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oneirataxia-girl · 9 months

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⇝ DRABBLE -- The Faeries In The Woods

this is the first piece of writing i've done in MONTHS, @ariparri the cardverse au has me in a chokehold and this is the product of annoyed & tired alvita doing everything she can to get her mind off schoolwork, ended up writing the first draft in one day (???! i am astonished by this too) and uh yeah, it's rough it's not my usual style but hey, my writing skills are basically the equivalent of sandpaper in terms of roughness so it's definitely going to be bad no matter what lol quick author's note before we get started though: for those who've known me since my hphm phase, you might recognize the "faeries in the woods" as the arcane-zheng family who i criminally ignored in favor of building the alvina/talbott ship (yes i am aware that it was a mistake), but while the basic setup of the fae family is still the same, they all have completely different names which i hope i'll be able to introduce to you guys in a later piece; this is more like "setting the vibe" word vomit than anything tbh. but hope you guys enjoy!!

You're a child, barely able to run without stumbling once or twice; you've met the kids on either side of your house and the ones a little further away too, and you've all got the thirst for information your parents say is natural for a Club to have.

The forest has been off limits ever since you remember, but that doesn't stop you from running with your playmates to the clearing barely a one-minute walk in the woods, nor does it prevent the answering frenzy your parents were in to get you back to the village.

"Don't ever go near the place!" Your papa yells at you, "If the fairies --"

Your mama makes a noise you can't understand, and Papa stops talking in favor of trapping you in a big bear hug. You giggle and wrap your own arms around him too, and you forget all about the silver stars staring at you from the edge of the clearing.

You're older now, knobbly knees decorated with scrapes and bruises from your frequent meetings with the stony ground; your friends are older too, and you all start to wonder why the forest is always shrouded in the dark, even when the sun shines high in the noon sky.

Ma cuffs you on the head for asking, but you keep at it, chipping away at her resolve and Pa's in search of an answer.

Eventually, Pa tells you that all will be revealed when you're eleven.

Eleven? You're barely half past the age of eight! It's going to be ages until you learn anything about the forest.

Pa and Ma are always telling you to fight in your chase for knowledge, and this is something to learn, no? So in order to find your explanations, you gather your best friends and pool your wits together to pursue the thing your family and kingdom puts so much importance on: answers.

Your merry troop marches on the pebble-lined path into the forest as soon as your best friend and a boy you don't like come up with a plan.

You come out of the forest drenched in red; some of it yours, most of it from the barely-breathing boy being rushed to the medical building.

You're not a kid anymore now, scrapes long faded into light scars; not all of your friends are older, and you wonder if the one that is gone was taken away by the faeries.

Faeries, not fairies, because you know now that the things lurking in the trees aren't sparkling-winged fairies ready to grant you a wish, but monsters with silver eyes and teeth stained crimson with the blood of their victims. Pa tells you this while Ma rolls up her left sleeve for the first time in your memory to show you the scars she got from the fae family -- probably the mother of the current set of spawn, she tells you.

"How do you know?" You ask her, leaning your head on her lap.

Ma lifts her arm, the raised skin of the healed wound darker than the rest of her skin, "No animal has claws that can do this kind of damage, Darling."

Your forehead wrinkles as you take in this information, and presently you ask whether it could be a weapon.

Pa shakes his head this time.

"If it was a person, they would've been found soon after they went into the forest," He tells you.

"Maybe they're very sneaky," You argue, "Or maybe they always get in and out from the Spades' side of the woods."

But even as you speak the words, you know that they were just that: words.

No human has stayed in the forest for over a day and survived. The longest surviving one was Ma, trapped in a bog for about sixteen hours on a forage for herbs.

Pa pulls aside later to tell you that when they found her, she was muttering about silver-eyed fae and how they gave her a "message to deliver."

She doesn't remember any of that.

You're tying your bootlaces by yourself now, mentally cataloging the plants you're supposed to provide to help make the prototype for a new distress signal; your friends have all grown up as well, some of them left the village for bigger things and some stayed behind with you, none of them are willing to go back to the forest without a weapon by their side anymore.

Can't fault them, you're the same, too.

The only stars you see are the ones in the night sky, fiery balls of gas that live light years away from the small village on this side of the Clubs-Spades border, and you're forcibly reminded of a time when silver stars plague your head.

You shake said head before you stand up to walk towards the academic buildings. The doctors said it'd get better in time, but sometimes you feel like it's only getting worse.

As you kick away stones in your trot, you bump into a girl -- short and thin, with a mane of dark hair that reaches her waist, she turns around and you take note of the dark shades hiding her eyes and the shaky step she takes to get away from you.

A green cape covers most of her top half and you frown when you notice that both the green fabric and the dark tights she wears are ripped. Did she run away from home? Why was she wearing dark glasses?

"Irene!" Comes a call, you turn to see a older guy with the same dark glasses stride towards the girl. His clothes were also worn, and you catch a few sympathetic glances thrown their way by some of your fellow villagers.

Not from the village, that much was clear. Maybe they were running away from Spades, you hear that they're in terrible turmoil and its people are leaving in whatever way possible.

All hearsay though, no evidence has ever come by to confirm this.

The guy throws an arm around the girl and you notice that he has the same twig-like frame, barely a head taller than the girl; he has the same messy hair though, and he barely spares you a glance before dragging his sister away.

You watch their backs retreat, and you notice that their feet don't make a sound on the gravel ground.

You shrug your shoulders and continue on your way, pebbles crunching underfoot as you walk.

Perhaps the refugee rumors are true after all.

You're finally allowed to drink in the open now, grin wide as you accept your first glass of beer from your ma and act as if you aren't used to the bitter taste linger after you swallow; your friends cheer and clap you on your back, even the ones that went to the big cities, for everyone still alive had come back to celebrate your birthday. You clink your glass with a shy smile at one of your best friends and tip your head back to chug the rest of the beer in one go.

Pa gives you a suspicious look. You try coughing to pretend that it didn't go down like water. It doesn't seem to work, but he only brings a finger to his lips and turns away.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Second, third, and fourth mugs of beer come and go; you toss jokes and barbs at your friends and shrug off their laughing sneers. Conversation flows like your drinks and it eventually follows dirt-strewn trails to the shadowy woods just a few steps from the village borders.

"You remember the faeries our parents used to scare us with?" One of your friend asks, cheeks ruddy from the alcohol.

They've come back from the city just for your birthday, so you bite your lip and stifle the urge to correct their mistake.

Another one of your friends does it for you, this one having lived in the house a five-minute walk from yours for their whole life; it sparks a debate whether there is anything in the forest other than the typical trees that make one lose all sense of direction and odd creatures.

Silver stars blink on the very edge of your vision. You turn around and see nothing but yellow light bathing your party. You turn back and ignore the feeling of something watching you.

Feelings -- such fickle things, you muse, making think there hid things when there are none. No wonder why your kingdom stresses the importance of logic and reasoning.

A fist punches your shoulder, it's your best friend, smile as lopsided as the day you two met, "What do you think? You reckon faeries live there?"

The rest of the chatter dies, eyes waiting for your answer expectantly.

Licking your lips, you hesitate to give an answer. You still recall the silver stars bursting in your head and the wails of your friends, but they seem sharper than they should be, and the stars now just seem like normal migraine-induced sights.

The window allows you to look out at the forest. It's as dark and gloomy as always, not a lick of life shakes its leaves.

Then, your mug crashes onto the floor.

Three -- no, four -- figures emerge from the depths of the woods, three of them with silver stars for eyes; the last one to emerge stands still while the six silver stars blink in unison, the only one to have the faint outline of their silhouette be the only thing separating them from the night.

You hear an exhale close to your ear and you realize that everyone has piled up behind you. It's your ma, she has a hand on your shoulder and you spot the scars running down her arm when your turn your head to look at her.

Her grip on your shoulder tightens and her face goes pale. Whirling your head back to the clear glass, you see six silver eyes pointing directly at you.

A drum starts pounding in your head, so you close your eyes for a fraction of a second to shush it. You open your eyes to meet a sea of black outside your window.

Nothing was left of the four creatures, not even a crunch of a footstep.

A beat.

"What," Someone finally says, "Was that?"

You want to say it was the faeries, but those are anything but fae.

You're woken up by the sound of shouting now, and you leap out of bed when the iron tang of blood assaults your nose.

Bootlaces untied, you run out to carnage: you think someone screams when you see Ma lying on the floor motionless, and you follow the direction of the scars on her arm to see Pa.

Their fingers just barely brush each others'.

Your throat burns a white-hot pain and you crumple to the floor and you crawl to the window to see bodies on the gravel ground. You slide down and close your eyes and beg for this to be just a beer-induced nightmare.

A resounding boom shakes your eardrums and your stomach drops further when you register where the sound came from:

The distress signal. The one you helped to make.

Shouts turn to cries and whimpers and gasps, and then even those are cut off. You glance at Grandma's door and decide you don't want to open it.

Nothing disturbs the gravel path before the front gate squeaks open. You press yourself closer to the wall.

Moonlight bleeds into the room as the front door clicks open, you wonder whether you'll be able to make a run for it.

"Swear I could hear a heartbeat in here."

"Don't these --" You watch as someone seemingly nudges your ma's top half -- "have a kid? You two saw them before, right?"

You think you would remember seeing monsters with silver eyes --

oh.

You did see them before, they just weren't dumb enough to show their eyes.

A cry leaves you as the collar of your jacket yanks you up. Six silver eyes blink at you.

"Sorry," No flash of fangs glitter from the speaker's mouth, "Blame your friend for this."

You struggle and claw at the vice grip on your collar tightening.

You sputter as you suddenly drop to the ground. You think you see white lights and you wonder if you've joined your family as shouts grow near.

Something is shoved in your mouth and you want to wail as the bitter taste of the thing infects your mouth.

A blinding glare shoots through every opening your home has. The three creatures hiss and crouch down to escape the light. They start talking, and you work on getting the foul-tasting thing out of your mouth.

A growl jerks you from your endeavor. You see the smallest of the three standing.

"It's the only way." One of the other two states simply.

The small one scoffs and the light turns her dark hair into a rippling waterfall, "Don't tell me you think we can't take a couple more humans out."

The other speaker turns her head to look at you -- silver stars framed by wide eyes, no flash of teeth when she opens her mouth to say -- "There's only going to be more of them the longer we stay."

"So we should all go!"

"Too dangerous," It's the guy, the one who dragged his younger sister away that time you bumped into her. She's the one they're convincing to do something.

You don't catch the rest of the conversation, your eyes are getting heavier by the second, everything's gone out of focus...

The last thing you hear is a chilling howl, and the last thing you see is Ma offering her scarred arm for you to grab.

#not proofread whole so its probably messy #but i just wanted to get it out #also irene is NOT one of the faerie siblings' names!!#“you” simply heard it wrong lol #pls feel free to clown with me in this for i fear there is no sign of me stopping #and i don't even have a face claim for any of them yet 😭#alvita’s writing

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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“Can you remember who I was? Can you still feel it? Can you find my pain? Can you heal it? Then lay your hands upon me now And cast this darkness from my soul... You alone can light my way -- You alone can make me whole Once again...”

~“Crossroads” by Don McLean

x~x~x~x

The meandering spirit called the Wanderer had once -- a long time ago -- been a wandering young man from Massachusetts, hoping to evade the draft notice trying to send him off to Vietnam.

Alas, the winter of 1971 was not a good time for anyone to try to run away on their own with little money and no assistance in dodging the Feds. Although in the beginning, the young man -- who had used the name “Orion Amari” for years both despite and because of it not being the formal name on his draft notice -- was able to hobble by, staying for a night with any other anti-War “free spirits” with enough psychedelic substances to share that he could find. But finally his luck ran out in New York in January 1972, on the state’s coldest day on record that year.

It was a mere 4 degrees out, and Orion found himself stuck in a terrible snowstorm out in the middle of nowhere. He wandered and wandered through the blinding white for what felt like days, his second-hand guitar smacking against his back with each plodding step and his senses disoriented both by the biting, numbing cold and from his body craving a good marijuana hit that was out of his reach. After an eternity of walking through endless snow-capped trees with no destination, Orion stumbled on something that almost felt like a set of stairs. He fell over, right onto what likewise felt like some sort of front porch.

He’d reached a house, part of his brain said -- maybe the family that lived there might let him come inside, just for a short while, if he knocked. But Orion was too cold and numb to move. His mind flickered and died, and he collapsed in a still heap.

If Orion had been able to see his surroundings clearly, he would’ve probably been able to guess that there was no family inside to take him in -- for the front stoop he’d landed on was that of the abandoned Cromwell Manor.

It didn’t take long for the ghostly inhabitants of the Manor to notice they had some not-quite-dead company. Most had already been prepared to wait things out -- after all, when the man did die, he’d be able to join their ranks, as yet another happy haunt. Even the Ghost Host, who expressed a lot of pity for the poor man, acknowledged there probably wasn’t much they could do, aside from making him feel welcome. They were a bit startled, therefore, when an ethereal spirit dressed all in white appeared at the top of the stairs.

The Beating Heart Bride was -- at least, from what most of the other ghosts could gather -- one of those who had resided in the Manor in life...but she also spent the vast majority of her time up in the attic, so as to try to contain the overwhelmingly hostile, vengeful aura that rested there, while the Ghost Host took on managing the rest of the house. But this day the Bride -- looking more physically there than most spirits outside of the Manor thanks to the eternal chanting of Madame Olivia -- actually descended the stairs and crossed to the door to open it, before she with some difficulty actually tried to drag the freezing Orion inside. The Ghost Host immediately rushed to help, and the two together were just barely able to carry him into the house and close the door.

The next few days the Bride stood vigil over their guest, tending to him as best she could. The cold had clearly given him frostbite and worse, without his usual drugs, his body was going into withdrawal, subjecting him to terrible cold sweats and making him shudder violently and vomit even while only half-conscious. Even so, the Bride watched over him, her pupil-less, glowing yellow eyes glinting sadly in the dark as she cleaned his face, brought him water, and tried to soothe his restless dreams by singing to him.

“The day passed away and night coming on, Most of the men were asleep; Lady Margaret appeared all dressed in white, Standing at his bed feet. She said, ‘How do you like your bed? ‘How do you like your sheet? ‘How do you like your fair young bride ‘That's lying in your arms asleep?’ He said, ‘Very well do I like my bed; ‘Much better do I like my sheet; ‘But most of all, that fair young girl ‘That's standing at my bed feet.’”

There were many times, when the Bride would tend to the poor stranger, that the other ghosts of the house openly questioned why she would put in so much work, just to try to prolong his life. After all, death was truly not such a terrible thing -- it was likely he’d be far more comfortable and far happier here in this Manor as one of their residents than living whatever lonely life had brought him to their door in a snowstorm. Even the Ghost Host, when he noticed Orion’s condition worsening, very gently brought this up to her.

“Carey,” he said softly, “we’ll take care of him, if he dies. He can have a home here, with us. We all know death isn’t the end, after all...”

But the Bride was stubborn.

“Just because our lives were cut short doesn’t mean his should be,” she said very firmly. “I’m not going to just stand back and let him die.”

And no one else tried to argue the point with her again.

After three whole days, the man called Orion at last very slowly began to recover. As he did, his senses were so disoriented that at many points, he wasn’t sure when he was dreaming or not...but the image he held onto from that time was a beautiful, sad woman with long hair, cold hands, a quietly thumping heart, and the voice of a guardian angel. That was what she had to be, Orion thought -- a guardian angel...one who was determined to save his life.

Once he was fully conscious again, though, all of the ghosts had disappeared from view -- including the angelic woman who had diligently tended to him for so many days.

Because of the still falling snow, Orion stayed indoors for a day or so more. He would tune and play his guitar and wander around the manor house, and then at night he’d fall asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace, perfectly blasé toward the creaking hinges in door-less chambers and the strange and frightening sounds that would echo through the halls. Even the mysteriously appearing breakfasts of slightly overripe apples, dry bread, and well water left on the floor next to him by the Ghost Host didn’t perturb him. The ghosts living there were kind of baffled by how little this guy seemed to care that he was squatting in a haunted house. But Orion didn’t see how he could have anything to fear. These spirits allowed him to stay -- one of them had even saved his life -- so their aura was good, and considering how freezing cold it was outside, that was good enough for him. And so Orion would play his guitar and absently sing to pass the time, patiently waiting for the weather to improve.

It was while playing one of his favorite Don McLean songs on the upstairs staircase one day that Orion thought he saw a familiar flash of white. When he looked up, though, it had quickly disappeared. His heart giving a leap, he got up and immediately made as if to pursue it down the hall -- and sure enough, it was his Angel: the Beating Heart Bride.

When Orion tried to thank the Bride for saving his life, however, she seemed almost incapable of accepting the gratitude. Instead all she could do was place her hands on his chest as if wanting to push him away.

“Please,” she told him in a very hard, yet quiet voice, “please, don’t come up here again. The Phantom cannot know you’re still here.”

Orion was very confused. “The Phantom?”

“He’s the master of this house. He usually stays in the attic, but he has left it before, when he’s felt threatened. And he was threatened, when I spent so much time downstairs, caring for you. He thought that I had somehow escaped him. I reassured him that I wouldn’t, but he ordered that you not set a foot in this house again.”

“Yet I’ve remained here,” said Orion, frowning confusedly. “Someone has even been making sure I’ve had something to eat, every morning.”

“Well, I could hardly send you out in that,” the Bride said rather tartly, gesturing toward the closest ice-encrusted window. “Let alone starve. I asked the Ghost Host to try to find some food for you.”

Orion’s black eyes softened. “Then...you’re still saving me, even now.”

“I couldn’t do anything else,” the Bride said dismissively. “Now get out of here.”

Her yellow eyes couldn’t reach his face -- instead they were locked right on Orion’s heart, as her translucent gloved hands just managed to hold onto his worn jacket and push him back.

“Go anywhere in the Manor you wish -- but stay away from the attic.”

Orion learned more about his mysterious guardian angel from the other ghosts that occupied the Manor later that day. The Bride had assigned herself the responsibility of keeping the Master of the House -- the violent and vengeful Phantom -- pacified, so that the remainder of the Manor’s residents could live peacefully and contentedly. She very rarely came out of the attic at all, and even those few times she did, it was never too far away from it, for unlike the rest of the ghosts at Cromwell Manor, she could not leave the house. The Ghost Host explained that it had something to do with the engagement ring still on her finger -- when the Bride tried to even cross the threshold of the porch, it glowed like flames on her hand and prevented her from going any further. Although she’d never made her wedding vows, she had submitted to a ring that bound her to another person -- in this case, due to the customs of her time, a man who would have power over her and her affairs -- and so the engagement itself still somehow bound her to the house. Without the other engagement ring, it was likely there’d be no way to break her chains. But that ring had been discarded after the disastrous failed wedding...and after Blaise shut himself up in Cromwell Manor and subsequently hanged himself, no one truly knew what became of it.

The following day, the weather finally cleared enough that Orion would be able to leave the Manor. But when he packed up his guitar and put it back on his back with some under-ripe apples in his pocket and his black brimmed hat dipped over his eyes, he found himself pausing at the gate. He looked up at the house, and...there. There, in the top window...he could see the outline of a figure dressed in gauzy, angelic white, her gloved hand lightly touching the glass as if wishing she could pass through it.

The sight sparked something in Orion. Without giving it any further thought at all, he turned on his heel and strode right back into the house. He took off his hat and put it on the coat tree, dropped his guitar and travel bag by the door, and headed straight upstairs. The Ghost Host tried to circumvent him, but Orion had made up his mind.

“If our Bride doesn’t wish me to reach the attic, then she will have to meet me half-way,” Orion said mellowly without breaking his stride.

The Ghost Host hurried to try to fetch the Bride. He did so by temporarily distracting the Phantom, who was pretty livid at the sight of him, while the Bride rushed down to try to cut Orion off. She ended up colliding with him in the hallway under the attic, almost passing right through him with her hands but just barely managing to grab onto him and trying to shove him back.

“Orion -- Orion, what are you doing!? You have to leave, now!”

“I won’t,” said Orion. “Not until you’re free to, as well.”

The Bride was horrified, but Orion’s black eyes were resolute despite the calmness of his expression.

“I do not know the pain you have suffered, nor could I ever -- but I know the sorrow in your eyes: it’s the sorrow of a caged bird. It’s the sorrow of someone who has never known true freedom, but has never wished for anything more, their entire life -- who longs for it day after day, in a way no one else has ever understood...”

“Orion -- I can’t. I can’t be free -- ”

“Not now, perhaps -- but I cannot believe that an angel such as you has to be locked up in this Hell forever. I cannot believe that that Fate is all that’s meant for you. You have a heart so kind that you’ll save a complete stranger and ask for nothing in return -- so brave that you will care for others even when those with authority over you tell you otherwise...a heart that beats so strongly for others, even after it no longer pumps blood through your veins...”

He tentatively brought a hand up as if to take hers, but it passed right through her hand. There was something of a wince in his mask-like expression.

“...I...I can’t just walk away...knowing a soul like yours is doomed to never fly free.”

The Bride’s glowing yellow eyes seemed to well up with sorrow as they landed on Orion’s Adam’s apple rather than his face.

“There’s nothing you can do, Orion,” she whispered.

But Orion merely smiled. “Do, perhaps, but find, that’s another matter. And I will find it. I’ll find the other half of your set. And once I do...I will set you free. This I swear to you -- ”

How unfortunate it was that the Phantom had evaded the Ghost Host at last and had appeared in time to hear that. And his retaliation against Orion was both swift and brutal.

x~x~x~x

Three decades later, the Bride was once again alerted to Orion coming up toward the attic by her associate, the Arcane Maiden @oneirataxia-girl. Fortunately this time, the Bride was already in the hallway under the attic, making sure that the last of the curtains were properly closed before daybreak, so she was able to materialize at the top of the stairs before Orion could even enter the hall.

“Orion,” the Bride said lowly, “you know you’re not supposed to be up here -- ”

“What more can the Phantom do to me?” said Orion breezily. He held his brimmed hat in his left hand, which was swinging absently at his side. “I’m already dead...”

“That’s NOT FUNNY!”

Orion was startled by how harshly the Bride’s volume had risen. Her heart was thumping louder and her eyes were blazing with anxiety and pain...so much pain, like a turbulent yellow ocean...

She closed her eyes and turned away, and Orion’s nonchalance instantly melted off of him.

“Bride...Bride, I’m sorry...”

He tentatively reached out to take hold of her shoulder in the hand not holding his hat, but his nerves got the better of him. Instead he slowly lowered his hand, even as he took a step toward her so as to whisper in her ear.

“...Please, forgive me...I didn’t mean to upset you...”

The Beating Heart Bride slowly opened her pupil-less eyes. She was quiet for a long moment, before she said softly,

“Why have you come here?”

Orion bit his lip. “Bride...Carewyn...”

The name made the Bride flinch. She whirled around, her yellow eyes very wide and glowing a bit more stormily than before. Orion swallowed, trying to tamp down the anxiety clutching at the inside of his translucent chest.

“...We...we found Jacob. Your brother.”

The Bride looked like she was trying to regain her composure, judging by how stoic of an expression was settling onto her face, but her frothing yellow light was still coming off her eyes, betraying the true turmoil within.

“Mr. Ashe has given him his head back...but he won’t pass on without you.”

The Bride closed her eyes and bowed her head.

“...You didn’t tell Jacob I was here?”

“No,” said Orion, and he was frowning deeply. “But only because the Host told us you didn’t want him to know -- a thought process I must confess I don’t thoroughly understand -- ”

“If he doesn’t know I’m here,” said the Bride softly, “then he can pass on in peace, knowing he’ll see me in the next life.”

“But you believe you’re never to pass on to that next life,” said Orion, and his voice betrayed a rather unusual edge.

The Bride did not answer. Orion’s eyes narrowed.

“Carewyn -- ” started Orion.

“Orion,” the Bride cut him off, “if Jacob returns to the Manor, he will be subjected to the same captivity that I am. The Phantom remains in this world because he has imprisoned me here...I know if he had any inkling that my brother still existed on this plain, he would do whatever he had to to make sure Jacob was under his control again...just like he was, when we were alive.”

Orion’s black eyes grew a little smaller and more troubled.

“So...you aim to lie to your brother, to save him?” he whispered shakily. “Refuse to let him even try to help you? Duncan Ashe has already done so much to help us locate Jacob and narrow down where your other ring might be -- hope has returned here, alongside him...yet now that it has...why do you turn it away? Why do you turn him away, when he could reunite you and your brother and set you free?”

The Bride swallowed and, with some difficulty, she raised her head. Her yellow eyes trailed over the jagged flesh separating Orion’s head and neck, just hidden under his striped ascot, before moving up to look him in the eye.

“...How many people must pay the price for trying to help me break free?” she asked softly.

Orion’s black eyes welled up with anguish.

“Carewyn -- ”

He reached out a hand, wanting to touch her cheek, but she disappeared, rematerializing again further down the hall.

“Carewyn!” his voice betrayed his anxiety openly now. “I won’t leave you -- I -- ”

Orion tried to pursue her, but the Bride held up a hand and he stopped mid-step, left stock-still as she slowly faded away back into the rafters. Her only farewell to him was a song, sung in that ethereal voice worthy of a mourning angel.

“Don't sing love songs -- you'll wake the Master -- He's resting here, right by my side, And in his right hand, a silver hatchet... He says that I can't be your bride.”

#haunted mansion #my art #my writing #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #jacob cromwell #duncan ashe #alvina arcane-zheng #;~; oh carey-bear...you've lost all hope of happiness for yourself...#I had a lot of fun looking up macabre old folk songs #and also yay don mclean <33 #of course orion would be a hippie #what ELSE would he be?#the flame imagery is inspired by a scene in the movie sleepy hollow #specifically right before the horseman goes after the killian family

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immagrosscandy · 3 years

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Alvina in candy’s notebook if it’s okay pls? 👉👈

i hope i didn't got her wrong. please tell me if i did 😅

#alvina arcane-zheng #candy's notebook

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camillejeaneshphm · 3 years

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If writing requests are still open, maybe something with Alvina + Camille? I’d like to see them interact if that’s okay <3

camille tilted her head at the tiny girl standing next to her.

“you mean you didn’t take the spot ?? why ??”

alvina shrugged. “i guess….i dunno. too much on my plate.“

camille nodded thoughtfully. “you come first, after all”. she smiled cheerfully.

alvina sent her a small smile back. it was nice to know she cared.

#hphm #alvina arcane-zheng #camille jeanes #skylar answers #skylar attempts to write

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benscursedkid · 3 years

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Uhh 💰for my MC Alvina and Talbott? It’s alright if you don’t want to do it, no pressure!

💰 - summer job

*I have horrible reception at my grandparents’ house where I’m currently staying so idk when this will post KDKFKF but thank you for requesting and I’m sorry it took so long. I made it a little longer to hopefully make up for it. thank you for your patience!!

*also, just in case you’re confused about ‘Karli’ look no further than here.

Alvina shudders in relief as she feels the rush of cool hair fan across her upon entering the building. This summer has been particularly sweltering and she welcomes the air conditioning. Yet another thing that was worth copying from muggle creations. She really couldn’t thank them enough for this.

She shows her Hogwarts ID at the door before being allowed inside, her destination well in mind.

After awkwardly asking for directions, she crosses a few winding hallways before finding what she was looking for. All around flew owls and even some other creature she can’t quite place. Tiny and fast, but strong enough to carry whole boxes full of files and knickknacks. She could hearing faint buzzing in her ears over all the chatter and the uneven ticking of a far away clock. The desks are all arranged in seemingly no specific order or design. Just wherever they please. Though, to be completely fair, it is a rather large room.

And right in front is just who she wanted to see.

He looks up from his work as she approaches, a look of exasperation on his face. “What are yo—”

“I brought you lunch,” Alvina supplies, lifting up the takeout she’d gotten for the both of them as a show of good faith. “Karli says you usually take your break around this time.”

Talbott rolls his eyes but a prickle of fondness seeps through his exterior. “Traitor.”

“So?” Alvina levels him with a knowing look. “You’re not eating or taking any of your breaks because…?”

“Sorry, I know. I’m just…busy.”

Alvina sighs, placing the takeout on the corner of his desk. “Talbott, you need to find time to take care of yourself even if you’re busy. I can promise you that it's just as important as your work, if not more so.”

“I know, I know.” He repeats again, his shoulders slumping in a show of just how tired he really is.

“Why are you even working here, Tal?” Alvina asks, both confusion and concern laced in her tone. She gestures around as the buzzing room around them. “This isn’t exactly your scene. And The Daily Prophet? Really? You hate Rita Skeeter and I know for a fact that she’s been bothering you because she managed to get ahold of my address to owl me letting me know that ‘My good friend Mr. Winger is here and she’d be happy if I were to visit anytime!’ I think she just wants to start more drama. Surely, you don’t enjoy it here?”

Talbott sighs heavily and looks up at her softly and it takes her aback. “You’re right, Alvina. It’s not the perfect summer job but I do have a reason for applying here.”

Alvina softens. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you do. I just…want you to actually enjoy yourself this summer. It’s our last one before graduation.”

“I know,” Talbott says yet again and after a moment of contemplation, closes the folder laid out in front of him and gives her his full attention. “The truth is…I applied here because my dad used to work here. When I found out they were accepting students for the summer…I guess I just thought that I would feel more…connected to him by being here.”

“Oh, Talbott—”

“And it’s worked a little bit! Some of the employees here knew him and I’ve gotten to chat to some of them, ask about him. They even knew a little about my mom and…” He shakes his head. He tries for a small smile. “I like it here because of that. I want to be here. But you’re right. I promise I’ll do better to take care of myself.”

Alvina smiles genuinely at his admission, her heart full of happiness for him. She hooks her fingers around the take out bag. “So. Lunch then?”

Talbott smiles fully now and nods. “Lunch.”

#hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #mc #hphm jacob’s sibling #jacob's sibling #hphm au #talbott winger #talbott x mc #talbott winger x mc #talbott x alvina #summer prompts #💰#summer job #excerpt #alvina arcane-zheng #talbott winger x alvina arcane-zheng

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stupendousbookworm · 3 years

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I’m really sorry to be asking this but if you want, either Alvina or Hana for the Polaroid doodles? 👉👈

loved the chaos a lot

#ask meg #meg’s mediocre art #alvina arcane-zheng #ywa hana

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adellovesrowan · 3 years

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OHMYGOD IM SO SORRY I SENT THE ASK TO THE WRONG ACCOUNT IM REALLY SORRY YOU DONT HACE TO REPLY TO IT LOL

LAJDFKAJKDJD DW I GOT U

[ on the bottom right corner are doodles of animated sparkles. ]

alvina arcane-zheng

heres another interesting entry, notey. you remember the quiet girl when i first moved into the girls dorm?

alvina is quiet and pretty skittish, in my opinion. shes awfully smart, though, its incredible. she reminds me a lot of rowan... though, much less talkative. i wonder if she just doesnt like people?

i mean, thats understandable. i just hope she realizes we are all there for her, especially when she needs it. well, not sure about anyone else. but i surely will be there for her.

#adel young #alvina arcane-zheng #rowan khanna #jacob's sibling #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #asks #oneirataxia-girl #mine

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magicapandora · 3 years

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Alvina for the notebook ask? And Hana too if it’s okay hehe

Alvina Arcane-Zheng- Ravenclaw

Jun.1st

Alvina is a very mysterious person. I was walking down the halls to my astronomy class when all of my parchment fell from my hands. As I bent down to pick them up, Alvina walked up to me and helped me pack up my stuff. I tried to say thank you but she left before I could say a word. I’ve tried to ask others about her but they just don’t really know anything. I will say, their fashion is cute and comfortable.

Jun.20th

I think me and Alvina had a heart to heart? It’s the last week of school before everyone goes home for the summer and I was preparing to practice in the music/dance room when she came in. She was about to leave when I said she could stay and asked if she played anything? Alvina sat down at the piano and started playing. It was like heaven sighed and the angels swooned when she played. I started to dance along to the music, not caring about the routine I was going to do. We did that for about 20 minutes before we stopped. Alvina might not seem like it, but she’s a very nice and sweet girl. Hopefully we can have more heart to hearts.

#Alvina is so cool EKFJDKDJSKSK #Alvina Arcane-Zheng #ask game

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caw4brandon · 2 years

Photo

- For Alvina: RWBY Afterlife -

After the Fall of Beacon, Remnant was never the same. The Grimm Queen; Salem consumed the world and turned it into a sunless, baron wasteland. Team RWBY is gone and Ozpin is lost. Some survivors now live separately within the vaults of the destined relics with no way of communication and no way home. (At least, that’s how they think they lived)

However, among the survivors is a little girl who saw the Fall. @oneirataxia-girl; Alvina Arcane-Zheng lost her heroes that day but she lived to remember them and how things used to be. Alvina vowed to set things right with the world and destroy the Grimm Queen. Alvina’s venture eventually leads her to Sadie mac Lir. A Ruby Rose wannabe who also shares the same goal with her cartoonish scythe.

THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO DO! I’m picturing this RWBY- esque world with a Matrix scenario. Having our main character, Alvina question what is real and what isn’t because...I’m messed up like that! hahaha. I listened to [Red like Roses (RED)] and [Red like Roses (Part 2)] while doing this. The song is Hella Hype Yo!

Ruby-Sadie uses Old Father Long-Legs

Alvina-Oscar uses Mintberry

The show is so bonkers at this point, mind as well make it even messier with this alternative version. This explains why both Sadie and Alvina dress up as these existing characters but just remember, [Feed your Head~]

Thanks for reading

- Caw4B -

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themilkshanghai · 2 years

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Spring Break Challenge 2022

[ April 5th : Breakfast ]

Spring Break 2022 by @kc-and-co

Mcs : Cereza | Rosie | Joslyn | Alvina

( @rosachaotic , @magicapandora , @lisindrw , @oneirataxia-girl )

( Kitchen Room )

" Breakfast is ready~ And I made cupcakes too, Would anyone like some? "

" Looks so appetizing~ "

" Yay! ME ME ME~ "

「 Breakfast makes good mood, fills energy and heals all wounds. These breakfast are scrumptious. Sandwich, fried egg, toasted bread...cupcakes…can’t stop eating!! 」

" It’s full now, thank you for breakfast~ (^_^) "

#hogwarts: spring break 2022 #hphm #hphm mc #hphm jacobs sibling #art #drawing #color #illustration #cereza gomez #rosie mayfield #joslyn wei #alvina arcane zheng #breakfast #food #hogwarts mystery fanart #hogwarts mystery oc

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usernoneexistent · 2 years

Text

A/N: Okay, sorry it took me so long to publish. I actually had it all written out ages ago but it was the drawings that took me so long. Also @oneirataxia-girl OC Alvina is back for a bit.

Warning: Heavy use of Scottish accent (ask if a translation is needed XD), bullying, House discrimination.

"The feast is over now. All first years Ravenclaws, follow me to proceed to the Ravenclaw common room," An older boy, with bags hanging from his eyes, waved to gather their attention. A sea of blues and blacks get up, and follow him, "My name is Chester Davis and I am one your prefects. If you have any problems please come to me."

He talked about Hogwarts as they walked past statues and paintings, only outlining a brief history. Naturally, Rowan whispered to Juniper in greater detail the past of Hogwarts. They shushed a couple of times but Juniper found it fascinating to learn about the artists and founders. They continued onwards to the many stairs, up to the fifth floor and west of Hogwarts to reach the Ravenclaw tower. Once at the entrance, stood a bronze door. It was without any knobs or handles nor even a keyhole to be sighted. Only a bronze eagle knocker was displayed on the door.

"Um, excuse me Chester?" One of the first years piped up.

"Yes, Karasu."

"How do we get into the common rooms?" She asked what everyone thought but dared not to say out loud.

"Excellent question, I was about to get there," The corner of his lips turned ever so slightly, "Watch and learn, as this is how you will get in and out of the common room."

He faces the bronze eagle as it opens its beak to speak, "The more of me you have, the longer your life. The more of me you have, the less you have left."

Chester looks around, "Does anyone know what the answer is?"

He was testing them, which makes sense since, after all, Chester and the other prefects cannot look after them forever. Better if they learned now rather than later. Rowan's hand shot straight up, begging to be picked. Chester waited a few more seconds in case anyone else had the answer but alas he caved into and picked Rowan.

"Birthdays!" She answered.

"Correct!" The eagle acknowledged and opened the door for them. The common room was circular, scattered about are cosy, blue armchairs and bookshelves at the back. Mahogany desks ready to be used and studied upon are there. The most impressive, Juniper noted, was the ceiling. It twinkled with stars into an endless void of the night sky. She noticed further back to the bookshelves a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder.

"Ugh, another Moss?" Juniper heard one whisper, breaking her out of her dream bubble.

"What's she doing here?" Another whispered. A third chimed in, "Hufflepuff should've taken her in. They always take in the charity cases."

Juniper held her head up high. She won't allow them to see her break. No, she wasn't here for them. The sorting hat placed her here to help her find Jacob. A fourth-year girl with the prefect badge shining in their face showed up.

"Hi, I'm Heather Finch and I'm your other prefect," She introduced herself, "All first year girls, follow me to your dorm rooms."

The five girls gathered around Heather while the first-year boys were taken downstairs first by Chester to their dorm rooms. She guided them up and into a blue room, with five posters beds around the room. Their trunks and suitcases were placed in the middle of the room. Each could claim a bed, that will be theirs for the next seven years. Rowan and Juniper quickly bagged ones right next to each other. Alvina took one on the other side of Rowan while Badeea and the other girl, Tulip, claimed the last two. Alvina and Rowan were busy sorting out their clothes while the other three chucked through to find their pyjamas, leaving a mess in the midst.

"I guess we never properly introduce ourselves," Said Badeea as she unwrapped her headscarf. It's safe for her to do so in the presence of female company. She recalled her grandmother, Jadda, as she preferred to be called, in Algeria doing the same and even taught her how to wrap it properly, "I'm Badeea Ali."

"I'll go next," Said the red-haired girl. Her red was different from the boy earlier while his hair was fiery, hers was bright and alert, "My name is Tulip Karasu."

"Hi Badeea! Hi Tulip! It's nice to meet yous, I'm Juniper Moss," She introduced herself, keeping it cool and normal. Don’t want to seem over eager.

"Yeah, we know who you are, Juniper Moss," Tulip stated. Badeea shook her head, "I don't. Am I suppose to know who you are, Juniper?"

"Probably, it's best if you don't," Juniper joked. Rowan joined and distracted them, "I'm Rowan. It's lovely to get to know you all."

The four chatted a bit, getting to know each other. Tulip looked over to the fifth girl who had been quiet this entire time, "What about you, what's your name?"

The girl looked a little stiff, "My name is Alvina Arcane-Zheng."

"Can't believe we have two from famous families in Ravenclaw."

"I believe the term used for ma family is infamous," Juniper laughed awkwardly. The rest chuckled nervously along. After Rowan realised it was way past midnight and argued that its best to go to bed now. They have to get up bright and early for their first class tomorrow. Once the girls settled down and the silence set in, Juniper tried to be quiet with her tossing and turning. She struggled to get her eyes shut. The quietness had allowed thoughts and feelings to be freed, which she has been suppressing this entire time, her mother. The anxiety being away from, not knowing if she is alright without her. Should Juniper write a letter to Tilly, her neighbour? She regretted not bringing that ugly stuffed toy rabbit. The washout rabbit brought her great comfort when she was alone with her thoughts.

After what seemed like an eternity has passed, Juniper finally could rest but before she knew it, her sleep was disturbed by a horrible sound. The ring from the alarm from Rowan's bedside table woke up all the girls except for Tulip. Juniper envied her ability to sleep so seamlessly through the rings. The girls get ready, Alvina and Badeea left while Juniper attempted to wake up the unconscious girl to no avail. They ended up leaving her, Juniper can feel her caffeine withdrawal kicking in.

"I can't believe they let you in after your brother got expelled and ruined Ravenclaw's reputation!" A voice from behind halted the girls. Juniper knew last night was too good to be true. A third-year boy stared down at them.

Before Juniper could open her mouth, Rowan stepped in front of her, like a shield. "Juniper will be an outstanding Ravenclaw." She said it like it was a fact. "I'm assuming you aren't since you're spending your time bullying first-years."

"Whatever!" He huffed, "I'll be keeping an eye on both of you."

The third-years took his leave. Both girls were bewildered by the whole confrontation.

"Sorry. I know you asked me to follow your lead back in Diagon Alley, but I can't let anyone talk to my friend like that." Hearing the word 'my friend' filled up Juniper with mushy feelings.

"Thanks, Rowan." She assured Rowan. "Something tells me that won't be the last time someone brings up ma brother."

Juniper changed the subject as they walked out and climbed down the stairs to the great hall. "Have you had a chance tae look at yer timetable?"

"Yes! Can you believe it? Herbology with Professor Sprout, Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall..." She listed. "What are you most looking forwards to, Juniper?"

Juniper thought about it. She realised that she actually never thought about it. Her mind has always focused on finding Jacob so there was little room for other things to occupy.

"I just want tae learn spells and potions as fast as possible, so I can use them to find ma brother, and make sure he's okay." The blue-haired answered.

"We'll learn some really useful and powerful spells in Charms Class." Rowan started, "Luckily, our first class is Charms!"

Once the breakfast and a coffee had been devoured, the two girls made their way to the east towers of the castle. Inside the classroom, the sits were situated on either side as long rows. At the back, a desk with books stacked on top and in front arranged like a staircase, stood Professor Flitwick, their head of the house.

"Here we go, Juniper. Our first step to becoming great witches." She whispered.

As they were picking their seats, she passed by Professor Flitwick. "Pleased to meet you, Professor Flitwick. I'm really looking forward to Charms."

"You're Miss Moss!" He recognised. "If you're anything like your brother, you will do just fine. He was one of my most skilled students."

It pleased Juniper to hear something positive was said about Jacob however, she could sense a big ‘but’ come. "That being said, he was also one of my most rebellious students. Out of curiousity, are you going to follow the rules?"

Juniper realised that the Professor was sniffing out if she will just be as rebellious as Jacob. She knew it would too good to be true.

"I'll do ma best to follow the rules, but I can't make any guarantees." She said honestly, perhaps a little too honest.

"Very well, Miss Moss. Please have a seat. Class is about to begin."

Juniper hurried over next to Rowan. The classroom seem to be split she noticed. Ravenclaws were on the right side while Gryffindors were on the left side. A flash of fiery red was spotted in the corner of her eyes. Charles Weasley, the boy from yesterday. Juniper knew it was rude to stare from her own experience but she can't help but be drawn to the colour. Rowan nudged her and Juniper swiftly averted her eyes to the teacher.

"Welcome to your very first Charms Class at Hogwarts. I will be your instructor, Professor Flitwick." He welcomed the class. "Please pay close attention to the instruction, and take great care practising the spells you learn. Today we will be learning a very important spell known as the Wand-Lighting Charm. This charm is useful in dark places, whether you are searching a shadowy room for hidden dangers or trying to find a scroll that rolled under the sofa. Lumos!"

Professor Flitwick started explaining the lore behind Lumos and demonstrated the stance. Juniper learned that the wand-lighting charm was first displayed by Levine Monkstanley in 1772. Of course, Rowan already knew that and even added more about Levina.

"I think I'm ready to try the wand-lighting charm." Rowan said determinedly.

"Lumos!"

A blue light flickered on, unlike some others, the light stayed.

"Wow! Look at your Lumos! This is smashing!" Juniper almost squealed for joy for her friend.

"Let's see yours, Juniper."

Juniper took her hornbeam wand, mimicking the motions Professor Flitwick showed earlier. The pressure was on her now to conjure up the first spell.

"Lumos!" She said. A bright light beamed from the tip of her wand. Like a star in the dusty classroom. Audible gasps were echoed in the room. A wow came out from Rowan.

"Well done, Miss Moss. That's the best execution of the wand-lighting charm I've seen from a first-year in quite some time." He praised the first-year. Juniper was surprised by the brightness herself or that even worked in the first place. "Ten points to Ravenclaw."

"Nice work, Juniper! I read everything I could find on the wand-lighting charm, and yours was still better. You're a natural." Juniper felt a little overwhelmed by the praise. "You already got us ten house points! You said you want to learn from the other Ravenclaws, but I think we could all learn something from you."

Her cheeks turned a bright pink shade, all these compliments made her unsure how to properly react. "Ta, I really don't know what tae say. Potions is next. I have a feeling facing Snape won't be so easy..."

The boom of the bell was sounded throughout Hogwarts, indicating the end of the period. Potions class is located deep down in the dungeons. Juniper quickly excused herself to the girl's loo and told Rowan to just go ahead. She does the awkward half run, half walk to the dungeons. The lights dimmed more and were only illuminated by the fire. As she drew closer, Juniper saw the familiar figure of Rowan alongside another whom she doesn't recognise.

"Admit it!" The other figure, a Slytherin girl on closer inspection demanded.

"I can't." Rowan was adamant in her statement.

"Say I'm the most powerful witch at Hogwarts!" Did she really say that? Juniper wasn't sure if this girl was being serious or not. Regardless, she wanted to laugh at it.

"It's logically impossible! I've made numerous lists of powerful witches at Hogwarts based on multiple factors." That sounded very like Rowan. It just made her laugh out loud even more but felt inappropriate to laugh right now. "You're less powerful than Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Madam Hooch, Madam Pomfrey, every single seventh-year. You're just a first-year like me." Rowan argued.

The Slytherin girl scoffed, "I'm nothing like you."

"Get away from her." Juniper stood between the two girls.

"Who do you think you are?" She demanded. ‘Who do you think you are’, Juniper wanted to retort back.

"Juniper is the one who should be claiming to be the best witch. Professor Flitwick said she cast the best wand-lighting charm of any first-year." Rowan stepped in.

"Juniper?" The name rolled off her tongue with disgust. "Now I know exactly who you are.You're Juniper moss. Your brother lost his mind, disgraced his house, got expelled from, and was never heard from again." The Slytherin listed. Hearing that Jacob had lost his mind, that he's crazy made Juniper's blood boil. The rest she could get over, no problem.

"Who are you?" She acted confused. Juniper didn't want to know anymore from this vile girl.

"Merula Snyde. First-year Slytherin. The best witch at Hogwarts." The Ravenclaw rolled her eyes at 'best witch'. Rowan already established why she wasn't, but Merula seem so entranced by this belief. "I overheard the professors whispering about you at the Feast. I suppose you think you're better than me. I should put you out of your misery before you ruin Hogwarts like your brother tried to."

Ah, Juniper was right about Merula. Delusional.

"I don't want any trouble." She just wants to get to potions class with Rowan. They are late enough as it is.

"You don't have a choice." Why did Juniper have the feeling that there will be more inconveniences caused by this girl? Juniper guessed that the only language Merula speaks is intimidation.

"You're just afraid I'm mer powerful than you." Juniper taunted.

Bingo. "Let's find out who's more powerful right now." She fell for it. Merula was ready to grab her wand and fight her. Pathetic, Juniper thought. She could use her fists just as easily.

"Moss." A sour voice belonging to a sour man interrupted them. "I knew you would be trouble."

"Professor Snape!" Merula quickly moved her hand away from her robes.

Despite his sourness, Juniper sincerely hoped that Professor Snape would be fair. "Merula was bullying ma friend, Professor."

"Get to potion class. Be thankful you aren't headed to detention." He stated coldly and leaves them. Merula gave the two Ravenclaw girls a mean look and follow behind the professor.

"Thanks for standing up for me, Juniper. I've never been very strong." Juniper wanted to hug her friend tight but feared Snape's watchful eye. But something about what Merula said earlier bugged her.

"Did you hear what Merula said? Why would the professors be talking 'bout me?" Juniper wondered.

"I don't know, but we better get to potions. We're in enough trouble as it is." Agreed with Rowan, they run inside the classroom. Due to their tardiness which was by no means their fault, the tables were all filled up except for the seats next to Merula. Juniper groaned inwardly.

Snape glared at them before starting, "This is your first potions class, and based on the bewildered look in your eyes, this could very well be your last. Unlike your other classes, this is not a place for foolish wand-waving, and intolerable screeching of mispronounced incantation." He certainly has a flair for the dramatics. Maybe his drama career didn't work out well hence why he's scaring first-years Juniper liked to imagine. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. Ensure the senses. Bewitch the mind. Keep your mouths shut. Today you will produce a simple cure for boils potion. Know that I expect perfection. And know that there will be severe consequences for failing to meet my expectations. Let us begin."

Students gathered around Snape one table at a time to observe his example that they are expected to replicate perfectly.

"You think you're so special, but you're already guaranteed to fail, Moss." Not this again. Juniper just wanted potions to be over and done with so she could head to her next class.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Juniper asked.

"You'll see..." The Slytherin smirked. She didn't like the sound of that one bit.

"Ignore her, Juniper. After getting reprimanded by Snape, we need to brew this potion perfectly." Rowan emphasised.

They gathered at the crowd, watching how Snape rolled up his sleeves as he was getting six snake fangs to crush into fine powders. Juniper mentally noted all the ingredients and their order. The way he was doing it seemed no different to cooking and a bit of mental maths. Once the demonstration was over the two Ravenclaws went back to their seats. Merula greeted them with a gleeful grin. She got back to the table rather quickly.

Juniper got six snake fangs, crushed them with the mortar and pestle. As she went through the steps, Juniper always double-checked with Rowan for each step. Both paranoid by Snape. Once the potion was done, a pink smoke was to be seen. It was exactly right.

"It worked! I brewed ma first potion!" She looked over at Rowan's cauldron. Her's was the same shade of pink too.

"Mines worked too!" Rowan said excitedly. The smoke colour changed and bubbles were brewing. Something in her gut, something told it was wrong. "Wait...What's happening?"

Rowan looked over at her cauldron with concern. "Did you add bulbadox powder? From my studies, this looks like the beginnings of the explosive reaction caused by adding bulbadox powder..."

"Explosive?!" Juniper exclaimed. The cauldron blew to big bits, almost hitting her and Rowan. The green liquid oozed on the table.

Merula laughed, "Congratulations. You have cured the table of boils."

It was her, Juniper had no doubt in her mind Merula sabotaged her. Snape marched over, Juniper knew her time at Hogwarts was over before it had even begun.

"You should have never been allowed inside of my classroom, Moss. You are somehow even worse than your brother." Snape raised his voice. "Ten points from Ravenclaw! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Juniper took this chance to defend herself, "I ken Merula Snyde did something to ma cauldron."

"Take responsibility for your incompetence, Moss." Professor Snape was not interested in what she had to say.

"I would, but Merula threatened me and ma friend, and said she would do something to make sure I failed in potions. She's threatened by me cause she thinks I might be a mere powerful witch." Juniper desperately explained.

Snape turned to Merula, "Is this true, Miss Snyde?"

"Absolutely not, Professor. Moss is clearly just as mad as her brother. And just as driven to ruin everything in Hogwarts." The audacity. Lying to a teacher straight to his face. Juniper wanted to smack her right there and then.

"Your family has represented Slytherin well, Miss Snyde. I will be watching you closely to ensure you do the same." Of course, favouritism. Juniper wanted to give Slytherin a chance, she did. But the head of house choosed the students of their house. But her faith in Slytherin was waning.

"You made the right choice by telling him about Merula. I'm sure you would have lost more house points if you didn't." Rowan was visibly upset by the situation too.

"It's only going to get worse, Moss." Merula taunted. "You should have known that coating your cauldron with bulbadox powder would make your potion explode. I certainly did. Now there's no doubt that I'm the most important first-year, and you're nothing but a disgrace just like your brother."

Juniper was right, Merula Snyde was behind this whole fiasco. It seems the Slytherin girl was adamant about getting rid of Juniper. The bell tolled again, time for a short break.

"Dismissed. I've had enough of all you for one day." The students scurried out. Juniper feared the wrath of the fellow Ravenclaws for her gaining and losing ten hours points at the same time. It seems life is going to be a lot more difficult than Juniper thought.

Previous chapter: Chapter 2

Next chapter: Chapter 4

#juniper’s story #writing #higwarts mystery #hphm oc #juniper moss #rowan khanna #chester davis #tulip karasu #badeea ali #alvina arcane-zheng #professor snape #merula snyde #tulip and badeea as first years #tulip has short hair for first year #i have nothing against slytherin #they will get their redemption

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