(November 1st, 1991, Hogwarts Castle, Scotland)

I woke up at noon the next day in the Hospital Wing. The bed was stiffer than those in the dorms, and the plain white sheets also left much to be desired. Once Madam Pomfrey noticed I was awake she summoned me some food and water, saying something along the lines of ‘magic exhaustion will give you plenty of appetite’. Joke's on her, I always had plenty of appetite. I did, however, take it as an invitation to eat even more than I usually did, even if just for that one lunch.

Near the end of lunch I was visited by Hermione, along with Gabby, Megan, Janet, Alice, and Eileen. ‘Hmm, I have a lot of friends,’ I thought pleasantly. My hair wasn't in its normally near constant braid, instead it was left free and a little wild, which helped project an air of tiredness. “Hi everyone,” I said, looking up from my sixth plate that Madam Pomfrey had summoned from the kitchens.

They all responded with their own greetings before bombarding me with questions. Hermione had likely told them what happened over lunch, so all of the questions were variations of ‘HOW?!’, and whatnot.

“One at a time please,” I insisted.

“Hermione said that you killed the troll?” Gabby asked first.

“Yes,”

“How?” she pressed.

“Magic,” Because, duh, obviously. That just made her groan impotency, but it got a few giggles out of the others.

“But what magic?” Alice implored.

“Plant spell and fire starting, didn't Hermione tell you what happened?” I replied.

“I did,” the girl in question confirmed.

“I meant what spells specifically,” Alice said.

“Bíobláþiá a ‘plantification’ charm, and Sukivon the fire starting charm.” I said.

“Aren't trolls supposed to be magic resistant?” Gabby interjected.

“They’re resistant, not immune. If you just hit them hard enough it'll stick.” I retorted.

“Why those spells?” Eileen asked.

“They're easy and lethal,” Janet answered before I could. She wasn't actually familiar with the spells, instead she was simply making some very accurate educated assumptions about them based on the circumstances.

There was a pause in the questions for a moment. “I'm just glad that Artemis and Hermione somehow got out unscathed.” Megan said, electing a round of affirmations from the girls assembled.

“Yeah, but I've dealt with mountain trolls before. Me mum and I have gone on hunting trips together,” I started explaining. She needed all sorts of specimens for her experiments, so she used to go hunting for them herself. Then I came into her life and that kinda marked the end of her mad science days, but she still liked to go out with me once in a blue moon. “So she had to teach me how to ash something in an emergency.” I lied. Mom never taught me to combine those spells like that, and in a real emergency I would've had far better up my sleeve than just those two spells.

“… Ash something,” Hermione said. “And she taught you this at what age exactly?” she asked, and I merely shrugged. “That sounds like an incredibly dangerous thing to teach an eleven-year-old—”

“Actually, I turned twelve on the 30th.” I corrected.

“—Child, yet alone one younger than that.” she finished.

“Oh! That reminds me,” I said, pulling a small chocolate cupcake out of seemingly nowhere. “Here,” I said, handing it to her. “I'll have some other stuff for you later, but that's just what I have on me right now.” I knew that she had just had lunch, thus likely didn't have any large cravings right then.

“Um, thank you? Why are you giving this to me?” she asked upon receiving it.

“Reasons,” I replied. Given how embarrassed she was about it last night, I figured that I shouldn't say why out loud in front of our audience.

Janet interjected. “And here I thought I was special,” she said, clearly recognising what I was doing.

“Everybody thinks that they're special. Anyways, don't you lot have Charms class in, like, three minutes?” I reminded them of our Friday schedule.

All of them except Hermione scrambled to say their goodbyes, before leaving in a rush. I gave her a raised brow and she shook her head. “I don't have any more classes today,” she told me. “I'll leave if you want, though.”

“No, stay, I… hospital beds are boring.” I responded, then moved a finger to my chin and pouted my lips. “Um, I don't really know what you would do here though… Maybe I could help you with your wand movements? And whenever that inevitably gets boring, then we can read a book together, or something.” I asked her.

She smiled slightly. “Yeah, that sounds like it would be fun.” And it was. Hermione was with me for the better part of the afternoon. She was flicking her wand in a dozen different ways as I used my keen eyes to analyse her muscles and teach her how to do the movements faster, better, and more reliably. But after an hour of that her hand started cramping, at which point I had her stop her wand waving. She was practically sprawled out on top of me as I quietly recited The Tales of Beedle the Bard to her word for word.

She didn't seem very interested in the wizarding childrens’ tales, or at least she was acting like how I used to whenever Mom read me something boring. But when I asked if she would prefer something else she said no, which was just… Was she just trying to be polite? Probably? I didn't know.

I very specifically ignored how easy it would be for me to crack her intentions open like an egg. Not knowing was much more fun.

It was near the cusp of evening when Headmaster Dumbledore walked in on us. He was tall and lanky with a long white beard and half moon glasses. Also he wore a hat, for some reason. I felt his gaze settle on me, not physically— though he did look at me— but in a more spiritual sense. The instant he saw me he noticed the irregularity of my aura, how it looked more like a machine of liquid obsidian than the colourful gaseous fire that most had.

“Greetings, Headmaster Dumbledore. When I was informed of my imminent interrogation I had assumed that Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, or my Head of House Professor Sprout, would be conducting the inquiry.” I said politely.

He sat down in a chair that was beside my bed. “Oh, no need for such formality, just Dumbledore works fine.” he said.

I turned to look at Hermione who was now sitting up, though still on top of my legs. “I think it best you leave us for now. I'll see you at dinner.” I told her.

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She looked at me quizzically, but ultimately conceded to lending us some privacy. Dumbledore waited until after she left before he started his questioning. “Now, do believe that you were there when Miss Granger recounted what had happened to Professor McGonagall, correct?” he asked.

“Yes Sir, I was tired but still conscious enough when Hermione explained what had happened.” I confirmed.

His starry blue eyes continued to look past but not through me, and in my mind’s eye I could see how he was attempting to peer at my surface thoughts to little success.

Surface level emotions weren't the sort of thing that one could hide, even with occlumency. To look upon them was not an attack or intrusion into the mind, it was merely seeing the outermost veil that existed even before an occlumency shell. The fact that I was lacking something so universally found was likely tilting him off base. It wasn't that I was not visible like a soulless object would be seen, but instead that my mind looked— from the outside at least— like an impenetrable void blacker than the dead of night. I̵t̴̙̀ ŵ̵͔a̵͛s̸ ̴ä̵ņ ë̸́͜y̵e̴̹͑ ̴s̶͆͜t̶͝ȧ̸͔rin̶̬̄g̷̰̈ i̸̒n e̵v̸͂è̴ͅr̸ỳ̴͚ d̵̢͒i̵̾͜r̶e̴̐çt̴͝i̷o̸̓n̶, but he didn't know that.

I frowned at him. “That's not very polite, you know. Just because they can be seen doesn't mean that it is your place to see them.” I said.

Dumbledore seemed slightly surprised, but not severely so. “I apologise, I was merely curious. In all my years I haven't seen… you specifically, I suppose. I've seen similar obscurations caused by relics and some such, but that isn't exactly pertinent to the matter at hand.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “McGonagall said that you left class in the middle of her opening lecture, although nobody saw you leave.”

“Yes Sir. A little birdie let me know that Hermione was having trouble, and I felt that I had a greater responsibility to her than I did to my attendance.” I responded.

“Mm, yes, of course,” He stroked his beard in thought, reconsidering whatever it was that he was thinking of. “I can only imagine that yesterday's events were rather harrowing for you and Miss Granger both. How are you faring after such an affair?” he asked.

I looked visibly down towards my bed, then swept my gaze around the room. “Well, Sir, I was hospitalised, so I would say that I am faring about as well as I could possibly have hoped for.” I replied.

He frowned slightly. “I suppose so… I'm curious about the method that you used to kill the troll.” he inquired, much more direct in his probing than earlier.

“I assumed that you would've inferred the method already.” I sighed. “If you must know, I transfigured the troll into a plant and then used the fire starting charm Sukivon to kill it.” I explained.

“That's rather advanced spell work for your age,” he said.

“Yes, well, my mother thought it prudent that I be capable of defending myself in situations like yesterday's.” I retorted.

He seemed amused by that. “Just in case you are randomly stumbled upon by a stray mountain troll, with no warning, and then have to fight it off alone?” he asked in jest.

“Or any other dangerous magical beast,” I confirmed.

He lost his mirth upon seeing the straightness of my face.

“This wasn't the first time I've had to immolate a troll in such a manner, Sir. Mother took me hunting quite often, and it wasn't uncommon for me to be caught unawares by a dangerous situation, early on at least.” I told him.

Dumbledore was clearly upset by my words, but at that point I had finished feeding him my alibi, so I didn't intend on having the conversation last much longer. “It isn't—” he started speaking, but adrenaline flooded my system as what he meant to say became clear. A quick check confirmed my suspicion.

“You're right, it isn't, so don't even dare to imply such a thing to my face.” I interrupted with a barely contained fury. He was about to imply unscrupulous things about my mother, and I could not—

—I bet it was his magical density. He had a magical density that was in the same range as fully grown thunderbirds, elder dragons, and Fae royalty. But I got along with all of those just fine, so perhaps it was the fact that he was my hierarchical superior? I was pretty standoffish with Titania until I put her in her place, but I couldn't exactly duel the Headmaster without breaking my cover, and I wasn't even sure that I could win such an engagement.

That was likely the crux of the issue. My instincts didn't like being near things that were a genuine threat to me. And as the most powerful wizard alive, Dumbledore was likely one of the last few things on the planet that even qualified as a ‘maybe’. The fact that his wand literally radiated death in the same way mine fluxed with starlight was probably the source of half my anxiety.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. “I'm sorry. I appreciate your concern, but I care about my mother very deeply.” I sighed. “Regardless, is there anything else you need to know? Because if not then I think I'd like for you to leave.”

He looked at me with a sad smile for a moment. “You're already more troublesome than your mother ever was. She must be very proud,” he said. That could be viewed as insulting to some, but I got the feeling that he was trying to be enduring.

I took his peace offering. “Yes, she is,” I agreed.

Dumbledore stood from his chair. “I suppose that concludes my business. My door is always open if you find yourself in need, even if nobody ever takes me up on my open door policy.” he rambled as he walked away.

Once he was gone I relaxed back into the infirmary bed. It was still a couple hours until dinner, but I couldn't exactly do much. Or maybe I could? I stood and walked over to Madam Pomfrey's office door, upon which I rapped my hand against the wood of. “Madam Pomfrey?” I asked. “I feel well enough to walk on my own, may I perchance be cleared to leave?” I was sure that she didn't stand a chance against the cuteness of my voice.

She opened up the door and looked down at my puppy eyes. “Oh, I was expecting a longer recovery time after brute forcing through a troll's magic resistance.” I fluttered my eyelashes in an act of perfectly valid rhetoric. “... But I suppose that if you're well then you're well and I don't see a good reason to keep you. Just don't do anything strenuous for a few days, and keep spell casting to a minimum, also remember to eat as much as you crave, drink plenty of water, and get as much sleep as you can, healer's orders.”

I nodded my head. “Of course, thank you madam.”

“Any time, deary,”

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

I spent the rest of the evening reading alchemy texts in the library. It was like chemistry, but it had magical energies involved. A lot of what potions did was temporary effects similar to transmutation, in fact many potions could be learned in spell form if one reverse engineered the magic involved. The distinction between brewing and alchemy lay in the fact that alchemy elected a permanent change.

An analogy that I came up with was that potions were like paint. Paint could change many properties of an object, like its colour, texture, and reflectiveness, but under the paint would still be the same. Alchemy would be like, well, chemistry being used to fundamentally change whatever it was that one was alchemizing in a why that was deeper than a coating of paint.

I was sure that M—

“Isn't alchemy a NEWT level subject?” Reynold Kippers asked, apparently stumbling upon me randomly whilst he was browsing herbology tomes. He set his books down on the opposite side of the circular table that I had been studying at. “Do you mind if I join you?”

I pulled my head out of a more recently published book about spagyric and pouted at him. “Wow, not even a ‘hey Artemis, how you doing’. And here I thought we were friends,” I said without any real heat behind it. Rainy was one of the half dozen members that stayed to join our little study group, so this was pretty common banter for us.

He sat down next to his books as he smiled at me. “Hey Artemis, how you doing?” he asked unabashedly. He was such a dork sometimes, but in a very personable way, unlike some other dorks that I would not name because that'd be rude.

“Reading, same as usual. But you can see that,” I smiled back at him.

There was a brief pause in which his smile mostly faded. “Everybody's been worried about you… not just recently either.” He tapped the book I'd been reading. “Stuff like this, it's worrying. You're really awesome, we all know that, but we're only first-years, and magic can be dangerous sometimes.”

“That's sweet of you to say, but I can assure you that I am perfectly safe.” I said.

“… I just wish you'd be less reckless, you might actually get hurt one day.” he intoned, clearly realising that he was fighting a losing battle. Rainy sighed, before brightening up a bit. “Can you help me with this plant stuff?” he asked, shelving the previous topic.

“I’d love to,” I said cheerfully, as I scanned through and identified the books he had in the blink of an eye. “But first you're going to want to grab a copy of Heretical Herbs & How not to Use Them. It'll help provide some historical context, assuming that I'm right in thinking that you're researching the valerian plant,” I told the silver haired boy.

He raised his brows slightly. “Where to find the time to read literally everything?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the table as he stood up.

I giggled a little. “Oh, you know, here and there in bits and pieces,” I answered, watching him strut off to find the book I had mentioned.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

(After dinner)

The plants in the Hufflepuff common room were in bloom all year around. They really helped make the space feel cosy, covering the walls with their splashes of colour. It got me thinking. Over the past two months I had been holding off on any prank ideas that I could do, instead spending my time gathering information. ‘But I think lining the school with flowering vines might be a good opener. It would be ostentatious, harmless, enjoyable for the students, and hardly any work to clean up.’ Or in other words, it was perfect!

“Why are you staring at that plant?” Gabby intruded on my plotting.

I looked away from the plant and blinked up at her. “Hm?”

“You've been staring at that plant for the past five minutes, and I don't like the implications.” she said suspiciously. I was crouched down on the floor next to the potted plant, and Gabby had walked up behind me. The blurple eyed girl was holding a book to her chest with both arms as she looked away from the plant to meet my gaze.

I tilted my head to the side a few degrees.

She took a few steps back. “Never mind, do whatever. I'm going to sleep.” She then unceremoniously walked away.

I looked back towards the flowering plant for a moment, and chuckled at Gabby's wariness, before disappearing into the wind.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Somewhere half the castle away— in the Gryffindor common room— Hermione found a cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of her chair, despite the fact that she could have sworn that it wasn't there before. She raised herself higher in her seat and looked around the room, but nobody was close enough to have delivered the drink.

She looked at the drink again and saw that there was a little note by it.

For Hermione Granger.

get better soon ;)

She flipped the note over and checked the other side.

No, this isn't spiked with poison or something equally ridiculous.

“Huh,” She placed the note on the table, and picked up the warm beige mug. As soon as she tasted the drink, her initial small sip swiftly became a much larger sip.

After several glorious seconds, Hermione pulled the cup of what simply had to be some sort of magical ambrosia away from her mouth, and moved to place the mug down, only to see that a chocolate brownie in the shape of a cupcake had appeared when she was sipping on the hot chocolate.

She humphed through her nose at the sight, and quietly grumbled about ‘witchcraft’, but her face and tone betrayed her lack of disapproval.