On Monday morning, two days after Christmas day, Daphne Greengrass and I were already in the foyer of the Davis' home. They had opened their floo network in their living room fireplace to allow us to travel to their home quickly.
Daphne arrived only a few moments after I did, coughing and sweeping the dust off her clothes. She held a travelling suitcase in her hand.
"Ugh," she exasperated. "I can't believe I just did that."
"What's wrong?" I asked, amused by her lopsided frown.
"The floo network is so messy," she said, coughing again. "Now my outfit is all dusty..."
Daphne was wearing a violet set of robes, a sheer white-rosed headband, and ivory white gloves.
"Oh, come on, now. The floo network was quite revolutionary for its time," Tracey reasoned, smiling mockingly. Daphne grimaced.
"Yeah, for its time," she scoffed, still removing dust from her robes. "What year was that anyway? The 14th century?"
"The 13th century, actually," I chimed in, trying not to laugh.
"My point exactly," Daphne said.
"Well, sorry that I didn't bring you here in a white-horsed carriage," Tracey rolled her eyes playfully at Daphne, who smirked at that comment.
"Well, that's a start. Write that down in case you can't think of anything better next time," she said, an amused smile tugging at her lips. I couldn't stop myself from laughing.
"Daphne Greengrass, your majesty," I added with a curt bow. She nodded, picking up her skirt as she momentarily bent her knees.
"M'lady," Daphne said politely.
"Oh dear," Tracey facepalmed, though she could not suppress her grin. "Enough with the antics. My mother is in the interior garden, tending to her precious flowers — did I tell you she's obsessed with plants? Well anyway, she wants to meet you both. Right this way."
Right outside the foyer was a long hallway lined with wooden-framed portraits and various types of vines growing around, most sprouting beautiful and dainty white flowers. The walls were beige with tall wooden baseboards and wooden trims. Every door and doorframe was of that same crispy brown colour. It felt like we were crawling through the home of an interior designer squirrel or of a forest pixie, only human-sized.
Tracey led us to a door with a sunset-coloured window pane. The floor and walls around were splattered with bright auburn and fiery colours due to the light seeping through the translucent glass.
Beyond the door was the bespoke interior garden. The atmosphere was even more endearing to me than the Hogwarts Greenhouses: greenery everywhere, but especially flowers; Bright and colourful flowers just as many as dark and mysterious ones; leaves and vines hanging from the ceiling; a long wooden table at the center where Tracey's mother was leaning over a bright green plant with many stems at the tips of which it looked like it had mouths.
"Welcome, girls," the woman said absent-mindedly. "This is a Venus flytrap. Also known as a dionaea muscipula. Carnivorous plants, they are. Now, this one, I've been training to eat more than just bugs, as they typically do."
"Not flesh, I hope," Daphne said, frowning.
"Well..." Tracey's mother trailed off. She gently cleared her throat.
The woman suddenly lifted her head up, displaying her sun-kissed and radiant face. Her resemblance to her daughter Tracey was striking. "Allow me to introduce myself, my dears. I am Helen, as you know, Tracey's mother."
"Pleasure," Daphne said. "I am Daphne Greengrass."
"Maeve Blackwood."
"So lovely to finally acquaint you both. Tracey always speaks so fondly of you all," Helen said. She stood up, revealing her washed-off jeans with dragon-hide kneecaps. She also wore a beige apron over her long-sleeved shirt and gardening gloves.
"Likewise," I said.
"Now, I suppose I've taken enough of your time. Very pleased to meet you both. Tracey, lunch is at noon," Helen said gracefully. She beamed, revealing the deep creases in the corners of her eyes.
"Thanks, Mum," Tracey said, guiding us both to the door.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Davis," Daphne said.
"Helen is fine," she responded quickly.
"Very nice to meet you, Helen," I added.
"See you later, girls," Helen said as we exited the interior garden.
Our next stop was Tracey's bedroom in the attic. The wooden slanted ceiling had colourful flowers growing from coily stems with circular leaves. A window on the slanted ceiling opened up to the bright sun-lit sky. There was snow blocking out a portion of the view, however. The furniture in the room was made of wood and gave off a similar Earthy and flowery vibe as the rest of the house. Tracey sat on her green linen bedsheets and invited us to sit with her. Daphne put her suitcase next to mine on the ground before following suit with me.
"I cannot believe this is our first time here," Daphne said, amazed as she looked around the room. There were watercolour paintings of flowers and nature, all of which were framed with orangey-golden wood. "What's this?" Daphne suddenly pointed at an abstract-looking painting with three faces, each a different shade of skin colour.
"It's uhm," Tracey laughed uncomfortably. "Well, it's... us."
"It's us?!" I asked, bemused.
"Yeah... I mean, I painted it last summer. I was bored, I reckon," Tracey said sheepishly.
I walked up to the painting with Daphne to inspect it closely. Discernably, in the painting, there was Daphne, laughing, her signature strawberry blonde hair on her pinkish beige skin, next to Tracey in the middle with her beautiful kinky black hair and ebony skin — and next to Tracey was me... Dark and curly big hair with my light brown skin. We were in a sort of embrace, laughing and having a good time in the painting. My heart melted a little.
"That is so..." I trailed off.
"Beautiful," Daphne said in awe.
"It's marvelous," I added.
Tracey grunted an awkward "Thanks."
"I didn't know you painted," I admitted, turning back to Tracey, who was scratching her neck nervously.
"Yeah, well, it's nothing," she dismissed quickly. "Just something I do when I am bored. And well... I started last year."
"I love it," I said earnestly. "You should paint something for my room too. Something like this. It's great. Truly."
"Me too. I would adore that," Daphne agreed, beaming.
"Okay, but enough talking about that right now," Tracey said, her cheeks slightly red.
"Don't be embarrassed!" I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone.
"I — Please, I feel too weird being complimented like this right now. Truly... Thank you, but let's move on. I beg you," Tracey said desperately. I laughed softly and nodded, thinking about how adorable she was right now.
"Well, anyway. It's great to see that you care about us enough to paint us," Daphne said. Her otherwise pale cheeks were visibly red, too.
Tracey looked like she was fighting demons inside.
"Okay, moving on for real now," Daphne said, putting her hands up in surrender. Tracey exhaled.
"Right, well, this is my room," she said, gesturing at everything except her paintings.
We hung out in Tracey's room for a while, mostly talking and catching up on what we did over the holidays so far. I cringed as I told them about my weird Malfoy interactions at the Malfoy Yule. Daphne could not hold back on her laughter during my entire explanation.
"That is hilarious," she said, still giggling over the whole ordeal. "I mean, he so fancies you, Maeve. It's so obvious. Malfoy wasn't looking to berate you in his bedroom, there. He was looking to confess."
"Oh. Ha. Ha." I said sarcastically. "I really hope you don't mean it when you say he fancies me. It's kind of all I've been worried about recently."
"Oh, please, Maeve," Tracey said, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. "Malfoy fancying you is better than actually despising you. You see the way he treats the Weasleys?"
"I would argue that he treats me similarly now," I said with a faint chuckle.
"Well, maybe so. But I think that if you follow my advice from last time and you know... Lead him on... You could plot the perfect revenge on him," Daphne said, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
"That's so cruel, though," I said, pondering over the proposition nonetheless.
"Exactly. He's cruel to you. Be cruel back," Daphne insisted.
"You know, I actually thought that he and Pansy had something going on, though?" Tracey added, a faint look of concern on her face.
"Yeah, it wouldn't be right by her if I did that," I said.
"Huh," Daphne replied in realization. "I guess she does seem like she's into him."
Daphne had her thinking face on. Her pink lips were pursed to the side and her large green eyes gazed up at the ceiling in wonder.
"Well, then, let's just slowly distract her with someone else possibly more interesting — surely one of the S4s — Maeve?" Daphne suggested.
I laughed.
"Okay, well, I don't know if they'd even be interested," I admitted with a wry smile. "Although... No, that's a stretch."
"What?" Daphne said.
"Well, maybe Wyatt Nye. But we'd really have to try to pair them up. I don't even know if Wyatt is capable of human emotion," I clarified, shaking my head.
"Well, can't be as bad as Millicent. I mean, even she has the hots for You-Know-Who," Tracey said, raising her eyebrows as she recalled that confession from the day we played Truth Or Dare.
"Well, all I'm hearing from Maeve is that it's possible," Daphne said with a satisfied smirk. "Now, all we have to do is figure out how to make them fall for each other."
"Amortentia, Maeve? You could brew it, no?" Tracey interjected. I blinked.
"Er, I suppose I can, but—"
"Great, so we can just make them fall for each other under a love potion," Daphne beamed, nodding in approval.
"Hang on, I don't even know if I am on board with flirting with Malfoy and whatnot — that's too awkward. Besides, Amortentia loses its effect after a bit, suddenly making all the feelings disappear. I don't want to have to brew it every night and administer it to them every day."
"So, then, what do we do? Isn't there a potion you could make that would make someone fall in love forever?" Daphne insisted. She looked at me intently while Tracey looked uncertain.
"No. Not that I know of, at least," I admitted.
"How about that transformation potion? The one you told me about. It turns you into someone else?" Daphne persisted.
"Polyjuice potion?" I tried.
"Yeah. We could use that, and you could pretend to be Pansy — or I could. I don't mind — and just be flirty and coy with Wyatt Nye, and then maybe that'll draw his attention to Pansy, and he'll pursue her, and she'll inevitably find him interesting — I mean, come on, he looks like a tall Draco Malfoy from behind."
"Blimey, that is absolutely outrageous, Daphne. I don't know how you're coming up with those ideas," I laughed. This was getting a bit too ridiculous, even for me.
"I reckon we stay clear of potions for now," Tracey suggested, shaking her head at the ideas that Daphne was conjuring up.
"Fine, but Maeve, I'm telling you. Messing with Malfoy like this could be a lot of fun," Daphne said in a sing-songy voice.
"And minding my own business could be as well," I replied in the same sing-songy voice. "Although... Maybe if I were more civilized with him, things would be easier — But it's not like I can apologize to him. He would see right through me and know I'm up to something."
"I doubt it. Sometimes, people will just believe what they wish to be true," Daphne shrugged. "Oh — I just got it!"
"What?" Tracey and I said in unison.
"We could just host romantic balls of some sort in the common room. I mean, it's a splendid idea. Just talk about Pansy to Wyatt, and maybe we'll have a dance thing where she has to pair up with Wyatt and you with Malfoy—"
"You are absolutely sold on this idea of tricking Malfoy," I said with a big sigh.
"Don't you just want to save Pansy from Malfoy, though? I mean, you know she deserves better," Daphne insisted.
"That girl sure is determined," Tracey said, her brow furrowing ever so slightly with concern. "But I have to agree. We could do this for Pansy."
"So all of a sudden, this is about helping Pansy and not plotting revenge on Malfoy?" I inquired. Daphne chuckled awkwardly. "I'm in. But don't even think about pairing Malfoy and me together. I'd rather seek revenge on him by making his entourage leave him. And I suppose that starts with Pansy."
"Oh, marvelous," Daphne enthused, shaking with excitement. "Let's get to planning this ball."
Whatever I imagined my evening with Tracey and Daphne would look like was not in the backyard throwing snowballs at each other. Or maybe I did expect this. After coming up with an unelaborate plan, playing Cupid with Daphne and Tracey, we got so bored that we marveled our way out into the backyard and started playing with the beautiful white snow.
The snow was perfect. It was malleable and soft enough to be turned into any shape we desired without melting. It was dusk already after a couple of snowball fighting rounds, and Tracey's mother was calling us for supper.
We entered the Davis' home, covered in snow from head to toe in our winter gear. Tracey's mother helped clean and dry us before we finally ate together at the round wooden table in the dining room.
"So, girls," Helen Davis began as we munched silently on the food. "What have you three been plotting upstairs earlier? I thought I heard something about a ball?"
"Oh," Tracey said with a small giggle. "Well, we have been thinking of hosting a Slytherin ball soon. We're trying to help two people we know fall in love."
"I see," Helen said, nodding, almost impressed. "I do advise you to be careful when meddling in other people's love affairs, my loves. Sometimes, people don't like having their love lives manipulated."
"Oh, it's not manipulation, Mum. We're just... gently pushing them into realizing they're meant for each other," Tracey assured her with a dismissive wave of the hand.
"Alright," Helen said, unconvinced. "If you say so, Pumpkin."
"PUMPKIN?"
Daphne had been laughing about it since we entered Tracey's attic bedroom.
"Please," Tracey rolled her eyes. "I bet your parents have worse pet names."
"Nope," Daphne said. "Pumpkin."
And she went back to giggling over the word.
"Oh, bugger off." Tracey was now annoyed.
"You heard the boss," I said, ushering Daphne towards the exit.
"Hey!" she protested. I laughed, allowing her back in.
"My mum said it's time for bed, not time to dawdle," Tracey clarified. Daphne raised her hands up in the air in surrender. "You know, you really drive me nuts sometimes, Daph. Merlin."
"Yeah, I know," Daphne said, repressing a smile as she nodded.
Earlier, Tracey's mother had conjured extra mattresses for Daphne and me to sleep on the floor next to Tracey's bed. We had now turned off the lights and properly prepared ourselves for bed. I stayed snug in my blankets while Daphne, who said it was too hot, had her arms and torso out of the sheets.
"What do you reckon will happen in the upcoming year?" Daphne whispered through the dark.
"I dunno. My mum says Mercury will enter Aquarius," Tracey whispered back.
"What does that mean?" I asked in the dark.
"I dunno," she admitted.
"The next full moon is on January 27," Daphne said.
"And what does that mean?" I shot through the dark again.
"I dunno. Maybe tidal waves?" Tracey tried.
"Oh," I said.
"Do you think the moon is trying to tell us things sometimes?" Daphne asked.
"I dunno," I said.
"Why do you think that?" Tracey queried.
"I dunno. Sometimes, it's like she's talking to us. You know, through the water?" she expanded. I could not see Tracey's facial expression in this darkness, but I just knew she was giving me one of those what-the-hell-is-she-talking-about faces.
"Like... Did you ever notice that the fish in the Black Lake swim extra fast during full moons? And there are more bubbles swirling around. We can see it in the common room windows. I think I saw a mermaid once — or, I suppose, merman."
"I thought seeing mermaids was just a rumour started by older students to mess with first years," I said, dumbfounded.
"I thought so, too, but I randomly saw one two months ago. A mermaid — merman, I don't know. He looked different than how our textbooks described mermaids to look like."
"How did he look like?"
"I don't know. Just handsome, I guess? He wasn't slimey-looking or ashy like in the textbooks — he looked like a person with a fishtail. I didn't see his face, but he was white with dark hair."
"That's very odd, indeed. Maybe the Black Lake holds more secrets than we think," Tracey said. "There could be millions of mermaid colonies that we don't know about. You know, wizards and mermaids don't really have a strong relationship with each other."
"I saw something once," I said. "It's not a mermaid, but it was like a glowing blue fish."
"That sounds interesting. I wish I had seen something like the two of you have," Tracey said.
"I wish I could swim in there at night," Daphne said, seemingly mesmerized by the idea.
"I second that," I said.
"Me too," Tracey added.
Before we knew it, we were already drifting off to sleep, merely imagining what the future had in stock for us. I dreamt of water, clouds, and snow, all swirling and dancing together. I was living the thrill of flying in the sky on my broomstick. Then, I hit a dark cloud, and it struck me, and I fell through multiple clouds of snow until I fell into the Black Lake. A merman was suddenly swimming around me. He looked like Ivy Law's friend, Romeo. I was drowning, but when I would try to speak to call for help, water seeped into my throat until I woke up coughing.