Early morning, as Sparrow blinked awake. Grey light through the window. Not a dawn worthy of the name, but there were few enough of those in this season. Still, her mornings were better than they had been in all her life, for to wake up [No finer place to be|enfolded in the arms of her loved ones] was to know that, whatever happened, she was not alone.

And besides which it was quite a comfortable position. Tempting to linger there, most mornings, as long as Jill would linger – ah, but until the lightning storm came there was [Back to the daily grind|work to be done] at dawn. Sparrow gently lifted Jill’s arm off her midsection and struggled upright, picking up her wand from where it lay on the dresser next to the Fetching Stick. Sparrow and Jill’s wands now rested with the Fetching Stick between them, a parallel that had Jocasta asking who, in their own arrangment, was the dog. She had decided that Sparrow was a cute little puppy.

Well. Perhaps that would be Sparrow’s animagus form, whenever the ritual finally came to fruition. And in the meantime, there was the spell to recite. Amato animo animato animagus.

A tiny jolt in her chest, as the magic took hold. And that was that task completed, and now, Jill’s embrace called to Sparrow once more –

But there was yet other work that [Can’t let anyone else see|could only be done now], must be done now, could not wait another moment.

Sparrow sat herself down at her writing desk, rolled out a bit of parchment, dipped her quill into the ink bottle, put quill to parchment – Mother, Father, sister, brother, so much has happened and I have failed to inform you of any of it. There was always more than enough to fit in a letter, and now too much. We must meet in person as soon as you are able. I will attempt to arrange something on my end, let me know if you can think of anything yourself.

Stay a healthy distance from anyone involved with the Ministry. Don’t make waves. I love you. I am so sorry I have been silent.

– Sparrow

She nearly smudged the ink in her haste to blot it, then she rolled it up and shoved herself away from the desk, scrambling to dress as quickly as she could without waking Jill and Jocasta – she silently thanked ancient school traditions for requiring a [School uniform|uniform], it made dressing so simple.

She cast a muffling charm over the hinges of the door for extra caution, then pulled it open and departed, creeping down the steps, out of the common room door, into the hall – where was the way to the Owlery on a Wednesday? Left-hand corridor on the third level and up another flight. Right.

It was one of the advantages of Sparrow being an [But she doesn’t eat worms|Early Bird] – har, har, har – that she could make her way through the corridors at an hour when almost no one else would even be half-awake. Such as, for example, all of the portraits gently snoring in their frames. Whoever had enchanted them to be that similar to the humans they depicted had left a security gap wide open.

Ghosts, on the other hand, did not sleep. Rather famous for causing trouble all night, as a matter of fact. So when Sparrow found herself at the door to the Owlery, she was startled into nearly shouting aloud before clapping a hand over her mouth, as the ghost of Argus Filch floated right through the wood.

He grinned. "Heh. One thing I never got to do when I was alive. Almost makes me enjoy being dead."

"So now you’re a prankster," hissed Sparrow. "[How the not so mighty have fallen!|You’ve become what you fought against]."

Argus shrugged. "Small potatoes."

"Are you going to dock me more house points for being out of bed?"

Argus gave her a Look. "Small potatoes."

"Seriously?"

Argus rolled his eyes. "It’s not a forbidden corridor, and your elders probably applaud your chipper morning attitude. I could be a stickler for the rules and say you’re out-of-bounds with your curfew. But I’ll be nice." He grinned, showing teeth.

"I kind of have to get this done," said Sparrow. "But – it might be a weird thing to ask because Hogwarts ghosts don’t usually have to deal with dementors, but like, [Shit, that’s a good question|are ghosts vulnerable to dementors]? Because you’re made of soul, or something."

"Made of regrets," said Argus. "It’s like bringing coals to Newcastle. Dementors feed on happiness."

"So...if I asked you and the ghosts to keep an eye out for dementors…"

Argus raised an eyebrow. "They’re come around here again, eh? Oh, I remember decades ago, the Ministry brought those things here...the kids were tense and suspicious the whole year, they were. [Nothing gold can stay|It was beautiful]." He sighed. "Happy times long gone."

"Gonna be tense again as shit gets worse," muttered Sparrow.

"Don’t tease me with a good time," said Argus. "But alright, alright. Just for you, I’ll...ask [Spider and Fly|Sir Podmore and his gang] to keep watch."

"Thank you." Sparrow bowed.

"Whatever." Argus floated through Sparrow, leaving her shuddering for a second, before she cast another muffling charm on the Owlery door’s hinges and stepped through.

Only to find that every single owl was [Don’t stand so close to me|perching as high as it possibly could], way out of the reach of any witch who didn’t yank it down with magic. The last thing Robin wanted to do was be rude. "Here owl owl owl," said Robin, yet not a single owl moved. "Blast," muttered Robin, "are you all on [Oh no, wait, I see picket signs in your talons|vacation] or something? What the bloody hell is this? We need to be able to get some kind of communication out, you know." Yet for all Sparrow’s entreaties, she found no owl willing to come to her. Sparrow shoved her parchment back in her pocket and stomped out of the owlery in a huff.

_{††††† SPARROW?
†††††}

_{⋄⋄ SORRY SORRY, I'LL BE WITH YOU IN A MOMENT. ⋄⋄}

But "a moment" proved long enough to be embarrassing, as she made her way back to the common room, for the staircase she stepped onto decided it would shift to connect to the fourth floor, this time, instead of the second floor. A marvelous means of confusing intruders, oh sure, but if anyone ordinary needed to get somewhere quickly, they might be better served by –

Jumping off the staircase and casting ascendio alternating with arresto momentum. As Sparrow landed on the ground floor and hurried forward, [This castle was designed by an idiot. In both the Watsonian and Doylist sense.|she wondered if an intruder wouldn’t just think of that, after all].

Back through the common room door and back up to her dorm room and [Jill is a mother hen, it seems|back under Jill’s arm] without remembering to remove her uniform.

"Sparrow," murmured Jill. "What were you doing? Where did you go?"

"Trying to send a letter." Sparrow yawned. "Trying to get it in early. Trying to contact my parents. But the owls snubbed me. Maybe I was too late in the morning."

"And here I thought you’d just decided to get the showers early." Jill shifted a little. "Hmph. Might as well. Probably better to get there before Jo here offers to shower with you."

Jocasta grinned, eyes still closed, as she rolled out of Jill’s embrace. "Now that’s part of next year’s curriculum."

"Curriculum." Sparrow giggled. "You really are a sex nerd."

Jocasta chuckled evilly. "You will learn, little bird." Her eyes snapped open, instantly fixed on Sparrow. "You will learn."

Sparrow trembled, as Jocasta rose, and rose further, looming over her and Jill. "Oh my dear Jill," Sparrow quavered, "my brave Lady Knight, save me from this fiend!" She threw her arms around Jill.

Jill’s eyes opened, and she cried in mock terror, wrapping her arms around Sparrow. "Oh my dear Sparrow, my steadfast shield, save me from this wicked witch!"

Jocasta descended upon the two and – covered both of their faces with kisses, as they giggled and squealed. "There," she said, "I have captured you, my pretties." She dove for Sparrow’s neck and grazed the girl’s skin with her teeth. "[She’s pale enough to be a vampire|Perhaps I shall turn you], and make you mine."

Much as Sparrow shivered with delight, she was not wholly satisfied – not until she sat up, cupped Jocasta’s face in her palms, and –

Jocasta grinned. "Go on then, we’ve much time to make up for."

Sparrow plunged Jocasta into a deep kiss, one that had Jocasta squirming and Jill laughing. Jill gave Sparrow a soft kiss on the cheek, making her feel warm all over. But it was not the manner of kiss she had been expecting. She met Jill’s eyes, which were now sadder than before. "My dear," she said, "where are your fiery kisses of before?"

"Do I dare indulge?" said Jill. "And burn you out? I must restrain myself, my dear. Be content with what I can give you."

"I can certainly make up for the deficit," said Jocasta, lunging at Sparrow once more.

And somehow, despite waking up early, the three of them were nearly late for breakfast.

…

Most days would have been spent studying what books they could find in the library, and perhaps practicing in some place that would be free and unbothered that day. Today they’d set aside for practicing potioncraft with Miranda. So, once again down into the dungeons, and perhaps this time it wouldn’t be embarrassing.

Although, as Sparrow saw Percival Bulstrode lingering around one of the doors near their chosen empty classroom, there was some cause to wonder if the day would not turn out to be annoying. Especially since, as she and her crew drew near, he gave Sparrow a look like he’d been waiting to say something,

"Go on," she muttered, "I’ll handle him, it’s probably political shit."

But as everyone else entered the empty classroom, out from behind Percival stepped [Help Me Out, Will You?|Inigo Aguirre].

"Well met," she signed, "and I am surprised to see you without Belladonna and Johnny. What business do you have with...this tall fellow here?"

Percival chuckled, and signed, "Please, little bird, I know my signs."

"So he can pick up on people trying to slip messages silently," signed Inigo. "He says." He rolled his eyes. "Look at me, I’m a big scary conniving schemer, I can read you like an open book, better watch yourself."

"Not answering my question," signed Sparrow. "What’s the deal here?"

"You never gave me your answer about the [Hogsmudge|slug club]," signed Percival. "But in the meantime, my young friend here had the idea that you could –"

"Teach them sign language?" signed Sparrow.

The two boys nodded.

"Great minds think alike," signed Sparrow. "So when’s the next meeting?"

"Tonight," signed Percival.

Sparrow felt the blood drain from her face. "Do you – do you want me to start tonight? I never managed to put a lesson plan together, busy with a lot of other stuff, I’m really sorry. Are you sure you can’t wait until the next meeting?"

"It’s only once per month," signed Inigo. "We’re already beyond halfway through the school year, and I – people are still muttering about trying to [Hold still|fix me] and I’m getting kind of scared."

_{⋄⋄ DAMN THEM, I THOUGHT THEY WERE LISTENING TO ME. ⋄⋄}

"Most of them perhaps," signed Percival, "but then, it only takes one, doesn’t it...and if people believe you’re on a high horse and lording it over them, there’s always more than a few who will deliberately neglect anything you say. You did establish a rather high-handed reputation at this school."

Sparrow winced. "Guilty as charged."

_{††††† SPARROW? WHAT IS THE MATTER NOW?
†††††}

Sparrow jumped. "Gotta rush," she signed. "Tonight, right? I’ll be ready."

"Seven of the clock," signed Inigo. "Good luck, and thank you very much."

Sparrow barely even had time to sign a goodbye before she dashed into the classroom.

…

The potion they had been practicing was Draught of Peace, the which Sparrow’s mind was not fully on, preoccupied with how to even teach the subject of sign language. And, as well, the presence of Miranda, which was more intense than ever – not least because she was their teacher for today, and [Potions demand perfection|unmerciful in her assessment of their work]. Nobody’s work was what Miranda would consider worthy of an "outstanding" grade, or even an "exceeds expectations", at least as the Ministry assessors were likely to judge the work. Jocasta, Wren and Iphis’ potions certainly exceeded Miranda’s expectations – they were just the right color, only lacking in the proper consistency and aroma. Jill’s, slightly darker than it should have been, Miranda was willing to say was at least non-toxic.

And Sparrow’s was...a [Appetizing|bubbling mess of black sludge] left over after half of the mixture had turned to vapor in a moment, when Sparrow had been drumming her fingers on the table thinking of lesson plans. So, at the very least Miranda didn’t have to come around and go "tut tut", when she was already shaking her head sadly from the other side of the room.

"What do we all think then?" said Sparrow. "[Best two out of three!|Second attempt]? Now that we know what we did wrong?"

"I would need to requisition more Lacewing Flies," said Miranda. "Which take a certain amount of time to breed, it’s not even the right season yet, Professor Longbottom needs them, our supplies from Hogsmeade are currently cut off...not exactly a good time to try again."

"You’ve got to have some substitutes in that greenhouse of yours," said Jill.

Miranda threw up her hands. "Oh, what a pity that the magical field disintegrates plants and insects that attempt to pass through it! It’s almost as if someone set it up that way, to avoid contaminating the magical environment with [invasive species]. What a shame."

"Environment’s pretty well [Well I’ll be|hornswoggled] already," said Wren. "But you’ve also got those seeds down in the basement ready to go whenever, so whatever, not gonna push it. Might as well try the potioncraft more when we’ve saved Hogsmeade. I’d rather be in the library doing research anyway. Who’s up for history of magic?"

The answer being everyone, which surprised Sparrow, at least until she considered that anything would be more interesting if someone besides Professor Binns was teaching it. Such as, say, Iphis. And speaking of which – oh rats, he and Wren were about to head out the door –

Sparrow caught Iphis’ sleeve. "Little help?"

Months ago, Iphis might have given Sparrow a stern look at this behavior, and perhaps a cutting remark. But now he only smiled faintly. "I suppose I can do what I can. Go on then?"

"Lesson plans," said Sparrow. "Kinda of a rush, I’m teaching sign language to the Slug Club starting tonight, you’re a better teacher than me. Can you come and save my sorry hide?"

Iphis sighed. "I have no desire to be around a majority-slytherin crowd. They...tend to say things that hit me fairly hard, though they would not know why, as I am not out to anyone but my own friends here. I think if you meet them, you will come to understand why I find them grating. Why you chose to teach them, instead of, I don’t know, the Hufflepuff quidditch team, I have no idea. But I’m not a Gryffindor, I don’t have to be brave. So."

"Also, seven PM," said Wren. "Really bad timing."

"Don’t remind me," said Iphis through gritted teeth.

Sparrow coughed. "Dare I ask –"

"It’s when my transfiguration spell tends to wear off," growled Iphis. He sighed. "Look, just, don’t teach them like I started teaching you, alright? Don’t say a damn word, it’s the wrong way to do it. [Best way to learn a language, right?|Immerse them]. Throw them into the deep end of the pool. Put those stuck-up social climbers on the back foot for once."

"Do it for him," said Miranda, from where she remained at her personal cauldron. "And do it for me."

"Rather have those types on my side," said Sparrow. She glanced around. Jocasta had gone, and Jill was now lingering in the doorway, reaching a hand out to her.

But – Sparrow turned back – there was Miranda, at her cauldron, and there were questions for her, questions that could only be asked alone. Sparrow turned again to Jill. _{⋄⋄ I'LL BE ALONG, DEAR. DON'T WORRY, I'LL MISS YOU TERRIBLY. ⋄⋄}

Jill giggled. _{††††† WHEN DO YOU NOT? NO DIFFERENT THAN ME. DON'T BE LONG, LOVE, I MIGHT BE PINING AWAY. †††††}

_{⋄⋄ YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO CUDDLE JO EVEN MORE TO MAKE UP FOR ME. ⋄⋄}

_{• GET A ROOM, YOU TWO. •}

Sparrow and Jill laughed, and Jill departed, leaving Sparrow to turn back to Miranda – and to the girl’s annoyed expression, as she was vanishing the residue in each cauldron.

Sparrow winced internally, realizing that everyone else had left without cleaning anything up. She moved around the tables, sweeping salvageable ingredients back into containers, vanishing the material that could not be saved. Miranda took notice of this and raised her eyebrows, but she said nothing, and Sparrow said nothing in turn.

Until, after they had finished storing the cauldrons, Sparrow gently patted Miranda on the shoulder, causing the girl to whirl around. "Yes?" she said in a clipped tone. "What is it then?"

"Just wanted to talk," signed Sparrow, "in a manner of speaking."

Miranda frowned. "This way?" she signed. "Does something bother you so much you can’t talk about it aloud? Is this about your worst nightmare?"

"It might be about your worst nightmare," signed Sparrow. "If you have one. But you must, you did the eye thing, you [In Which Minerva McGonagall Does Not Know What To Do|tossed ice at the fireplace], your magic is leaking like everyone else’s...I thought, this is a quiet way to talk. Discreet. Confidential."

"Oh really." Miranda shook her wand out of her sleeve, pointed it at a couple of chairs, and wafted them over to her and Sparrow. "Sit."

Sparrow sat. "[Wait, shit, hold on|We’re doing this now]?"

"Did you not want to?"

"I mean, we ought to be studying after all, I was going to suggest arranging something." Sparrow sighed. "Assuming you even want to say anything? You didn’t want to, back up in the Dragon Tower. You know what, I shouldn’t have even asked. I’m sorry." She rose to leave.

Miranda dragged her back down to the chair. "Incorrect," signed Miranda. "I am glad you asked. I appreciate that I can entrust you with my secrets. I just didn’t say anything in the Dragon Tower because there was no way to say anything without outing Iffy, especially in front of [Some people you can’t trust with your heart|Filch]."

"That’s fair." Sparrow hesitated, before signing, "Whatever’s hurting you and stifling you then...do I even need to ask? Kinda seems obvious when I think about it."

"There’s more to the tale than whatever you could piece together," signed Miranda. "But, you are correct, we have studying to be getting to, and this is certainly not the right place, even with your precautions for confidentiality. So. Whenever you get done with the Slug Club, call on me, and I’ll tell you where we’re going."

Sparrow raised an eyebrow. "Surprise, huh?"

"[Gotta have some fun in your life right|Dramatic flair]," signed Miranda. "Come on then, let’s be about our business." She rose, and Sparrow followed.

Potion Practice (fiction)