smashin in the sides, I make the clouds erupt

Wednesday August 22nd, 1923

Now that some time since she’d shaken her parental escort had passed, Lovelace thought she might need to be a bit more careful about them spotting her. She wasn’t hiding exactly, though she was also no longer sticking to the middle of the street like an absolute drongo tourist, and she was now keeping at least one eye out for either looming figure that’d drag her to wherever they wanted to go. It was like they’d absolutely forgotten how to have fun, let alone what it was like to be a kid, which was weird, because back in Australia, her father had been very aware of how to cut loose.

Lovelace had also been made aware of the fact that she might be able to find some actual fellow students here, which was her current goal. She really didn’t like the fact that her father had hidden magic from her and couldn’t help feeling like she’d be starting at Hogwarts with a hand tied behind her back. Sure, it’d be cool when she did a trick like that and escaped from the water tank or whatever, but she had questions based on the very little she’d been able to find out about the wixing world. She also wanted to talk to someone about riding a broom and quidditch—her father had promised he’d talk her mom into letting her get a broom of her own if she made the team, so in her opinion, she had to make the team.

The general inability to judge age by face that Lovelace possessed might have been causing issues with achieving her goal. She knew that not everyone her exact height was her actual age, and she also knew not everyone that was taller was older, but that was all theory until you actually asked, right? Weaving through the crowds wasn’t helping, though she wasn’t about to complain: it was almost certainly providing her with good cover from her parents.

After too long—probably a minute, maybe two—Lovelace grew impatient and decided to roll the dice, heading over to the nearest people she thought could be her age. “Two’a you goin’ to Hogwarts this year?” she asked, unaware that she might seem a bit like a drug dealer with her serious approach from the side of the street like that, or that her Australian accent might be as difficult for them to parse as some especially posh people’s were to her. “Only askin’ cuz ya look it, n’ I dunno most anyone goin’ since my father kept it all from me. He’s not great at answerin’ questions, neither, plus he never went to Hogwarts, which’s why he wants me goin’.”

It was her second summer being put through the rigours of Diagon Alley and its crowds and a second summer of hating every second of it.

There were too many people. They brushed against her while going about their business; some knocked right into her – an unfortunate consequence of their carelessness that she was made to bear. For every one that smelled of a fine perfume that made the assault marginally more tolerable, there were another three or four, boiling in their own sweat, rubbing their scents against her delicate lavender. By the time she managed to gain for herself any reprieve, Kathryn feared she would smell like a middle-aged, overworked parent and at least three of their children.

The sounds were equally offensive. With the summer still in full swing, the alley was overrun by several of her schoolmates and some that she assumed were new. They shouted in excitement; some squealed as they barrelled down the over-populated streets.

They were among the worst. The physics and common sense of being unable to go through solid structures – as people certainly were – gave way to whatever urgency propelled them down the street. It was a losing battle from the start but one she was required to endure while her mother made a few personal stops. Mind you, the girl had every intention of following the woman from shop to shop, playing the role of solemn, dutiful shadow, but they'd run into Avery somewhere back at the robes shop, and Julia – cunning woman that she liked to be – had seen it as her opportunity to be elsewhere. It had all been rather diplomatic. The woman had smiled warmly and declared she would be right back before encouraging her to catch up with 'her little friend'.

Avery wasn't particularly little, standing around 4 inches taller than her, but she supposed he was scrawny enough that it still counted.

Fine. He could be little.

The pair stood by the window of the book shop, Kathryn informing him of her latest read and its consequences.

It wasn't particularly riveting, her quill wrote. The doodles were also amateur at bes–

“Two’a you goin’ to Hogwarts this year?”

The grating words interrupted the quill before it could conclude its sentence, a result of Kathryn's only startle reflex at the sudden interruption.

Icy blue eyes meandered from her... friend to the source. Bound for Hogwarts, most like. She was rude enough to fit right in, inserting herself into a conversation she wasn't invited to, thinking it entitled her to pleasantries that Avery was sure to offer. He never learned.

“Only askin’ cuz ya look it, n’ I dunno most anyone goin’ since my father kept it all from me. He’s not great at answerin’ questions, neither, plus he never went to Hogwarts, which’s why he wants me goin’.”

Her enchanted quill hovered by the floating notebook for a moment, paralysed by Kathryn's contemplation. To 'look' like she belonged to Hogwarts was insult enough, without the symphony of nails scratching against chalkboard every time she spoke.

Enunciation matters. the quill eventually opined, the girl herself remaining as silent as a crypt.

The boy was torn.

On one hand, he couldn't wait to resume his magical studies and get back to the Hospital Wing and Potions room to begin his experiments. He'd spent the better part of his summer making a list of theories and hypothesis, narrowing down likely outcomes whether favorable or not. Since his father's diagnosis in June, Avery had been adamantly throwing himself into what muggle research was available to him - books and articles mostly - to try and understand his father's illness and the current treatments that were available.

A vaccine, not widespread and somewhat ineffective still. Avery needed access to Hogwarts, and fast.

On the other hand, he was dreading a return to the bully-infested halls that sought to rain down misery on Kathryn and himself. Laura and Dorothy and all their ilk still presumably would be wandering the premises, proving once again that the neurological requirements for walking and speaking were disappointingly low.

With his mother enjoying a bit of lunch for herself, the second day of Avery's school shopping had commenced, and he'd been waved off when he'd caught sight of Kathryn and Professor Barlowe - the lady one. It still didn't seem appropriate for professors to be existing as normal humans outside of Hogwarts, but who was Avery to question the great matters of the universe?

Actually, he knew exactly who he was. "It sounds like a book that wouldn't interest me, if I'm being honest," the boy quipped as they stopped in front of the bookstore window. Kathryn had apparently found a book on the nature of mating and human relations, a subject that held as much interest for the young boy as Quidditch did. He didn't need a book to explain what he saw on his farm regularly, and frankly, it all seemed a rather uncomfortable business.

Why Kathryn found it a subject worth studying, he didn't know. "If you want to know about that stuff, just come up to my farm for a week or two during the spring," he said with a slight shrug. "My father breeds the sheep around that time in preparation for the fall herd." He didn't know why she'd want to.

It wasn't particularly riveting, The doodles were also amateur at bes–

“Two’a you goin’ to Hogwarts this year?”

Who? Avery jumped at the sudden voice, turning quicker than Kathryn did, and he cocked his head slightly at the girl that had wandered up to them. He didn't recognize her as anyone they knew, but Avery was known to crash a party too here and there. It was how he'd won over Kathryn around this time last year.

Sometimes, you had to invite yourself into another's orbit. He could respect it.

“Only askin’ cuz ya look it, n’ I dunno most anyone goin’ since my father kept it all from me. He’s not great at answerin’ questions, neither, plus he never went to Hogwarts, which’s why he wants me goin’.”

"An astute observation," Avery praised her, a smile playing on his lips. His tone was a bit more upbeat and slower than usual, as though she were a toddler and he was giving the girl a 'good job' for successfully piecing together what he considered a fairly generous collection of clues. "We are. Second years, actually. Well, we will be second years. Technically we're presently between academic years, so I suppose the distinction is relevant."

He paused a moment, nudging Kathryn with his elbow, indicating her to be polite. Her little scribbled note was anything but. They'd discussed this before, and how important it was to try and win more friends and not more enemies. Even if they were lower in intellectual abilities than the two Ravenclaws.

"This is Kathryn Barlowe. I'm Avery Hale. Are you a muggleborn?" Why else wouldn't her father have attended Hogwarts?

The boy’s startling at her voice made Lovelace’s face screw up into concern that she’d interrupted something. Sure, it had looked like the boy was talking, but she’d thought the girl was just ignoring him, which was fair enough. Part of the reason she had decided to head over was to see if the girl was drawing—which Lovelace realized with disappointment that she hadn’t been. With nothing interesting to look at there, Lovelace turned her nosy eyes to look at the boy, who was responding a little slowly.

Eyes closing slightly as she nodded her head with a sympathetic smile as she realized that he was probably a slow talker, Lovelace thought maybe she understood the situation a little better. Most likely, the girl had been waiting for the boy to finish and hadn’t wanted to rush him. Rushing could make things worse, depending on what was making him talk slower. As her eyes opened again to take the duo in and respond, he continued talking—maybe a little faster? That seemed like a good thing, if he was comfortable enough to at least maintain his speed around her, so Lovelace considered herself welcome to continue talking to the both of them.

“Seems relevant to me,” Lovelace agreed, eyebrows raising at the thought, “What with me thinkin’ I was a first year, but I guess that starts when the year does?” she suggested, tilting her head to the side. “So I guess I’m a zeroth year at the moment?” she joked with a grin. She had rarely considered school to be something important, except when something managed to capture her imagination, so had rarely considered the mechanics or rules of it. They’d always moved quickly enough that she’d never managed to get expelled from any of the schools she’d had to attend, so it had never caused problems for her. The suspensions she’d managed to get were really just good fun, in her opinion.

Lovelace smiled brightly when introductions were made, feeling like she might be on her way to making two new friends. “Nice to meet ya, Kathryn Barlowe and Avery Hale!” she responded happily, doing her best to make eye contact with each as she said their names. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she moved on to consider the question, “Nah, I don’t think?” she asked as a reply to his question, “My mother’s a muggle, but my father’s a wizard. He grew up in Australia n’ thinks he woulda been better off goin’ to Hogwarts insteada school there.”

"It sounds like a book that wouldn't interest me, if I'm being honest."

Colour her surprised, a subject matter for which Avery Hale held scant curiosity. Someone else may have taken the boy's sentence at face value, acknowledged his lack of interest and decided there was no need for further pursuit of the topic. Such social adaptability and restraint mattered very little for the girl who'd been made to endure an entire year of sheep- and wool-related facts. After sharing a house and what she might venture as far as to call 'a life', Kathryn had been taught a rather apt lesson by Avery: it didn't matter whether the audience of your lecture held any real interest in its content.

Avery didn't have to be interested in her latest budding fascination. He needed only listen. Rather, he only needed to read a few short sentences on paper and blink at appropriate intervals to assure her that his mental faculties hadn't drifted into their own daydream.

The rest could be worked out independently.

"If you want to know about that stuff, just come up to my farm for a week or two during the spring. My father breeds the sheep around that time in preparation for the fall herd."

It wasn't a sentence worth acknowledging. Kathryn couldn't imagine why she would put a pause on her education, risk getting her stockings and gloves dirty, endure the company of strangers and the smell of animals for the sake of something so unrelated to the specificity of her interests. Why would she like to stand around on a crisp day in spring watching sheep? Why would watching sheep answer any of the budding questions she'd already been made to believe she shouldn't have? Curiosity, too often, had to fight for its life against a sea of adult assumptions and age restrictions.

Kathryn had learned something else, too. This time, it didn't come from the abrasive and persistent actions of her friend but from her mother and Mr. Maddox.

This was a secret. Secrets were okay and increasingly necessary. Secrets were not universally shared with everyone for the exact reason that one didn't want to be cornered by the concerns and unsolicited opinions of others. For that reason, she'd drop the matter for the moment because Avery had already moved on to entertaining their illiterate intruder. Even worse, he'd taken it upon himself to introduce them and had begun what she knew could easily turn into a flood of questions from his end.

Why was he talking like that? And why did he think it necessary to nudge her with his elbow unprovoked?

“What with me thinkin’ I was a first year, but I guess that starts when the year does? So I guess I’m a zeroth year at the moment?”

Kathryn returned the girl's stare, unblinking. Icy blue irises never reflected the warmth that came off the girl's, her own expression remaining as impassive in its delivery.

A first year. She fit the bill. Most who attended Hogwarts already would've known better than to approach either of them for opposite reasons. They feared they might be trapped in a conversation with Avery that they might not be able to escape after and knew better than to expect a response from her. All the same, Kathryn recognised the girl could've been an incoming transfer, finding herself comforted by the fact that she wasn't. While they were unlikely to share a house, she didn't suppose she would've enjoyed sharing a year and classes.

“Nice to meet ya, Kathryn Barlowe."

...Kathryn....had yet to come to the same conclusion.

“My mother’s a muggle, but my father’s a wizard. He grew up in Australia n’ thinks he woulda been better off goin’ to Hogwarts insteada school there.”

A more agreeable statement. Perhaps her vowels would've been better formed with a proper Hogwarts education. She didn't know enough about linguistics to determine whether it was already too late.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw another of them coming, a reckless Gryffindor barrelling through the crowd and heading in their direction. Harry. The boy who'd never learned to walk before running. The food fight warrior himself. Kathryn took a measured step back, tugging Avery to do the same. Should he be so inclined, he might warn his guest of the impending collision. Written warnings didn't seem to suffice.

“Seems relevant to me. What with me thinkin’ I was a first year, but I guess that starts when the year does?”

Avery was not what he would call impressed, as it took quite a bit to evoke such a sentiment in the boy, but he was pleased to see the new girl was open to learning. A willing mind was a rare thing, and Avery would be remiss to brush off this opportunity as nothing more than a fleeting introduction. He and Kathryn were hurting for friends and the bullies that stalked them were plentiful. Allies were needed, especially those that seemed amenable to his guidance.

How painful it would be to try and rope in someone that fought him tooth and nail intellectually at every level.

Kathryn didn't seem as enthused about the prospect, but then again, unless it involved dead things, she never seemed enthused about anything. Perhaps if this new girl was a murderer or taxidermist, they'd hit it off better. In fact...

"What are your thoughts on taxidermy?" he asked the girl, waiting a beat and then continuing his seemingly out-of-nowhere rant, "I mean if an animal is already dead, preserving it doesn't make it more dead. Some people find it distasteful but I'm of the mind that if its done cleanly and the specimen is displayed well, there really shouldn't be a problem. Museums would certainly go under without it, wouldn't they?"

Not likely. There were other exhibits, but Avery wasn't fussed over those at the moment. Of course if the new girl wanted to discuss the various specimens and artifacts that could be found in, say, The British Museum, he'd be happy to once this topic was out of the way. The Mumun pottery period was one such area he desired more study.

Kathryn continued to say nothing.

“My mother’s a muggle, but my father’s a wizard. He grew up in Australia n’ thinks he woulda been better off goin’ to Hogwarts insteada school there.”

The girls words slowed and Avery found himself leaning slightly closer to ensure he understood what she was trying to say. Her accent was a bit wonky, which made it slightly more difficult to absorb her sentences coherently. Australia. Well that explained why she sounded like she had a mouth of full of water.

"So you're a halfblood. I'm a muggleborn. Means my folks don't have any magic in them. Kathryn here's a pureblood." And a child of the Mafia, but the new girl didn't need to know all that just yet. "What did you say your name was?"

Kathryn was tugging on him, and the boy had learned after the previous year to pay attention the first time when she did. Following the wariness in her eyes, his own widened as Harry came flying down the sidewalk. That boy barreled into anyone and everything without care and Avery was done with having to get him self patched up.

"Watch yourself!" Avery warned the girl, stepping back just as Harry came flying right through the middle of the three of them.