March 22nd, 1888 — Charms Class/Corridor between classes

They had been doing it all class. To an extent, Blythe Fairchild could not blame them, bringing a bit of practicality into an otherwise theory-logged hour. The professor had spent the entirety of the class thus far turned to face the blackboard, upon which they meticulously jotted down notes for the class to copy, the chalk squealing uncomfortably every now and again under the pressure.

Could not blame them, but was irritated nonetheless, for what they had taken to doing was passing notes. The professor’s seating arrangement saw Blythe placed squarely between them as they quietly—though not silently, for the Hufflepuff doubted they would be capable of that even when they were at the level for it—levitated it over her desktop to one another, the note every now and again bumping up against the fifth year’s otherwise busy quill.

Something in her snapped, and on what felt like its hundredth pass, Blythe plucked it from the air and clutched it in her spare hand for the rest of the class in spite of the looks shot at her by the note’s owners.

It was not until she reached the corridor that curiosity got the better of her and the witch peeked at—well, read—its contents, eyes widening even as she heard a throat clearing behind her.

Working on the scenario challenge #1: find a note with a secret in it.
Open to either (or both) party involved in this particular altercation!

---

  

---

Are You a Believer? † Join the Faithful!

— graphics by rune ❤ —

In seemed to Trixie that since the school had reversed its policy on halfbreeds there had been a general attitude amongst many of her peers that it was somehow acceptable to be proud of one’s heritage and status. Wherever she went she heard people muttering about so-and-so’s great-granny being a famous veela or else Mr What’s-His-Name being part of a family that several generations before had spawned from a vampire and somehow, and here she blamed everybody from the teachers to the Minister of Magic himself, they didn’t seem to be ashamed of these connections.

To add insult to injury uppity halfbloods were quite convinced they were the equals of any purebloods and she had even heard some mudbloods becoming bold. Suffice to say the new ways at Hogwarts had left Trixie with precious few friends and sudden need to develop a thick skin as the majority of her classmates turned on her like treacherous cockroaches. Ignoring two of them as they passed noted and giggled had become an almost daily endurance for her to rise above but today the pattern was slightly changed by the note being caught mid-air.

It was that odd girl. Trixie knew her in passing but not especially well and yet she couldn’t resist the urge to follow her out of charms as quickly as she was able, morbidly curious as to what the stupid little bitches were actually saying about her.

She cleared her throat and the girl turned to her with wide-eyes – Trixie snorted out a mirthless laugh.

“Too much for your delicate eyes is it?”

  

The speaker was none other than the very subject of the note, and Blythe turned to stare wide-eyed at the seemingly nonplussed Beatrix Borgin. If what Blythe had just read was true—and how anyone would write such a vile lie, the Hufflepuff could not fathom—then this Miss Borgin was the last person she ought to be in company with for even a moment, but under the circumstances she could not help her heart from going out to the other girl a little bit.

“N-No,” she stammered before clearing her throat. “No. Only it was rather more shocking a note than I had expected to encounter during a charms lesson.”

Briefly, the fifth year had considered simply lying, saying it was nothing, but Miss Borgin had been dreadfully used (for all that she was rather brusque for Blythe’s liking) and deserved, if nothing else, Blythe’s sympathy.

---

  

---

Are You a Believer? † Join the Faithful!

— graphics by rune ❤ —

It was a slight change of pace for Trixie to be confronted with somebody who didn’t immediately start giggling, or simple avoiding her, the moment she got too close so she allowed for the possibility that the odd girl was not entirely terrible. And she was a pureblood too: Trixie might not care to know many of her peers but she did know which ones were worth knowing at least and this was one of them.

Still, Huffepuffs always irritated her within moments so it remained to be seen how this would go.

“I can guess the sort of rubbish they’re saying about me so you might as well know it’s not worth the parchment it’s written on,” she shot back with as much haughtiness as she could manage, eyes flicking to the parchment with a small hint of desperation. She couldn’t just ask for it, she would look far too eager. “I expect, whatever it is, they’re too cowardly to say such things to my face?”

  

“Miss Borgin, they’ve said you took a potion to rid yourself of Rasmus Mohr’s child!” Blythe informed the girl in hushed tones. She had not altogether wished to say it aloud, but whatever the Ravenclaw might have guessed at, Blythe doubted it would even come close to something so dire.

In truth, the Hufflepuff was not certain whether she believed the statement or not. She preferred to think none of her schoolmates were so wanton, nor that they would be so sinful as to kill the innocent fruits of their indiscretions, but Mr. Mohr was the child of a veela. Much though she pitied his condition, Blythe knew that he brought with him a seductive wickedness. Had another boy been named she would not have given the paper any credence, as Miss Borgin said, but a veela’s offspring? That had some merit.

---

The following 3 users Like Blythe Fairchild's post:3 users Like Blythe Fairchild's post
   Beatrix Burke, Bella Scrimgeour, Zelda Darrow

---

Are You a Believer? † Join the Faithful!

— graphics by rune ❤ —

For a long moment Trixie was sure she must have misheard. Not only had she not expected Miss Fairchild to actually say aloud what was on the paper – really, Trixie had anticipated it being a great deal cruder – but she had not thought it would be something like that! The bloody nerve!

She glanced over her shoulder sharply, convinced she had heard giggling and was put out to see no sign of the girls who had written this slander. It would have been worth the detention to knock them down a few pegs!

“I doubt that preening peacock would know how to inflict a child on anybody in the first place,” she spat, taking a step towards Miss Fairchild to snatch the parchment from her hands and read it for herself. She kept her face extremely still, letting the words wash over her and trying to push away the slight niggle that felt like shame that anybody could believe this of her. “It’s not true,” she muttered with spiky need, unable to tear her eyes away from the paper. “I would never. Not with him…not with anyone.”

The following 1 user Likes Beatrix Burke's post:1 user Likes Beatrix Burke's post
   Blythe Fairchild

“You might not have had much say,” she offered gingerly, raising a hand as if to pat the other girl comfortingly on the shoulder before thinking better of it and dropping that same hand rather awkwardly. “I’m sorry to have upset you, Miss Borgin,” Blythe continued, “but I thought you ought to hear what was being said. Thought you deserved to hear.”

---

  

---

Are You a Believer? † Join the Faithful!

— graphics by rune ❤ —

The consolation offered fell on deaf ears – Trixie had never seen the appeal of Rasmus Mohr, although she had once found herself dancing with his sister for no reason she had ever been able to put her finger on – and even if she had fallen pretty to his supposed charms she was no fool and knew the blame would still be squarely placed at her feet.

“Why are you sorry?” She asked off-hand, scrunching up the paper into a tight ball she had every intention of burning once she was in the tower. “It’s hardly your fault that lot are a little bunch of-” She stopped herself just in time, glancing up with a rueful smirk. “Well, I think we both know what they are.”

  

Blythe was embarrassingly happy that Miss Borgin had not finished that particular sentence. The Hufflepuff was being very charitable and understanding, given the circumstances, but even she had her limits and the far reaches of propriety were as far as she could comfortably go.

"I am sorry that life is difficult for you in any way," the fifth year explained. She still was not entirely convinced that the contents of the note weren't true, but knew firsthand how cruel her sex could be if given any quarter. "Even if you might have been rude to those girls—which I am certain was not the case!—it did not justify such a malicious response."

---

The following 1 user Likes Blythe Fairchild's post:1 user Likes Blythe Fairchild's post
   Beatrix Burke

---

Are You a Believer? † Join the Faithful!

— graphics by rune ❤ —

Trixie’s lip twitched at Miss Fairchild’s assessment of her relationship with the other girls and wondered whether it would be worth pointing out that she had in fact been rude to those girls in the past, and likely would be again, just to see the look on her face. Probably not. She rather liked having somebody who at least didn’t think she deserved the slander of being associated with Rasmus Mohr.

“Isn’t life difficult for everybody one way or another?” She quipped, with the sage philosophy of a teenager who had learnt affected melancholy at the feet of her expert mother. “My mother says it’s all a test. She’s never said of what though.”

  

“A test of faith,” the brunette replied automatically before mentally wincing. Miss Borgin had not asked for a sermon; it was not Blythe’s place to evangelize to the girl who was probably quite shaken, for all that the Ravenclaw did not give any such indication.

---

  

---

Are You a Believer? † Join the Faithful!

— graphics by rune ❤ —

Frowning Trixie glanced at the other girl, sensing that whatever she had been about to say had come to an abrupt halt.

“Faith in what? God?” She asked, not disdainfully, but in the way one might ask about the concept of philosophy or the fate of Edwin Drood; things she knew others obsessed over but she did not understand the appeal of at all.

  

"Well, yes," she answered simply, a bit surprised. She had expected derision—or at least disbelief—from the Ravenclaw at her answer. What Blythe received instead was not what she might have characterized as clear openness, but it was certainly a more positive response than anticipated.

"Or of character and adherence to His will," the Hufflepuff added after a moment, "but generally, the former is more applicable."

---

  

---

Are You a Believer? † Join the Faithful!

— graphics by rune ❤ —

Not being especially known for her adherence to anyone's will Trixie didn't think she was ever likely to buy what the other girl was selling but it was always worth knowing where people's hearts lay. Miss Fairchild was mostly harmless, if a bit peculiar, and she didn’t look at her as though she had come off the bottom of her shoe. And she hadn’t believed the stupid rumour that was probably going to be on the lips of every little bitch in the school.

“Does he do that a lot?” She asked, idly curious what the gobbledegook was about. “Test us, I mean.”

  

“Some more than others,” she answered rather pensively. Sometimes, Blythe thought that life with Aunt Temperance was meant to be a test of her piousness and resilience, but never had the opportunity to confess as much aloud. Somehow, the Hufflepuff doubted this would be quite the right moment to do so. “Of course, the Lord never places a wall before us too high for us to climb.”

---

  

---

Are You a Believer? † Join the Faithful!

— graphics by rune ❤ —

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Trixie replied with a roll of her eyes. “Why bother testing you at all if he knows you can do it in the first place?”

If this Lord intended to test her with spiteful classmates the he was severely underestimating her capability for putting up with indignities at the hands of others. Between the halfbreeds at the school and the threat of Borgin looming over her at home she almost wished she was pregnant with Mohr’s child: at least that way she would be free of it all, but she would never do that. Like her mother she was built to endure so how did this Lord go about testing people like them?