Following: Eat Your Dragonheart Out

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Safely ensconced in the bustling warmth of the kitchens – at one of the smaller, round tables, separate from the ones connected to the Great Hall – Gracie ignored the disapproving looks she drew from the house elves as she noisily dropped into her seat and propped her feet onto the next chair. Better it be for that, though, than the small bundles of kitten she dropped into Raine’s and Alex’s laps, her own ball of fluff mewling with annoyance.

From the warm indent of her thighs, four amber eyes glared up at her beneath a pair of stubby black horns, a tiny paw fruitlessly reaching up to bat the nose off her face. Nearly three –or was it four?– months old, it looked hardly more than two and half, its fur sticking out oddly in some places—the very picture of kittenish awkwardness. They were growing at a much slower rate than she’d previously assumed.

“Sorry,” she said breezily to the table at large, snatching a cookie from Raine’s miniature mountain and stuffing it into her mouth. Ignoring the grumpy kitten’s stubborn climbing, she stretched, picking up the teapot to pour some for herself. Her mouth still full (and dotted with crumbs), Gracie gave them both an equally breezy grin. “Finding them took a bit longer than I thought. Now, was that the worst Charms class we’ve ever had, or the worst Charms class we’ve ever had? -Ooh, is that lemon cake?”

When she wasn’t bumming about in the common room, or the pitch– anywhere, really, where friends could be found –Gracie was most often in the kitchens, blithely mooching off the house elves with a toothy grin and an easy, confident manner that had them tripping over themselves to welcome her. With its constant warmth, delicious smells, and comforting din of clanging pans, chopping knives and sizzling oil, it was like another home away from home, reminding her of her own kitchen back in Devon, where she’d help her aunt in preparing meals to a similar noise. In the constant hustle ‘n bustle of her life, it was as noisy and chaotic as the rest of it, yet offered a cozy oasis of calm, one where she could indulge in a bit of homesickness and not feel too bad about it.

These days, though, she was around more often than before. Somewhere in the kitchens was a nest of kittens that were, at the moment, hers and hers alone; despite the very excellent help Jordyn provided, finding them owners to trust them with was proving harder than she’d thought. Quite understandably Gracie was rather protective of them.

(There may have even been snuggles, of a feline nature, in feline form, although far be it from her to admit anything.)

At least for one afternoon, she could shrug off the pressure somewhat. She’d been meaning to introduce some of her closest friends to the little freaks, anyway.

---

Raine was partly hidden behind a heap of cookies, blonde hair loose from its braid and fallen limp to her shoulders in defeat.

Robes, cardigans, sweaters and the like were strewn across the table as it was much warmer down here. The kittens that Gracie had dropped onto her lap blinked wonderingly up at the flushed face, whose cheeks were smeared with crumbs and creamy milk. The Gryffindor's secret sweet tooth was not so much a secret to the elves or the Nightshades.

"Lemon drizzle," she huffed and slid the plate forward while the rest of her hunched over the strange felines; poking their wet noses dubiously. "I don't know. Does it still count as a lesson if the only thing we learnt was that he's bloody crazy? I mean-" at this, a frustrated sound caused the house elves to jump, "- never mind. We ought not even try, Kesali isn't worth it."

If she had wanted to be treated like a toddler, staying at home was preferable to Hogwarts. One of the kittens mewled and she picked it up: the fur ball slipped right through her fingers and dropped to the table. Raine frowned at it distractedly, then glanced at Alex as she loosened her tie.

"I'm honestly more upset that we got nothing productive done. Well..." she trailed off into an expression that was thoughtful and a touch guilty. "Besides that business with the rope." None of them had been burnt of course - both Gracie and Alex knew well her penchant for fire charms.

They also knew, in spite of her bravado, their professor had stepped on several nerves that were not yet recovered. Raine reached for another biscuit.

The ball of grey fluff that had been deposited in her lap stirred, and the frown that had been on Alex’s face eased. Her hands reached out, brushing the fur smooth while the kitten stared up at her. She got the distinct impression that a judgement was being passed, although since the judger was an adorable kitten with adorably tufted fur, she found it a little difficult to take seriously. Give it a year, however, and she could see that the kitten would be able to pass judgement with the best of – ah.

She didn’t take Care of Magical Creatures; nevertheless, Alex was aware that cats were supposed to have a single tail. The smile that had been beginning to form disappeared, and she looked up at Gracie. “That is mine,” she said firmly, rectifying Raine’s mistake and moving the plate back towards herself. The lemon cake at Hogwarts wasn’t quite as good as that sold at Alohomocha, but it was still far too nice to share, even if she had just been given a kitten, and she bit into hers, beaming at Gracie while Raine spoke.

“In that case, I didn’t learn anything,” Alex sighed, staring at the ceiling, “having been long aware of Kesali’s lack of sense.” She paused, then shook her head, “No, I lie. I thought it was impossible, but today I learnt that he is genuinely so lacking in self-awareness as to overlook the total hypocrisy of what he was saying.” Talking about how much he cared about their emotional wellbeing while trying to manipulate them into feeling guilt about not sharing their problems with a lunatic was… laughable.

While she did like charms theoretically, that theory became further removed from reality the more time she spent with their dear charms professor, and she was only persevering in the hope that Kesali would leave, one that seemed closer after the day’s events. “I don’t think we would have learnt much anyway. Our… peers,” she conceded, voice full of distaste, “were particularly rambunctious, and Kesali was obviously in a strop. That combination was only ever going to end in chaos.” She’d only added their classmates as a gesture of politeness; in her opinion, Kesali in a strop and anyone was likely to end in manic ramblings.

A stab of claws drew her attention to the disapproving kitten, and Alex smiled with an indulgence rarely afforded to bipeds. “And what did Slant do to get you, hmm?” she asked it, more curious about the answer than she would admit. She didn’t think that Gracie would dabble in hexperimentation, and as far as she knew her monstrosity of a cat was male, which left the question of how Gracie had ended up with multiple mutated kittens.

Gracie’ smile– which had brightened considerably at Raine’s helpfulness –dimmed in an instant at Alex’s repudiation. Noooo, she thought; there was heartbreak on her face. “I see how it is,” she said sadly, giving the stingy Ravenclaw a tragic, soulful look.

And then it was gone in the next instant, sudden laughter bursting in a spray of crumbs; one could sharpen knives with their words. The all-important fact they were only too true made them that much funnier, albeit not, upon closer inspection, in a very funny way. It was that kind of funny that had laughing people crying in seconds.

Indeed, Gracie’s laughter came to a halt, albeit a rather abrupt and decidedly tearless one. But instead of the affronted dignity she’d responded with to Jordyn then, she merely puffed up with robust hauteur, complete with a flawless hair toss their Carstairs ancestors would be proud of. (Whether or not that was actually a thing they would care about was irrelevant.) “It was a twist of fate, unforeseen by all but the parties most intimately involved,” she intoned, her voice deep and ponderous. “As he stalked the night, which was heavy with gloom, with no witnesses but for the ageless stars and his own solitude, his eyes did attract a comely pair, and lo, hearts met over a distance insignificant to the curious eye, but also one that spanned moments longer than a thousand years-”

And then she gave up, and into that urge to grin like a loon, cackling that blithe, scratchy laugh that stood out so easily in a crowd. “Greebo’s a dormant,” she explained, once the laughter subsided with a happy sigh. “He shacked up with a lady of a similar persuasion, and by the time I tracked them to the Shrieking Shack the place was crawling with these things.” For emphasis she held up one of those aforementioned ‘things’, which had been clambering up her sweater in hopes of getting onto the table, compelled by the delicious smells. Annoyed at being thwarted, he mewled imperiously, wriggling in her grasp. His belly fur was a pale, smoky grey.

But cute though he was– they were– it wasn’t long until her thoughts strayed to their problematic professor again. “I’m not looking forward to our next class,” she admitted, expression drooping. She could only imagine what he’d have to say come Monday. “Bet you guys a galleon he’ll have another speech for us prepared?” Though after today’s class it hardly seemed like a fair wager.

At this rate, they weren’t going to learn anything.

Her grin, coaxed by Alex's astute observation of their professor, was all biscuit crumbs.

The jovial expression reigned itself in and she lifted a goblet of milk by the stalk. Raine glanced between the two witches while the subject of kittens (one of which was investigating the cookie mountain) was brought up in the most interesting of ways. Gracie had a poet's mouth- among other things. It was difficult to keep a straight face, so she didn't.

"There have been worst surprises come across in the Shrieking Shack~" The Gryffindor remarked with a laugh and picked up another one of the kittens from her lap; they were slowly dispersing along the bench. Curiously quiet, the greyish kitten stared back at her with squinting eyes.

Raine put him down before he could melt her heart.

Kesali swung back into the conversation and she leaned forward, elbows on table. "He can prepare as many speeches as he would like," a cold light entered her eyes. "That doesn't mean we have to listen. Wouldn't it be lovely if we could just go through all his lessons with a deafening charm?"

Blissful, blissful silence.

Gracie’s elaborate speech got not one but two eyebrows lifted in amused disapproval, both disappearing when the Slytherin gave up on trying to spin out the tale. It was not entirely surprising, Greebo was a little odd to be entirely normal, but it hadn’t been the answer she’d expected. She petted the kitten in her lap gently, “Don’t worry, you’re a very adorable thing,” she reassured, although he couldn’t understand what was being said.

Reaching for her tea, there was an uncomfortable moment when she worried that she would spit it out, or worse, open her mouth and allow it to dribble down her chin, but she managed to avert the crisis, swallowing it and drawing in a breath. It took a moment to compose herself, pressing a hand to her mouth before returning her attention to the conversation.

It was a sad day when you entirely agreed with such poor opinions of a teacher. Kesali’s insistence on probing into their lives wouldn’t be so serious a problem if he displayed consistency in his behaviour.

“But his speeches do hold some value,” Alex insisted, “Not only do they give us insight into the thoughts of the disturbed, they’re also hilarious.” Of course, that required a slight degree of detachment – one which, when the speech was directed at you, was probably a little harder to find. “But not enough so that a deafening charm wouldn’t come in handy,” she conceded.

It was difficult to feel like sighing when one had tea, lemon cake, and good company, but she still found herself holding one back. “He did admit that he was verging on quitting though,” she recalled with uncharacteristic optimism, “Just think, he could leave and we could have a competent teacher!” Of course, the alternative was that they could end up with an even less competent teacher – but if they were lucky, not one who would harp on about how difficult their job was and the emotional turmoil of their personal lives.

There was no use; she sighed, “I don’t think we’re going to learn much from Kesali.” The last two words were the important ones; while learning solely from books was never going to be as efficient as having a teacher who actually followed their job description, it was still better than a teacher who didn’t. And it wasn’t as though it was the first time students had decided to teach themselves.

Alex’s optimism was catching, though the memory of Sandusky held her back, a slight twitch of her brows marring her brow. He might not have harped on how difficult his job was or the emotional turmoil in his life, much less tried to tell them their thoughts and feelings (or what kind of people they were– he thought they were– and how they were such ungrateful, naive children), but– it had still been awful, having him as a teacher. Gracie couldn’t help but recall he had been a Hufflepuff, too, though she knew that wasn’t fair; his successors Professor Finnigan and Professor Santucci were nothing like him. Nor was the adorable Ji-Hyun Jeun (who appealed to every protective and predatory instinct the Slytherin had), or Fig (who might be an idiot but was a harmless one, at least). “Preach,” Gracie solemnly held out her cup to her, and once they satisfyingly clinked she took a bracing sip.

After all, a girl could dream.

A house elf came bearing a perfectly made napoleon; the quidditch captain accepted it with a broad, happy smile. She wasn’t fond of being predictable, but if it meant being offered all her favorite foods without prompting, she was more than happy to be so. “We could always bring back the Racketeers,” she mused as she nibbled on a bite, occasionally breaking off crumbs to share with the demanding kitten in her lap. “A timely revival might be just the thing to save our grades.” Preferably before they needed saving.

Mention of their old Transfiguration professor was like a dark cloud that dampened conversation. It was only proper that they were surrounded by cookies and kittens to alleviate such symptoms.

Still burning on the inside over being given detention, Raine only added to Alex's comment on their professor possibly quitting: "I can only imagine the going away party they would throw him, both in the common and staff rooms..." she smirked, slumping across the table and pushing the cookie mountain further away from two curious kittens. Although she never received confirmation of it from another teacher's mouth, it was suspected that other faculty members did not necessarily enjoy his company. "We could even take bets for the next Charms professor."

The Gryffindor didn't gamble but she would have made an exception in this case.

It had been some time since she heard the wordRacketeers however and it brought a skeptical quality to her countenance, in good humour. Raine eyed Gracie's mille-feuille as she mulled over the idea of their short-lived study group and the effort that had gone into herding classmates together.

"Our grades aren't in need of saving-" by that she meant the three of them and could not speak for everyone else, "- but I don't disagree. It may be useful and we already study together." Not to mention their Nightshade charms. Raine sat up straight at this and brought her legs up onto the bench. If they didn't make an event out of it, perhaps, and other classmates could drop by whenever. "I don't know. Alex?" she glanced at the other witch with a sigh. "Rid us of indecision?"

She was never quite sure where all the odd muggle slang came from, Phillip used it too – although a different variety to Gracie’s, because she had never used mint to express approval, at least not in Alex’s hearing. Her face stiffened at the thought of him, still in the Hospital Hut, but that just meant that he was being well cared for. He was fine, she reassured herself, and even managed something approximating a smile at Raine’s predictions.

“What are you proposing we bet on?” she asked, “competency is too subjective, and as for consistency or stability, you’d never have anyone bet that it would worsen.” It wasn’t a subject that Alex considered sensible to bet on, there were far too many unknown quantities and variables for anyone to establish odds, let alone take them up on it – but the allure of easy money was strong enough that people forgot that.

Although technically there was nothing wrong with the aims of the Racketeers, namely, to learn, in spirit things were somewhat different. There was nothing like establishing a study group as a way of protesting a teacher’s incompetency. But the trouble that they could potentially end up in were they caught wasn’t Alex’s concern, since she had no intention of getting caught – should they decide to restart the Racketeers, a decision which, apparently, lay in her hands. Oh, the heady joys of power. “I think it could be beneficial,” she said eventually, “But not sufficiently so. I, personally, don’t wish to endure the company of some of those who would attend.”

There was a pause while she took another sip of her drink, and then she smiled, “Besides, if we decide that it’s imperative that we have some form of Charms self-teaching, it would be far easier – and more efficient – to keep it within the Nightshades.” Mostly because all of the Nightshades were good at Charms to begin with, whereas the Racketeers’ open membership policy had led to a wider range of natural abilities.

Gracie quirked the girls a wry grin, unruffled by their ultimate pass. All were good points, and she hadn’t been terribly keen on the idea, anyway; helping certain people had been a real trial– more so when some had begun referring to it as ‘hate club’, even though the only people who’d begun hating on the professor during sessions had been the idiots themselves. “Then it’s settled,” she shrugged, taking a sip. “We’ll say no more about it.”

She was quite happy to continue as they were, too. There were some charms best practiced– and experimented with– solely within the company of certain friends. At least then there could be head scratches and belly rubs afterward.

Firmly pushing all thoughts of incompetent professors to the side, Gracie directed her attention onto the errant kitten nestled comfortably atop her thighs. As she gently scratched at its belly, the tiny thing stirred, stretching and twisting until it collapsed into a helpless pile of fluff again, all smoke gray fur, horns, and adorably hellish eyes– truly a creature infinitely more appealing than any awful, lunatic man. She was quite fond of this one, and the thought of giving him away was just…

Well. Not to be thought, obviously.

“Anyway…” she drawled, pushing that thought away, too. The beginnings of a smile– a smirk– tugged at her lips, slow and wicked. “Alex, I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

Leaning forward, Gracie interlaced her fingers together and propped her chin atop of them, green eyes round and bright with heinous glee. “Did you know your boss was in a calendar?”

Smiling, Alex continued to eat her cake, pleased to have a conclusion and glad that, while Gracie’s attempt hadn’t been bad, she wasn’t as bad as Rick. Or as much of an arse about it, when she did succeed.

Nothing good had ever come of the expression on Gracie’s face, not when you were the one at whom it was directed at, and Alex tried to think what she’d done to incite it. The obvious answer was unlikely, as she hadn’t seen him in six days, which left her at a loss.

Ah. That would do it. “No,” she said shortly, wondering if she would be able to steer the conversation back to the kittens, where the focus was on Gracie. “I’m not surprised,” she added, without giving proper thought to it. For the first time, a hint of nervousness slipped into her expression, but she could provide a number of perfectly sensible reasons that did not deserve that level of leer from Gracie, so she should be alright.

She had been happy not knowing. It wasn’t particularly in keeping with her general opinion, but in some instances the bliss of ignorance was much preferable to the embarrassment of knowing, especially if the discovery was likely to be followed by embarrassing questions and comments. Ugh. This was worse than when – no, it wasn’t worse than that, because nobody else had known about that apart from Rick. And presumably – no. No.

Sadly, she couldn’t even rely on Raine to be helpful, so she searched for something to say that was relatively neutral and hopefully (hah!) would allow her to change the subject as quickly as possible. “Well, he’s doing something for charity,” she offered, taking a sip from her cup to imply that the new topic was insignificant to her. Or at least not likely to result in a strongly worded letter to the man in question, because really? A calendar?