February 29th, 1888; Night — Hogwarts Astronomy Tower

If ever there were a day when the Ravenclaw’s luck would run out, it would be a day that came about only once every four years.

Ever since her first lesson on the subject, Holliday Fudge had been wary of her astronomy classes, not because she bore any ill-will towards the stars and moon, but because at least once a week, they took place not within the safety of the classroom but on a large, almost entirely open space atop the school’s highest tower. That she had not yet plummeted to her death was, the fourth year thought, a miracle, and it was not a trend she was keen to break.

To that end, she had physically tethered herself to a post in the centre of the room, having had one of the house elves fetch her almost a comical amount of rope. While she could still not bring herself closer to the edge without an overwhelming—and often overpowering—urge to vomit, the gusts of wind that picked up every few minutes no longer filled her with an unbearable sense of dread and panic. Holliday wondered why she hadn’t thought of this solution three years ago.

A snicker from behind her answered that question, and the brunette turned her head round to glare at the culprit.

Open to 1-3 OWL-level Astronomy students.

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— graphics by mj ❤ —

Seneca would have laughed at the spectacle even if Holiday Fudge wasn't the protagonist of it. The two girls didn't like each other much after a shared experience with a detention. Ironically, it had involved a broken telescope in that same class.

The idea to tie yourself to a post was absurd. Couldn't Miss Fudge drink some calming draught before the class like a normal person? She had no right to give her that look - she was asking for it, making a fool of herself like that!

Seneca looked at her innocently. She allowed for some time to pass since that, before asking her in a polite, conversational tone: "Have you read the Odyssey, Miss Fudge?" She tried her darnest not to smile smugly. Miss Fudge probably wouldn't get the reference and then Seneca would have to explain it to her and it would a delight.

  

Astronomy class was one that Pru either skipped or slept through. MacFusty had chosen to have morning practices more often than not lately, and she was not about that. A sleep deprived Prudence Browne was a cranky one. After she'd skipped one too many classes and had received yet another detention from the professor — an experience that she did not want to repeat — she trudged out of bed (wearing her sleepwear beneath her house robes) and went to class atop the astronomy tower.

Pru had conjured up a thick quilt and settled herself in a comfy heap with the blanket wrapped cocoon-like around her body. Others had had other ideas when it came to their personal comfort. Holliday Fudge had literally tethered herself to the room. Seneca Lestrange likely had a corset made of steel on, because that's what those kind of girls probably thought comfortable. Pru had suspicions that she slept standing up, fully dressed, so that she wouldn't wrinkle her skirts or crease her hair. There was also something to be said about vampires, of the soul-sucking variety.

Not one for books, Pru had no idea what was referenced. The tone had been enough to tell her that it was going to be an unkind one. "Leave her alone, Lestrange," She said with annoyance, just her head peaking out from the quilt, "She's not harming anyone."

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   Aldous Crouch

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set by Bee

Much though Holliday would insist she could fight her own battles, the Ravenclaw was privately relieved when Miss Browne came to her defence. She had not read the Odyssey, but doubted that anything Miss Lestrange had to say would be in the realm of cordial. The fourth year was not one to draw lines in the sand based upon house—just look at Miss Borgin, a fellow Ravenclaw!—but Seneca Lestrange most assuredly embodied everything bad about Slytherin.

“I have read many books, Miss Lestrange,” she replied primly, shooting a smile of thanks at the fifth year, “but fail to see what my literary education has to do with my astronomical one. Miss Browne, I don’t suppose I might borrow your copy of this week’s star chart? I appear to have forgotten my own.”

It was, she hoped, a definitive change in subject, but Holliday was not going to hold her breath.

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— graphics by mj ❤ —

A flashing urge to push Miss Browne off the tower overcame Seneca. Those pesky Gryffindors and their insufferable need to play hero all the time.

"Oh, don't get so defensive!" Seneca made in a bright, innocent tone. "I merely wanted to tell her that she reminded me of Odysseus when he was sailing in the sea of the sirens. You have misunderstood me." She offered that in a tone all grievance, as if they had truly hurt her feelings for misunderstanding her.

  

The probability of them misunderstanding Seneca Lestrange's intentions wasn't something Pru currently had the will to calculate, but she thought it unlikely. In her experience, Slytherins did not have innocent remarks about anything. Rather than responding with anything that could fuel the impending fire, she decided to take the high road (for once) and instead mumbled a non-committal, "Mmmph." Thankfully, Miss Fudge had the mind to cast the topic away from whatever an Odysseus was.

"Of course," She grinned and began to shuffle through her stack of papers that she'd haphazardly stuffed inside the quilt with her. As the seconds crept by, her grin wilted until it eventually formed into a frown, "I don't think I have it with me." She looked toward Miss Lestrange expectantly, but could not bring herself to ask after having just scolded her.

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   Marcus Lytton

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set by Bee

Poo. That meant…

Holliday’s gaze followed the direction of Miss Browne’s to land squarely on the Slytherin. She could not bring herself to ask a favour of the other girl—not after the tense near-altercation they had just had—but if neither eagle nor lion had one of their own, they were rather adrift. She feigned a small, tentative smile in Miss Lestrange’s direction.

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— graphics by mj ❤ —

How quick were those girls to turn to her when they were in need! Seneca wouldn't lose on the opportunity for them to feel indebted to her. It would further "prove" what a nice person she was, whereas they were prejudiced and blinded by House stereotypes.

"But of course you can use mine!" Seneca said in phoney sweetness and offered it to the Ravenclaw.

  

Pru tucked her quilt tighter around herself and watched as the sheet was offered. That had been anti-climactic. Not that Pru enjoyed drama of course, but the tension that had filled the air for a moment had been all for naught. She settled back to her notes, no longer paying attention to see if Miss Fudge received the offering peacefully.

  

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set by Bee

Holliday moved to take the proffered chart, her tether whispering against the floor of the tower as she did. The Ravenclaw did her best not to look too relieved, nor too apprehensive of the gesture.

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— graphics by mj ❤ —

Seneca was in the moral high ground and she loved it. A hint of a smug smile crept across her lips.


we could wrap it here?