Back to Basics PV Fin.

Althea could not recall the last time she had gotten angry. During her hiatus, she had cried, grieved, and been wrought with a cyclone of emotions that tore its way through her and left scars that only deepened with every touch, but anger? It had been gone. She had been thankful to have lost it, that fire that had tormented her and wrenched her spirit dry, and gladly left it behind at Hogwarts when she was torn away from that environment.

That anger that had tucked itself away so neatly and denied her its drive for years, Althea felt it burst out from its exile as she faced Dealla, who had not only insisted on obstructing her, but with that smug, nonchalant, indifferent gaze. The Hufflepuff had known that Dealla had the tendency or at the very least the ability to speak with such cruelty and jagged sharpness in her tone. Of course she did, she had front-row seats to it barely two weeks ago. Yet, she had thought whatever that they had established that day by the lake would have spared her from the worst of it. Yet, stinging words sliced into Althea without reprise, each remark stirring and digging the dagger deeper into whatever was left of her tattered pride. “Coward” dug deep, her jaw aching as she held back the retorts that withered on her tongue with a bitter taste. She could not deny it. She knew well about the truth of her hiatus, stretched to its limits by her own hands. The hours she had spent staring at that page, the hours of it in her first attempt at her fourth year and the week-long anxious scanning just last week – Althea hated that she could not deny it, her spiking temper burning in her from within.

Althea yanked her robes closer to wrap around herself with gritted teeth, tearing her gaze from Dealla’s slowly curling lips. What was there to laugh at? She began, “This was a mistake, I should’ve known this was hopeless–” but evidently, Dealla was not done. A vicious sharpness had slipped into the Ravenclaw’s smile, and before Althea could make a bid to escape, she was bombarded.

Althea’s throat caved into itself, as Dealla dug deeper into the scars that she had foolishly exposed in her blind frustration. Hackles raised and body stiff with the tension of a cornered prey, the phrase she despised slammed into her. “Try.” Try? Try? Althea’s guarded scowl warped into one of bitter fury. What the hell would this perfect and accomplished witch know of the gruelling state of turmoil and struggle she had been in for a bloody decade? About how the birthright gifted by her parents - her mother’s first and last gift to her - to thrive in the world they loved had been wasted on a broken vessel like her?

Althea raised her wand instinctively, her vulnerability crushing her fear, “Don’t you dare”, but the other didn’t stop. The dagger was lifted and ruthlessly struck–

“Your parents”. Her lungs crushed under her violent halt of breath. Her father laying limp on the hospital cot, entangled in layers of brown-stained gauze without a single recognisable feature in sight flashed in her mind– Her shaking, tiny hands cradling the splintered remains of her mother’s aspen wand–

Althea stalked closer, snarling, “You keep my parents OUT of your mouth!”

Crazed eyes latched onto the vivid image of that textbook. She was not a coward. Her parents didn’t make a mistake, she was not a MISTAKE–

Frantic hands sliced an arch into the air.

“ACCIO!”

A sharp whizzing snapped her out of stupor. She turned, only to feel a claw of iron hot friction grazing her cheek. Instinct yanked Dealla away with her hand. In a split second, the textbook slammed into the wall with a thunderous smack, clattering to the ground.

@Dealla Prince

If Dee had been just a bit nicer of a person, she probably would have felt bad about the things she was saying, to someone she'd consider a friend. Would have wondered if it was worth it, every verbal slap and push, each of them striking with the same precision with which Dee cast her spells. Even scarier, perhaps, was the ease with which she delivered it, digging into every weak spot that she knew existed. Althea's hiatus from the school. The time she'd missed. The presumed absence of her parents, a topic she'd deflected down at the lake, a few weeks ago. All of them turned into just the fuel she needed.

She could watch Althea's physical reactions to the comments, robes pulled closer as if to protect herself, a grimace, a flinch, and Althea's staple: Avoidance. The Hufflepuff looked away, started making excuses; tried to pull away, likely preparing to run. Dee wouldn't have it. Althea's fight instinct would trigger when she realised there was no where to flee. And thus, she went for the throat.

The "Don't you dare" was cut off before it was finished, and a wand came up, with unclear intent - was it to defend or attack? Either way, a good sign. There were some magical instincts still ingrained in Althea. Dealla subtly shifted her own position in response, ready to dodge if necessary... but it wasn't. Maybe Althea didn't have it in her to actually attack, even someone who'd liberally showered her in cruelty. Dee wouldn't complain; Althea didn't need to be a duellist. She just had to realise that she was, in fact, a witch. That she had magic, and the only thing that kept her from using it was herself. Even after years of being told otherwise.

The spell that came out instead was the one she'd been insisting she couldn't do. Didn't know how to, needed the instructions of the book to master, even if they hadn't helped before. Still, she seemed to cling to that book - because that was what she summoned. This time, the spell worked. Dee could see it, could feel it, even before she saw its effects.

Dee was in the process of turning around to look for the book, a grin spreading on her face, both proud and insufferably smug, when she was yanked backwards by her robes, out of the book's trajectory as it crossed the classroom just to once again slam into the opposite wall. Dee almost stumbled in surprise, only barely catching herself on the edge of a desk. Even after all this, Althea's instinct had been to protect her. She truly was the better person here.

"Bloody hell," Dee said, dazed. "So you're an all-or-nothing kind of caster, huh? Full speed or killing the engine, no in between?" She pushed herself back up into an upright position, pushing herself up to inspect the book on the ground, a few tables away, before turning back to Althea, a smile once again spreading across her face and setting her eyes alight. "Hate to say I told you so, but..."

@Althea Valeden

It has been more than half a decade; More than half a decade in which Althea felt that her flesh, her mind and soul, never co-existed and intertwined with the magic that dwelled in her blood, in the harmony it seemed to do with her other magical peers of all blood statuses. It was as if her magic were an evasive resident in a body that provided no incentive to rouse it. It was always foreign, felt like a stranger in her body, feeling like a force that never responded in kind– but now? There was magic, her magic, a magic that felt like hers.

A hand subconsciously reached up to brush against the lingering sting on her cheek. That small patch of skin felt hot, tingling from where it got scraped by the book that shot across the classroom. Althea’s widened eyes were fixed on that book in front of her on the floor at the opposite wall from where it had landed initially from Dealla's Depulso. Her body felt loose, free like it hasn't been since she was a child, as if thrumming with energy. It felt… nice. More than nice, in fact.

Althea jolted back to awareness at Dealla's dazed voice, turning to face the Ravenclaw who barely caught herself on a nearby desk. She gasped, “Oh, oh my gosh. Sorry, I didn't mean it! Are you okay?” She felt even more mortified when Dealla mentioned her casting having “no in-between”, realising she had lost her temper earlier like a child, over some words! She almost injured someone from that reckless casting, how could she do that–

The Hufflepuff paused. Oh, she did that. Althea glanced at Dealla as the other girl pushed herself up with the most smug smile she has ever seen. Her breath hitched at the Ravenclaw's next words. She never knew how much she wanted to hear that phrase, hear the words “I told you so” leaving the mouth of people who try to encourage her, only to leave disappointed and speechless, until now.

An incredulous laugh left her, then another. Althea reached out and put her free hand on Dealla's arm where the other girl held the desk. “You're magic,” She blurted out, flushing at her own strange wording, “I mean, I'm magical too, but–” The Hufflepuff ran her thumb across the pattern of her wand in her hand, still struck with disbelief. She smiled, a genuine smile that curved her lips upwards and made her cheeks hurt.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

@Dealla Prince

While Althea stared at the book, the one she'd yanked back across the room with all the desperation she'd kept bottled in her chest, Dee watched her. The dazed incredulity on her face, eyes wide, the hand that came up to touch the streak of red on her cheek where the book must have raked across the skin.

Yet after all that, the first words that spilled from Althea were concern whether her spell had hurt Dee. Dee, who had seen magic do truly atrocious things, who had been cut, set on fire, knocked into walls and off brooms, put into a magical coma, and spent more time in the infirmary than any sane person should. Who had learned, along the way, that the true wounds, the ones that couldn't be healed by spell or potion, the ones that stayed with you, bleeding and scarring, for years, were the emotional ones. What was a book thrown at her head, when the result meant Althea had a chance to heal from her wounds? Dealla blinked at the question, surprised, then burst out laughing, right into Althea's blushing face. "I'm fine," she replied, giggling. "You're way too nice for your own good, you know that?"

When Althea reached for her arm, Dee turned her hand to wrap her fingers around the Hufflepuff's in response. "I am pretty magical," she agreed, and there was no hiding the self-satisfaction in her words, in her smile. It had worked, after all; Dee had known Althea could do this, and she'd been right. Much more importantly, however, was that Althea realised that she was magical, too. Dee's expression melted into something softer, fonder, and she raised an eyebrow at her new friend. "Always happy to help. Now, will you believe me when I tell you that you can cast Depulso, too?"

@Althea Valeden