Guy Fawkes And Friends

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Graci had a hard time studying most days. She didn't have ADHD or dyslexia so she figured it could be harder, but she just could never focus. Almost like her brain couldn't focus on one thing long enough for it to even register.

Occasionally she went to the study room to make her feel better at her academic abilities, but she gave up all hope when the common room and study room had people in them.

Welp, I guess today will be either a doodling or journaling day.

At least, that was what she was thinking before she got called over by a boy in Ravenclaw robes. He seemed familiar and his name was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't remember for the life of her.

He had waved her over and moved some books. An invitation to help with homework if she'd ever seen one.

When he mentioned Guy, or Guido, Fawkes she immediately perked up. She had had a huge unit on semi important moments in the Catholic church and he had been featured for two days.

And Graci, being a history nerd, started sprouting off crap about Fawkes. After remembering her manners, of course.

"I do, in fact, know my fair share of facts about Fawkes. Nice to formally meet you Mikey, I'm Graci. But I have a feeling you must've heard my name somewhere if you're asking me for help with homework."

She thought back on the lessons, one of the units she was actually more excited for. "Take whichever side you want, they're dead, not like they can exile you from the church anymore. This Guy guy is best known for the gunpowder plot of '05. Sixteen O' five, mind you." She leaned back in her chair, straining to remember. "This was an act of rebellion against the Catholic Church as I remember it. Trying to assassinate the king, they were. He was found with some bombs, which lead to his execution. Death by hanging. A nasty but efficient death."

Graci knew that was only a vague outline, but she felt she half talked enough in one go.

Mikey tried to hear everything Graci said. His quill stopped on his parchment as he was idly spinning it in his fingers. After she was done, he felt relieved and impressed. "Compared to what I had so far, that was much more helpful." He turned back to his title-only paper. "To be honest, you just saved me from having to pretend to know what I'm talking about for a very long night."

He placed his hands on the desk and turned back to Graci, his face thoughtful. A moment later, he spoke again. "Isn't it strange? How do we learn names and dates? We seem to be memorizing ghosts at times and in this case but who tried to blow up who. You know, it's easy to forget that these were actual people with actual lives and motivations.”

He chuckled a little and leaned back. “In any case, I suppose I now owe you one. By the way, how do you recall all of that? I can hardly recall what color socks I'm wearing.” His eyes were slightly mischievous. "I believe I would support the people if I had to pick a side. Fireworks, bonfires, and everything.”

Suddenly, he sat up and realized how little room there was at the table between them. "Thank you. I mean it. The smile was still there, but his voice was a little quieter now, a little more earnest. "If you ever need assistance with anything other than history, let me know." "Maybe, like, Charms or something," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. That's more my style.”

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Graci was just glad to help. Even if it did show her nerdier side she figured the Ravenclaw wouldn't mind.

"I kind of take it as my jobs to help others with my random history knowledge. I couldn't tell you who the current prime minister is, or the president of the U.S. is, but I can tell you all about a guy named Guy. Ironic isn't it."

Now that Graci thought about it she realized just how much of a history nerd she was. And how many words she actually had to say. And then he said something that she had thought of often.

"I do think of that. But sometimes it's hard for me to even realize just how much I impact other peoples lives. And then it takes me a bit to realize I'm not the center of everyone's universe. Then I start going in circles and nothing actually happens." Graci laughed and shook her head. Since when did she start getting insightful? Was that even insightful? Probably not.

Graci was snapped out of her daze by him saying something about colored socks. "It's no problem, just my history loving brain geeking out. And I don't really know how I remember it. Half the time I can't even remember if I am wearing socks at all. I haven't picked a side. I'd need to look a bit more into the history-history. The deep stuff."

In all honesty, she was shocked she even remembered Guy's name, let alone all those facts. "It's no problem, and if I needed help in anything it would be transfiguration. I cannot for the life of me get my brain wrapped around it."

Mikey tilted his head as Graci spoke, a slow grin pulling at the edges of his mouth. She had this way of talking like her brain ran ahead of her words, and she was just trying to keep up. He liked that. It was easy to follow, even if it felt like trying to catch a firework mid-burst. “That’s a pretty fair trade-off, I think,” he said, tapping his quill on the table. “You give me a history lecture about some guy trying to blow up Parliament, and I’ll help you make a matchstick into a needle.” He grinned.

Her words about not being the center of everyone’s universe stuck with him. “I think we forget that a lot,” he said. He looked up from the paper to meet her eyes. “That the people we’re studying… they probably thought they were the center of everything too, at least for a minute. And now they’re names on a page.” He shrugged. “Makes you wonder what’ll be left of us one day you know.”

He shook his head snapping himself out of it before he got too philosophical. He shot her a quick grin. “Anyway. I’m holding you to that. If I need a history crash course, I’m coming to you. And in return, I’ll make sure your next transfiguration doesn’t accidentally turn your quill into a toothbrush.” He paused like he was about to say something. Then Mikey’s eyes went back to his nearly empty parchment, and he let laugh under his breath. “Guess I should probably get back to pretending I know what I’m doing.”

But before he turned fully back to his work, he glanced at Graci again. “Thanks for the help. Really.” And then, as if nothing happened, he picked up his quill spinning it absently between his fingers his foot tapping lightly under the desk and was back to work.

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Graci shrugged, "It's no problem, really. Though I might have to ask you for help wish annoying little transfiggy. I swear, it's going to be the death of me. That is, if I swore of course."

Graci got out her journal and some gel pens, figuring she wouldn't be able to do homework, not many people had left since she had arrived, so everything was still too distracting.

Well, if I can't focus on my work I might as well be a little more helpful. So she started creating main points in Mr. Fawkes's life.

𝓖𝓾𝔂 𝓕𝓪𝔀𝓴𝓮𝓼 (1570–1606) – 𝓔𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓬 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓻𝓾𝓵𝓮.
𝓖𝓾𝓷𝓹𝓸𝔀𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓟𝓵𝓸𝓽 (1605) – 𝓐 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓷 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓾𝓹 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓘 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓪 𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓬 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱.
𝓕𝓪𝔀𝓴𝓮𝓼’ 𝓡𝓸𝓵𝓮 – 𝓗𝓮 𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓭 36 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓵𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓾𝓷𝓹𝓸𝔀𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓫𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼.
𝓒𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 – 𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓸𝓷 𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 4𝓽𝓱, 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷, 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓯𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭.
𝓣𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓭 & 𝓔𝔁𝓮𝓬𝓾𝓽𝓮𝓭 – 𝓖𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓾𝓹 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓸-𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮; 𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓴 𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓮𝔁𝓮𝓬𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷.
𝓑𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮 𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 (𝓝𝓸𝓿 5) – 𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓽’𝓼 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼, 𝓫𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓼, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓮𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓰𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓕𝓪𝔀𝓴𝓮𝓼.
𝓢𝔂𝓶𝓫𝓸𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓸𝓷 – 𝓕𝓪𝔀𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷 𝓲𝓬𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓷 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓼 (𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓸, 𝓥 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓥𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓪 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓴).
𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 "𝓖𝓾𝔂" – 𝓞𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓷 𝓮𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓰𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓕𝓪𝔀𝓴𝓮𝓼 — 𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓼 𝓪 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷, 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓰𝓾𝔂.

Reducio

Guy Fawkes (1570–1606) – English Catholic who wanted to overthrow Protestant rule.

Gunpowder Plot (1605) – A failed plan to blow up King James I and Parliament to restore a Catholic monarch.

Fawkes’ Role – He guarded 36 barrels of gunpowder hidden beneath the House of Lords.

Capture – Caught on November 4th, just hours before detonation, with fuses and matches in hand.

Tortured & Executed – Gave up his co-conspirators under torture; died by breaking his neck before full execution.

Bonfire Night (Nov 5) – Celebrates the plot’s failure with fireworks, bonfires, and burning effigies of Fawkes.

Symbol of Rebellion – Fawkes became an icon of resistance in modern times (hello, V for Vendetta mask).

The Word "Guy" – Originally meant an effigy of Fawkes — now means a person, like some random guy.

Graci ripped out the page, "I can't really focus right now, so I made an information page about Guy Fawkes."

She just went back to doodling, notably not touching her stupid transfiguration assignment, she preferred to struggle in private. His offer for help was nice, but turning something into what it should never had been was just weird to her.

Mikey's eyebrows raised in a way that said, Whoa, as he looked down at the page Graci had given him. The facts felt more like an artwork than a collection of notes as he brushed his thumb over the neat lines of text and the swirling handwriting. He was quite impressed and remarked, "This is amazing." "To be honest, I would simply slap this on some poster board and call it a day if we had to give a presentation."

"You know, I get it," he said, looking up at her. Transfiguration is strange. Like, the entire concept of transforming one thing into another. Using science and magic but it still seems like it's cheating reality, don't you think?" The little lull between them was filled with the sound of his tapping fingers on the desk. Then, following a pause, a glimmer of sincere interest appeared. "Hey, do you believe Fawkes ever thought he was deceiving reality? Like, I'm doing this because I have to, even though it's too big and crazy." His eyes strayed to the paper, then back to her. "I'm not sure. It might be a stretch." He smiled and shrugged a little. "I apologize sometimes I tend to overthink things."

Leaning back in his chair, he held up the page as though it were a prize. In any case, I will be able to avoid spending at least two hours looking through the textbook thanks to this. Graci, I owe you one. Hugely. He smiled at her appreciatively. "You should definitely keep making these," he added, lightly tapping the paper. Like, really. History buffs will love this. He looked back at her for a moment and seemed to consider saying something else, and then gave a slight nod before returning to his own disorganized notes. The silence between them no longer felt odd. And Mikey felt more comfortable.

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Graci was intrigued by his thoughts on 'what if Fawkes thought he was deceiving reality'.

"I mean, I'm sure he felt a bit overwhelmed, most likely scared out of his wits. I know if I was in his position I would be horrified. But oh so very hopeful. I wish to do something big like that someday. I mean, not die because of it, obviously, but something that won't be forgotten. That's probably my fatal flaw, I want to be remembered."

Graci didn't know why she was telling all of this to a virtual stranger, but it was one of the conversations she had here that actually had substance. Not just external chatter.

She never really had deep conversations with people other than her family. The opportunity never came. It was unfortunate, really. Graci has a lot of deep thoughts but never someone to discuss with. She didn't talk to Zoe anymore, she could hardly even find her anymore. You can't very well keep a substantial conversation going over letters. She didn't have a bunch of really good friends here.

What a sad thought. I really should've brought more books. Or stayed in better touch with Zoe. Guess it just isn't the cards we were dealt.

She was doodling on a page, in a similar way she usually did. It was familiar to her, swirls and triangles, shapes fitting together to make a picture that looked like the outlines of a colouring page.

Reducio

Mikey sat quietly for moment, Graci’s words still hanging between them. He let his quill stop spinning and rested it against his parchment. That last thing she said “I want to be remembered” felt like it cracked something open in him. Not in a bad way. More like it made room for a feeling he hadn’t let himself look at too closely. He looked over at her. She was doodling again, head bent and hand moving along with what looked like a practiced cadence. The loops spilling off of her pen were not purposeful so much as concept. As though they were meaningful even if you couldn't decipher them.

"I feel like wanting to be remembered's a lot more common than some people want to acknowledge." He shifted in his seat as if the words were so out of place that he had to rearrange himself to support them. "My dad says some people don't actually desire fame or statues. They just want not to be forgotten. Like, they want to know that their lives counted for something. That they weren’t just someone who came and went and disappeared into the background." He had stopped speaking, but not in sadness. More in quiet contemplation. Before starting up again.

"I don't see myself doing anything all that monumental" Mikey continued, "but I hope the people who remember are the people who were important to me. Even if it is, a few friends you know." He chuckled, then smiled. " That was much deeper than I anticipated. I promise I’m not usually this introspective." He moved forward again, indicating her doodle page with the tip of his quill. "This is great, by the way. Like. I have no idea what it is or anything, but it gets me in the mindset like I'm seeing someone's thoughts outside themselves. Is it an art style?"

He lowered his gaze to his notes once more, cleared his throat. "In any event, I should get on with faking that I know the difference between Muggle political unrest and wizarding manipulation." But the smile was still lingering at the corner of his mouth like a bookmark in an extremely captivating chapter.

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Graci contemplated what he said, feeling bigger emotions about a rather simple topic than she supposed an eleven year old should.

"Just because a lot of people feel it doesn't mean that we don't feel as though we shouldn't feel that way... . If that makes any sense at all."

Graci knew that most of her talking was gibberish, that it would never make sense out loud no matter how she tried to piece it together in her head. It happened like that a lot. Her brain and mouth too disconnected from each other. Or people just don't know you well enough. Maybe you don't know yourself well enough.

She shook her head, wondering why her brain started to be so...

"I think your dad is right. It's... scary, the thought of being forgotten. Like... what if I never was enough to be what I want to be. What if the spite was all for nothing? Sheesh, I was not expecting that to come out of my mouth, forgive me." She but a hand to her mouth, as though she could stop herself from sprouting off more nonsense.

"And, I mean, if it's not an art style it totally could be. Or use it as inspiration for art. And History does get rather tedious if you aren't into it. Though, I could give you a run down on Muggle political unrest and wizarding manipulation, but it might not be all too helpful."

She really did wonder when she started having such grand thoughts. Ones of remembrance and change. When did she start wanting for more?