28th May, 1893 — The Great Hall, Hogwarts Coming Out Ball
It was slowly but surely sinking in – he was going to miss Hogwarts.
He had thought about staying; making a break for it once and for all, before he was confined to the Urquarts’ manor again forevermore. But while Aubrey could picture himself living in some cottage-esque tree root at the edge of the forest, or some (other, nicer) student’s lost boot perfectly happily, Aubrey could also picture Urquart summoning him back from his hiding places by unrestrained force and him ending up splatted against the castle walls in the process. Sure, his life wasn’t much, but still, that wasn’t how he wanted to go out. And if he was going to be torn away from his newfound home at Hogwarts after tonight, then so be it. Aubrey intended to fuck it all, and go out with one last grand feast. He might have been a footman once, but tonight, tonight he was one of the guests.
Which was how Aubrey had ended up scurrying along a refreshment table in the middle of the Coming Out Ball, snorting his way through a tray of canapés and lapping up a puddle of spilled champagne next to the array of glasses. Well – for a moment or two, at least, before he was seen.
A mutter, a quiet squeal, movements in his peripheral vision as a couple of people pulled out their wands. Aubrey rear-ended some of the drinks in an attempt to dodge a vanishing charm, but the jets of light were coming at him too fast. The spells hit him, and for one suspended second Aubrey was convinced he was going to die.
Anyone who had studied Transfiguration at all in their lives – and Aubrey had learned plenty, curled up in textbooks or sitting in Professor Foxwood’s office – ought to know how complex the science of this magic was. Fraught, delicate; where proper alteration of a subject was linked to deepest accuracy in the spell-casting. Transfiguration had parameters and due process. But Aubrey Davis was a transfiguration anomaly. No longer a man, but not quite a true hedgehog either – the magic of his fate undefinable beyond its origins from a demonic toddler’s darkest, most primal urges. Accidents happened.
Happened, and happened again. For Aubrey did not vanish into non-existence as this thoughtless spell had so intended. If anything, he seemed to be bursting beyond the bounds of his body: he was thrown up by the force of it and came crashing back down into the refreshment table in a tangle of flailing limbs, the hedgehog vanished – and a hairy, scrawny ginger man in a footman’s grubby old clothes sprawled out in his place.
Aubrey, too overwhelmed to comprehend any of this, let out what he supposed would be a familiar hedgehog scream. Instead it sounded low and hoarse and guttural, and not like a hedgehog at all.
He had thought about staying; making a break for it once and for all, before he was confined to the Urquarts’ manor again forevermore. But while Aubrey could picture himself living in some cottage-esque tree root at the edge of the forest, or some (other, nicer) student’s lost boot perfectly happily, Aubrey could also picture Urquart summoning him back from his hiding places by unrestrained force and him ending up splatted against the castle walls in the process. Sure, his life wasn’t much, but still, that wasn’t how he wanted to go out. And if he was going to be torn away from his newfound home at Hogwarts after tonight, then so be it. Aubrey intended to fuck it all, and go out with one last grand feast. He might have been a footman once, but tonight, tonight he was one of the guests.
Which was how Aubrey had ended up scurrying along a refreshment table in the middle of the Coming Out Ball, snorting his way through a tray of canapés and lapping up a puddle of spilled champagne next to the array of glasses. Well – for a moment or two, at least, before he was seen.
A mutter, a quiet squeal, movements in his peripheral vision as a couple of people pulled out their wands. Aubrey rear-ended some of the drinks in an attempt to dodge a vanishing charm, but the jets of light were coming at him too fast. The spells hit him, and for one suspended second Aubrey was convinced he was going to die.
Anyone who had studied Transfiguration at all in their lives – and Aubrey had learned plenty, curled up in textbooks or sitting in Professor Foxwood’s office – ought to know how complex the science of this magic was. Fraught, delicate; where proper alteration of a subject was linked to deepest accuracy in the spell-casting. Transfiguration had parameters and due process. But Aubrey Davis was a transfiguration anomaly. No longer a man, but not quite a true hedgehog either – the magic of his fate undefinable beyond its origins from a demonic toddler’s darkest, most primal urges. Accidents happened.
Happened, and happened again. For Aubrey did not vanish into non-existence as this thoughtless spell had so intended. If anything, he seemed to be bursting beyond the bounds of his body: he was thrown up by the force of it and came crashing back down into the refreshment table in a tangle of flailing limbs, the hedgehog vanished – and a hairy, scrawny ginger man in a footman’s grubby old clothes sprawled out in his place.
Aubrey, too overwhelmed to comprehend any of this, let out what he supposed would be a familiar hedgehog scream. Instead it sounded low and hoarse and guttural, and not like a hedgehog at all.
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Aldous Crouch, Alice Dawson, Basil Foxwood, Chandrima Meredeth, Daffodil Grimstone, Diana Selwyn, Fortitude Greengrass, Madeleine Backus, Rashmika Meredeth
Aldous Crouch, Alice Dawson, Basil Foxwood, Chandrima Meredeth, Daffodil Grimstone, Diana Selwyn, Fortitude Greengrass, Madeleine Backus, Rashmika Meredeth
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Formerly known as Davis, Elijah Urquart's pet hedgehog.