the-al-chemist - Tumblr blog

[the-al-chemist]

Might have a little something in the works… Details to follow.

[the-al-chemist]

@lgbtqcreators creator challenge | book covers

TEEN MOVIES INSPIRED BY CLASSIC LITERATURE

[the-al-chemist]

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday! As you've written a fair bit about Charlie, I'm sure you've thought a lot about dragons by proxy. Are there any headcanons/ideas you have about dragons in your world (that Charlie is likely to talk about at length to people)? - @hphmmatthewluther

Well, look who is here asking me about things that I love to talk about. Dragons? Yes please. Charlie Weasley? Even more yes please.

So, I had a good think about dragons when it came to Learning to Fly. I’m a stickler to canon, so I knew I wanted them to be completely wild animals, but I needed to have Norbert(a) able to interact with Charlie. So, I based my “characterisation” of dragons on a few things, some of which made it into the story, some of which remained unpublished.

Until now.

I’m so sorry, you hit my nerdy/hyperfocus spot. This is such an essay of a response. I’m leaning into it with picture examples and everything…

Anatomy/Physiology

Firstly, I used birds as an inspiration. This is an obvious one, sort of. Generally, you have two different dragon appearances in recent western fantasy: either they have four legs plus a pair of wings or their wings are their front limbs. In the Harry Potter films, they use the latter. It’s less cute, but makes more sense in terms of them actually being able to fly.

All the terms I used to describe Norbert(a)’s body parts were anatomical terms for these body parts in birds, e.g. the keel. The keel is the breastbone, and in birds the muscles used for flight all attach here in order to keep the centre of gravity low on the body for flight. There are tendons that then extend up through a loop of bone and act as pulleys for their wings, the bones of which are actually very similar to our own arms, if you look closely.

As well as their flight mechanisms, birds have a bellows system of air sacs that I wanted to borrow for my dragons. Birds use these for respiration (think about oxygen at high altitudes during flight), but for my dragons, they have another purpose. Because, what else needs oxygen? What is it that dragons are most famous for? What is responsible for those burns on Charlie’s arms?

Fire.

I am not much of a reptile expert, so I didn’t take much in the way of inspiration from reptiles when writing about my dragons. I do, however, have the headcanon that, like all reptiles, dragons are cold-blooded. Most physiological adaptations have more than one purpose, and so, my dragons don’t just use fire for hunting and defence purposes — they use it to keep themselves warm. They produce the flames in their thorax, where there is a good oxygen supply and the blood can be warmed easily due the proximity to the heart, and the muscles and thick bone of the keel are able to protect it.

Behaviour

I used more elements of dog behaviour when writing Learning to Fly than anything else, for the simple reason that it is the animal body language I understand best and that I thought most readers would understand best. However, I would argue that dragons are far more like cat species than dogs in regard to their behaviour, so I included some cat-like tendencies as well.

Dogs are social creatures, and most of their behaviours have evolved in order to maintain order within a pack. They hunt in packs, roam in packs, raise offspring in packs. Other than lions, cats are usually solitary creatures, only joining together as adults to mate. There are exceptions, of course, but this is usually the rule. The same goes for dragons, from what we see in canon. Therefore, their behaviour will largely be based on avoiding conflict in order to avoid injury to themselves, and on solitary hunting. I did put this in with Norbert(a) — in one of the final chapters, she engages in play behaviour by mimicking hunting, like a cat.

I also took a lot of inspiration from orcas, mainly in respect to the ethical arguments surrounding their captivity. If you haven’t seen Blackfish, you should definitely do so. I headcanon dragons to be immensely powerful and intelligent beings with wide roaming ranges, who do not cope well in captivity. In canon, it is known that dragons are too dangerous to keep as pets, and judging by the treatment of the Gringotts dragon, the ones that are kept in captivity do not lead happy and fulfilled lives.

I have written several times that dragons kept in captivity suffer from severe impairments to their physical and emotional health, to the point that they have reduced length of life as well as quality of life compared to their wild counterparts. Most of that has been in the form of dialogue from Charlie.

Three guesses what is the thing he really won’t shut up about…

[the-al-chemist]

Kate:

Me:

having an oc you havent drawn / written about publicly yet that only exist as a concept is so funny. i have special access to this limited edition guy from my brain

[the-al-chemist]

There should be a fanfic writing game called the showrunners challenge where someone writes a story and partway through someone else can play things like "actor leaves after 4000 more words" or "topic now too politically sensitive due to unforeseen world events" or "lost rights to that reference"

[the-al-chemist]

Not Alone At Last

A/N: I’ll admit, I’ve gone a little off the rails from the original prompt @drinkyoursoupbitch gave me.

However, the idea it sparked was too much fun to not run with it. So, here we are again. Also, I’ve missed Rowan. Haven’t we all?

Warnings: potentially triggering for mothers of toddlers prone to tantrums…

The Khanna family tended to keep themselves to themselves. It wasn’t often that they ventured far from their farm, let alone as far as London. Every time that they did, Rowan Khanna was struck by how different the city felt from the countryside. She was used to peace and quiet, to rolling green fields, acres of trees, to birdsong echoing in the otherwise silent air.

Diagon Alley was not quiet or peaceful at all. It was always busy and bustling, filled with noise and colour and people. Today, it was busier than Rowan had ever seen it; it was not just bustling, it was heaving. To think, she had been looking forward to coming and buying all her school supplies. Now, several hours into shopping, she couldn’t wait to go home, back to her solitary comfort zone.

It seemed like she wasn’t the only one. Her two younger siblings had also grown tired of the whole experience. Baby Ela had been grizzling for the past hour, and little Ashok was well past the point of being bribed with the prospect of an ice cream from Florian Fortescue’s. When they both started to cry simultaneously in Potage’s Cauldron Shop, even Rowan’s mother looked like she might join in with their collective chorus of tears.

“How much do we have left to do?” she asked Rowan, balancing Ela on her hip and bouncing her gently in one arm, whilst running the fingers of her other hand through Ashok’s hair. Neither of them was soothed by these gestures.

Rowan pulled out the list of school supplies. “There isn’t much more we need. Just my uniform and the books.” She tried not to look disappointed as she realised that they would have to rush their visit to the bookshop, the thing she had most been looking forward to. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

“No, you’re right. Right.”

Mrs Khanna nodded decisively, and put baby Ela back into her pram. Ela immediately redoubled her efforts at screaming, and Ashok, apparently encouraged by his younger sister, threw himself down onto the ground and started to thrash with all four of his limbs. Rowan’s mother closed her eyes and sighed loudly, deeply.

More than ever, Rowan wished that she was in her bedroom with Fuzzclaw the cat and her books. She could hardly bear to look at her mother and two siblings, and yet, she felt as if everyone else in the shop was looking at them. She took a moment to glance over her shoulder at the other customers, hoping that none of them were too annoyed by the scene her family was making.

Her eye was caught by a girl waiting in the queue to buy a school-regulation pewter cauldron. The girl must have been around the same age as Rowan, to have been buying school equipment, but she looked younger. She was tiny, far shorter than Rowan, and skinny, too, but she did not look at all intimidated by the size of the crowd around her. She was wearing Muggle trousers that were too big for her and a t-shirt that was too small for her, and she fidgeted incessantly as she waited for her turn to approach the shopkeeper. With her scrawny frame, her tangled hair, and her wide eyes, she had a wild, rangey sort of look that reminded Rowan of one of J.M. Barrie’s Lost Boys, or Rudyard Kipling’s Mowgli.

But, it wasn’t the girl’s scruffy appearance or her similarity to any beloved book character that had drawn Rowan’s attention. The reason she had noticed this particular girl in the crowd was due to one thing, and one thing only: the girl was alone.

Rowan was used to being alone, she spent most of her time alone, and yet she had never considered that she might be able to go to Diagon Alley without anyone else. But, if the girl in the queue could do it, why couldn’t she?

“Maybe you should take Ashok and Ela home, Mum,” she said. “I can get the rest and Floo back after.”

Her mother blinked. “And leave you here all by yourself?” She did not look convinced.

“I’ll be going to school all by myself in a few weeks,” Rowan reasoned. “I’m sure that I’ll be able to manage getting some uniform and going into a bookshop without any help.”

“It’s not help you need in a bookshop, sweetpea, it’s supervision. Especially with my Galleons.”

Even Rowan had to admit that her mother had a point. She felt her cheeks grow slightly warm at the truth in her words. Mrs Khanna still looked dubious, but more of the other customers were now looking at the still-screaming Ashok and Ela, and that was probably why she agreed to Rowan’s idea. With Rowan’s shopping bags loaded on the back of Ela’s pram, and the rest of the shopping money safely hidden in Rowan’s pocket, Mrs Khanna left with her two youngest children.

And, just like that, Rowan was alone.

Rowan had always enjoyed her own company. She had spent most of her childhood as an only child, living in the countryside with only her parents and her cat. She had never had any real friends of her own, only the characters from her books. And she hadn’t minded that one bit.

Still, it was different to be alone and friendless in one’s own room than it was to be alone and friendless in the real world. It was for that reason that Rowan went to Flourish and Blotts before anywhere else. Nothing that bad could result from spending time surrounded by books.

Flourish and Blotts was the biggest bookshop that Rowan had ever seen, far bigger than the largest bookshop in Bales-On-Wye. There were several levels, with balconies overlooking the main shop floor and bookshelves that extended all the way up into the rafters. It would have been heavenly, were it not for the crowds. Unfortunately, the sheer number of people filling the space with their bodies and their noise made it more stressful than any bookshop should have been.

But, of course, Rowan was alone. That meant that she could do whatever she wanted. So, she slipped into a corner of the bookshop that was empty, tucked away behind a stack of acid green books bearing the title: Cursed By Name, Cursed By Nature. Hidden amongst the shelves, she sat down on the floor, reached into her pocket and took out her own book, the one she had been reading for the past few days, and was already over halfway through.

She didn’t know how long she had been reading for, but by the time she was nearly at the end of her chapter, she became aware that she was no longer alone. Someone else had joined her in her not-so-secret hiding place. Rowan recognised the newcomer almost immediately; it was the fidgety, feral-looking girl who had been standing in the queue at the cauldron shop. However, the girl no longer looked so indomitably independent as she had when Rowan had spotted her earlier.

The girl was flicking through one of the lurid green books, her lips silently mouthing words as she read, and her eyebrows furrowing deeper with each page. After a few minutes, she slammed the book closed with such force that dust billowed into the air above it, and screwed her eyes closed as if she were in pain.

Rowan eyed her cautiously. She had always been shy - or she had presumed herself to be shy, as she had never had much opportunity to tell if she was shy or not - but the girl was clearly distressed. And, she was alone. If Rowan didn’t offer her some help, who would?

“Are you okay?” Rowan asked. Her voice came out quieter than she had thought it would, but the girl must have heard her, because she opened her eyes. She looked surprised at the sight of Rowan looking at her, as if she wouldn’t have thought anyone would notice her being there.

“I’m…” The girl paused. “I think I am. Yeah.”

She may have thought that she was okay, but she did not look okay. She was still frowning, and her hands trembled slightly. Rowan tilted her head to one side.

“It’s so busy and noisy, isn’t it? I had to come and get some quiet, too. Are you here by yourself?”

Rowan knew that the girl was there by herself, but she hadn’t answered any of her other questions, and she didn’t know what else to ask. At least this got a response. The girl nodded, so quickly it was almost like she was twitching.

“Yeah, my mum hates crowds. I thought I’d be fine buying everything by myself, but…”

The girl’s voice tailed off, and she looked down at her feet, the toes of which could be seen wriggling against the ends of her trainers. Even with her eyes cast downwards, Rowan could see the colours in them. They were hazel, with mingled shades of olive and brown, like the bark and moss of the trees at home, and a distinct ring of green around the pupil, like a cat. Rowan had always felt at ease in her family’s orchards, and she had always adored cats. She couldn’t help but like this girl, as unforthcoming as she was. She couldn’t help but feel that this girl might just be the friend she had never had, the friend that she hadn’t even known that she wanted until this very moment.

“I’ve just finished this chapter,” Rowan told the girl. “I could help you pick out your books, if you like. And I’ve still got my robes to buy, if you wanted to do that together, too? I’m guessing your a first year like me.”

It was nerve-wracking, trying to get someone to be your friend. Rowan wasn’t sure she was doing it right. But then, the girl smiled. She had a nice smile, friendly and somehow full of mischief.

“I am. And I would,” she said. “Thanks.”

Rowan smiled back at her, before realising that she hadn’t even told the girl her name yet.

“I’m Rowan, by the way. Rowan Khanna.”

“I’m Artemis. Artemis Hexley.”

Should Rowan shake her hand? Probably not. She rose to her feet, and Artemis rose to meet her. They stood facing one another, each matching the other’s postures as if they were in a mirror, as if they were friends already.

And, just like that, Rowan was no longer alone.

[the-al-chemist]

[the-al-chemist]

Please, Sir, can we have some more soup?

OH SHIT

Is it World Building Wednesday already??

[the-al-chemist]

What do you think was REALLY in the Witch Weekly magazine?

I'd like everyone to know that, canonically, there was a period of 10 years in which Wendy thought muggle babies were indeed delivered by a stork.

She knew where wizard babies came from. That's obvious.

But muggle babies...

[the-al-chemist]

Your cat is the cutest!!!!

I’m biased, but… yeah, he is!

(Ft the scab on his nose from picking fights with cats that actually have all their legs)

[the-al-chemist]

Claiming and Prompt Ideas

Thinking about creating for the HPTV Network Fest and don't know what to write? You're in luck! The mods of the HPTV Fest have come up with some ideas for you. If something strikes your fancy, simply fill out the Claiming Form by 17 June! (Multiple people can write about the same reality TV show or trope! Each work will be unique!)

Pimp My Broomstick

Madam Malkin's Next Top Model

Made in Hogsmeade

Keeping Up With the (your favorite wizarding family here)

19 and Counting with (your favorite wizarding family here)

The Real Housewives of Diagon Alley (or Wizarding Britain!)

The Dragon Wranglers of Wales

Wand Wars (Robot Wars but for duelists)

House Elves' Kitchen (Kreacher is Gordon Ramsay)

Survivor: Forbidden Forest

The Potions Apprentice (Snape)

The Gringotts Apprentice (Griphook)

Who Wants to be a Galleonaire?

Dance Moms for Purebloods

Undercover Boss: Barty Crouch at Hogwarts

The Simple Life: The Black Sisters

Gilderoy Lockhart's Wizarding Eye (fashion goes from tragic to magic)

The Bachelor, Bachelorette, Golden Bachelor with your favorite character

Storage Wars: Knockturn Alley Edition

Say Yes to the Dress Robes

Dancing (Quidditch) With the Stars

Cash in the Attic (but Mundungus is stealing)

Long Island Medium hosted by Trelawney

Wizarding Britain's Supernanny Meets Draco Malfoy

Finding Bigfoot/Crumple-Horned Snorkacks by the Lovegoods

Love Behind Azkaban Bars/Love After Lockup at Azkaban

The Real World: Hogsmeade

Aurors (Cops but Aurors)

Big Brother

Death Eater Wives (Basketball Wives)

World's Deadliest Prisons hosted by Sirius Black

Geordie/Jersey Shore (choose your family)

Hippogriff Dynasty (Hagrid family)

The Dragon Whisperer with Charlie Weasley

90 Day Fiancé (your OTP)

Catfish (your BroTP)

The Great British Bake Off hosted by Dobby

Who Do You Think You Are? pureblood edition

Trauma: Life at the ER of St. Mungo's

Dumbledore's Drag Race

Wife Swap (Narcissa and Molly, Petunia and Lily, etc)

My Strange Addiction with your favorite character

Sister Wives but it's Aberforth and his goats

Wizarding TMZ hosted by Rita Skeeter

Crufts (international dog show) but for kneazles

I Want to Marry "Harry" Potter

Haunted House Hunters: Riddle Mansion, Gaunt Shack, Wool's Orphanage

Borgin and Burke's Pawnstars

Married at First Sight: Pureblood & Muggleborn

Extreme Makeover hosted by Walburga's portrait

[the-al-chemist]

Guillermo agrees.

I think, in honor of @the-al-chemist, Ben Copper's left leg has got to go

[the-al-chemist]

The squidge of Wendy’s face 🥺

Making a Magizoologist: #8? - timeskip to sometime in 1993

Well, this wasn't supposed to happen. It probably wasn't the best idea. But it was nice, and Ned was there to supervise.

[the-al-chemist]

I did it.

I finished the first draft for "I am not dead",

I am going to hate editing.

But until them, I am going to stare at it.

Because I did it.

I finally did something.

[the-al-chemist]

WORLDBUILDING TIME!

[the-al-chemist]

Shoreside Conversations

A/N: @drinkyoursoupbitch’s idea to restart Worldbuiding Wednesday was one of her best yet (and she has many great ideas). It’s brought a little fun back into writing, and this little short story has been incredibly fun to work on. Based on this prompt from the First Lady of Soup herself:

Warnings: mild innuendo, severely bad lying.

The spring evening was light but cool, with the sky turning a rosy shade of pink and the crescent moon starting to rise before the sun had finished setting. Outside, a gentle breeze was blowing, but it couldn’t reach the interior of the seaside restaurant where, at a table by the window, three witches were chatting over a bottle of fizzy wine.

The wizarding community of Great Britain had been at peace for almost a year, but Artemis’ friend Penny had only recently returned to England, having escaped to France with her young family when the war first broke out. Penny had always been a social butterfly, and so neither Artemis nor Chiara had been surprised when she had invited them both for dinner at the Italian restaurant that had opened near her family’s beach house in Cornwall less than a week after she had come home.

”It’s just wonderful to see you two again,” Penny told the pair of them, almost breathless over the top of her wine glass. “I’ve really missed you both.”

“We’ve missed you, too.”

“So,” continued Penny. She had that all-too-familiar expression on her face, the one she always had whenever she was hunting for gossip. “What’s new with you?”

Artemis had never known Chiara to be the first in a group to speak up, so she volunteered up a piece of information about her life. “I’ve started a new job.”

“Another one?” Penny’s eyebrows shot up, but she quickly regained her composure. “I mean, that’s good. What are you doing now?”

“I’m a case investigator for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“And? Are you enjoying it?”

“Yeah.” Artemis nodded. “I am, actually.”

She was half-expecting Penny to ask her more questions — more personal questions, at that — but Penny had decided it was Chiara’s turn.

“What about you, Chiara? How is work? How are things with Jae?”

“Work is… busy,” said Chiara, her voice as soft and lilting as Artemis had always known it to be. “But, St Mungo’s have welcomed me back without kicking up a fuss about the whole” — she lowered her voice to the point that she almost mouthed the words — “werewolf issue.” Her lips pursed slightly before she spoke normally again. “And things with Jae are good. Never better, really. Actually, he asked me to marry him last weekend.”

Across the table, Artemis could see that Penny was almost vibrating with excitement.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “Did you say yes?”

Chiara’s mouth curved into a shy smile. “I did.”

Artemis braced herself for Penny’s squeal just in time. A couple at the neighbouring table looked over, clearly concerned, and Artemis shrugged apologetically at them before congratulating Chiara. Penny, apparently too excited to sit still, rose from her chair and half-leapt around the perimeter of their own table to hug their friend. In her excitement, she knocked the handbag she had hung on the back of her chair, causing a tiny glass bottle to fall out of it.

Before anyone had a chance to catch the bottle, it plummeted to the ground and broke with a tiny, high-pitched smash. Immediately, the air was filled with a smell that was overpowering, intoxicating, and overwhelmingly pleasant. Artemis breathed in the scent, feeling both more relaxed and invigorated as she did so. Across the table, Penny’s blue eyes widened into circles and the colour rose in her cheeks.

“Oh, no. Oh, dear.”

“Don’t worry, Pen,” Artemis said. “If anything, the place smells much better now.”

It really did. Whatever had spilled out onto the floor smelt good, at once sweet and salty, smokey and earthy, and…

“Penny.” Chiara’s voice cut into Artemis’ thoughts. She had one palm placed to her nose, and above her hand her usually pale cheeks were flushed and her pupils fractionally dilated. “Is that what I think it is?”

Artemis had no clue what Chiara thought the little bottle had contained, but her suspicions were clearly correct, because Penny nodded her head sheepishly. Chiara sighed, though whether it was out of satisfaction or exasperation, Artemis couldn’t tell.

“Merlin, I haven’t smelt that since sixth year Potions class,” muttered Chiara.

Not having taken Potions classes past her fifth year, Artemis was still none the wiser. “What? What is it?”

“It’s Amortentia.”

“Amortentia?”

Penny shushed Artemis whilst looking over both shoulders.

“It really isn’t what it looks like,” she whispered. Artemis and Chiara exchanged glances.

“I think it matters more what it smells like, to be honest,” said Artemis. “What are you doing carrying a vial of Amortentia around in your handbag?”

“Well, technically it isn’t actually Amortentia. It’s a perfume made with Amortentia. They’re very popular in Paris, you know. I’m actually writing an article about it for the next edition of the S.O.U.P. Quarterly.”

“For the what quarterly?”

“The Society of Occupational Unctioneers and Potioneers. It’s for anyone who works in the potions industry, or in a line of work where potions are needed for use. Actually, Chiara, you may be interested in joining. We are always looking for new members, and…”

“And what about the Amortentia?”

“Oh, I’ve been asked to write a guest piece for the Society journal. It’s the first time, and I’m rather excited about it, actually,” Penny explained. “I thought the perfume would be really interesting to write about, seeing as it’s not such a common thing to see over here yet, but now that the war is over, I’m certain that it will become rather fashionable.” Her eyes had lit up. Perhaps it was because she was talking about her favourite subject, or it might have been the effect of the Amortentia on the floor. “How it works is, they put the Amortentia into the perfume, and when it’s worn it makes the wearer more… Well, you know, appealing.”

By the time Penny had finished talking, her cheeks were pinker than Artemis had ever seen them, and the couple at the next table were paying so much attention to one another that they hadn’t noticed the waiter who was trying to take their orders.

“I think it works, you know.”

The three witches looked across at the couple before silently giggling into their wine glasses.

“Maybe we should all start wearing it,” suggested Chiara. She was clearly joking, but Penny nodded in earnest.

“I have some samples I’m using for the article, you can have them when I’m finished.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“Don’t be silly, it’s no problem at all. I’ll just owl them to you. You too, Artemis.” Before Artemis could protest, Penny continued, “You’ll be glad of them once you meet someone.”

Artemis almost choked on her wine. She composed herself as best as she could before responding, “Yeah. Maybe. Thanks.”

She had assumed that her answer would be vague enough to not arouse attention, but it appeared that she had underestimated Penny Haywood.

“You’ve already met someone?”

“No,” Artemis said quickly. Too quickly.

“Oh, my goodness. Who?”

”No one.” When Penny pursed her lips in blatant disbelief, Artemis sighed. “No one that you’d know.”

“You never know, I might know them,” said Penny. She had a point, Artemis realised. Penny’s list of acquaintances was never-ending. “So, what’s his name?”

There was no way out of this, Artemis could tell. Still, she couldn’t help but scan the room looking for an exit. As her eyes wandered, they happened to land on the name badge of the waiter serving the neighbouring table.

“Mario.”

“Mario?”

”Yeah, Mario.” Artemis nodded definitely. “His name is Mario.”

Penny frowned. “I don’t think I know anyone called Mario. Is he someone you work with?”

“Yeah. Well, sort of,” Artemis corrected herself. Penny was bound to know one of her colleagues — or, if not, she would at least know someone else who did — and she wouldn’t have put it past her friend to ask others about Mario. “He’s a Magizoologist, but he doesn’t work for the Ministry. He lives abroad usually.”

That wasn’t entirely untruthful, and even Chiara seemed half-convinced. Artemis took a sip of wine in order to hide her face behind the glass.

“So, what does he look like?” asked Penny. “Tall, dark, and handsome?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Just your type, then.”

Artemis wrinkled her nose. “Is it?”

“Well, yes.” Penny laughed, but she still wasn’t finished with her interrogation. “So, how long have you been seeing him? Have you talked about the future yet? Are you worried about how it’s going to work out, what with him living abroad and you living here?”

The room suddenly felt very hot. Artemis shuffled in her seat, trying to quench her sudden need for movement. Her chest had tightened uncomfortably, but she hid the sensation by shaking her head and laughing.

“Calm down, Pen,” she said, as breezily as she could muster. “It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?”

“I dunno. I guess I just don’t think the Mario thing is… It’s not very serious. At all. You don’t need to think too much about Mario. Forget I ever said anything about Mario.”

The look on Penny’s face made it clear that she was disappointed, but Chiara smiled gently.

“As long as you’re happy, Artemis,” she said. “That’s the main thing, isn’t it, Penny?”

”Oh, yes. Yes, as long as you’re happy.”

“Thanks.” Artemis put her glass down. “Anyway, Chiara, you’re going to have a wedding…”

It was the perfect distraction. Penny sat up so straight in her seat that her buttocks almost seemed to hover above it, and turned her attention wholly to Chiara. Artemis sat back in her own chair and let the other two women talk, letting the pitter-patter of conversation wash over her. It was familiar and warming to sit and chat with her friends, as long as she didn’t allow herself to think too much about the moments when Rowan would have said something wry and clever, or Tonks something witty and outrageous, if either of them had been there to say anything at all.

By the time she and her friends left the little seaside restaurant, Artemis’ head was fuzzy with the mixture of wine, Amortentia perfume, and thoughts of those who were and always would be missing. She Apparated back to Bill’s house, nestled in the dunes of another Cornish beach, and found Charlie sitting on the sand, setting fire to a small pile of driftwood without even using his wand.

“What are you doing?”

Charlie did not even look up from the driftwood. “I’m making a fire.”

“Without me?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to get back.” Charlie shrugged. “Do you want to grab some drinks and snacks, or have you had enough at dinner?”

Artemis probably had had enough, but she couldn’t see any harm in a little more. She snuck into the house and took a half-full bottle of Firewhiskey, two mugs, and a packet of marshmallows from the kitchen before returning to the beach. Charlie had succeeded in lighting his Muggle fire, and she sat beside him, watching the flames flicker against the indigo backdrop of the sky and sea.

“How were Penny and Chiara?” asked Charlie, as Artemis poured him a glass of Firewhiskey.

“Good.”

“And the dinner?”

“Tasty.” Artemis held out the marshmallows to Charlie in way of an offering, but he declined them with a wave of his hand. She pierced a marshmallow with her wand and held it over the fire, where the flames licked at the sides of it. “It felt strange, it just being the three of us.”

“I’ll bet.” Charlie glanced at her. “You want to talk about it?”

There wasn’t much more to say about it than that, so Artemis shook her head. Charlie nodded his own, and in silence, lay down on his back. Artemis kicked off her boots and let her bare toes dig into the sand.

“Oh, guess what? Jae and Chiara are getting married.”

Artemis had expected some sort of surprise or excitement from Charlie, but he gave her neither. Instead, he only said:

“So, he finally got around to asking her then?”

“Wait, you knew he was going to ask her?”

“Yeah, he’s been planning on it for months. He’s told me about it every time I’ve seen him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

Charlie shrugged. “It wasn’t my news to tell.”

“I guess that’s fair enough,” said Artemis. “Just so you know, if Jae mentions anything next time you see him, I have a new boyfriend called Mario.”

Slowly, Charlie lifted his head from the sand. He turned his face towards Artemis, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“Penny asked me if I was seeing anyone,” Artemis explained. “And I told her I wasn’t, but she could tell I was lying—”

“Shocking.”

“— so I just told her I was going out with a guy called Mario.”

“Of course, that’s what anyone would do in that situation,” said Charlie, completely straight-faced. He propped himself up onto his elbows. “And what did you tell them about this Mario?”

“Not much, just that he is a Magizoologist and that he’s tall and good-looking.” Artemis glanced across at Charlie, who was looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “But it’s not anything serious.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Charlie blinked and shook his head. “And, they believed all of this…”

“I think so? I mean, I changed the subject pretty quickly. Penny was happy to talk about Chiara’s wedding and this soup club she’s joined.”

“A soup club? As in the food?”

“No, it’s for potion people. She’s writing an article about Amortentia for their journal and spilled some on the floor of the restaurant. You wouldn’t believe how much it smelt.”

“I would,” said Charlie. “I still remember when Jae made a cauldron full of the stuff in our dormitory in fifth year.”

“He made that in your dormitory?”

Charlie nodded. “Oh, yeah. Stunk the place out for weeks.”

“I mean, at least Amortentia smells good,” Artemis reasoned.

“True, but it did make for quite a few awkward mornings, if you know what I mean…”

In a way, Artemis wished she didn’t know what Charlie meant, but she couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face.

“What did you think it smelt like?” she asked him. “The Amortentia?”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a very personal question.”

“Good job that we are very personal friends.”

Artemis raised her eyebrows at Charlie, whose lips twitched and eyes looked out over the sea in the distance.

“A few different things, really,” he said. “Sort of like the garden back at home, and a bit like the air after bonfire night, though that might have been because of him setting the bottom of the cauldron on fire. And it smelt like Christmas.”

“Christmas?”

“Hmm. Like pine trees and… marzipan? It was very sweet and a bit nutty.” Charlie glanced at Artemis. “Yeah, it was nuts, alright.”

There was a look of mischief in his eyes that made Artemis roll her own. Charlie laughed softly to himself.

“And you?” he asked. “What did it smell like to you?”

Artemis frowned as she tried to remember the smell of the Amortentia, and found the scent easier to recall than she had thought it would be. It was as if the smell of the perfume had lingered in the air around her all the way back to Shell Cottage, but then, that might have been because of the salty breeze rolling in from the sea, the Firewhiskey in her glass, the leather of her boots discarded on the sand beside her, the marshmallow toasting on the end of her wand.

“I guess it sort of smelt like this.”

Charlie smiled, and Artemis popped her toasted marshmallow into her mouth before lying down on the sand beside him, face up towards the stars.

[the-al-chemist]

🍲 give us that good warm soup

it's Worldbuilding Wednesday, my dudes!