A Fated Reunion pv Finished

As a sea of green begun to fill up with the anxious jitters of incoming first years, Archer himself fought to press down the butterflies still churning in his stomach. Having been thrust into an wholly unknown world brimming with unfamiliar oddities meant to be his peers, all semblance of the tranquility he craved had been lost in the rowdiness of the Great Hall. While food never disappointed with its comforting aromas, no rotisserie chicken could compare to two soggy sandwiches shared on a slanted tiled roof looking upon the night sky. How could a room so warmly adorned with candlelight feel so utterly cold to his heart?

Yet then, a hint of familiarity in this strange strange place, two words he could have lost to the crowd if he had not anticipated it. Winfield, Charlotte, a girl with a name that had landed her on the bottom of the roster. Winfield, Charlotte, a girl who he could barely claim he knew. Winfield, Charlotte, a girl whose memory he still clung onto at their delightful potential of a "kindred spirit". Their first interaction had been short lived and a true fruit of serendipity, the disorienting Scottish mountains having brought together a pair of though young, bright minds. Fate, in all her shining splendour had left their storylines intertwined in the beginning of a friendship. So Archer had never thought he would be as glad when the house of the cunning welcomed her into their ranks, for at least she was another anchor to his beloved Isle of Skye.

The Duncan heir was grateful, that despite his title, his parents never pushed him beyond his safety net of solidarity solely for means of networking. While he had little interpersonal relationships, each had been made with a delicate understanding for each other much beyond the most simple exchange of pleasantries. Yet rising to even his own surprise, Archer pushed back his chair and hastily gathered his satchel with a handful of strained apologies. Reaching her seat, he flashed her a quick though hesitant smile. With a gesture inquiring on whether the space across to her was occupied, Archer would sit down at Charlotte's affirmation. Now properly sat down, he blinked in adjustment to Charlotte, now on the brinks of adolescence with sharper facial features and a finely curled fringe. Despite everything, there was no denial she was the same young lady he had met that fateful morning.

'Archer Theodore Duncan,' he said, sticking across a hand, then with a grin tugging at his lips, 'I believe we have met before.'

@Charlotte Winfield

Backdated to the 2023-2024 sorting ceremony

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Though the hardest part was over, Lottie still felt the gentle shiver of tension running down her spine in feverish bursts, and she had to make a conscious effort to still her running mind. Under the blanket of gentle heat that the candles above provided, as well as the warmth of so many bodies crammed into one room, Lottie couldn't shake the cold sensation that laid deep in her gut like a metal weight.

Somewhere, though, even in the swarm of chatter and sea of unfamiliar faces, an inkling of warmth was stored safely away in a face she had been silently waiting to see again for quite a while. Her childhood had been an ugly mix of isolation and nameless individuals who she felt no connection to, but that only made the few bonds built in her youth even stronger. When not tied to the confines of her family, she felt a sense of freedom so overwhelming it was suffocating her.

Images of fuzzy flowers and tall grass ran through her mind like little shocks from the past, and only when she saw the face responsible for the memories right across from her did they all come into clarity. For a moment, she felt as if she was dreaming, but after a quick beat she blinked back into reality and gave a surprised grin so abrupt and childlike her mother would be pulling at her hair.

"I believe you might be right," Lottie replied, her tone giddy with joy. She pulled her hand from her lap and shook his hand excitedly. "I knew you would be here, but I suppose I never thought..." She trailed off, giving a disbelieving huff of laughter and easing into her seat. The thick layer of tension that had seemed to be holding her in place slowly melted away, and she felt as the anxiety rushing through her finally turned to excitement. "Slytherin, then?"

@Archer Duncan

A wave of nostalgia flooded over Archer at Charlotte’s handshake. He had deemed himself too juvenile to experience such an emotion, yet Charlotte’s fingers still curled across his the same they had years before, when they had first introduced themselves to each other. There were scenes of just-grown grass swaying in the crisp wind and the distant sun on the horizon. Memories of a small blue flower were particularly prominent in his mind.

Silver white winters that melt into spring. If the last few ours had been a desolate winter, it seemed as if Archer’s ray of spring sunshine had come. Her words were laced with a giddy glee, her smile was one that begged to be returned. It was a smile on the same girl he had returned when their expedition came to an end, expect today, there would be no bittersweetness. Charlotte, almost a stranger, yet all the same time a kindred spirit, was becoming Archer’s anchor to the world he knew. A blanket of comfort, much warmer than any grand meal the house elves could conjure up, had been draped across his shoulders. Like her, he had known that their paths would cross one day again, yet the certainty of companionship still came as a pleasant surprise.

'Slytherin,' he confirmed once he finally knew how to speak again, smiling nervously in a desperate attempt not to project his distaste for the house onto Miss Winfield, lest her believe their meeting was no source of excitement for the Scot. The very opposite, Charlotte's presence was an illuminating moon on this dreary first night. 'The one house I thought I could not have ended up in,' he mused. 'Fate works in mysterious ways, doesn't it?' The question was more polite than rhetorical, for if he was to answer it, we would simply draw the conclusion that he was not in Fate's good books.

@Charlotte Winfield

Backdated to the 2023-2024 sorting ceremony

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It had been a long time since Lottie had been overwhelmed with so much hope and joy, but here it came to her as easily as breathing. Having spent the past few weeks holding her breath and waiting for the final branch to snap in the Winfield household, the ease that now emanated from her was something of a miracle. She imagined this was how it felt for a prayer to be answered, astonishing and satisfying.

At his remark, Lottie had to laugh. "Fate." She considered this with a mix of humor and fondness. Fate had seemed an impossible thing to her, especially as of late, but this one encounter had momentarily knocked her mind off of its feet. If fate did exist, then perhaps this was its one gift to her, a stray act of mercy. "Mysterious is one word for it."

Of course, there was also the feeling of deep curiosity that brewed within Lottie. Having spent so many months away, she imagined a million different things could have happened to him since the last time they spoke. She wanted to know every last detail. He even looked a bit older, though that may as well have been an illusion created by so much time spent apart. Lottie wondered how she appeared through his eyes, if he saw the fresh, anxious creases in her skin or the new dots that had started speckling her cheeks and jawline.

"It's funny, but it feels as though I haven't seen you in years," Lottie said, smiling sheepishly, "I'm sure lots has gone on in the months since we first met."

@Archer Duncan

So surreal it was, seeing the Winfield girl who had only proceeded to live in his mind in the flesh. Joining in with her familiar laugh at his qualms with the fickle creature known as fate, she was this dinner as much a dear friend as that day free, wild, and ultimately faraway on the Scottish mountains. She was the girl he gave a blue... what flower had it been? How cruel that his memory had never failed him for a potions recipe but decided to blanch at the recollections he treasured. “Remember the road is long and often requires quite a bit of tricky manuevouring, but the Fates would never be so cruel to only allow us to meet this once,” he had said, so full of hope and faith. Had it really been months? Had it really only been months?

But, their first hello had passed, and their second when came. He would not use the time to dawdle or reminisce when the object of his remembrances was stood in front of Archer. “I…” Only managing one word before trailing off, Archer found a sour taste in the words pushing at his tongue. “How long ago has it been when we first met?” Having grown up isolated from the routine of urban life, time-keeping had never been the Scot’s forte, but doubtlessly he knew his memory was muddled more than the mere passing of time. “Definitely though, lots have gone since we met. Doubtlessly, I have been blessed with adventures and opportunities... and a certain excitement for the new year I have only just embraced.”

@Charlotte Winfield

Backdated to the 2023-2024 sorting ceremony

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Lottie picked absently at her robes, a careless gesture she would rarely let slip in a public setting. Her mother would have pinched Lottie’s fingers for being so vulnerable, but her mother was not here. What a strange, oddly harrowing thought that was to Lottie. She shoved it away, instead redirecting her attention on the warming words of her old friend. A thoughtful frown eased onto her face as she considered his words.

“Well I suppose I’m not entirely sure now,” Being that each day seemed like a copy of the last when confined to the simplicity of the Winfield household, time was a far-off, logical concept that rarely held much value in the girl’s life. That is, until her sister left. Since then, she had been counting down the days like a timekeeper. “It seems like everything has been out of order lately. It must be the change in schedule.”

Lottie tried to imagine Archer’s life away from her sight, living in the mountains among wildlife and flowers. It was like a familiar dream to Lottie, a distant, intangible memory. She wondered if there was a school for him to attend back home, or if he too had been learning from within his home. She felt slightly envious of the students who had a prior opportunity to experience school-life before coming to school, only because she wished so desperately that this wasn’t so foreign.

”I’m trying so hard to stay positive, but goodness, it’s all so unfamiliar. No matter how many times I’ve read about this place I could never have visualized it like this,” Lottie motioned to the extravagance of the Great Hall, floating candles and talking portraits and talking hats and talking dead. “It will certainly be a bit easier with a friend.”

@Archer Duncan

"I do not think it particularly matters anyway," Archer reassured with a small, gentle smile as he saw her anxious fiddling - still the Charlotte he knew then, he should never have doubted that. Despite his time spent poring over every word of history he could get his hands on, thanks to the influence of his Mother, spontaneous as she was with her adventures, he had learnt the "here and now" as she referred to it, outweighed any past regret future concern. Perhaps saddened by the sudden end their exploration had came to, he should more so be glad for their fateful meeting. "Let us live in the present, shall we? With such company I am certain there is no need to reminisce."

Glancing across the grandeur of the school with hesitancy in his gaze, Archer returned his attention to Lottie as the realisation finally settled into him: this was Hogwarts, and a new, non-revocable era of life, whether he would accept it with open arms or choose to slink back into the shadows just for a while longer.

"I suppose we ought to discuss academia now that we are students at Hogwarts. Frankly I have never went to a proper school but perhaps you could answer which lesson you are most looking forward to come tomorrow?" Before Archer had arrived at Hogwarts no one had dictated his lessons, for they were barely lessons. His teachers were his parents, his textbook was any piece that caught his fancy, his subject was the open world. Having always carried a welling passion for learning, amongst all his nervous excitement, he feared the fear of such an unfamiliar environment would go to dampen the fire hungry for knowledge burning so fiercely.

@Charlotte Winfield

Backdated to the 2023-2024 sorting ceremony

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Time passed effortlessly as Lottie continued on with Archer, her mood lightening dramatically from the interaction. She finally dragged her hands away from her lap and folded them in front of her. "That seems wise." Of course, that in this instance was Archer, and wise was pretty much every word that came out of his mouth. Lottie would admit that she was constantly dumfounded by how complex Archer could make the world in such simple words.

Lottie had mostly tuned out the droning sound of the notably extravagant and somewhat blunt talking hat at the front of the room, but she imagined that they were getting closer and closer to the end of the ceremony and the beginning of the night. Sleep didn't sound too bad right about then. Of course, that would mean putting a pin in the duo's re-introduction, an idea that felt unbearable to the impatient Winfield girl.

"Academia." Lottie tested the word on her tongue, smiling a bit to herself. It seemed so prestigious and fulfilling and right. She hadn't been spared the hopes and dreams of her family, those being the perfect sense of togetherness that came with like-mindedness. "I suppose charms is the obvious one. Although, I must say, I haven't been able to shake the idea of flying class. I mean, flying. Can you imagine it?"

Lottie certainly could. Though she hated to admit it, mostly because of how juvenile flight seemed in comparison to the much more sophisticated magical pursuits, the idea of being in mid-air, free from the confines of the earth and able to travel anywhere at unimaginable speeds had captivated her. Although the sport of Quidditch left an uneasy feeling in her gut, centered entirely around the violence it functioned off of.

@Archer Duncan

“I wish,” Archer said wistfully. Despite having grown up climbing mountains with his mother among the clouds, the notion of being so ungrounded from the familiar earth scared him. He smiled bittersweetly, for he still remembered a time when his younger self yearned for flight. How sublime, to see all the lands and oceans in all their splendour from above, as if he was a free, uncaged bird. “How magnificent it would be to be a bird. My mother is a falcon Animagus but I could never imagine. I seem to have developed acrophobia.” But it was not the height that drawn him away from the sport; rather he, despite past romanticisations, now feared the thought of drifting away in the wind. He supposed with his preferences also progressed his rationality. Once the poet like his father, now he found the most solace in logical and calculations like the coordinates of his mother.

Swallowing down the strangest feeling, he continued, “I too am excited for Charms. Or while some may consider a dull choice, History of Magic. Or Astronomy, stars and constellations have always been such a fascination for me. I heard there’s an astronomy internship programme, which I would like to try applying for. Genuinely though, any academic subject interests me and I would be eager to try something new, like Potions.” Archer stopped and flashed Charlotte a half-smile, suddenly self conscious that he might be rambling. Another sign of maturity - if it could be truly called that - since they last met was his awareness of how he spoke and how long for, and if he should just keep his opinions to himself.

“So is there anything you are particularly enjoying about Hogwarts right now?”

@Charlotte Winfield