Chapter 22: Interlude
1991 March
Quidditch season was in full swing, and Alana found herself dealing with overly enthusiastic Slytherins for the first time in her life.
"...And then he feinted left and caught the snitch!"
"Did you see the look on her face? She…"
"...Alana, are you listening?"
The girl's head snapped up from where she had been drifting off and beamed at Lucian Bole and his official wing-man, Peregrine Derrick. Dear Merlin, they were still talking.
"She caught the snitch," She replied half-heartedly. "Weren't you celebrating all last week because of it?" Her hand waved towards Lucian dismissively. Why she endured this torture, she had no idea.
"Obviously, but the look on Kate's face is one I want to be framed." Peregrine cut in.
"Ask Warren," She suggested. "Even if he's in Gryffindor, he would probably sell the picture for the right amount." She thought of the lethargic boy who had been roped into taking pictures of every match and putting them on the Gryffindor dorm board. He'd been trying to escape the job for the past year and would probably get a kick out of selling the pictures. Peregrine perked up at the suggestion and nudged Lucian with a smile. Both boys giggled like a pair of gossiping women before batting their eyelashes at Alana.
"I think we'll head over now."
"We'll need to catch him before someone else has the same idea" Both boys bid their farewells before dashing out of the Great Hall.
The young witch they had left behind stretched her limbs which had grown stiff from disuse over the course of the conversation. It was with no small relief that she exited the building and began the trek to exit the castle walls. Spring had just arrived at the castle, and the gardens were slowly regaining the life they had lost. The young girl relaxed her muscles as she padded through the fringes of the forest. Here and there, she could spy stone formations that were no doubt built for rituals when they were still practised. Lichen lined the ancient structures, and she allowed her fingertips to trace whichever ones she happened to pass. It was easy to forget how ancient Hogwarts was with the lack of arcane magics taught.
She was so utterly enraptured in the ruins that she almost missed the brown, leather bag leaning against one of the pillars. She picked up the pack and examined it curiously. Sure enough, there was a name carved into the underside of the leather. Lobosca. She ran a finger over the name and considered it carefully. She had no idea who it was and was rather reluctant to move the pack in case its owner would return for it. She tapped her chin thoughtfully until she heard the sound of rustling leaves. A white-haired witch stumbled out of the forest and into the clearing she stood in. Blue eyes flickered to her figure and then to the pack in her arms. Alana quirked an eyebrow before holding the bag out for the girl.
"Thanks," The witch fumbled. She reached for the bag with one hand while the other nervously clutched the moon pendant hanging around her neck. "I didn't think anyone else came around here. I'm Chiara by the way." The girl offered an innocent smile that softened her already gentle features further. Alana offered her own smile and shook the girl's offered hand. Chiara held the bag to her chest and dipped her head in thanks a second time.
"Alana. It's nice to meet you, Chiara."
"You as well. Um… I have to go, but I guess I'll see you around then. Bye." The girl slung her bag over her shoulder awkwardly as she rushed towards the castle. Alana followed the girl with her gaze before returning to her walk. It was some days later that she learnt the girl was a seventh year Hufflepuff.
1991 April
Alana twisted her growing hair into a bun before heading down to the common room. Leoen sat in his usual spot with a chessboard set before him. After a heated game, both parted to follow their usual morning routine. Alana took to the corridors with the intention of slipping a charms book out of the library before the day began. The stone hallways were as cold as they were silent with the faint hum of magic emanating from them. She hummed softly under her breath as she took to the rotating stairs. A few of the portraits greeted her as she made her journey. Magical portraits were curious things. They were mental imprints of magicals taken by the painter. She had done some research on magical painters as part of a charms assignment, and the process was absolutely fascinating. The level of control and skill required to animate the most simple of paintings was mind-blowing, yet Hogwarts hung hundreds on its walls. Most were second-rate donations by old families, but a few were of high enough quality to be considered a flaunting of wealth to donate. The Renaissance had seen hundreds of them donated in what had become known as the Paint Wars.
"What in Merlin's name happened to you!" The shout and sound of falling books shattered Alana's peaceful reverie, and she glanced, annoyed in the direction it had come from.
"I tripped."
"On air?!"
The young witch found the perpetrators in the library. A fair, pink-haired witch sat on the ground rubbing circles on her arm. Her facial expression was one of annoyance and pain as she glared at the witch across from her. Alana gave the two seventh years a quick assessment as she entered the room. Chiara Lobosca turned her head away from her clumsy friend and spied Alana's smaller form.
"Oh! Good morning, Alana." She greeted the younger witch. The pale pinkette glanced at the other occupant of the room questioningly while Alana gave Chiara small, polite wave.
"Who's that?" The other seventh year directed suspicious eyes to the honey-eyed witch.
"She's a third-year that I know. Her name's Alana," Chiara introduced the girl proudly. "Alana, this is Nymphadora Tonks."
"Call me Nymphadora, and I'll kick you off the astronomy tower. It's Tonks." Alana's mouth twitched at the threat as a laugh bubbled in her throat.
"I'll keep that in mind, Tonks. It's nice to see you again, Chiara." Alana gave a quick smile and readied an excuse to leave the two. She was still gathering her thoughts when she noticed a particular book lying on the floor. She knelt to pick up the title.
"Where one of you using this?" She asked. It was the exact book she was looking for.
"I was returning it actually," Tonks wrinkled her nose. "It's a really boring read. Just so you know. Jackson Revel's edition is way more interesting."
Alana graced the girl with a genuine smile having read the book she spoke of already. It focused more on practical wand work than theory which was why she had wanted another book to reference. There were a few more books scattered across the floor, and she gingerly picked up a few. Catching on, Chiara helped grab the rest while Tonks attempted to right herself.
"Did you really trip on air?" Alana had to ask as she held the pile to the girl. Tonks gave her a traumatised stare.
"I swear, there's a diety up there laughing his arse off every time I trip. The air is conspiring against me," She whispered with a shiver. Alana didn't bother hiding her amusement.
"I suppose it's a good thing your friend is so interested in healing," She commented. She nodded towards the stack of healing books perched precariously on a table behind Chiara and said witch blushed heavily.
"I want to become a healer," She explained. Her fingers were wrapped around her moonstone pendant out of habit.
"Do you know any good starter books on healing? I'm a bit prone to injury myself," Alana asked innocently. Prone was hardly the right word when injury was part of her job description. Chiara lit up with delight, and she couldn't help but think the witch had the appearance of a china doll when she wasn't nervous. She knew several rogues who would die to have such a cute nurse working on them. She cackled at the mental image.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone