow from his Gryffindor colored Quidditch robes, mumbling, “Stupid, Jo. You can’t grow vaginas.”
If there’s one thing that Bela admired about Jo…well, maybe admired was too strong a word. If there is one thing she tolerated with Jo, it was Jo’s ability to put the hard-headed older Winchester in his place. Not that Jo’s interest in the fairer sex, and only in the fairer sex, was really a secret-Winchester had walked right into that one. Bela wondered if they were putting something in the Gryffindor’s water bottles to make their Quidditch team go gay.
Give it another year and their official robes will be rainbow-colored. Bela wasn’t sure about homosexuality in the wizarding world, seeing as being Muggle-born and raised made her naïve of most things outside of Hogwarts, but she has a feeling that the meaning of something like rainbow-colored robes would be lost on most of the students at Hogwarts.
“Hey guys, I’m not late, am I?”
Dean and Bela turned to where Maggie was trudging towards them through the snow, in full Hufflepuff Quidditch gear with broomstick in hand. Trailing close behind her was-
“No.”
Maggie stopped in front of Dean, eyes widening. “Please.”
“No. Hell no. Fuck no. No!”
“They said they’ll behave.”
“No,” Dean said again, expression stern.
Ed Zeddmore, Maggie’s older brother, and his best friend Harry Sprangler, both were carrying broomsticks and were clad in old, worn robes. Neither of them played Quidditch (Bela would be surprised if they even knew how) but the two 5th year Hufflepuffs stood their ground and didn’t seem ready to be taking ‘no’ for an answer.
“Dean’s just scared cause we got moves he’s never seen,” Ed said.
“It’s ok to feel intimidated by our awesomeness,” Harry continued, smirking. “We get that a lot.”
Dean’s jaw twitched.
“They, uh-they said one of them could play keeper,” Maggie said, voice hopeful.
Well, if one of them pissed Dean off, the chaser could always deck them with a quaffle. Bela had seen Dean do that to Sam on numerous occasions. “Fine. But if one of you bozos falls off your broom, I ain’t carrying you to the medical ward.”
Dean launched up into the pitch to meet up with Sam and the others. As Bela and the others followed suit, the Slytherin couldn’t help but be impressed by the turnout for this impromptu get together. Only the night before, Castiel had told his friends that the Hufflepuff practice scheduled for this morning was scheduled since two of the Campbells had come down with a bad flu. This left the pitch open and since Castiel and Maggie still wanted to get some air time, they decided to invite their friends out before Slytherin would take the pitch for the afternoon. Since the match next Saturdays would be Ravenclaw versus Slytherin, Bela wanted to get as much practice in as she could, being Slytherin’s newest addition to the team and having a lot riding on her to prove herself. It didn’t help that Slytherin was still recovering from their loss to Gryffindor back in November.
Once all of them were in the air, a heated debate began over how the teams would be split up-Bela and Jo refused to be on the same team, Dean didn’t want to be on the same team as Harry or Ed, Harry refused to be on the opposing team of Maggie, Adam wanted to play with Dean and Dean decided that he had to be on the same team as Castiel. After 10 minutes of arguing, the teams were split into Dean, Sam, Jo, Jess, and Adam, and Castiel, Harry, Ed, Maggie, and Bela. With Jess and Ed taking the keeper positions on opposite ends of the pitch, Bela was grateful for Castiel’s willingness to be more diplomatic than anyone else and accept being separated from Dean.
“I still think Cas shoulda been on my team,” Dean continued to grumble.
“Then you’d have two seekers, Dean,” Castiel responded, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder from where he hovered beside him. “It would have been detrimental to the structure of your team.”
He leaned over to kiss Dean’s rosy cheek, earning a sound of mock disgust from Jo. Dean shot a glare at her.
“Save it for the after game showers, Winchester.”
Both Dean and Castiel blushed and it was then Sam’s turn to make a sound of disgust. “There’s not enough scourgifying spells in Hogwarts that can wipe that image from my brain. Thanks, Jo.”
“Any time, Sammy.”
“Hey, only I can call him ‘Sammy’,” Dean protested.
And after another 10 minutes of attempting to break up Dean and Jo’s bickering, enchantments were placed on the bludgers and snitch and the game was underway. Castiel and Adam each took the position of seeker for their respective teams while Bela and Maggie played their usual positions as chasers and Harry was handed a bat to take on the beater position, despite Dean’s complaints over giving Harry blunt objects. On Dean’s team, Jo took her usual position as beater while Sam and Dean played chasers.
The first half hour of play had gone relatively smoothly, minus Dean’s little explosion at Harry after he successfully (much to the shock of everyone) redirected a bludger at Dean’s head. While Harry feigned appearing somewhat apologetic, in the way that, “I can’t help that I got moves like Yoda on this broomstick!” can sound apologetic, he looked a bit too pleased at himself from then on, even if most of his attempts to strike the bludger ended with him being struck by the bludger. Ed didn’t fare much better, taking the brunt of the few goals Dean could afford to throw with a face full of quaffle when the keeper got too snarky. By the third time it happened, Sam couldn’t help but reprimand his brother.
“Geez, Dean. What are you, five? Lay off a bit.”
“We’re up 50 points on them. It’s not like they can afford to have us not go easy on them,” Dean bragged.
“Stop buggering around,” Bela cut in. “Bring your game before we hand your arses to you.”
“And what makes you think you can take us?”
Bela inclined her head in Castiel’s direction, where the Hufflepuff seeker was flying not far above the snow, a look of complete concentration on his face as he searched for the snitch. With their easy win against Ravenclaw a few weeks ago, Castiel was quickly proving to be the school’s best seeker and a force to be reckoned with in the pitch. Although Adam had aided Gryffindor’s win against Slytherin last semester, it was only because the Slytherin seeker, Raphael, had taken a nasty tumble and that secured the Gryffindor win. Adam was still new to the sport and even now, watching him try and match Castiel’s swift and confident movements, the Hufflepuff seeming as if he were born to fly, it was apparent to everyone that Adam still had a lot to learn.
Even Dean couldn’t deny his boyfriend’s skill as he stared proudly at Castiel as he maneuvered around the rings. “Good point. It’s on, Talbot!”
Another hour into the game and Dean’s team was now leading 100 points, bringing the total score to 140-40. Although Jess and Ed were not Quidditch players, Jess often played with her friends and had more practice as a keeper. The weariness was showing in everyone, from the way their shoulders slouched to their sluggish swerving when trying to avoid the bludgers. Bela was quite weary as she moved across the pitch, quaffle in hand, and the knowledge that she would have to drag herself back out here in the afternoon made her start to regret her decision to play Quidditch this morning.
“I’m wide open!” Maggie called.
Bela turned in Maggie’s direction, maneuvering her broomstick to allow an easy pass of the quaffle. But as the Hufflepuff chaser caught the quaffle, she shouted a warning to Bela. However, it was too late. Jo and Bela cried out as their broomsticks crashed together and tumbled towards the earth. In all the chaos, both of them regained their control and now hovered a meter above the snow, Bela clutching her side and Jo holding onto her right shoulder and wincing.
“What the fuck was that, Talbot?! Your grandmother teach you how to fly?!”
Everyone knew Bela was the first in her family to attend a wizarding school. The implication that her flying was so bad that she must have been taught by a Muggle was not lost on her.
Bela’s cheeks flared a dark shade of angry red. “That’s bollocks, Harvelle, and you know it. Ever heard of keeping your eyes on the air in front of you?!”
“Don’t you pin this on me! You crashed into me!”
“I had the quaffle and you clearly were interrupting a play!” Bela shouted back. “Wizards who know how to play would have called you for blatching!”
“Right, I should take advice from a Slytherin on how not to foul,” Jo shot back, her glare as venomous as her bite. “You Slytherin foul so often you think it’s part of acceptable play!”
“At least we don’t go crying to the refs every time a foul is called against us!”
“Wow, is that so? We must be watching different matches because all Slytherin ever does is piss and moan!”
“Keep spewing rubbish and you’ll have some more pretty bruises to match the ones on your shoulder!”
“Your side still hurting, Talbot? Because that’s not all that’ll be hurting when I’m through with you!”
Both Bela and Jo withdrew their wands, Jo’s bat dropping into the snow below. The commotion had already attracted the attention of their friends, Jess and Sam dropping down between them to act as peace makers before the girls started screaming curses left, right, and center.
“Guys, it was just an accident! We all saw it! You need to calm down!” Jess pleaded.
“Nobody did it on purpose!” Sam said, glancing over at Dean for help.
“What?” Dean said, shrugging at Sam’s annoyed expression. He indicated to Bela. “She did kind of insult Gryffindor.”
If she weren’t seriously considering an unforgiveable curse on Jo, Bela would have smirked when Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation at Dean. Typical, typical Gryffindor.
But seeing the look Jess was giving her, one of her closest friends at this school, Bela relented and lowered her wand. That was the moment she received a face full of snow.
“Oh, it’s on, Harvelle!”
She pushed past Jess and launched off her broom, crashing into Jo and causing both of them to tumble into the snow. The snow was nearly a meter deep, easily cushioning their landing, and the next few moments were a blur of white, gold, and red as Bela hissed and clawed at Jo, pulling at that blond ponytail, yanking at her robes, shoving the Gryffindor back into the snow whenever she tried to stand. The shouts all around them as everyone else dropped into the snow became white noise over the insults the two girls threw at each other.
“Bitch!”
“Prat!”
“Whore!”
“Trout!”
“Cun-“
Bela now had Jo straddled beneath her in the snow, hands clutching her Quidditch robes, both girls soaked to the bone from the tumble. But as they attempted to continue their string of insults, they found to their shock that no words passed through their open mouths.
“Silencio does come in handy every now and then,” Jess remarked, looked unusually smug. “And there are only so many sexist derogatory insults I can take in a day.”
“Nice one, Jess.”
Bela shot Sam a disapproving look but allowed herself to be pulled off of Jo when Maggie offered her a hand up. Jo was still seething with anger and had to be held back by Dean once she was back up on her feet.
“Easy there, Harvelle. No good will come if you two kill each other out here. Quidditch season isn’t over yet,” Dean joked.
“Why’d you stop the girl fight?” Ed whined, earning him an angry look from Maggie. This also silenced the protests Harry was about to make.
“What’s going on?”
Castiel was still on his broomstick, head tilted curiously as he looked around the group. Adam joined him a moment later.
“Oh, you know, Superman and Lex Luthor just duking it out,” Dean said, indicating to Bela and Jo.
Castiel looked even more confused.
Dean sighed. “Seriously, Cas. You really need to start reading comics.”
“…I caught the snitch,” he offered, helpfully. He handed the golden object to Dean.
“I think we’re about to call it a day, any way,” Jess said, looking pointedly at Bela and Jo. “That is, unless you two want to stand out here and fight all day.”
The silencing charm was just starting to wear off. Bela was the first to recover. “I’m not apologizing.”
“Ditto,” Jo chimed in.
“Whatever. But if you two chicks want to duke it out some more, freeze your asses off. I’m gonna get me some pie,” said Dean.
As the friends parted ways, some heading to the Quidditch pitch locker rooms and others opting to use the facilities in Hogwarts to clean up, Jo and Bela exchanged one final, heated look and only just managed to avoid further arguing lest they invite the ire of their friends.
*
By Sunday evening, Bela’s entire body was sore. She had spent most of Saturday out on the pitch and had just come out from another Slytherin practice. With the upcoming Ravenclaw game, it meant both teams were fighting for time on the pitch and that meant Slytherin would be practicing every morning for the rest of the week until the game this Saturday. She was starting to wonder if maybe she had been a bit over-zealous in her decision to join the team this year.
Not that she hated the game. She loved Quidditch but being in Slytherin meant playing for Slytherin and while she had house pride, she disliked most members of her team with the exception of the 7th years Gabriel Milton and his cousin, Balthazar Flynn. They didn’t fuss as much as the rest of the team had over blood purity, despite coming from ancient bloodlines, and if Gabriel weren’t intent on being public enemy number one with his constant pranking, he’d almost be a good guy.
What was really getting to Bela though was not just the impact that training was having on her body but the feeling that it was almost for nothing. Most of her team would sooner find an excuse to replace her (Purist bigotry) than encourage her growth, were it not for the fact that everyone else who had tried out this year paled in comparison to her swift maneuvering on a broomstick (a fact she will grudgingly have to thank Dean Winchester for some day since being in their little clique meant being dragged out to the pitch often). Not only that, she hadn’t realized how lonely it was being officially a rival in the game. It had been easier in previous years when Sam and Jess dragged her to watch when Dean or Castiel played. Now, though, any time Slytherin would play, her friends would always cheer the team she was playing against, whether it was Gryffindor (Dean’s team), Hufflepuff (Castiel’s), or Ravenclaw (Sam and Jess’ house).
She tried not to let it get to her, to rationalize that it was just how things were, but that didn’t hide that little twinge of pain she felt whenever she noticed her friends in the opposite stands of the pitch and realized that her own House only cheered for her, not because they particularly liked her as a player, but because they had to. When Dean and Castiel weren’t playing each other, they cheered each other on. Bela wished someone would cheer her on for once.
As she entered the dining hall, she pushed away her bitter thoughts. She could already see Dean and Castiel seated with Sam and Jess at the Hufflepuff table and made her way over. In her haste, she bumped shoulders with someone considerably taller than her and the impact caused her to stumble back a step. She looked up, annoyed glare already fixed on her face, only to feel her expression soften and a blush tinge her cheeks.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stuttered, suddenly feeling flustered.
Michael, blue eyes cold and golden hair tousled in a way that was so wildly sexy that it seemed to contradict the Gryffindor Head Boy’s no-nonsense and strict attitude, looked down at her coolly and indifferently, in a way that seemed to say he expected respect but hadn’t a clue how to dish it back. It wasn’t just his good looks alone that had all the girls at Hogwarts tripping to get in the 7th year’s good graces; his authoritative and air of indifference made him come off as a wild animal only begging to be tamed. So maybe Bela’s joining of the flock was the stuff that Muggle romance novels were made of (a summer hobby she wasn’t about to own up to without a fight), but there was something about the Gryffindor captain’s nonchalance had heat pooling to all the right places in her body and her hormones going into over-drive.
“A miscalculation,” he offers, without so much as a note of care in his voice. He moves to walk passed her but Bela’s voice trembles as she speaks up, grasping at straws to gain even a further moment of his attention.
“Y-your t-team is, uh, well, you’ve been playing well this year,” she offers, lamely.
Michael’s brows furrow a little, possibly the most emotion she has ever stirred in him in the handful of times she found the courage to talk to him these last few years. “We lost to Hufflepuff in the opening of the season.”
She waited for him to continue but he seemed to have deemed this a sufficient response to counter her compliment, stated it so dryly that it seemed he felt it incredulous she would even imply his team could possibly be good. She was about to delve further when that confused look on his face deepened. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Okay, so this was embarrassing. But maybe she was expecting a bit too much to have him remember her name when they weren’t in the same year. “I-I play for Slytherin.”
“Ah,” is all he said and walked away.
Right. Not the best attempts at interaction but at least it’s a start. She willed herself to look away and not stare at his retreating form, trying to will away her humiliation from the failed conversation.
She walked over to the Hufflepuff table and took a seat between Castiel and Tessa. However, she hadn’t so much as settled down when a voice from across the table cut in.
“Slytherin’s table is that way.”
Bela glared at Jo’s pointed finger. “And Gryffindor’s is over there. You have a point you’re trying to make, Harvelle?”
“If both of you continue to bicker like children, I will have to ask you to leave,” Tessa warned, indicating to her Prefect badge to let them know she meant business. But being that she is Tessa, her expression softened a moment later. “Otherwise, you are both more than welcome to stay.”
Bela wanted to know why Jo suddenly decided to eat with her friends but decided it wasn’t worth upsetting Tessa who really wouldn’t hesitate to use her clout as a Prefect to keep the peace. Not that Jo also wasn’t good friends with everyone in their clique, minus Bela, but the Gryffindor had never expressed any interest in eating with them before. However, she was Dean’s best friend, outside of Sam and Castiel (and really, neither counted anymore since they also share the titles ‘brother’ and ‘boyfriend’ respectively), so it would naturally make sense that she would want to hang out with Dean.
“It’s not a date!” both Sam and Jess exclaimed, interrupting Bela’s thoughts.
“Sounds like a date to me, Sammy. The sooner you reel her in, the better,” Dean said, winking.
Red-faced, Jess dropped her eyes, suddenly finding the array of food in front of them more interesting even though her dinner was hardly touched. While Sam was equally embarrassed, he wasn’t about to back down his defense.
“We won’t get any work done at the Astronomy tower because…well, you know what usually goes down there,” and if possible, Sam’s face went redder, “so, uh, Jess suggested we take along our telescope and some food and go down to the lake instead. At least this way, we can finish our assignment for Friday.”
Dean sighed. “Only you two nerds would turn a date into a study group. Ouch!”
Sam smiled triumphantly and Dean began rubbing his sore shin under the table.
“Whatever happened to this being the season of good tidings and cheer?” Dean complained.
“That’s Christmas you’re thinking of, Winchester,” Bela piped in. “Valentine’s Day is just about exchanging spit, killing plants, and getting fat off of chocolate.”
“Or for those of us who don’t have a stick up our ass, it’s about showing our love to those we care about,” Jo pointed out. “And dragging boyfriends out to Madame Puddifoots for the night.”
“There’s no way in hell you’ll ever catch me dead at Madame Puddifoots,” Dean said, with a groan. “You’d have to be so whipped to step foot in that joint.”
When Castiel heard that, his expression dropped and he sadly mumbled, “…I’ve always wanted to go to Madame Puddifoots…”
“And that’s where I’m taking you for Valentine’s Day!” Dean exclaimed, forcing a grin. “I, uh, wanted it to be a surprise but, uh, you caught me, Cas!”
Castiel smiled and with the way his blue eyes suddenly lit up, even Bela didn’t have the heart to point out Dean’s hypocrisy. Jess, Jo, and Sam snickered, earning them none-too-pleasant glares from the older Winchester.
“So do you have any plans for Valentine’s day, Tessa?” Jess asked.
It was now Tessa’s turn to be embarrassed. “Andy had asked if I was free on Thursday…but he didn’t say what it is we’ll be doing…”
And seeing how everyone around the table lit up with talk of Valentine’s Day made that sting of bitterness return. Bela tried to keep a pleasant smile on her face but all she could about was how nobody had ever so much as looked at her with any interest. It wasn’t that she was unattractive (at least not in her opinion) with her honey brown, shoulder length hair, grey-blue eyes, and modest curves. But being in Slytherin didn’t exactly put her at the top of anyone’s list and her lack of relationships with anyone in her own house didn’t help matters. It wasn’t that someone in Slytherin couldn’t find a mate outside of their house, Gabriel and Balthazar being shining examples of that, but she also didn’t have the charisma to forge friendships with anyone who caught her eye.
“How about you, Jo?”
From where Jo was seated across from Bela, the Slytherin noticed the Gryffindor stiffen. “Valentine’s day’s not really my thing. All the good chicks are already taken.”
The laugh that followed was as uneasy as it was forced but Jo didn’t give anyone a chance to inquire further. She went into the recent standings for the Quidditch League that she had read in the weekend edition of the Daily Prophet, eventually getting into an argument with Dean over who would take the cup this year. But even as Jo’s discomfort was forgotten, Bela couldn’t help but think how difficult it must be to be openly gay at Hogwarts since it not only opens one to everyone’s judgment but also limits the dating pool. If she could admit it to herself, she would almost say she pities Jo.
“It seems every time I search for my team, all I have to do is wander over to another house’s table.”
That cool voice that interrupted Bela’s thoughts and the Quidditch argument reintroduced the warmth Bela had felt earlier when in the Gryffindor’s presence. Michael was standing behind Dean, expression as cold as ever, save for the slight twitch of his lips that almost indicated an annoyed scowl. His icy blue eyes shot between Dean and Jo, making everyone else feel openly ignored.
“You know I’m all for house unity, peace on earth, and all that jazz,” Dean joked. “Anything up, Mikey?”
Michael appeared to deem this an appropriate time to express some emotion and did little to hide his look of disapproval. “You know very well what I think of that nickname, Dean. Yet I’m in no mood to discuss your lack of decorum. I came to inform you that we will have practice on Tuesday during the lunch hour.”
“Seriously?” Dean groaned, posture drooping. “Some of us like to eat at lunch.”
“I was recently reminded that our team has not been performing to its full potential this year,” and when he said that, his eyes flickered to Bela, as if only just realizing she was sitting at the Hufflepuff table, “I felt it would be best that we prepare well in advance for next month’s match. I expect both of you to arrive promptly on Tuesday. Understood?”
“Loud and clear, fearless leader,” Jo chimed in, sarcastically. Evidently, she also wasn’t thrilled about a lunch hour practice.
Without another word, Michael walked back towards the Gryffindor table. Unable to resist, Bela’s eyes remained glued on his retreating figure.
“’Best we prepare in advance?’ Right, because it’s not like we don’t already practice 3 days a week,” Dean complained, shoveling a piece of pie into his mouth. Even his usual favorite apple pie didn’t seem to pacify his mood. “And ‘decorum’? Really? Someone needs to pull out that broomstick shoved up his ass.”
Sam sighed. “You’re doing a great job at not proving his point, Dean.”
While the Winchesters bickered yet again (was that all they ever did?), Bela’s attention was brought back to the table when Jo, of all people, addressed her.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for him to notice you.”
Bela dipped her head to hide her blush, taking a bite out of her salad. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“I can give you a hint: he’s got the social skills of a boggart and the personality of a rock. If he weren’t part veela, I don’t think any self-respecting witch would give him the time of day.”
“Michael’s part veela?”
The question was out before Bela could stop herself. She had heard the rumor some time ago but had never given it much thought. It would certainly explain his extraordinary good looks, the veela having been known for beauty that easily can lure a man to his death. From what little Bela had learned of them in her Magical Creatures textbooks, they were the equivalent of Sirens in Greek Myth.
“Grandmother’s a veela,” Jo said, shrugging. “It’s not really that uncommon. The St. Onge’s aren’t as pure-blooded as some think but they’ve never hooked up with Muggles or Muggle-borns.”
Bela stiffened. “That’s of little concern to me.”
“As much as I like cutting you down a peg, I’m not trying to be a bitch,” Jo continued and if Bela could believe it, the Gryffindor did sound a bit apologetic. Odd. “But unless you change your bloodline, grow a bigger pair of tits and maybe switch houses while you’re at it, I don’t think he’ll be coming around any time soon. That, or you can always take some polyjiuce potion. I don’t think I need to tell you which witch you need to resemble to get tall, stiff, and humorless’ attention.”
And to hit the nail on its head, it was that moment that Kali Kashmira, a 7th year Ravenclaw, walked by Michael and he was instantly on her heels like a lovesick puppy. Anyone who knew the status quo at Hogwarts wouldn’t even have to turn to Slytherin’s table to recognize Gabriel’s familiar flair of jealousy. Both Gabriel and Michael had marked each other as rivals for Kali’s attention ever since 4th year when the Ravenclaw first grew her set of modest b’s (maybe not huge but still larger than Bela’s). Since then, she has been dating both of them on and off, her natural dark and sultry looks turning both men into putty in her hands.
Truthfully, Bela had always felt that Kali’s affections leaned more towards Gabriel. But Gabriel’s childish behavior and pranking often wore the Ravenclaw’s patience quite thin and she would then jump to Michael, easily more superior to Gabriel in everything except personality. If Bela’s suspicions were correct, it was always successful at keeping Gabriel in line, even if only temporarily.
“I think you’re reading too far into things,” Bela argued, choosing to stubbornly not relent. But the sick feeling of knowing the Gryffindor was right, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, made her suddenly lose her appetite.
“And I think you need to stop getting so defensive,” Jo tossed back. “I’m just telling it as it is.”
“Well if I wanted a bloody reading, I’d go to Professor Mosely for that.”
Making it clear that the discussion was over, Bela stood up and stalked out of the dining hall without so much as a ‘good-bye’ to her friends.
*
There were many things Bela expected on a Monday morning. Warm food was one of them. Maybe hot porridge and freshly cut slices of apple sprinkled with cinnamon. Or a hot shower. After these torturous early morning Quidditch practices in the freezing cold, burying her body deep in the steam of a piping hot shower was nothing short of heaven, the heat working her tired muscles like an eager lover.
A small package, decorated with only a bow and bouncing on top of her bed stand was not one of the things she expected in her sweaty and bone-worn state. She had just returned from the pitch, opting to shower in the privacy of her dorm since sharing a locker room with the Slytherin beater, Meg Masters, who often viciously gossiped to anyone within hearing range about the atrocities of everyone who wasn’t her, was less appealing than being pursued by an army of boggarts riding horntail dragons. It only served as a reminder that Bela shares a dorm with the fellow fifth year and hell, after 5 years of this, wasn’t she entitled to a bit of peace in the mornings?
Bela stared at the package again, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “And you’re certain this isn’t another of your brother’s pranks?”
She remembered last year in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day how Gabriel had managed to prank every girl in every house, his own house not excluded (bloody traitor). It had been simple, really. He jinxed all the gifts that the house elves delivered on behalf of Hogwarts’ male population and within that week, every girl daring enough to eat her fudge flies or chocoballs broke out into everything from boils to warts. And the roses…just a single sniff was enough to cause a steady flow of mucus to dribble for a good hour or two. By Valentine’s Day evening, most of the witches at Hogwarts had locked themselves in their rooms and refused to venture outdoors, courtesy of their Anonymously Yours.
Bela had luckily just avoided the prank, even though Gabriel had made sure roses and chocolate were sent to everyone. Her skepticism and general pessimism on Valentine’s Day made her moodily toss the items in the garbage. But many others hadn’t been so lucky, including Gabriel’s own on-and-off flame, Kali Kashmira. Not surprisingly, she was the reason Gabriel orchestrated the whole prank to begin with. Bitter with their recent break-up, he had thrown a fit when he learned she had went back to Michael and would be spending Valentine’s Day with the Gryffindor. In his post-breakup state, it seemed nobody in Hogwarts had been safe from his ire. A semester’s worth of detention and then some later and Bela couldn’t help but wonder if Hogwarts was about to experience Round 2 of Gabriel’s bitterness given his recent falling out with Kali.
“Gabriel swore he wouldn’t perform such a large scale prank after mother threw a fit over his threatened expulsion,” Anna responded, shrugging. “Not that it’s ever stopped him. Our parents have dished out every punishment short of throwing him out on the street, yet he somehow always gets away with murder in the end.”
It really was a miracle. The Miltons, an ancient family made up of blood purists, were as conservative and obsessed with maintaining a superior image in the wizarding world as the Alderwoods, that it was mind boggling how they allowed their first born son to get away with half the shit he pulls. Bela would like to think its love but from the few things Anna has said about her family, it was a grudging tolerance and a constant push to change their son that kept Gabriel from being written out of the will.
“Well, that’s encouraging,” Bela mumbled, taking a step back from where the package bounced on the table stand. She raised her wand. “I suppose we’ll have to do this the hard way.”
She cast an anti-jinx spell on herself and slowly approached the table. As the table rattled, she noticed an unopened note beside the gift. Hesitantly, she picked it up and tore open the seal.
“I have this secret I must confess,” Bela read, “It is you that I admire best. Huh.”
Anna moved closer to Bela, eyes opening wide. “Who do you think it’s from?”
“I’m not sure.” The hand writing didn’t look familiar at all. “Whoever it is though, they should work on their lyrical skills.”
She crumpled the note and was about to toss it out when Anna snatched it from her. “Hey!”
“I think this might be legit, Bela,” Anna said, unfolding the note and scanning it, “I’d recognize it if it were Gabe’s or Balthazar’s hand. Maybe there’s a wizard out there who has an interest in you.”
Despite herself, Bela began blushing. “I wouldn’t read too far into it. The last bloke who fancied me was Uriel and we all know how well that went.”
Wizard likes witch, witch likes wizard. Witch and wizard go on date. Wizard gets too fresh with witch and witch hexes wizard. It didn’t help that it was the most popular wizard in Ravenclaw house that she had hexed. By the morning after, what little reputation she had was as good as ruined and nobody has tried approaching her since.
“Not everyone has as many wandering appendages as Uriel the Kraken,” Anna said, with the hint of a sympathetic smile.
Bela brushed her off, reminded of the sweat and grime that covered her skin beneath the Quidditch cloaks as they stuck to her like a second skin. She really needed to get that shower she’s been craving. But the persistent bouncing of the package as it made her bedside table rattle finally got to her so with a defeated sigh, she snatched it up and tore off the wrapping paper.
“Bloody don’t have the patience for this,” she grumbled. But her fingers paused when she realized what she was holding.
“Oh…that’s kind of….generic…” Anna said, with a bit of a frown.
But Bela’s eyes had softened even as the package continued to shake in her hands, the enchanted toad-shaped chocolate peppermint trying to escape from its box. It was her favorite treat from Honeydukes, a detail about herself that her own closest friends often forgot (she can’t recall how many times Sam or Jess came back from Hogsmeade and handed her a chocolate frog).
“You’re right. Wizards. They think they can charm us by increasing our waist lines.”
And with a forced eye roll, Bela tossed the gift on her bed and headed for the dorm’s showers.
*
Bela wanted to forget all about the gift and for the most part, distracted herself with homework and other things on Monday evening. She may not always be the best student in her class but even her assignment on countering dangerous hexes was more worthy of her time than thinking about who sent her the peppermint toad. Or, at least, that’s what she told herself.
By Tuesday morning, when she again returned to her dorm room after Quidditch practice to find another package and a note, she figured that someone out there was trying too hard. She pretended that her heart didn’t skip a beat or that her expression softened when she carefully pulled away the wrapping to reveal a new copy of Magical Relics and other Major Twentieth Century Discoveries. She had been pestering Castiel for his copy for more than two weeks now but he had had lent it to Dean who was using it for his History of Magic essay. An essay, she couldn’t help but bitterly think, he was procrastinating worse than usual. This had only made Bela more and more impatient each time she demanded that Dean get his ‘arse’ in gear so she could have a chance to read it.
Bela’s not as into reading as some of her friends but being the daughter of two Muggle Archaeology Professors from Cambridge University, she grew up with a strong appreciation for pre-modern cultures, most particularly theories and mythos related to ancient relics and their discoveries. Now that she knew the existence of magic, it piqued her curiosity to learn which of the ‘mythos’ from the Muggle world was fact in the wizarding world.
She almost forgot the note as her fingers ran over the smooth cover of the book.
“Affection is not lost but late, Between the Gryffin and the Snake.”
…what?
She frowned at the note. There was no doubting in her mind that this was a clue to the sender’s identity. And it wouldn’t take an Arithmancy specialist to decode which House her admirer was claiming to hail from. But it didn’t make sense: what business did a Gryffindor have chasing after a Slytherin?
Her opportunity to broach the issue arrived sooner than she expected. As she spent the first half of her morning trying to figure out the sender’s identity, she seemed to forget one important detail: she had Double Defense Against the Dark Arts with Gryffindor just before lunch. While her and Dean hadn’t exactly reached the BFF stage (it didn’t help that he threatened to hex her if she asks one more time for ‘that fucking book’), their grudging tolerance of one another in the same clique was slowly becoming less strained these days and with any luck, he might provide some insightful information.
As she entered the classroom, she made a beeline towards Dean’s desk and plopped down beside him.
“I need your help with something, Winchester.”
His response came as no surprise to her. “We’ve been over this, Talbot. You so much as say, “book” and I will-“
“-‘hex your face so badly, even the trolls will run in the other direction.’ Right. But this isn’t about the bloody book you should have finished by now.” And she cut him off before he could start protesting. “You need to help me with something else.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to say, ‘please’.”
“Bollocks. If we start being civil to one another, we may have our heads checked and sent to St. Mungo’s,” Bela shot back.
Dean had a look that seemed to say, ‘you gotta point, Talbot’. “So what’s it you need my help with? This better not be a lady thing.”
“Why in the name of Merlin would I go to you with my ‘lady problems’?” she countered.
“It’s always one thing or another with you chicks. First you say, ‘I just need your opinion on this’. And then you blow up at us when you don’t like our opinion. And then when we give you space to cool off, you scream at us for ignoring you. But if we don’t give you space, you scream at us anyway for not understanding. I ain’t falling for that one again.”
“As enlightening as that was-“ and she almost asked who Dean was referring to but could already guess it had something to do with that brief, week-long fling he had with Lisa Braeden a few months back, “-it’s not what I was going to ask about. But I may need your opinion on something.”
“And so it starts.”
“Just drop the ‘my-shits-too-good-for-you’ act for one moment and hear me out, Winchester. I suspect that somebody in your House may have sent a-uh-a letter to me…maybe indicating their interest in me or something along those lines,” she said, dismissing it as if she didn’t care all that much. “There’s no indication of who sent it though so I thought you may know something.”
“…not to put a big hole in your theory, Talbot, but even if someone from Gryffindor was sending you chocolates and roses, what business would he have trying to get in the pants of a Slytherin?”
It scared her, sometimes, to think how similar hers and Dean’s way of thinking was.
“You sure he’s from Gryffindor?” Dean asked.
“He all but said it in the last letter I received,” Bela admitted.
Dean fell silent for a moment, deep in thought. “Seriously…I got nothing.”
“That’s it?”
Dean shrugged. “Whaddya expect? I’m not the guy who knows everything about everyone worth knowing. You want that kind of info, you have to go to Ava and she’d hex you before you get two feet from her. Do you got something I can at least work with, you know, other than the Gryffindor thing?”
Affection is not lost but late…if Bela had to guess, it would mean that this confession came later than her admirer expected. Maybe due to…what? Shyness?
“Maybe it’s someone who’s shy?”
“…I still got nothing.”
Bela was about to press further when a few textbooks were dropped loudly in the space in front of her, causing her to jump in her seat.
“Thanks for keeping my seat warm,” Jo said, standing with her arms crossed over her robes. She waited expectantly for Bela to vacate so she could take her usual seat. Bela didn’t budge.
“There’s gotta be someone in your House willing to date a Slytherin,” Bela started again, ignoring Jo.
“Ronald’s been talking about getting the two houses together so we can hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’,” Dean retorted with his usual brand of sarcasm. “Not sure how you haven’t noticed but Gryffindors don’t date Slytherins. That’s status quo.”
The same could also be said of the Slytherins, from what Bela knew of at least. Balathzar’s dating Rachel deCroix, a 7th year in Hufflepuff, and when Gabriel’s not hot on Kali Kashmira’s heels, rumor has it that he’s fooled around with Pamela Barnes a few times, a 6th year from Ravenclaw. Slytherins tend to date within their House more than the other Houses though, if only to at least satisfy family pressure to keep the dating pool within a pure bloodline.
“I think you’re looking to the wrong house for a boyfriend.”
“Bugger off, Harvelle. Nobody’s asking your opinion.”
“You ‘bugger off’,” Jo said, mocking Bela’s Cambridge accent. “You’re in MY seat and class is about to start.”
“I don’t see your name written anywhere!”
“I always sit with Dean! That’s just how it is!”
“Compelling argument, Harvelle! You gonna write an entire thesis on it?”
Dean threw his hands up in defeat. “I give up! You girls wanna fight, then I’m sitting with Ronald. Hey, Ronald McDonald! Long time no see, man!”
Much to their shock, Dean did just that, grabbing his textbooks and ditching Jo to sit beside Ronald a few desks back. Since first year, Dean and Jo usually sat together in all the classes Dean didn’t share with Castiel so his willingness to break the trend showed just how annoyed he was with their bickering.
Their little spat also didn’t go unnoticed by Professor Rufus Turner, who had just entered the classroom. He glanced over to where the two girls were having their stare down, casually asking, “Is there a problem here?”
Jo was the first to recover, throwing an uneasy smile in the Professor’s direction. “No, sir. None.”
“Discussing the weather,” Bela added, lamely. It was pretty lame; each day hasn’t looked any different from the one before in the middle of the winter season.
“Good to hear, girls. Miss Harvelle, please, take a seat.”
Professor Turner indicated to the seat beside Bela’s, the Gryffindor deciding it best to not question his no-nonsense look and grudgingly dropped in the seat beside the Slytherin. Their classmates immediately began murmuring and Bela could swear that snickering was coming from Meg and Virgil. A glare from Professor Turner, though, silenced the chatter.
There was an expression Bela’s Muggle friends back in Cambridge often used and now seemed as appropriate a time as ever, given her predicament.
Fuck. My. Life.
*
By Wednesday morning, Bela was no longer surprised to find a gift when she returned from Quidditch practice. Unlike the last two, this one was even more modest: a set of hawk feathered quills with ink. Bela couldn’t help but frown, a bit perplexed by this one. She generally used eagle’s feather, like most of the students at Hogwarts. Not that she disliked hawk’s feather. The shades of brown on white formed an intricate pattern and was just as soft to the touch as an eagle’s.
The note left behind was equally as confusing: If the chaser wishes to chase, Without broomstick to seek this face
And that was all.
“Maybe there’s more to it,” Jess suggested later in the day, when her and Bela were having lunch. “You’ve received one note each day, right?”
“So far. But this one makes little bloody sense at all. And the hawk’s quill? I don’t even use hawk’s quill.”
Sam chewed thoughtfully on his salad. “You’re thinking too literally, Bela. It’s not which kind of quill you use but what the feather represents.”
Now it was Bela’s turn to lose herself in her thoughts for a moment. She racked her brain, trying to determine why a hawk’s feather would be the least bit important. After a minute, she couldn’t help but shrug helplessly.
“I think I’ll need more than a metaphor to work with.”
Jess couldn’t help but smile. “I’m a bit surprised you haven’t figured it out yet. It’s actually kind of clever.”
“There’s a reason I was sorted into Slytherin and not Ravenclaw,” Bela retorted, now starting to get a little annoyed. “Are you two gonna spill?”
Sam and Jess quickly exchanged a knowing look. Deciding that Sam would do the honors, the Ravenclaw said a single word. “Patronus.”
Oh. Well, now Bela did feel a bit ridiculous for not figuring it out herself.
“You’re saying that whoever sent this knows my patronus is a hawk?” she asked.
This wasn’t exactly common knowledge either. The only people who have ever seen her patronus were the other Slytherins and Hufflepuffs in her third year Defense Against the Dark Arts class as well as her current classmates in DADA since they had to review their patronuses for the upcoming O.W.L.s. She had also mentioned her patronus to Sam and Jess last semester when they were learning how to make their patronus.
“It seems plausible. That, or they thought you use hawk’s feathered quills.”
“Maybe it’s from one of your DADA classmates?” Sam suggested.
That wasn’t unreasonable, seeing as Bela did have that class with Gryffindor. But of her Gryffindor male classmates, Dean, Ronald, Corbett, and Isaac, none of them had ever expressed any interest in her. Sure, her and Dean had kissed but that had been about as enjoyable as Professor Crowley’s singing. As for Ronald, when the Gryffindor wasn’t in class, he was following Ava Wilson around like a lost puppy. Alan Corbett, or Corbett as everyone liked to call him, had a strange fascination with Ed Zeddmore that bordered on homosexual, bringing Bela back to her earlier theory about Gryffindor. And as for Isaac Prewitt, him and Bela have never so much as exchanged two words.
“Unless Dean’s switching teams, I think it’s safe to rule out the blokes in DADA,” Bela concluded.
Thursday failed to clear up the many questions Bela had regarding her admirer’s identity. When she returned to her dorm in the morning, all she found was a note sitting on the bedside tabletop.
Then tonight when the clock strikes 9, I'll be waiting where Burke and wall align
“So will you go?!” Jess shouted in the dining hall at lunch, trying to speak over the singing dwarf reciting a romantic ode to Kali a few seats down from them.
Bela and her friends grimaced when the dwarf belted out, “My heart turns into jelly whenever I think of my dear, sweet Kali.” There was no doubt in her mind as to who wrote and sent this to the 7th year Ravenclaw. “It’s not as if I have anything else to do!”
“Way to feel the love, Talbot!” Dean threw in, cringing when the dwarf hit an exceptionally long, high note. “Try not to be too excited!”
As envious as Bela may be of her friends and their budding romances, she wasn’t one for Valentine’s Day. Even drinking in the sights of the dining hall, with pink and red hearts strewn throughout and dwarves running back and forth to deliver gifts and love songs, she was a bit relieved that she wouldn’t have to further humiliate herself by being seen somewhere like Madame Puddifoots. It was embarrassing enough that she was considering a romantic rendezvous with someone whose identity she still wasn’t sure of.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one feeling humiliated.
“Gabriel Milton, I will hex you until you can’t tell your face from your ass!” Kali shouted, causing the dwarf to squeal and jump out of the way as the Ravenclaw stormed over to the Slytherin table. The atrocious lyrics had been enough to draw many of the students’ attention to the now red-faced Kali and one quick glance at Bela’s house table revealed Balthazar and Gabriel laughing uproariously. Figures. Kali brushes Gabriel off for Valentine’s Day and Gabriel dishes out his vengeance the only way he knows how: he pisses her off further. Bela’s seen the pattern many times before. The angrier Kali is, the more likely they’ll get back together soon.
“My admirer has declared himself a Gryffindor and may be in our DADA class. In all likelihood, it’s either Ronald or Isaac so apologies if I’m a little underwhelmed,” Bela said dryly.
“Ronnie’s got a good head on his shoulders and Isaac’s as good as they come,” Dean said, defensively. “You get in a tight spot and he’ll help you out.”
“I don’t think Bela has a problem with who they are but the fact that they are essentially strangers to her,” Castiel chipped in, in a quiet voice. His astuteness and way of reading people always surprised Bela, even after years of friendship.
“The Gryffindor thing is a bit…odd…but it’s not that big of a deal. I’m not as obsessed with the House rivalry as some of my housemates,” Bela added.
Dean snorted. “Right. You and Harvelle only tear each other a new hole whenever you so much as see each other.”
Bela’s cheeks heated up in a way that surprised her. “That’s-it’s different. She always starts it!”
“I’ll think I’ll send back that second serving of ‘bullshit’ you’re dishing out,” Dean shot back.
Sam cut in before the argument could go any further. “So, you figured out where your mystery wizard wants to meet?”
Bela kept a glare fixed on a now smug looking Dean and responded. “Where Burke and wall align. The only ‘Burke’ I know of is Elizabeth Burke. You know, that mean-spirited wench whose portrait hangs by the entrance to the Dungeons.”
Most Slytherins adored the old witch who often advised them to be “nasty to mudbloods”. Bela had to resist the urge to hex the old bag every time she walked by her portrait.
“That’s an odd choice for a meeting place.”
Bela shrugged in response to Jess. “It’s convenient for me. Though I may curse her if she tries to give me any ideas.”
The rest of lunch went by quickly, with teasing being directed by both the Winchester brothers. Dean kept pestering Sam about his pseudo date with Jess while Sam wouldn’t let it go that Dean was being dragged to Madame Puddifoots. Each time Sam rubbed it in, Dean had to withhold any angry and offensive retorts since the starry eyed look on Castiel, and the slight pink of his pale cheeks, was endearing enough to have even the tough-spirited Gryffindor fake his enthusiasm.
“I know you don’t really want to go,” Castiel said as him, Bela, and Dean exited the dining hall to get to their classes. Guilt flashed on the Hufflepuff’s face and he adverted his eyes in an expression that seemed to indicate his shame.
“Nah, it’s cool, Cas,” Dean said, brushing it off and grinning. “First time for everything, right?”
With a small smile, Castiel took Dean’s hand and gently squeezed. “Thank you.”
Looking abashed, Dean blushed but hid it with a forced, stern look. “But don’t think this is a yearly thing. Once is enough.”
Seeing the way Castiel and Dean exchanged looks, Bela almost felt as if she were intruding. This was the kind of connection she hoped to one day have with someone and it was this hope that made her endure her distaste for Valentine’s Day and brought her to the Dungeon entrance later that evening.
Part 2