Of Teas, Charms and Tricks

Mikey had just been strolling through the courtyard. He had no particular reason. Just killing time and hoping to find something interesting. So far, his luck seemed to have left him for the day. All of the sudden he was hit by a smell, so light and floral, with a warm, non-Hogwarts spice to it. And there, hidden away like a painting turned animate, was a girl with dark brown hair and light blue eyes.


He stepped back. Almost turned around. But the glint of silver on the teapot, the fabric on the bench in stone, the practiced movement of her wand. it was all too captivating to pass by. He paused, then moved forward, clearing his throat quietly so that he wouldn't startle her. "Er—sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't mean to intrude, I just… couldn't help but notice that you've got hot tea."

He smiled a little, not sure if he was being cool merely sounding like an idiot. "Most people head down to the common room when the weather is like this. But I suppose this is a little nicer if you can be comfortable with the clouds and slight dreariness of it." He looked at the teapot and went on, "Smells like Earl Grey? You have very good taste. I mean. Not that I'm any kind of authority." Now he knew he was being awkward. Differently not cool, at least he tried.

"I'm Mikey, Ravenclaw. First year." He studied her more intently now, her pride, the way she stood, as if her every movement was part of a ceremony. "You don't sound like someone who'd want people to hang out with. But if you don't mind… I have honey biscuits?" He patted in his coat and pulled out a small paper-wrapped package, holding it out in the manner of an olive branch. Then breathed softly, more quietly, "Not from the kitchens. Made them. Sort of." There was a pause. "I've never seen you around. What's your name?"

The rim of her favourite teacup almost touched her lips when she heard a sound from the side, startling her for a bit. If she heard that throat clearing for just several seconds earlier, the tea would have spouted from her mouth, and there goes her poise.

Eira looked up to see a boy about her age, if her observation was accurate enough. He had brown hair and blue eyes that looked friendly enough and maybe a tad curious.

He introduced himself as Mikey from Ravenclaw and, to her amazement, offered a package of honey biscuits which he made himself.

She blinked for a second or two before she gave a small "Oh!" and stood up in haste. "Where are my manners- My name is Eira, Eira Cravensworth," she greeted with a curtsey. "Slytherin, but I guess you already knew that" she gave a weak laugh.

Eira gestured to the spot opposite the makeshift tea spread with a serene grin, "And I would be honored to sample your honey biscuits, they sound delightful!"

Sitting back to her previous spot, she felt her back straighten a smidge as she spelled another teacup from the bag with a Wingardium Leviosa again; her grin widening when she felt the familiar chill that emanated with every spell she cast from her wand. Her seatmates had sometimes complained about the drop in temperature from her side, but they just learned to ignore it in the end.

"I'm afraid I don't really wander off from the common room and certain areas so I reckon I would be as elusive as a demiguise," Eira said, "Hogwarts is quite large and I have yet to explore a tenth of its wonders. How have you been finding it so far? My parents have attended this school as well, and I find it amazing as they have built it to be."

Mikey stopped as she rose and curtseyed a genuine, sincere curtsey as if she'd just emerged from a very mannered painting. He blinked, half thinking he should bow back, and then regretted it immediately because now his legs ached and felt rubbery.

"Uh, cheers," he replied instead, giving a lazy half-wave, half-salute with his hand before clearing his throat a second time. "Nice to meet you, Eira. Great name."

He attempted to sound natural, but even he could detect a hint of something off in his own voice. Not nervous. Just concentrating on not sounding foolish. He didn’t want to sound like someone from a two room flat above a bakery in Liverpool crashing into someone else's very fragile and sophisticated universe.

She spelled another cup into the air with that same delicate flick and Mikey tracked the motion with his eyes, dazzled and a trifle impressed. His own charm work was satisfactory, but nothing like that. Her wand danced its movement like a ballet. His typically stumbled as if it was apologizing for its lateness.

He laid the biscuits out and placed them tidily on the linen between them, their golden edges a little irregular from his experiment with baking. "They're not, like, fancy tea party type things or anything," he said in a rush, indicating them. "Just something I've kind of, sort of figured out over the years. Mostly by setting things on fire. And then learning to not set things on fire." He laughed

"I've been, uh… getting to know Hogwarts kind of like a house with more staircases and not many clues. It's amazing, though. Don't get me wrong. More than any school I ever imagined going to. It's just." He trailed off and looked around the courtyard before returning his attention to her. "Takes a little bit to figure out where you fit in, you know?"

His fingers played at the edge of the linen. "Sometimes it is as though everybody else just has an instinctive knowledge of all the unspoken rules. As though they went to school with talking portraits and teapots that filled themselves up. I was raised in a two-room flat over a bakery. The closest we came to magic was when the bread did not burn." He smiled. "So I suppose I still get weirded out when someone does a spell and doesn't flinch like I do."

He grabbed one of the biscuits glancing over his shoulder at her with a smile. "But sitting here. tea, spells and all, this is nice. Thanks for inviting me to join you, Eira. I don't tend to find myself in situations like this. Or, with people like you."

He bit into the biscuit to close himself up and blinked. "Okay. That was bad. I just mean you do have this kind of…. " He moved his hand. "Glamorous thing happening. Like you fit into a book. I'm more of a dog eared page." He grinned at himself and held another biscuit out. "You can tell me to leave if I'm ruining the aesthetic."

Eira could swear that her eyes widened as Mikey revealed the delicious looking biscuits and laid them on the fabric. They looked beautiful despite being different from the perfectly shaped pudding Mitzy would serve at her mum's tea parties or galas.

When Mikey quickly mentioned that it's not like the treats being offered and how he feels out of place in school, Eira made a hum of agreement before she curiously took one for herself.

The biscuit was amazing. It felt like being back home. Each bite gave her nostalgic warmth of being back in the manor with her parents, Mitzy, and Circe. Amazing, it was simply amazing.

And here she was, unable to bake a simple scone without making it as inedible as a concrete slab.

The Slytherin patted her lips with a serviette, careful not to drop any crumbs to the front of her robes and pondered on his words.

"I can understand it. I have been around magic ever since I was born and still feel that I have so much more to prove. And," she gave him an empathic grin, "Please don't feel like you don't belong with the present imagery, I daresay I feel like I'm the one who is out of place in this school."

Tipping her cup, she took several sips and gave a slight sigh, "After all, what normal eleven year old would curtsey and give their full name to their classmates? Granted, it was how I was taught by my etiquettes tutor to greet my peers but I was told it made me look unapproachable."

There were several beats of silence before Mikey's words grabbed Eira's attention yet again; talking portraits, refillable containers, a bread not being burned- "Oh... ! Did you come from a non-magical household?"

The gasp and sudden twist to face her companion was a whiplash but she felt the excitement of someone who is not from a magical environment made her heart thump quickly.

"To bake biscuits with this quality and not even using magic- you are amazing! You must tell me how one bakes biscuits without using a bewitched oven and Incendio!"

If she would remember this moment, she was sure her cheeks would be on flames with her sudden drop of decorum but current Eira would think none of it.

Mikey's eyes widened at the way Eira came alive. From serene complacency to engaged curiosity. He was shocked in the best way. There was something about the manner in which she became so deeply invested that she felt like a stranger and filled her with that of an old friend.

He grinned. "I'm a Muggle born, I think that's what they say." He said. "I found out about magic last year. Getting angry at math homework and if I had lost my football, and then getting this letter telling me I was a wizard." He gazed down at his shoes. "I actually thought at first it was a joke. My dad almost put the envelope in the bin."

He sat back, biscuit briefly forgotten. "But it's all different now. First time on a train to a magic school. First time with ghosts that answer. First time realizing staircases don't always go where you're going. And now I'm having a chat with someone who can levitate teacups like it's no big deal."

He turned his head and looked at her. "And that curtsey? It was kind of genius. Like stepping into another world. I didn't even know people still did that kind of thing. I mean, that in an overwhelmingly good way." He caught himself and wondered if he was being rude.

Then her compliment of the biscuits hit him and he almost choked with laughter. "Right, to begin with, I burn half of whatever I try to bake. The biscuits are miracle survivors. And secondly, I didn't realize ovens could be spelled until, like, three months ago." He rubbed the back of his head once again. "Our oven home is this ancient gas thingy with a busted knob. You've got to kick it in exactly the right spot or it won't ignite."

He glanced back at her. "Tell you what I'll put the recipe down next time we make them so you can do it Muggle fashion. And if all goes completely catastrophically wrong, just Incendio it and pretend it was on purpose that you set it all ablaze." Mikey raised his teacup and held it aloft in a kind of careless toast. "To new things, odd beginnings, and surprise tea parties."

Mikey's words first sounded like Gobbledygook but some like 'maths' and 'football' were familiar, it was the same words her friend she met from Diagon Alley had used when trying to compare it with Quidditch and from what she concluded, it has the same type of rage in the Muggle world.

Well, football is. Maths is just Arithmetics with a broader coverage and field that wizardfolk would have no use with- at least, that's what her mother had said when Eira excitedly chattered about the new friend she gained while her mum was out shopping at the apothecary.

She could feel her cheeks warmed when he had mentioned about her curtsey. It was far from perfect but she thought it was a good execution, something Ms. Roscov would be proud of.

But in any case, she took one of the biscuits and, despite how Mikey mentioned that it was from a lucky batch, she can't help but feel even more impressed, especially when he offered to give her the recipe so she can bake it herself (definitely not letting him know that she managed to burn a hole on her cauldron while trying to brew an antidote for common poisons).

Eira looked at the perfectly imperfect baked good and gave a sincere grin, "Well for what is worth, it's still amazing that you're able to create something wonderful without the help of magic."

Taking a bite, she hid a giggle when he had mentioned that she can just easily cast an Incendio should she fail a batch, now that's an idea.

She happily raised her cup and gently pushed her cup to Mikey's and giggled, "To new friends and hopefully edible biscuits in the future!"

As she drank her tea, she hummed as she studied the Ravenclaw with discerning eyes before she nodded and muttered, "Ah, definitely a white gladiolus would be the best fit."

Apologies for the delayed reply >_< uni was a hassle but it's all good now!

Mikey stopped, mid-sip, his eyes squinting at Eira over the rim of his teacup. "A what now?" he asked, his forehead furrowed in a manner that implied he was trying to recall whether that was a forgotten spell or a magical being he had yet to encounter. "A white… gladiolus?"

He said it out loud, slowly, rotating the word in his mouth like it would become more actual if he provided it with sufficient syllables. "Is that, uh, a flower? Or… a sort of wand wood?" He leaned his head. "Or like, the birth name of some super serious wizard duelist from the 1700s who only wore white and had an amazing moustache?"

He smiled at her. "You're going to have to assist me with that one, Eira. I don't have much of a life background in, well, anything polite. I'm a 'go round with your own biscuits and hope for the best' kind of person."

He rested his head against the back of the couch, still cradling his teacup, eyes questioning now. "But if that's what you think I'd be, I'll accept it. I mean, it does sound rather royal, doesn't it? Gladiolus. Not a bad flower to be, if I am correct." He smiled once more. "What made you consider that?"

The sunlight fog streamed through the courtyard and cast its shadows in gentle patterns on the wind. It was pleasant. It was just two students, in every external sense out of place, huddled under the grim sky with tea and biscuits and a sort of understanding beginning to form.

He raised his cup again. “To white gladioluses. Or gladioli? Whatever the plural is. I’ll look it up later.” Then he asked “What house were your parents in?”