Beneath the Beauty || The Making of a Spell

Cast and Crew of An Unorthodox Language:
The Stars (in order of appearance)
- Abella Marie; fourth year, soon-to-be Ami Procoppio’s mother
- Evelyn Crestwood; fourth year, soon-to-be Eri Windstone’s aunt
- Kensington Birmingham; fourth year
- Jeremey Jemiah; professor of Charms, soon-to-be Azkaban prisoner
- Nameless Slytherin; first year
The Mentioned (in order of appearance)
- Adebard Bezuidenhout; fourth year, soon-to-be Aurelia Bezuidenhout’s father
- Thellea Schütte; fourth year, soon-to-be Aurelia Bezuidenhout’s mother
The Crew
- Ami Procoppio (author)
- Eri Windstone (character-provider)
- Aurelia Bezuidenhout (character-provider)
- Dymphna Teague (tech support)
- Anatole Evans (inspiration and [unwilling] moral support)

Time Stamp: October 31, 1999

“Ev!”

Abella’s sweet, lilting voice rang out across the Entrance Hall, echoing only slightly, and the light pitter-patter of her footsteps fell against the floor, resounding against the stone walls of the castle. Abella Marie was the perfect example of what a witch should be, and her happy smile and lilting laugh reflected just that. The blonde fourth year ran up to her best friend, Evelyn Crestwood, who had the same crystal blue eyes as Abella. With a mischievous smirk, Abella’s voice dropped down into a whisper, and she hissed, “Guess what, guess what, guess what?” Her excitement was evident in the eagerness lining her face, in the glint in her eyes.

But by now, Evelyn was used to the Slytherin’s crazy antics, and she only rolled her eyes in response. It was probably nothing, again- last time, it had been a kitten, and the time before that, a lost shoe. It could be anything, and right now, Evelyn wasn’t exactly in the mood for another “adventure”. There were far more important things on her mind, like the extra credit for Transfiguration… “Yes…?” she said slowly with an exaggerated sigh, turning around an arcing a perfect eyebrow at Abella’s eager expression. “What is it? Have you lost something, again?”

Abella’s expression didn’t waver, not even for a moment. “No, no, not that. Look what I found.” She pulled out a thick, dragon-hide bound book, handing it to Evelyn. The brunette Ravenclaw’s eyes quickly scanned the Ancient Rune title, translating it with ease, and looked at Abella suspiciously. “Where did you even find this, Abella?” she said with a small frown, her eyebrows knitting together. “If you say the Restricted Section, I am going to slap you to Azkaban. What is this, the fifteenth book you’ve taken from there?” While Evelyn herself wasn’t much for the bending of the rules, she knew that Abella most certainly was, and reluctantly turned a blind eye on every one of the Slytherin’s antics, each always more outrageous than the last.

“It would’ve been the sixteenth,” Abella hastily corrected. “But- but- but that’s not the point. I didn’t get it from the Restricted Section, for once- I stole it.” At this, Abella’s eyes lit up while Evelyn groaned, smacking her forehead. Really… this girl is too much, Evelyn thought to herself with a sigh.

“You stole it?” Evelyn hissed sharply, grabbing Abella’s arm roughly extracting a small yelp of pain from the Slytherin. “Abby, what were you thinking?” Dragging the whimpering blonde after her, Evelyn marched the two of them outside to the Grounds, where they were less likely to be heard- apparently, loads of people liked to eavesdrop on the most popular girl in school’s conversations with her bookish best friend.

“It was Ken’s,” Abella whined, wrenching her arm away from Evelyn’s death-grip. “I honestly thought you’d be pleased, not miffed!” To Abella’s immense satisfaction, Evelyn’s expression morphed from disappointed annoyance to peaked interest at the mention of their worst enemy, Gryffindor snob Kensington Birmingham. “This was her’s, then?” Evelyn asked slowly, her voice now calm and smooth, like silk. Abella sighed in relief, pleased that she’d avoided a confrontation with her morally righteous best friend. “Yes- I found it in her book bag,” Abella said satisfactorily with a smirk. “How careless of her not to put a lock on it.”

“Yes, but not everyone is as paranoid as you…” Evelyn said slowly, examining the book with interest. “Say, why do you think she’d have a book like this- an academic book? I don’t exactly recall her to be the… ahem, scholarly type. What would someone like her be doing with a book on how to create spells?”

“I’m not sure,” Abella admitted, “But imagine the things we could do with this knowledge! Ev, come on- really, just think a little. Why don’t you ever use that big ol’ Ravenclaw brain of yours? Can you imagine everything we could accomplish with this?” Taking the book back into her hands, and staring into Evelyn’s eyes, she whispered excitedly, “You and me, Evelyn. Together, we could conquer the world.”

Evelyn’s expression hardened, and she stepped back from Abella. “No.”

“I beg your pardon?” Abella laughed in disbelief, staring at her best friend. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” They did everything together- how could Evelyn possibly refuse this delicious offer? Creating a spell… to Abella, that was the true thrill of magic- creating something new, something that hadn’t been done before. What could Evelyn possibly say no to?

“Do you know how dangerous and risky creating a spell is?” Evelyn frowned. There were times when Abella was completely blind to the reality of life and magic, completely unaware of the fact the spells could backfire- because for her, there never was a backfire. For her, it was like failure wasn’t a word- everything Abella tried, she was good at. At least, that was how it seemed to the rest of the world, while Evelyn knew the truth.

Abella was good because she cheated- off of Evelyn, off of the professors, off of the other students. Abella, Evelyn knew, was indeed as smart as she led others to believe- but she hadn’t earned it herself, because she was extremely lazy. Leeching off of others’ hard work, and a master at subtle eavesdropping, Abella’s petite frame was misleading to most. After all, how could such a perfectly adorable girl cheat? To be fair, if there was anyone in this school who could successfully create a spell, it would be Abella- her magical potential was through the roof, and her control over said potential was well-honed with minimal practice. But because she was so good at it, at cheating and at lying, Abella never believed in the harsh reality of consequences or hard work, whilst Evelyn was all too aware of them.

Abella’s next words proved just that- “We’ll be fine,” she assured Evelyn. “What could possibly go wrong? We can just ask a professor if we don’t understand it.” “Um, no, we can’t,” Evelyn said in exasperation. “Do you really think you’re good enough to create a spell?”

“Yes, of course,” Abella said breezily, brushing her hair off her shoulders and throwing a wink at a group of infatuated fellow-Slytherin boys standing a couple of meters away. One of them pretended to swoon, and Abella giggled while Evelyn’s eyes narrowed into slits. She recognized the swooner as Adebard Bezuidenhout, and she nudged Abella subtly, whispering, “Abella, don’t. You know he’s Thellea’s.”

“Bloody hell,” Abella mumbled, frowning prettily. “You’re right- as per usual.” Evelyn nodded knowingly, and grabbing her friend by the elbow, she steered the two of them back inside, the pair collapsing into a pair of comfy armchairs by the fire in the Small Hall.

“So you’re going to lay off the spellbook?” Evelyn prompted, leaning forward so they’d be less easily heard. Who knew what ears lay between the walls of the castle?

Abella snorted in disbelief. “Of course not. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, Evy. Besides, it’s not like Kensington’s going to miss the book- I think she was using it as a paperweight.” Casting an admonishing look at Abella, Evelyn shook her head. “If Kensington finds out… we’re all dead,” Evelyn reminded her, and Abella nodded in agreement.

“Okay, fine- fair point, and I don’t want to die before I get married. That would certainly be a waste of my fabulous body. What was that one spell again…?” Abella trailed off, snapping her fingers in an attempt to bring back the memory. With a barely imperceptible sigh, Evelyn took out her wand and muttered, “Geminio.” The book duplicated itself, and Evelyn handed the original back to Abella. “I expect you’ll have that back to her before she notices?” Evelyn reprimanded, with an arched eyebrow to boot.

“Yes, ma’am,” Abella said with a smirk, and stood up, shaking Evelyn’s hand. “I’ll see you in Charms, then?” Evelyn simply nodded, watching her friend leave, sauntering away and stopping to chat with an assortment of other students. What have I gotten myself into?

Later, in Charms

“Yoohoo! Abella!”

Looking up from her textbook, Abella frowned at the preppy Gryffindor just entering the classroom. The temperature in the room dropped about ten degrees from her icy glare, and Kensington Birmingham froze as she realized everyone’s eyes were on her- then she smirked, because that was exactly how she liked it.

“Abella, darling, I love what you’ve done with your hair, today!” Kensington chirped in an unnecessarily loud voice, sliding into the seat next to Abella. The Slytherin shot Kensington another ice-cold glare, and turned her back on her. “Really, it looks gorgeous when you leave it all… when you leave it all hanging and loose, like that, like a street rat. Really, it fits your personality quite well,” Kensington continued, and the taunt was greeted by behind-the-hand snickers from around the room.

As if she’d just noticed Abella’s turned back, Kensington continued to plead in a mocking tone, “Oh, Abby, don’t be cross! You know I was only teasing.” Leaning in closer, however, the Gryffindor barely parted her bright red, lipstick-lined lips to breathe, “And yet… you know it’s all true, don’t you?”

A low growl emitting from her throat, in a flash, Abella had shoved Kensington off her chair, and was now standing above her, glowering darkly. “A pity you don’t have my supposedly terrible looks, Ken,” she murmured, her eyes flashing dangerously, “Because I think they’d look quite nice on you. We’ll have to settle for the next best thing, then.” Kensington’s eyes widened as Abella placed the heel of her boot on her chest, winding up for a sucker punch…

But Abella’s hand was caught by Evelyn, who glared at her with a disapproving frown. “Abella… save it for later,” Evelyn whispered, fully aware of all the eyes on the two girls. Wrenching her hand away from her traitorous best friend, Abella reluctantly lifted her foot off of Kensington, smoothing out her robes and sitting back down in her chair. “Evelyn,” she said pleasantly, as if nothing had happened. “Do sit.” She patted the chair Kensington had begun to claim earlier, as if she were rubbing it in the Gryffindor’s nose that she wasn’t welcome here. “Class will start soon.”

Glancing at the placid Slytherin as Kensington huffed away, Evelyn's voice dropped to a whisper, saying, "So you returned the book successfully, then?" Abella nodded inconspicuously. "Easier than I thought it would be," she admitted with a small smile. "At least Jemiah didn't see it."

As if on cue, Professor Jemiah entered the classroom, drawing a hush from the students. “It is my understanding that today is Halloween,” the professor announced, immediately captivating his audience. Abella shot Evelyn an excited look, and Evelyn only raised an eyebrow in response, all too familiar with the Charms professor’s unusual antics. The professor continued down the long aisle between the desks, taking his sweet time to reach his own, massive oak desk at the front of the room, the enormous chalkboard looming behind it.

“While your dear Professor Binns will undoubtedly fill you in on the history of Halloween, as he does every year, I’ve decided to teach you a spell regarding this particular holiday. However, the special thing about this one is...” The professor let the dramatic silence hang, finally at his desk, before abruptly turning on his heel to face the class, his face a mask of nonchalance. “I made this spell.”

Abella shot Evelyn an excited look, eyebrows sky-high. The Ravenclaw rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the teacher. Abella shifted in her seat, leaning forward on her elbows, her eyes completely glazed over with admiration, her entire body tense and rapt. Professor Jemiah himself continued pacing around the room, before stopping at his desk and taking a small squirrel out of the metal cage perched at the edge of the oaken piece of furniture. The squirrel stared at the professor and students with disinterest and distrust, its eyes darting around the room.

“Mettan Malshonum,” the professor boomed, pointing his wand at the squirrel on his desk. The squirrel seemed to promptly wander off the desk, falling off with a particularly noisy squeak. Before it could hit the ground, however, Professor Jemiah caught it with a quiet, “Levicorpus.”

The students gaped at their Charms professor in surprise, while the professor merely smiled. “The Charm of Misfortune,” he explained. “Depending on the strength of the charm cast, it can last anywhere from five minutes to two hours, bringing misfortune and bad luck to the victim.” This resulted in a series of whispers rapidly running around the room behind hands, accompanied with side-eyes and malicious smiles.

“QUIET!” the professor bellowed, glaring at his class. Fourth years… the bane of my existence. Why do I even try? “Do you want to learn this spell or not?” he continued, once the class quieted down. His mood had now turned sour, and he continued on with the lesson reluctantly. “The Charm of Misfortune, a charm of my own creation, does not come from directly from Latin, unlike many of our spells,” the professor droned on in monotone, and consequently, the only people in the room taking notes were Abella, Evelyn, and Kensington.

“This spell is from French, modern-day French; quite the unorthodox language to choose from, if I may say so myself,” the man continued, pacing up and down the floor in front of his desk once again. “I drew inspiration from the phrase, 'Je m'attends à un malchance', French for ‘I expect bad luck’- or something like that.”

“Oh, but Professor!” To Abella’s disgust, Kensington’s words flowing out of her mouth were sickly sweet, nearly simpering, and her expression was that of an eager puppy’s. Rolling her eyes, Abella shared a look with Evelyn- one that, to her immense dislike, was not returned.

Professor Jemiah stopped his rant and stared at Kensington in mild shock, startled that someone dare interrupt his teachings. “Yes, Miss…?”  He stared at the bold Gryffindor girl with her hand raised, arching an eyebrow. Really, how could any professor remember all of these names? There were simply too many students for that to be possible- thus, Jeremey never even attempted learning his pupil's names.

“Birmingham,” Kensington finished smoothly with another blinding smile. “Kensington -like the neighborhood, yes- Birmingham." At this, Kensington preened satisfactorily, as if it were an honor to be named after a rich, London neighborhood. Professor Jemiah sighed in exasperation at this, and motioned on with his hands for her to continue.

"I had a question, isn’t French a modern-day variation of Latin? I read somewhere that French words are composed mainly of Latin roots, so wouldn’t the incantation still be Latin?” Kensington batted her eyelashes, as if that would get her a better answer. Anyone could tell her, however, that it wouldn’t.


A knock at the door interrupted the Charms professor’s answer, and Professor Jemiah glanced at the door in annoyance. “Who is it?”

A young Slytherin boy, who looked to be about a first year, poked his head into the classroom. “Is…” He looked down at the slip of paper in his hands with a frown. “Is Abella Marie here?” Evelyn and Abella shared one of those looks, while Kensington sniggered behind her hand.

“Abella?” the boy repeated, and Abella hurriedly stood up, gathering all of her things in her arms. “Here, I’m right here,” she said quickly, stepping towards the door while looking at Professor Jemiah to do so. He nodded, and after a fleeting glance at Evelyn, Abella continued after the retreating Slytherin boy.

Catching up to him, she asked, “Where are you taking me?”

“I’m about to change your life. The Headmaster wants to see you,” he said simply, and deposited Abella at the Headmaster’s office. “Good luck.”

“What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?! Hey! You! I'm talking to you! Don't you dare just leave me standing here, what am I-”

"Miss Marie. Please, stop your hollering, and do come in."