Wunjo

:joy:

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BLUE GLOWERED at her phone, wishing she could cast some spell to strengthen the damned signal. Since the sun had risen over the grounds, she had been scouring for a place that would allow her phone to work. She had gone to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and overheard a large crash, and giant-sized moan, to the lake, to Hagrid's Hut. 

She had even gone to the Quidditch Field and been half-tempted to bribe a member of Hufflepuff's team to take her up on their broom. Maybe a hundred feet in the air would finally snag her a second bar. But then she'd thought about how clumsy she had been prior to Hogwarts, tripping up the stairs and over her own two feet, and how slipping off a broom seemed like an obvious end to her life, and decided she would continue her search, feet firmly on the ground.

Nothing was working. No matter where she went, or how far past the greenhouses she'd gone, a good signal, a connection to the outside world, remained as elusive to her as the Curnblat had been to Xen.

"Is that it?" Aggravated, she shook her phone over her head. "Will a pair of underwear persuade you into working?" 

She brought it back down and began furiously spearing the touchscreen with her fingertips. The phone lit up, went dark, lit up again, asked her to confirm a shut down - which she ignored - and then opened to her email, mocking her with the bolded zero beside her inbox.

"Ugh!" The urge to throw it on the ground and smash it underneath her boots was tempting. But if she did that, no one at Hogwarts would know how to fix it (maybe Albus as he had an interest in Muggle 'artifacts') and she would lose her only means to contact her aunt. Instead, Blue threw herself on the ground, and pulled her knees into her chest. She wrapped her arms over them, phone dangling from one hand.

The air had chilled significantly, her breath misting in front of her face. Tomorrow would be the beginning of November and then winter was not far behind.

Almost two months of trying, of texting the same things to her aunt and dad and nothing. No response, no missed calls. Her phone might as well have been a brick, its only use to weigh down her pockets and remind her of just how unwanted she was.

Sighing, she dropped her head to her knees. The Hufflepuffs were still practicing for their match against Gryffindor, their house colors of yellow and black, standing out against the overcast sky. They swooped and looped and whizzed through the air, their team captain Otto Avery yelling notes and different plays over the rush of the air current. Hagrid's pumpkins had reached maturity and he was out, tilling the soil to get it ready to grow beans in the spring. Regular, muggle beans. For some reason, he'd been tickled by the idea he might grow a stalk tall enough to reach the clouds.

James had said it was because he was half giant, and when Blue had rolled her eyes, he asked if she had gotten his Jack and the Beanstalk reference. She'd plowed on ahead, merging with a crowd of Slytherins heading toward the dungeons, resolute in leaving James's question unanswered. 

A few students were huddled around Trevor's lake, sprawled out on blankets, practicing wand movements and perfecting their pronunciations. A long 'o' sound was all that stood between performing a Wingardium Leviosa spell and unleashing utter destruction.

The less studious Hogwarts students, which made up the majority, talked animatedly about the Hallowe'en party later that day. The band had already arrived, and a few had seen McGonagall giving Eveline Dante and two of the three Banshees a tour of the grounds.

With the wind picking up, Blue's teeth started to chatter and she got off the ground and headed back toward the school. She had nothing to do until 10, when Rose had demanded they all meet in Gryffindor's common room for who-knew-what, and that was—She glanced at her phone and groaned – ten hours away.

Near the school, she saw, to her surprise, a van parked in the drive. No broom, or Hippogriff, or magic carpet – if such things existed outside of the movies. A woman was bent over the back, lifting lemon and lavender colored boxes onto the ground.

Blue inched closer. "Mrs. Grizzle?"

Madeline Grizzle raised her head, and smiled. She wore a lavender apron, printed with the bakery's logo of a rolling pin and a pad of dough, only this one wasn't enchanted to put on a show. She had a beige trench over top, the collar popped. Her hair was done up and stuffed beneath a floral headscarf. 

Blue had had a similar headscarf-- the flowers tropical, birds of paradise and hibiscus. It'd been her mother's scarf, and she never went to bed without it. Having something of her mother's made her feel like her mother hadn't been taken far away, and instead lingered, close by, watching over her.

"Why look who it is!" She placed her hands on her hips, and stepped out from behind her van. "How you been Blue?"

"Good," said Blue, her fingers tightening around her phone. She'd found the words slipped easily from her mouth, the lie sliding off her tongue instead of getting stuck in the back of her throat. "You?"

"Oh, I'm good." She turned her head, eyeing the mound of boxes on the ground, and the mountain of boxes still inside the van. She wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead. Now that she was in the light, Blue noticed her skin was flushed, and her baby hairs, that were usually laid to perfection, had started sprouting away from her hairline.

"What's all that?"

Mrs. Grizzle sighed. "Minerva's order for the Hallowe'en festivities tonight. All 1,003 oozie boozies, primed to release blood-curdling screams the second they're cut into. Immy really outdid herself this year."

Immy? Blue glanced at the school, then back at Mrs. Grizzle. "There's no one helping you?"

"Minerva was supposed to, but she had a last minute emergency to tend to. With so many up and coming wizards and witches around, something's bound to explode."

At that, Blue blushed. It had only been a few days since the cauldron accident. Classes had resumed the next day without incident, and potions was held in the dungeons as usual. It shouldn't have come as a surprise when the dungeon walls had been scrubbed of their scorch marks, the hole in the floor had been patched up, and the desk had been replaced and topped with a brand new, shiny copper cauldron, but it had been. It was impressive, how quickly they had rid the room of her mistakes.

Even Professor Dirk had looked immaculate. He had swapped his locs for chin-length twists, but when Blue had asked him about it, he insisted he changed his style once every three months and that he would have done so, with or without a fireball singeing his hair.

"I could call on the house elves," continued Mrs. Grizzle. "but the poor dears are busy as is. I'm told Gobs runs a very tight ship, making sure not a plate of food heads up to the Great Hall without his approval. It must be twice as hectic in there now, with the party tonight."

Blue rounded the fence that separated the grass from the gravel drive, pocketing her phone. "Want some help?"

Mrs. Grizzle's eyes widened. "Oh really?" She breathed out and her shoulders relaxed, relieved of their mountainous burden. "That'd be wonderful. You're such a dear."

Grabbing a stack of boxes off the ground, Blue smiled. "It's the least I can do to repay you for all those sweets you send me."

Madeline filled her arms with double the amount Blue carried. "I'm glad you enjoy them. With the holiday season coming up, I'm planning the Dust's winter menu. I'm thinking eggnog and nutmeg custards, cranberry and mulled wine tray bakes and gingerbread. Sound good to you?"

"Everything," said Blue, mouth watering, "sounds divine."

"Then I'll be sure to send you three of each, muggle-made, of course."

"Thank you."

Together, they headed toward the small door that served as the entrance to the kitchens.

*

Madeline was right; the kitchen was a flurry of activity. House elves scurried across the floor, stirring pots as big as their bodies. They had to stand on stools to reach the burners and to pull fresh loaves of sourdough from the ovens. Gobs was Hogwarts' Head Chef, and the only elf who wore clothes. He had two lace doilies draped over his shoulders like the epaulettes of some war-hardened general. A snowflake patterned towel was wrapped around his midsection, and he wore a pair of socks, deep green with holes in both toes, that came up past his knees.

After Blue and Mrs. Grizzle had brought in the last of the ozzie boozies, and after McGonagall had joined them, levitating  the reminder of the the boxes inside, Gobs had insisted they sit down and take a break. He served them hot cocoa with homemade marshmallows alongside an assortment of freshly baked cookies.

Warm dark chocolate coated Blue's tongue and dripped down her throat. She relaxed into her chair, her feet propped up on an extra stepping stool. Maddie crunched on a shortbread.

"Fantastic," she declared, slapping her thigh in delight. "You've done it again, Gobs. Truly." The house elf turned away from a cutting board where he was instructing two of his subordinates in the proper way to chop onions, to glance up. His giant, bat-like wings twitched, and his round, black eyes glittered.

"You honor, Gobs, Mrs. Grizzle." He bowed his enormous head.

"I mean it. If you weren't so content here, I'd offer you a job at the bakery in an instant."

A flush sweep across the elf's pebbled cheeks. "Very content, Gobs is. Mistress McGonagall treats Gobs and all us house elves very well." Around him, rose a chorus of, "very wells" from the other house elves.

He returned to his work, correcting bad form, adjusting the seasoning on the sauces, salting giant pots of boiling water. The way he flew around the room, and tended to the stations, Blue thought he must be apparating, or doing the house elf equivalent at least. Once he ensured the rye loaves had properly proofed, he sat on a stool and started peeling potatoes, his ears shiny with sweat.

Mrs. Grizzle brushed a few cookie crumbs from her chin and lap. "I mean it," she said, leaning close to Blue. "Gobs bakes a mean shortbread. I'd ask for the recipe, except I know it'd hurt Imelda."

"Really?" Blue took another sip of her chocolate, hands warmed from the residual heat of the mug.

"She'd take it personally and then she'd spend weeks without sleep perfecting her own shortbread recipe."

"And how is Mrs. Grizzle?"

"She's ecstatic now that Minerva sent over the payment for the boozies. With a generous tip too, she tells me. Wants to close the shop for a week, and do nothing but sleep."

Blue chuckled. "She certainly will have earned it."

"True, but she's all talk. My Immy would never be able to stay away from the shop that long. It's her life's work, and a testament to our love. It's hard, of course, and she's certainly vocal when things go bottom's up, but when I see her back there, a dozen wooden spoons stirring custards or whipping creams, she's always smiling. It's a smile I'd do anything to protect."

Blue imagined her dad had felt that way about her mom. After Blue had been put to bed, she'd often sneak downstairs to nab a few cookies from the jar. In the summer, she'd stumble across her parents, sitting together on the back porch swing. The chains were rusty, and they creaked, but they'd swing, and sit in silence, and watch the stars with smiles. When Blue had gotten older, and her bedtime had gotten later, she'd been invited to those quiet family observations of the night sky. It was one of many things she missed.

"You adjusting well?" asked Madeline, lifting her mug to her lips. Immediately, her face was bathed in steam.

"I blew up a cauldron and caused fireballs to tear through the dungeons."

"Oh, Blue!" Riotous laughter burst from Mrs. Grizzle's mouth. She lowered her cup onto her lap. "Good thing I hadn't drank yet, or I'd have been wearing all of Gob's cocoa."

"Not for wearing," called the house elf, who mopped sweat off his nose, "Gob's chocolate only for drinking!"

With a grin, Madeline raised her cup, and took a gulp. "My word, that is delicious." She wiped her mouth. "Delicious, Gobs!"

The house elf nodded before hurrying over to the ovens. Three house elves were struggling to lift a roast to the counter. It was huge, and glistened a dark golden brown. Potatoes, carrots and brussel sprouts were piled high around it. Sprigs of rosemary shot from its skin like crispy horns. With Gobs' help, they managed to set it down, with only one potato jumping from the tray. 

Mrs. Grizzle took another shortbread, plopped it into her mouth, and returned her attention to Blue. "Manage to share any brownies with young master Malfoy?"

Blue almost choked on a snowman-shaped marshmallow which  would have been a waste as Gobs marshmallows were heavenly, and he'd decorated them with little faces, complete with coal eyes and carrot noses. The house elves, like a lot of people Blue had known seemed to like Halloween because it marked the beginning of the Christmas season. 

 "Uh, no." Heat rose to her cheeks. She hoped to hide her embarrassment behind her mug. "That last package you sent me got caught in the explosion and—" it got turned into ash alongside so many other things.

"I've given you plenty of brownies before that," said Madeline. 

An astute observation, thought Blue. Maybe too astute. 

"The others," Blue fiddled with her hands, fingers tapping the side of her mug, the last bit of her chocolate cresting against the sides, "went stale." 

The older woman nodded understandably though Blue felt bad. She hadn't meant for the brownies to go stale. She'd wanted to share them with Scorpius but there'd never been a good time. She was either busy ignoring James, or squashing some argument between him and Rose, or plants were sneezing on her, and fireballs were exploding near her head. There hadn't been a moment that seemed right. 

"Well, then," Mrs. Grizzle set her cup on the table between their two seats, alongside the now half-empty tray of cookies. She moved to the coat rack, where her coat had been hung by one of the house elves. It covered several aprons, sewn from tea cozies, it looked like, and trimmed with fringe made from fuzzy bath mats.

She reached into one of the pockets, pulling out something Blue couldn't make out, and then returned to her seat.

"Here."

She held out a little cellophane bag, decorated with grinning jack-o-lanterns. Inside, it was near-bursting with goodies. Blood pops, and dancing jellies. Sour slimes, and candy skeletons. There were also a few things from the bakery – iced sugar cookies shaped like witch's hats and black cats, snarling skeletons. A brownie covered in silky chocolate ganache and black and orange sprinkles.

"The treats are Muggle, but the candy, well, that's from George Weasley's shop. The things he sells there don't always do what the package says they will. Claims his customers like the element of surprise."

Blue turned the bag over in her hand. "Did you know you'd run into me?"

"No, of course not and Imelda didn't know either. She failed divinations, big time." Blue only knew faintly of Divinations, which was taught by a centaur many students found handsome, and Rose absolutely loathed. "I'm glad I did, though. You saved me a lot of time, helping me unload those boozies, and, I warrant, a long stint soaking my sore muscles in the bath. I made those for the house elves – they love sweets, you know. I just happen to have extras." Her gaze flew back to her coat, her eyes glimmering. "I have enough for you to give to your friends, and Mr. Malfoy, if you'd care to." She gave a knowing wink.

Blue's skin erupted like she'd spent hours roasting away in an oven. "I'd like to," she said, closing her fingers around the gift bag. "Thanks, Mrs. Grizzle."

A dark hand flew out and smacked Blue on the shoulder. "Call me, Maddie, dear."

It didn't feel right calling an adult by their first name, but Mrs. Grizzle's eyes were shining and imploring, and she flashed Blue such an earnest smile, she couldn't help but give in. 

"Thanks, Maddie."

With a shake of her head, she stood up, stretching her arms over her. "Well, before I gorge myself on Gobs' cooking and need to sleep off my food coma in this chair, I ought to be returning to Imelda."

"Do you and Mrs. Grizzle," Blue might have been swindled into calling one Mrs. Grizzle by her first name, but she wouldn't dare call Imelda Grizzle by anything other than Mrs., "do anything to celebrate Halloween?"

"We live in a cozy flat in Muggle London. We get plenty of trick-or-treaters. After that, we'll probably relax on the couch and watch The Wizard of Oz."

Blue's eyebrows lifted.

Maddie grinned. "It's Imelda's favorite movie. She gets a kick out of those trees."

"The ones that pelt Dorothy and her friends with their apples?"

"The very ones."

Maddie gave a smile and Blue enough treat bags for her friends, and, after thanking Gobs for a very delicious snack, she left. Blue still had some time left, so she sat in the kitchens, watching the house elves dart behind each other to check a stove, or take a pot off the burner, or catch the tea pot just as it began snorting steam. They were, in every sense, a well oiled machine under Gobs' watch. 

Eventually, her eyelids grew droopy and she returned to the dorms for a nap. In her dreams, she was back on the porch, sandwiched between her parents, gazing out at the stars, their smiles every bit as warm and sweet as Gobs' hot chocolate.

*

"Leave it to Rosie to be late for—" James glanced around the empty common room, his eyes dark, his typical smirk, flattened by an irritated frown. "—whatever this is." 

He fell back in a chair, kicking his legs onto a nearby table. A gallant knight shook on his horse, his jousting lance spearing a square of black. He let out a tiny curse, raising the visor on his helmet to scowl up at James for the disturbance. James snickered at the tiny knight, and placed the piece back on the chess board. 

Albus was seated on the couch, smack dab in the middle, Hogwarts, A History open on his lap. Xen paced across the floor, examining the Gryffindor Common room. She'd only been in the tower a few times, and she very much preferred the color scheme to that of Ravenclaw's. 

Scorpius stood next to Blue, beside the fireplace, eyes closed, and leaking air.

For the past week, he'd been more tired than usual. She nudged him in the shoulder, causing his eyelids to flutter open. "You okay?"

"Hmm?" He shook his head, his hair falling out of the combed back style it'd been in. A yawn crawled out of his mouth, and even it seemed exhausted. "I'm fine."

She didn't believe him, but since Albus didn't seem too worried, and he was his best friend, she didn't feel like she needed to pry further. She'd keep an eye on him of course, him being her partner and all. 

Partners, that's all. 

"Ugh." James's head lulled back. "Come on Rosie! I know it takes effort wrangling that bottom of yours into—"

"Boo!"

Rose popped up behind them. James's rolled his eyes. Albus slowly raised his head, his fingers wedged between the pages of his book to preserve his place. Scorpius released another yawn. Only Blue and Xen had reacted - Blue jumping from surprise, her heart racing and Xen, giggling and clapping.

Xen's clapping continued, and Rose bowed, arms sweeping out around her.

"Godric, what are you wearing?"

Rose rounded on her cousin, sticking him with the bristles of a broom, one she no doubt borrowed from a female member of Gryffindor's Quidditch team. Rose didn't have her own broom. "Can't you tell?"

She turned to the side, her black robes swishing back and forth. Her face was green, and there was a large, black spot on her nose. She wore her witch's hat, out of which stuck pieces of straw. In her free hand, she clutched a pile of wrinkled fabric. "Well?" she asked, excitedly.

"You're a witch," drawled Albus. His attention immediately returned to his book, the rest of the world cast aside for endless pages about Hogwarts founders. 

Rose harrumphed.

"You look like that witch in the Great Hall."

At Blue's words, Rose threw her arms into the air. "Ding, ding ding! We have a winner. I'm a Muggle witch."

"You look positively warty."

Rose practically bounced at Xen's compliment. "Good, I'm sure you all will look great in your costumes too." 

As soon as the words left her mouth, Rose was assaulting them with fabric. Scorpius's landed at his feet, Albus's smacked him in the face. Xen made it a game, jumping up to snatch the fabric flung her way, mid-air. She missed, every time, but she smiled victoriously all the same. James's had used his Quidditch reflexes to snatch his out of the air like it was a snitch.

 Rose handed Blue hers.

Frowning, James's turned his costume, which was no more than strips of white fabric, over in his palms. "What's this?"

"That's—" Rose scooped up the fabric and looped one of the strips over his face. "—a mummy."

"—an't –ath, --osie." James's voice was muffled, Rose having already taken the liberty to wrap his entire head. She wrapped his mouth up twice and left no air holes.

"There needs to be holes." Blue pointed at Rose's rushed mummification. "So he can see and breathe."

Rose plopped herself on the armchair and crossed her legs. She picked at her nails, black, their tips a dripping neon green. Throwing Blue a grin, she asked, "Should there be, really?"

She raised a good point. A silent James was a James that couldn't flirt his way under Blue's skin. A blinded James was one that couldn't look at Blue like she was the only person in the room. James unable to breath was something she knew she shouldn't desire, though he wouldn't be able to invade her personal space what with being too busy rolling around on the ground and gasping for breath.  

However, despite the pros, Blue decided James should be freed, at least from this particular torture. So she walked over, and peeled back the fabric. 

James staggered back, his glasses crooked on his snout. "Merlin's beard, I could have suffocated."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Overdramatic much?"

His eyes narrowed. He gave an irritated oink. "I'll have you know, cousin, I left the Hallowe'en party, and a chance to dance with Morgana Plims, for this? To almost be killed? At least try to do it after the match with Hufflepuff. We need the win to take the lead." He fell back into his seat and huffed.

Albus turned over his costume, cautiously, as though the fabric might grow fangs and sink them into his hands.  It was another Hogwarts robe, only dusty pink stars had been sewn on the sleeves and along the hem. "Hey, that looks like—" He got to his feet, waving the robe over his head. For the first time around Blue ever, his cheeks were flushed. "Rose! You cut up my dress robes?"

She shrugged.

Albus shook. "I only have one pair!"

"Then get more. It's not like Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny won't buy you new ones."

He lowered his arm, and sat down, a crease between his eyebrows. "I didn't want new ones. I liked these ones."

"Then you must like my stars."

Blue thought she heard Albus growl. 

"What even is Albus supposed to be?" she asked.

Rose plucked a conical hat off a lampshade, that had landed there, rather than on Albus's lap when she'd thrown it. She plopped it on his head. Albus's wand hand twitched. It was a larger version of a witch's hat, and two stars had been stitched to it, the brim covered in silver glitter. She then removed a beard, though it was really more a piece of rope strung up with limp noodles and painted white. "He's a muggle wizard!"

Not wanting to disparage Rose and all the hard work she'd clearly put into all of this by telling her that stars had five points and not four, and that muggle wizards didn't have beards made of slimy spaghetti noodles, Blue simply smiled and nodded.

"I'm not wearing this, Weasley." 

Among all the chaos, Blue had forgotten Scorpius had been there. While she no longer thought he was as stoic as a statue, he, at times, could be as quiet as one.

"Why not?" Rose thumped her foot against the ground.

He raised a pair of black cat ears and frowned.

"It's perfect for you. You're very cat-like."

"Cats don't like breadcrumbs," Xen said. She swung a wooden sword, a pair of pauldrons draped over her shoulders. They looked real - the metal tarnished and pock marked. Blue realized then, that somewhere in Hogwarts a suit of armor was missing some of its parts. "A friend told me that once." She sliced the air, her sword slaying invisible foes, as her bright eyes slid over to Blue. A smile bloomed across her face.

"Neither does, Malfoy," said Rose, turning back to face him. "See? You have plenty in common with cats, Scorp—"

"No."

"But—"

Sensing an imminent standoff between the witch and wizard, Blue stepped forward. I volunteer as tribute... "I'll be a cat." She held her hand out for the ears. "I like cats."

Something in Scorpius's expression hardened. His hand closed around the ears and he yanked them away from her hand. "I'll be a cat." Grumbling, he threw them on his head, making for one very grumpy cat. Blue chuckled.

"What's Blue going to be?" he asked Rose, arms crossed over his chest.

Rose raised a white towel. It'd been cut and sewn to resemble...curtains? Blue took it, trying to keep the confusion from troubling her expression. Then Rose handed her a tiny pair of white wings. She plopped a crown of white garland on Blue's head.

"Oh," Blue said, understanding. "An angel?"

Rose nodded.

"At least you got that right," James said, strangling the fabric of his costume. "Turner is rather angelic."

Ignore it, she thought. Ignore him.

She whirled around and straight into Scorpius's line of sight. He was looking at her, his gaze searching or scrutinizing, she couldn't tell which, either option making Blue an antsy mess. She played with the plastic baby's breath hanging in front of her eyes.

"You look--"

Not wanting to hear what he said, in case it was making fun of her, or worse, it wasn't making fun of her, she took a step toward him. "A cat needs his whiskers."

Scorpius blinked, his shoulders flinching like he hadn't realized Blue had gotten so close.

"I have some leftover black paint," called Rose. "Want me to Accio it?"

Scorpius's eyes flicked between Rose and Blue. "Yeah," he said finally. 

Leaning close to Blue, he added, low enough for her ears only, "Let's see if your drawing skills are as angelic as the rest of you." Blue was right not to let him finish his sentences; they always ended with her face erupting.

He made his way to a chair beside a window without another word while Rose summoned the paint. A tube came barreling down the stairs, depositing itself into Rose's waiting hand. Blue, refusing to let Scorpius wreak havoc on her like James had, grabbed the paint and moved over to him.  

He was already seated, legs crossed, back straight, one briefcase shy of being a businessman in a boardroom. 

She squirted some paint onto her hand and bit her lip. "I don't have a brush." 

Scorpius rooted around his pockets, and pulled out a wand. 

"You're carrying your wand?"

He hadn't had any wand on him ever. While the others - specifically James talking about how big his was and Rose talking about how willow made for a more pliable wand and more fluid movements, perfect for lobbing hexes - always had theirs on them. Even Albus kept his tucked away in a holster on his hip. 

"Not my wand," he corrected. "A loaner. And a terrible one at that. But the tip's slender enough  to draw on a pair of whiskers."

His wand had been broken, Blue remembered him saying. And he hated his replacement - something about it not matching his magic.

With very nervous fingers, Blue took the wand. It tingled her skin, and when she concentrated, she could hear it singing. But it's song was different than Scorpius's - too fast, too forceful. The notes were in no particular pattern, no order. No wonder they didn't get along. "Aren't wands important? And expensive? I don't have a Galleon on me should I break it." Was there a wizarding world equivalent of the saying, you break it, you buy it? 

"My parents have vaults full of Galleons." 

She shivered. Vaults. 

He really was every bit the rich boy James complained he was.

"But shouldn't they be taken care of? I see Albus polishing his every day." 

At this, Albus blushed, his fingers coiling around the end of his wand.

"Albus is," Scorpius thought a moment, concentration lines appearing between his eyes. Finally, he settled on, "a special case." This made Albus's blush worsen. "On the flip side, Rose loses her wand every couple of weeks. Usually, in the bin under her soiled--"

"Scorpius Malfoy," yelled Rose as she stomped across the room. "Don't say another word." 

Without looking back, he continued, directing his words at Blue. "She's threatening to hex me?" He blew out, and pushed the hair from his face.

Sure enough, Rose's wand, not lost in the depths of her hamper, was out and pointed directly at his head. 

Blue laughed. "Yep." 

His grey eyes slid over Blue's face. "And you won't be stepping in to save me, will you?"

"What with your cat-like reflexes?" She shrugged. "I'm sure you'll dodge it." 

She winked, feeling downright devilish then, Rose's homemade halo slipping further off her head. 

"I never miss a target," piped up Rose. 

Scorpius pursed his lips. At wand tip and under threat of hex, Blue managed to draw on him pretty good whiskers - they weren't as straight as they could be, but they also weren't as squiggly as she knew they probably should have been given her failing grades in elementary art classes. She blackened his nose and Xen christened him Grendel the Grouchy, much to James's elation. 

After that, Rose led everyone from the room, and down the corridor. It didn't seem like they were going in any particular direction until Blue saw the red door of the Room of Requirement appear before them. 

Rose's grin widened, and in a low, nasally voice, she gave her best muggle witch imitation. "Boiled turnips and bubblegum. Cauldron burble, I give you--" She leveled their broom at each of them. "--Halloween!" 

"Hit your head, Rose? Ya?" James's glasses slide down his nose what with his ears hidden behind layers of bandages. He pushed them back up, clearly annoyed. "Hallowe'een's what we were celebrating. That's what I was about to celebrate in private with Morgana Plims before whatever this is." 

Undeterred, Rose continued, "We're not celebrating that kind of Halloween." She reached for Blue, tucking her arm under hers. "We're celebrating muggle Halloween for Blue." Blue's mouth dried, her friend's eyes flicking up to meet hers. "You've never been trick-or-treating, right?" Blue nodded. Rose grabbed the door knob, and peeled it back. "Well now you will have."

Blue had heard about the Room of Requirement turning into whatever was required of it, but she never thought it could be so...magical. Silly, she knew. 

Before her was a street, lit with lamplights, lined with cars. Copper-colored trees stood like sentinels in trimmed but browning lawns. The air smelled of rain and mold. Jack-o-lanterns perched on porch steps, their toothy grins illuminated by flickering candlelight. Ghosts hung from branches, cobwebs swooped across entranceways, and every light, above every door was turned on. 

She had to grit her teeth to stave off the tears. She whirled on Rose and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you." 

Rose closed her arms around Blue's waist. "You're welcome." 

James blew out a heavy sigh. "Well, with Turner this happy, how am I to stay mad?" He poked a mailbox covered in plastic spiders. 

In front of them, the room provided six bags, perfect for filling up with candy. 

Rose passed one to each of them. "You're going to have to lead the way," she reminded Blue. "None of us know the first thing about tricking and treating."

"I know plenty about tricking." James smirked. "And Rosie's bum knows plenty about treats, given that's what makes it so big." 

Rose shook her head and exhaled. "I'll hex him later."

"Blue?" 

Blue turned toward Albus. "What's with all the house lights being on?" 

"Oh!" She rocked on the heels of her feet. "I know this. It's to indicate which houses have treats." 

"And the houses that don't have treats?" asked Scorpius. 

"Why clearly," said James. "Those houses are for tricking."

"But we're not going to do any tricking." At Blue's words, James deflated. "We're just going to ring the door bell, offer up our bags and say, 'trick-or-treat.'"

"And?" James ran his head through the tuffs of hair peeking up between his bandages. 

"We get treats." 

He narrowed his eyes. "Just like that?" 

"Yep. Just like--" 

Suddenly, Blue was reminded of the fullness of her pockets. She still had Mrs. Grizzle's little treat bags. "Everyone," she stepped forward, "close your eyes and hold out your bags." 

"Going to kiss me, Turner? I like girls that make the first move." 

"No. God no. Never." She shook her head so hard she thought all her hair might fall out. 

Rose laughed. "There she goes again, rebuking you so completely. You must be devastated." 

James's eyes flitted toward the ground, his cheeks a little pink. 

Only Xen had closed her eyes when Blue asked everyone too. 

Blue waited. Albus closed his, then James and Rose. Scorpius grinned like he knew what Blue was planning before he too shut his eyes. Blue dropped a treat bag in each. 

"Okay, open them." 

They all looked nervously at their bags. 

"Ooh, a Flour Dust brownie," said Xen, showing her bag to her pocket to inspect. 

"The new blood pops from Uncle George's shop," exclaimed James. "Heard he improved their spurting abilities."

Albus thanked her with a silent nod. 

"Blue--" Rose turned hers over in her hands, eyes misting. She held it to her chest, like it was special. "Thank you. No one's ever...I'll savor everything."

Scorpius wormed his way next to her, and slipped one of her headphones off her ear. He didn't need to thank her for her to catch it in his song, brightening his notes, and giving his melody levity. 

She grinned. "Happy Muggle Halloween, everyone." She hoped it would the first of many. 

They tricked and treated late into the night, until their bags brimmed with candy. Once they visited all the houses on the lane, the Room would shift, a new street would appear, and they'd start all over again. By the time they were done, and heading back to their dorms, Blue's legs ached from walking, her stomach ached from laughing, her throat was sore from talking, and despite it all, she had never felt lighter, the cloud of zero messages no longer looming over her head.