12 December 2011
7pm Monday, dinner, the last week of term
The Great Hall

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god..." Zeta Pepper hissed the panicked mantra as she hurried through the Great Hall's doors, trying to conceal herself behind a pair of Slytherin girls walking too slowly hand-in-hand. She looked like she'd been elbow deep in and afternoon art project, her strawberry blonde hair up in two messy buns and her shirt sleeves rolled all the way up. There was paint on her eyebrow, very green.

In Zeta's arms was something bundled in a bedsheet. It seemed quite lumpy wait, was it smoking? Only a little.

She came out from behind the Slytherins and looked down Hufflepuff table. She didn't immediately see the tiny Tempest Malinov, a delightful first year who very possibly might die. Everyone know how much she loved this thing. Good. Zeta still had time. The commonroom was emptied out so in her panic, she bundled up the shameful mess in a bedsheet and took it with her to dinner. Maybe someone better with a wand could save it?

Zeta skirted along the wall before darting towards Hufflepuff.

   "Zeta, what's that?" asked her friend.

Cringing, Zeta opened the blanket just enough.

   "Bollocks! Is that a violin? Is it...?"

Zeta nodded and chirped weakly. "Yeah. I don't think its going to make it."

12 December 2011
7pm Monday, dinner, the last week of term
The Great Hall

The day started out fantastic. Tempest, a dainty looking, blonde Hufflepuff first year had made her way to the common room with her book bag an hour before the sun was even up. Her cat, a short-haired white and yellow domestic that she named Butters, padded after her. She wanted to get a head start on her potions homework. It was a tricky subject but, combined with herbology, it made for some fascinating study. The two subjects, to her, really went hand in hand. If you didn’t let the plant material mature just so, then the potion would either fall flat or possibly become a dangerous concoction.

Tempest picked a quiet corner in the poofy chairs, sunk down into it and got to work studying. It seemed like it wasn’t long until the rest of the students had come spilling out from their dorms and eat went their own way. Checking her watch, Tempest packed up her homework. Satisfied, she was proud that she had a scroll and a half done and hoped her teacher would be pleased.

Time for breakfast. Tempest waved shyly to a few of her fellow sixth years, one of them she had learned was a redhead named Zeta Pepper. It had been four months and she still had yet to work up the courage to approach the older kids. She could thank her father for passing along the shy gene in her family but it looked like her other siblings hadn’t inherited that particular trait. Looked like the was the only lucky one. Hoorah!

Tempest made her way through the passageway and to the Great Hall without a fuss which was kinda surprising. Climbing onto the bench, she was greeted by the tantalizing smells of french toast, bacon, eggs, sausages and even things that she couldn’t name. The way the food just appeared on the long trestle tables still eluded her and she was curious as to how it was done. Maybe she would solve the mystery this year but if not, she still had six more years to do so.

She piled her plate with french toast, bacon and eggs, dumping a couple sausages. To top it off, she poured herself a cup of orange juice and opened her charms book. The hall was noisy as as the other students talked, yelled and frankly went on with their daily routines. It was the last week before end of term and the beginning of winter break. After pouring some cream in a bowl for Butters, she looked around at the hall in general and felt happy. Hogwarts really was the best school there was.

Soon though, students began filing out for their classes. Tempest stuffed the last of her butter laden toast in her mouth, wiped the crumbs from her hands and gave Butters a scratch behind the ears. Thankful once again that she was allowed to bring him along.

“Go ahead and go do your thing Butters, I’ll be in class all day. I’ll see you hear for lunch.”

Butters let out a soft mew and trotted off, tail lifted high with a hook at the end. She gathered her stuff and went to class. The day went by fast. Charms was great as was transfiguration. History was interesting but herbology was way better. Then it was time for lunch and she has a light lunch of chicken salad sandwiches while Butters has some roast beef chunks.

Resuming classes, her potion’s teacher was indeed pleased that she had finished her homework ontime. Flying was a blast and she zoomed around on the old school brooms. Man did she wish she had a broom of her own. She couldn’t wait till the next school year. She was definitely going to try out for the quidditch team.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was next on her schedule and it was interesting. The rest of the afternoon was a bit more stressful. Transfiguration didn’t go so well and she was grateful when the bell sounded for end of class. She dashed back to the Hufflepuff common room to unwind before dinner.

There was nothing more relaxing to Tempest than playing her violin. Well, that and reading. Opening the case, she sat back to admire the instrument. It was one of her prized possessions that she had brought with her. It had belonged to her grandmother on her mother’s side. One of a few last attachments that she had to one of her grandparents before the second wizarding war. Before she’d had to have her memory obliviated to protect them. Her father had told them the stories about those dark times. She knew what had happened. She was even learning about it in her history lessons.

Tempest played her treasure, losing herself in the soft music in her dorm room. Her fingers stroked the strings lovingly and felt the last of her tension leave her on the last note. She gently, reverently, placed it back in its case and laid it next to her stand by her bed and went down to dinner.

She was halfway through her dinner, chatting with another fellow Hufflepuff first year, a Gryffindor and Butters, when spotted the redheaded sixth year Zeta walking funny and holding a lumpy bundle. She was acting most peculiar but Tempest only gave her a funny look and  turned back to the conversation.

   "Oh, Zeta, what did you do to it. She's going to be crushed."

Zeta looked over her shoulder and then slid onto the bench, holding the shattered and smoldering violin burrito in her lap. It wasn't actually on fire (anymore) but there were still some sizzling bits. She gingerly picked up half of the snapped bow with two fingers.

"Art project. Collage. Mixed media. Found objects," she said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "I flew too close to the son, girl."

   "It's ... fixable..."

Zeta shook her head. "It's massively, completely not. Maybe I can replace it before she finds out?"

   "Before the end of the week?"

A twing noise made Zeta jump. Another string had snapped.

"Call the Aurors. I've committed murder."

Tempest giggled at a joke that the Gryffindor boy as she lifted Butters to her lap. But, for some reason, the young cat didn’t want to stay in her lap. He usually loved laying on her with his little purr engine on high. Instead, he was staring intently at Zeta, trying to get to her. How odd it was. Deciding to trust her cat, Tempest let him go. No sooner had she released him, he made a dash for the red headed sixth year. Tempest excused herself from her small group, following the swishing yellow tail.

Zeta had her back turned to Tempest so the first year couldn’t get a good view of what she was showing the other girl. They were talking in hushed tones and the young first year couldn’t hear the over the noisy students. A whiff of charcoal reached the young girl as she walked up to the girls huddled a little ways down the bench.

When Butters approached Zeta, he started sniffing around her and meowing insistently, looking at the mysteriously wrapped package. Tempest hunched her shoulders the closer she got to the redhead and her friend. Her gaze lowered and she minced her steps. There was very little confidence in her demeanor at the moment. But, she hoped that the other girls would be friendly and not brush her off. Perhaps Butters thought Zeta simply needed help with her strange package.

“H..h..hello, Zeta, is everything alright?” she stammered out. “I..I hope I’m not int..truding. My cat was i..insistent that I...I come over. D..do you need any h..h..help?”

Dang it!! Why did she have to stammer when she was nervous and shy?! Why couldn’t she be like the confident Gryffindors??

Butters! Zeta would have normally been cheered to see Tempest Malinov's strange cat - Zeta loved cats - but at the moment he was a herald of doom. About the moment he showed up, someone elbowed Zeta in the ribs and nodded behind her. Sure enough, sweet Tempest was coming gingerly over.

Zeta's face was a wash of worry, but she quickly tried to hide it with a caring smile as she fumbled to gather up the bundle.

"Tempest, hi," she said too loudly. Oh Merlin, not good.

"No, you're fine, everything's fine. Um, Butters!"

The cat was tugging at the corner of the sheet and in her effort to gently fend him off, another corner slipped loose and everything inside clattered out onto the floor. Everyone around them went silent and dozens of eyes stared at the carnage. It was the shattered remains of a once lovely violin. The neck was in pieces, the strings tangled and snapped, the bow bent in two, and the body was splinted into three. And yes, it looked like it had been pulled from the fire.

Zeta stood up and reached out to the first year. She all but whispered.

"I'm so sorry...! I can explain...!"

Tempest, with her eyes down cast, didn’t catch the horrified look that washed over Zeta’s face as she approached. When she did glance up, all she saw was the caring look that replaced it. Her shoulders relaxed, lowering slowly. She sighed quietly to herself, grateful that the older girl didn’t say anything about her stupid stutter. But, why was her voice too loud when she greeted her?

Butters on the other hand, was acting increasingly acting strange. He kept pulling at the bundle, while Zeta tried to shoo him away. What could be in there? Suddenly, with Zeta distracted long enough, Butters managed to tug a corner loose only to spill the contents of the mysterious bundle out for everyone to see.

The table grew silent as Tempest looked down at the mangled remains of a once  beautifully made violin. She wasn’t the only student to have brought one to school, so the naive first year instantly thought it belonged to one of them. Surely it wasn’t hers. She had place it safely in its case next to her bed.

“Oh, dear Zeta! How sad. You broke your violin. It must be an epidemic going around. It must not be safe to have violins here. It seems they are breaking left and right.”

Tempest chatted on, not really looking at the pieces. She was sad for Zeta. Violins were works of art and should be cherished. To help see if there was anyway of salvaging the pieces without the aid of a teacher, Tempest reached for the pieces. Before anyone could stop her, she had a piece of the body and the neck in each had and was looking it over.
“Perhaps we can fix it. It can’t...be…..hard,” Tempest’s voice fell to a whisper on the last word.

 It was her violin. There, on the body where it wasn’t charred, was the gold leaf design of triple arrows. It was her family’s crest and she would know it anywhere. There was no mistaking the instrument for someone else’s. Tempest’s eyes flew to Zeta’s. Horror filling them.

   The silence was so thick, someone could have cut it with a knife. It felt like it had wrapped its hands around her heart and squeezed. Tempest shook her head in denial, tears welling up and spilling over.

"I'm so sorry...! I can explain...!" Zeta whispered. Was she imploring her? Tempest clutched the pieces to her chest, backing away from the table. Tears tracked down her cheeks. “How...how could you?!” Tempest whispered back. She then turned away  to walk out of the Great Hall.

For a brief moment Zeta lived in the kind reality that little Tempest would take her accidental vandalism in stride. But as the old saying goes, Zeta had to put her glasses back on and face facts: this was a fantasy and there was no winking it away.

She could only watch as Tempest realized what was really happening. So that's what it looked like to crush the pure soul of a wee child. Fascinating.

    "Brilliantly done, Pepper," came a snide voice.

"Shut it," Zeta hissed back and quickly gathered up the broken violin once again.

She hurried after Tempest and called after her in whisper/shouts.

"Good idea! Hey, good idea, let's go somewhere private and figure this out we can just take some of this..." Zeta stopped to grab a basket of chips from the the table over the objections of the Hufflepuff quidditch team.

"We can have a picnic," she said. She didn't fully catch up to Tempest until they were nearly at the Great Hall doors. Zeta did a terrible job of trying to hold the door for her young housemate, encumbered as she was with violin and a basket of stolen food.