Finished The Track of Lost Things

₊⁺⋆ Date: 18th December 2024 | Number of words: 588| Dialogue: #aa5713 ⋆⁺₊

—Well, I can't blame you; who would have thought that pushy girl was right about something so... unbelievable?—. She joked, remembering how she used to talk non-stop about magic as if it were the most normal thing in the world. When Ruth mentioned her First Instance of Magic, Stelle tilted her head slightly, showing genuine curiosity. —Really? What happened? Was it something spectacular?—. she asked excitedly. There was something about hearing those stories that always made her feel a special connection to other wizards and witches, especially when it was someone as important as Ruth. —And, well, to be honest, I think part of me wanted to impress you—. Stelle admitted with a nervous giggle. —You were always so... determined. Like nothing could surprise you—.

Stelle listened to Ruth with a mixture of surprise and warmth. There was something infectious about her enthusiasm, something that, although overwhelming at first, felt genuinely comforting. Despite the flurry of words and emotions, Stelle couldn't help but smile as she watched Ruth struggle to contain her joy. However, beneath that smile, there was a slight unease. She didn't remember everything as clearly as Ruth, and that made her feel a little guilty. Ruth seemed to treasure those memories, while for Stelle, some details were still a bit fuzzy. —It's... surreal, right?—. Stelle responded with a nervous laugh. —I guess I didn't expect to see you here either... much less in a place like this—. When Ruth mentioned the ice cream shop, Stelle remembered the sunny days when they shared laughter and ice cream, but what stayed with her most was the warmth of the connection they had shared, beyond the specific details.

As Ruth continued speaking, Stelle noticed the emotion in her words and in her eyes. That spark of pure joy and vulnerability touched her heart, reminding her how special their friendship had been, even if her memory was playing tricks on her at the time. —My grandmother is fine, thanks for asking—. she responded in a warm tone, trying to keep the conversation light as her thoughts organized. —My parents are fine too, busy as always; I miss them—. When Ruth mentioned how painful it was to lose contact, Stelle felt her chest tighten. Maybe she hadn't thought about it as much as Ruth, but in that moment she realized how much their friendship had meant to the other girl. —I'm sorry we lost touch, Ruth. It wasn't intentional, and... well, life sometimes happens faster than we expect, right?—. Her smile was soft, almost a reflection of the emotion she saw in Ruth's eyes. Stelle laughed at Ruth's joke about hitting more people. —Hit more people? Well, that definitely sounds like something we should avoid right now, don't you think?—. she said, giving her a friendly little nudge on the arm.

Looking at Ruth, Stelle realized that although the details of their childhood together were not so fresh in her mind, what really mattered was right in front of her: a friend who valued her in a way few people did. Although after her joke, she couldn't help but remember her grandmother's words. She had never said it to her face to face, but she remembered how, hidden behind the large doors of that office, her grandmother warned her parents about Ruth and that she could become “a bad influence on Stelle” despite her family legacy. The truth was that she wasn't interested, and on countless occasions, her parents had completely ignored her grandmother's words and warnings about raising Stelle.

@Ruth Fairchild

𝕽uth nudged her back. “You weren’t pushy, Stelle,” she smiled, eyes softening to counteract the self-deprecating joke. “And my experience with magic was a bit…” she winced in embarrassment. She didn’t like thinking about it, especially because of how much of a panic she had gone into.

Ruth relayed the incident to her friend anyways, deciding that Stelle was worth the cringe. After all, it was only fair that Ruth told her what had happened. It wasn’t all that bad, she supposed, as compared to how others might have gone. Jan, for instance, had shattered windows…on his birthday. That seemed to rank higher in terms of chaos when placed side by side with Ruth’s first instance of magic, where she had little to no one witnessing the event besides her baby brother Ace. She could only be glad that the magic she had conjured was hair lengthening rather than something that could have placed the innocent little child in grave danger. Not that it’d ever happen. Right? Ruth frowned at that thought as she told Stelle. Ruth would have to learn more about incidences such as this. To this day, Ruth still wondered how her parents never found out about it. She wouldn’t believe herself to have been able to replicate Ace’s exact hairstyle before it was grown. Even if she somehow did, how had nobody in her family of 6 noticed the bundles of hair in the trash?

Fascinatingly suspicious, indeed.

Ruth watched Stelle take in the information with utmost excitement and found herself giggling as well. It was fun, she realised, to be able to talk about these things with someone she had actually known before coming here. Ruth wasn’t sure if she would have been able to reveal the magic to someone beyond her family. Stelle was the closet one and would be for a long while.

“I miss my parents too, and my siblings,” Ruth agreed with Stelle, casting a faraway look in a random direction, their faces lingering in the back of her mind. Perhaps she should visit the owlery again, take a trip and make some time to update her parents about how she was. Ruth was sure they’d appreciate it as much as she did for the letters they eagerly sent back. The sombre atmosphere was overwhelming, but when Ruth had cracked the joke and Stelle’s laughter rained upon them, the heavy, weighted feeling disappeared.

“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t been to much detentions here as compared to in Bath,” she shrugged, leaning back as she grasped an edge “But I can tell you something, they’re far more entertaining than sitting in a classroom waiting for time to pass by.” Detentions in Bathwick Academy were the epitome of burden and felt like a useless waste of time. That didn’t stop Ruth from punching people, though. Her lips curled into a smirk as she thought back to one where she had to squeeze oranges. How many did she…Oh, too much to count. Her hands ached and stunk with the sickly scent of the fruit for what felt like days.

Doesn’t mean she won’t stop punching people, though.

Interacting: @Stelle Mims, Mentioning: @Janosch Dehoff

₊⁺⋆ Date: 18th December 2024 | Number of words: 449| Dialogue: #aa5713 ⋆⁺₊

Stelle let her laughter drift between them like a light breeze, enjoying the way Ruth narrated her story with that mix of irony and resignation. There was something endearing about the way her friend spoke of her first experience with magic—the surprise, the unexpected chaos, and, most of all, the way the little mysteries of life seemed to align in her favor.—That sounds... incredibly suspicious—. Stelle repeated, still smiling. —I mean, if I were your mother and my child’s hair suddenly changed length overnight, I would at least question it. Or do things like that just... happen in your house?—.She shot Ruth a playful look, tilting her head slightly. —Maybe your magic wanted to cover for you from the start. Or maybe Ace conspired with you without even realizing it—.

There was something intriguing about the idea that accidental magic could hide itself. Stelle had never thought much about it before, but now she wondered if her own childhood magic had done the same on more than one occasion without her even knowing.

The conversation shifted in tone when Ruth mentioned her family, and Stelle noticed the fleeting shadow in her expression. She understood that feeling all too well—the longing to share every little detail of this new life with the people left behind, but also the fear that, over time, the distance would only grow wider. —They’d love to hear from you—. she said warmly, resting her arms on her knees as she absentmindedly swung her feet. —You could send them a letter,it’s always nice to receive one. And besides, I think the little things are important too. Sometimes, those are the ones we miss the most—.

She fell silent for a moment, letting the weight of her words linger between them. But, as was typical with Ruth, the melancholy didn’t last long before her friend made a comment about punishments in Bathwick. —Bath?—. Stelle asked, confused. —Although, thinking about it, that’s probably a much more bearable punishment than writing endless lines or cleaning without magic. But tell me…—. her eyes sparkled with mischievous curiosity as she crossed her arms. —Do you still go around hitting people just like that? Or do you have some kind of code of honor to decide who deserves a punch?—. Her tone was entirely playful, but she couldn’t help raising an eyebrow with feigned interest, as if she genuinely wanted to understand the philosophical principles behind Ruth’s antics. —Because if there are rules, I want to know them—. she added dramatically. Stelle rested her chin in her hand, watching her friend expectantly. Ruth always had stories to tell, and Stelle was more than willing to listen.

@Ruth Fairchild

𝕽uth enjoyed the way Stelle was able to coax words out of her mouth without feeling the slightest regret that she may be talking too much. With her childhood friend, conversations never seemed to end. This she realised in the back of her mind as Stelle shot her a teasing look, prompting Ruth to laugh yet again and shake her head rapidly in answer to her question. “No, no! Of course not. Magical things don’t happen at all…And Ace? He thinks people volunteer to get killed in horror movies!” Ruth couldn’t help but widen her eyes as she cracked the punchline, hoping it’d get Stelle laughing again. On a serious note, wow, to think she lived without magic for basically her whole life before coming here. It was all she had got to living as a muggle. Now she couldn’t imagine existing without it.

As the conversation flitted towards family members, Ruth nodded vigorously to the idea of sending letters to family members. “I already do that, actually! I must have sent at least three letters by now. They’ve all been replied to, and I agree! My family certainly enjoys reading my letters,” she paused, then nudged the question back at Stelle. “What about you? You seem to know much about the art of letter writing.”

Ruth faltered when Stelle stopped short of her statement rather suddenly, letting a moment of quiet pass by before the girl perked up again. Ruth was unsure of what the blonde might have been thinking about, but her friend quickly picked up the ball and began rolling once again, her dramatics causing a scoff, though humorous, out of Ruth as she waggled her eyebrows back, performing a zipper to her mouth. “Sorry, Stelle. Lips are sealed on that one.” She crossed her arms then, “Besides, who knows? You might end up telling one of the mates with punchable faces my trick behind it and they could get away,” she shrugged, then leaned in playfully, “We wouldn’t want that to happen, do we?”

Ruth could barely stop a giggling from bubbling and she resisted succumbing to it, sighing in exaggeration. “But…I guess I could tell you a secret. After all you are my friend.” She scooted closer and leaned in further such that her lips were a few inches away from Stelle’s ear. Stelle smelled of lavender, which Ruth wouldn’t usually enjoy. On Stelle, though, it was pleasant. Ignoring the feeling of warmth in her tummy, she parted her lips to whisper one word.

“Psyche.”

Ruth pounced back a split second later, leaving Stelle sitting at the fountain in hopes that she would be dumbstruck. A wide, Cheshire grin had already spread on her face as she ran away from the potential chase, her laughter ringing in the air.

₊⁺⋆ Date: 18th December 2024 | Number of words: 850| Dialogue: #aa5713 ⋆⁺₊

Ruth’s words made Stelle laugh out loud, a clear, natural sound that echoed through the air. The way her friend narrated Ace’s antics always managed to bring a smile to her face, especially when she exaggerated his reactions. The idea of someone volunteering their life in a horror movie was ridiculous, but told with Ruth’s signature drama, it became even more absurd and therefore funnier. Stelle shook her head, still laughing. —That’s incredibly dumb—. she said between laughs, bringing a hand to her face in feigned bewilderment. —But now that I think about it, isn’t there always some character who does exactly that?—.

Ruth was easy to talk to. She always had been. She couldn’t remember a single moment in her childhood when they hadn’t been exchanging words, jokes, and meaningless theories. Their relationship felt like an endless dialogue, with conversations that never seemed to have a true end point. They had grown up together in a world where magic was both a secret and an unquestionable truth, and now, seeing her in this environment, Stelle realized how much Ruth had changed since they entered Hogwarts. Before, magic was something unknown to her, something she perhaps only understood through Stelle and the stories she shared with her. But now, Ruth lived it every day. —I’m glad you’re already sending letters—. Stelle replied with a smile when the conversation took a different turn.—I can imagine your family’s excitement every time they receive one—. It was strange to think that, although they had both grown up together, their relationship with magic had been completely different. Stelle always knew it was part of her world. Her mother was a witch, her maternal grandfather a wizard, and although her father was a muggle, they never hid the existence of magic from her. Ruth, on the other hand, had spent most of her life seeing it as something alien. Now, at Hogwarts, she was experiencing it for the first time firsthand. —Yes, I do write letters, in fact, my grandmother ‘forced’ me to make a friend through them—. Stelle admitted, tilting her head thoughtfully.—My grandmother taught me to do it since I was little, and she always looks forward to hearing from me. It’s her way of making sure everything is going well. You know how she is… attentive—.

She didn’t mention that her grandmother, Andromeda Divogenia, could be insistent with those letters. Not out of affection, but out of control. But it wasn’t something she felt like telling at the moment.

The tone of the conversation changed slightly when Stelle paused, caught in a fleeting thought. When she exaggeratedly sealed her lips and crossed her arms mysteriously, Stelle narrowed her eyes, skeptical but amused. —Oh, come on, Ruth—. she said with mock drama, crossing her arms.—You can’t leave me like this—. But Ruth had already planned something else. When she leaned towards her, Stelle felt her closeness more intensely than she expected. Her scent was there, familiar and comforting, but with an unexpected note of warmth that made her blink. She wasn’t sure what she expected to hear from her friend, but she definitely wasn’t expecting what happened next.

—Psyche—.

And with that, Ruth walked away in one swift motion, leaving Stelle momentarily taken aback. The sight of her mischievous grin and laughter echoing through the air was enough to get Stelle to react almost immediately.—Ruth!—. she exclaimed, standing up in an instant.

Stelle watched Ruth walk away, smiling to herself. There was something so familiar about that moment, as if everything they had shared during their childhood was in that laughter and that running away. But something had changed in Stelle since they arrived at Hogwarts, a change she couldn’t help but notice. As Ruth walked away with her overflowing enthusiasm, Stelle stood still, observing the scene with a calmness she had never had before. There was something about her that didn't feel completely trapped in those same games anymore. She didn't feel the need to chase Ruth like she used to. Instead, she watched her run with a slight smile on her lips, in no hurry to catch up with her. That was strange, she never thought it was a bad idea to play something for fun. She knew Ruth wanted her to chase her, that it was all part of their usual dynamic, but Stelle was no longer completely that little girl who ran after her friend just for fun. No, something in her had changed, she had become a little more thoughtful, calmer. She could enjoy the moment, but she wouldn't feel obliged to follow the pace Ruth set, not when her own thoughts were taking her in a different direction.

Ruth's laughter hung in the air, and Stelle felt a faint hint of nostalgia. This was a moment she had hoped to enjoy as she had before, running after her friend as if there was nothing more important in the world. —Ruth, come here—. she said, her voice calm, as she adjusted her skirt so she could follow her with a cheerful but calm step

@Ruth Fairchild

And there the two of them were, reliving their childhood. Or at least, a fraction of it.

Things had changed. Ruth Fairchild had grown, Stelle Mims had grown. Ruth Fairchild was reveling in the knowledge that she was a witch, and Stelle Mims was owning it. Yet, as the two looped around the fountain of the courtyard, it felt, for a split second, that they were young again. That they were six, laughing as they chased each other around town. When they got ice cream at the Ice Cream parlours, exchanging stories that ran with imagination. When they planted tulips together, admiring their beauty with those gleaming, innocent eyes.

And then it was gone, that bittersweet taste in Ruth's mouth as Stelle morphed from her younger self to the more graceful one, the one who obeyed her grandmother, the one who no longer found the need to chase after her childhood friend. And then it was gone, the trace of childish naivety within her heart as her wrists brushed against the sleeves of her robe every so often, reminding her of what she wore, where she was. Ruth slowed to a stop, letting Stelle land in step with her before continuing around the loop, the sky easing from its spin. Unconsciously, she grasped Stelle's hand, her warm ones against hers. Just like when they were younger.

Change happened. It was inevitable. There would always be something that nudges life out of status quo. But it didn't mean that everything had to change. Ruth squeezed her hand, her wide smile softening into a smaller one. Their friendship didn't have to change.

Stelle Mims, Ruth Fairchild.

Ruth Fairchild, Stelle Mims.

End.