December 18th, 1890 — Slytherin First Year Dorms
Anne had done it! She couldn’t wipe the gigglemug smirk from her face, and truly, she’d earned the Batty-Fang thrashing and Reelings she did when the owl arrived. She’d pooled all her earnings, a true Daisy-five-'o-clocker, Next thing to judgement day sort of miracle, but through some Pantry-Politics all her own, Anne the Revolveress secured the absolute most afternoonified Christmas gift for Ned.
She’d been on Needles AND pins about it as Christmas break loomed and Anne counted her coins. She’d even considered asking that Bit 'o Raspberry Irish girl Ned seemed to spend his time with for her assistance if her plans fell to bits, but Anne managed her most Slytherin feat to date. She’d been sneaking every spare hour she had over the summer into her first true career, as she saw it, and Mr. Grimstone had been the most accommodating overseer. If this was how working was, Anne couldn't fathom why adults had to whinge about it so much. Who wouldn’t love to work with brooms all day? Even sweeping and sorting fragments wasn’t too awful, not when it meant she could learn about the woods and bits. It wasn’t the same as flying – nothing was the same as flying – but Anne could see the beauty in the work, in the subtle carvings that Mr. Grimstone made and the technical scratchings he did on parchment.
Anne even tried her hand at broom drawing and considered sending him some of her favorites, but hers all looked the same. Perhaps, if she was diligent, she could learn the charms to make her sketches move soon. That way, they would at least have something special about them she could share with her unlikely mentor. Crushing his letter to her chest and nearly bouncing her poor Luna off the bed, Anne dashed to the owlery to send her reply.
She’d been on Needles AND pins about it as Christmas break loomed and Anne counted her coins. She’d even considered asking that Bit 'o Raspberry Irish girl Ned seemed to spend his time with for her assistance if her plans fell to bits, but Anne managed her most Slytherin feat to date. She’d been sneaking every spare hour she had over the summer into her first true career, as she saw it, and Mr. Grimstone had been the most accommodating overseer. If this was how working was, Anne couldn't fathom why adults had to whinge about it so much. Who wouldn’t love to work with brooms all day? Even sweeping and sorting fragments wasn’t too awful, not when it meant she could learn about the woods and bits. It wasn’t the same as flying – nothing was the same as flying – but Anne could see the beauty in the work, in the subtle carvings that Mr. Grimstone made and the technical scratchings he did on parchment.
Anne even tried her hand at broom drawing and considered sending him some of her favorites, but hers all looked the same. Perhaps, if she was diligent, she could learn the charms to make her sketches move soon. That way, they would at least have something special about them she could share with her unlikely mentor. Crushing his letter to her chest and nearly bouncing her poor Luna off the bed, Anne dashed to the owlery to send her reply.
[308 poorly used words we will NEVER speak of again]
![[Image: rOjzpw3.png]](https://i.imgur.com/rOjzpw3.png)