HEADLESS BODY FOUND IN LONDON SEWERS
by Elise Barnes

A murder inquiry began late last night after a headless body belonging to 23-year old Wilfred Harrison was found by city workers in the sewers. Officials have stated that the man has been reported only days before by his girlfriend, who had last seen him leaving to buy a cake for their first year anniversary. He never returned home, and after a day of worry, Phoebe Hayes filed a Missing Person Report. Workers are currently searching for the head, but due to the condition of the body, forensic scientists estimate Harrison was killed via poison before being decapitated. There are currently no suspects. 

-An excerpt from the Union Daily, Thursday, August 8th, 1991

-0-

She was laying down in soft, squishy grass soaked with muddy water. Hundreds of millions of tiny bugs buzzed above, like they usually did in this part of Florida. Every time she moved, the ground beneath her made a funny squishing noise that resembled a whoopee-cushion "fart", and the grass squelched in a mildly disgusting way. 

If she were here in person, she'd be covered head to toe in bug bites, mud, and wet grass, but instead, it was all a dream. Ever since the train ride yesterday, she hadn't had any run-ins with Brady, just a normal night of visions. Cape Cod, twelve miles away from Reno, Sonoma County in California, and so many more. Most of them were peaceful, although she had been forced to witness a rather gruesome verbal fight between a tired mother and her hormone-riddled daughter. 

Now, she was just laying in the grass, listening to John Mellencamp playing on the radio as a bunch of kids tried to wash their parent's car. Soap suds floated around her and through her, passing by like she was just a ghost. 

As it should be. 

She could feel herself flashing and sat up as the world around her changed. She was now...in a stone-bricked room, laying in a bed. She tried to concentrate and figure out where in America this was, but her internal radar was useless and said, "fuck it, figure it out yourself."

The window was wide open, the warm morning sunlight streaming through the emerald green curtains that hung by the sides. 

Just a look at the floor was enough to tell her where she was, but morning drowsiness wasn't the best aid to her balance. She peeked over edge of the bed, realized this was England's room at Hogwarts, and fell off the top bunk, all within seconds.   

"Ow!" She yelped, managing to fall on her arms and break her fall a bit. Still, the impact wasn't pleasant. Olivia, Jett, and Artie were out of the room already(probably because they were morning people), leaving Mattie to be the owner of the only pair of ears that heard her cries of pain. 

The Canadian sat up in bed, looking around wildly even though Amelia knew he couldn't see shit without his glasses. "Whaht's going on? Kumasachi, ahre you ahlright?"

Of course he asked about that dumb bear's well-being first. 

"It's me, Mattie, not Kumajiro." She rolled her eyes. "I fell off the top bunk, and it fucking hurts." 

He sighed and flopped back down onto his pillow. Rude! She helped him out when he was hurt! 

"Ahmy, just go bahck to sleep." He mumbled sleepily. 

She stood and grabbed him by the collar of his borrowed nightshirt. "Nuh-uh, you're not falling asleep again. It's already morning, bro, and I bet that if we're not down there soon, the dining hall won't have any food for breakfast."

Saying that did the trick. If there was something Mattie liked more than sleeping in, it was a hot and fresh breakfast. Amelia could tell when he missed breakfast because he was low-energy, a wet blanket, and grouchy. 

"Fine, I'm up. Give me a meenute to chahnge." 

Amelia looked down at herself. She was wearing an old rugby shirt of England's, but it was honestly so much more comfortable than that ugly Puritan dress(it was older than her status as a nation!) that she was in no hurry to change. Screw social norms, she valued comfort nowadays. 

She looked away as Matthew changed into his shirt and pants from yesterday, counting in her head how long he'd take, just so she could tease him if he exceeded a minute. He didn't, but it wasn't like that was the worst opportunity that she'd missed. He walked in front of her and opened the bedroom door. "Lahdies first."

She smiled cheekily. "Why, thank you ever so kindly, good sir." She bowed over-dramatically. He may have had that awful French accent, but she had the colonial age British one. 

Amelia waited for him to close the door and looked around. "Oookay...Do you have any idea where we're going?" The central atrium filled with moving staircases was the only thing she remembered from their trek upstairs last night, and she had no idea where that was or what to do when they got to it. 

Mattie looked as clueless as she felt. He peered around, peeping his amethyst colored eyes over Kumajiro's fur. "To ze left? I sink we cahme frahm zat way lahst night." 

"Alright. If we get lost, I'm blaming you." 

She could almost hear his eye roll. "We wahn't get lahst. Ziss cahstle ees mahgeec, remembair, ahnd eef he needs to, Ahrthur cahn just summahn us ahgain." 

"Ugh, don't remind me. My back still hurts from that." She laughed. "Imagine if he did that with all the colonies. I don't think we could disassemble a mountain of children then." 

He smiled softly and said nothing. It didn't matter that he did, because the look in his eyes was worth a dictionary full of words. While they walked, Amelia trailed her fingers on the edge of the castle. The stone was smooth, so smooth she felt almost no bumps or ridges. These walls felt like they'd been heavily sanded, but not just that, like they were as smooth as a river rock. 

How old was this castle? The construction would suggest the Renaissance, but some parts looked older in areas and newer in others. It was like Rome. They kept building and building upon it, until the city was like an onion and had more layers than one would care to count. 

Matthew was off in his own world, chatting with Kumajiro and stroking the bear's fur. Amelia knew that he talked to the bear whenever he was stressed, but it wasn't like Kumajiro was gonna respond. It was as effective as talking to a stuffed animal, yet Matthew always insisted that it was different. Whatever, it wasn't her bear. 

"Oh my! Two children wandering the halls this early?"

Amelia stopped dead in her tracks and scanned the hallway for whoever could've said that. It was the voice belonging to a middle-aged woman, short probably, a bit heavy-set, and had a nasal edge, indicating nose shape. 

No one fit that description, not even close, because no one but Matthew was with her in the hallway. 

"Who said that?!" Were there any vents? Peeping holes in the wall?

The lady chuckled. It sounded like what noise a dying donkey would make when choking. "Up here, sweetheart."

Amelia looked up at the wall, expecting to see a woman poking out of some sort of vent. 

Nope, it was a sentient, moving painting. 

"Yes, it's me who spoke." The painting confirmed as Amelia's eyes fixed on her. "Oh dear, you look a bit pale. Have you never seen a moving painting before?"

Amelia heard Matthew stop walking, but she kept her eyes focused on the rotund woman dressed in a wine-red renaissance dress and dripping from head to toe in jewels. The painted woman's skin was darkened with age, the protective resin that once was applied to the surface of the painting having yellowed after years of wear and sunlight. Yet even with that yellow sheen covering her whole visage, Amelia could make out all of her defining features. 

All she could do was focus on the small things, like the pattern of the painted woman's dress of the color of the frame. If she didn't, Amelia knew the shock of a talking, moving painting would leave her probably on the ground. It was just illogical. 

Her mind ran through different excuses she could tell herself to justify the moving painting, but they all seemed weak and paper-thin. The logic behind it was that there was no logic, but every part of Amelia's being hated that. No, not hated-rejected. 

"Dear?"

She wasn't going to talk to it. Nope. 

"Come on Mattie, let's go before breakfast is cleaned up." She spun on her heel, grabbed her brother by the shirt, and dragged him away, Kumajiro and all. Matthew made a strange spluttering noise feebly, but he stopped soon enough and resigned to walking beside her. It was better than being dragged, anyways. 

He glanced behind them, at the painting. "Do you sink zat wahs rude?"

"Rude? Maybe. I dunno, painting aren't supposed to move or have feelings or shit. If that blob of oil paint and old resin has a problem with me, there's nothing it can do about it." It wasn't like the painting could exit its frame...could it?

She looked behind them, just to be sure. Nope, no demon paint lady crawling out of her frame to drag them into the abyss. Still, she quickened her pace. "Hurry up, Matt! I'm hungry."

"I am too," he huffed, groaning. "But you try ahnd cahrry Kumahjeeto while runneeng. Eets naht easy." 

Amelia snickered. He was saying this to the girl who could lift houses back in the day just to look for any cool stuff that was buried. "Hand him over then. I'll carry him for a bit, and you can let your noodle arms rest." 

"Zey're naht noodles! You're just unusually buff fahr a cheeld." He argued as he passed over the bear. 

Kumajiro seemed to be fine with the fact he was being transferred to a different human, but Amelia wasn't going to risk anything crazy when she had a polar bear cub in her arms. Even though he was small, Kumajiro could do some serious damage that she did not want to spend several days recovering from. 

"Alright, got 'em nice and secure in my arms. Where do we go next, oh great navigator?" They reached a crossroads of sorts, where a hallway ran perpendicular to their own. Both sides looked identical. 

"Left, I sink. See zat tahrch? Ze wood's gaht red powdair on eet." 

Red powder, from what? A bad attempt at making curry? Some unfortunate kid's make-up compact? A full-blown paintball war in the hallways? She didn't expect the last one to be true, but it was fun to imagine. "Alright, red powder, creepy fat lady painting. Got it." 

"She wahsn't zat creepy." Matthew's energy seemed to be slowly returning now that he didn't have to carry Kumajiro. If the bear was gonna be this much of a burden all year, Mattie was either going to have to invest in a gym membership or find some other way to tote the lazy bear around. 

They came across the staircase room. Perfect. Dozens of staircases made in different styles with different materials connected and disconnected with the landings, like they were robotic arms. Amelia scanned for the landing they needed to go to. 

"Down there, second to the left wall." She pointed. "That's where we need to go, if I remember correctly." 

Matthew peered towards the spot she was pointing at. "Yes. Zat looks right." 

"Great, we're not far. Do you think there's any pattern to these moving staircases or is it fend for yourself?"

Kumajiro wiggled out of Amelia's arms and started walking down one of the newly-connected staircases to a landing below. 

"Zere's our onsair. Quick, let's fahllow heem befahre we lahse trahck of where he ees!" This time, it was Matthew dragging Amelia. He ran after the bear, faster than he'd ever usually go, and Amelia just let her legs carry her wherever he was leading. She found herself often slowing and edging around certain spots on staircases, either because they were slippery, looked suspicious, or had been confirmed as a trap by Matthew when he stepped on it beforehand. 

Whoever built this school liked to mess around with personal safety, that was for sure. Building inspectors would have a field day with how many parts of this place were not up to code. 

Still, they survived and made it to the end. Matthew's ankles were wobbly and covered in several red scuff marks, Kumajiro was unscathed, and Amelia was just out of breath. That was one hell of a work out, both mentally and physically. Alfred probably would be able to clear that without breaking a sweat, but she wasn't him. 

"...Ready...fahr breahkfast...?" Matthew panted. 

She just nodded, too winded to speak willingly. Kumajiro climbed back into her arms, and she carried him to the Dining Hall. 

It looked much different during the morning. The candles suspended above were put out, and light poured in from all the windows(which by the way, were open). The head table at the end of the room had the same assortment of teachers as before, most of which were either chatting or reading papers. 

Jett waved to them from his chair. "Morning! Sleep well?" 

Amelia climbed into her chair and began helping herself to any food that looked distinctly not British. "I think so. My dreams were pretty regular." Her eyes followed Kumajiro as he clambered into Mattie's arms.

"That's good! It was a bit warm last night, so I ended up throwing off my covers." Vee jumped into the conversation. "The bed was really comfy though." 

"It was." Matthew agreed softly. He looked at the table for a bit before finally asking, "Oleevia, do you mind pahsseeng me ze plahte of toast?"

Amelia sat back and ate her food, drowning out the meaningless chatter. It was just boring to listen to, if she was being completely honest. Arthur was chatting away with the other professors, laughing and looking well-engaged in whatever story the old lady with a bun was telling. 

She wanted to talk to someone too, but not just her family. Some kid, or adult, or someone who she could just spend hours with talking about politics or the weather or sports. People like Brady, she guessed.

Damn, he was still on her mind. It was clear just from that train of thought. She shoved a strip of bacon in her mouth and concentrated on the meaty flavor, trying to do anything unnoticeable to get her mind off of her baseball partner. 

So, while she drowned out her fellow nations, she listened in on the teacher's conversation. It had to be leagues more interesting, even if she wasn't supposed to reply or even listen. 

"-understand that Hagrid's been here for decades, but he's not exactly the most delicate man around." The old lady said. "I've had to write over four hundred letters to Harry Potter since Saturday, and according to my sources he has yet to read a single one. Those awful muggles he's living with are preventing him from ever learning about magic." 

Dumbledore wiped the corners of his mouth. "Now, Minerva, we've been over this."

"With all due respect Albus, the boy would've been better off growing up under the care of the centaurs." "Minerva", the old lady, radiated an energy that Amelia could only describe as "I'm not taking any shit from you today". 

The haggard old man beside them chuckled darkly. "The boy is still a target of You-Know-Who no matter where he is." He seemed delighted by this fact, and that alone gave Amelia more than enough reason to avoid the old man. 

"That's bollocks. Harry Potter is practically a national figure. The Wizarding World goes crazy whenever he's mentioned." Arthur seemed annoyed. "They'll protect him at any cost, for he's a beacon of hope for majority of them."

"That may be true, but the Wizarding World has already been fighting You-Know-Who with every resource available. Have you heard about the group of Aurors that went missing a while back? They were the cream of the crop, specially selected by the Ministry, and they died on the first day into their mission." Minerva argued. 

Arthur held back a snicker with a fake cough, a maneuver Amelia knew all too well, since she'd taught him how to do it(He said he learned it beforehand, but that was a load of crap). "The Ministry hasn't been too keen on fighting You-Know-Who ever since Fudge inherited Bagnold's position as Minister. He's denied the return of You-Know-Who since the beginning of his term, and people are willing to listen and believe him because they want to think its true. It's a tactic countless politicians have used in times of fear." He lifted his teacup and drank, satisfied.

"I agree wholeheartedly." Dumbledore said simply. "The Ministry has put nearly no effort into counter measures for Voldemort's-"

Amelia jumped as Arthur began to choke on his tea. "Artie, you alright?"

He swallowed roughly and coughed a few times. "All good, thank you. I just wasn't expecting to hear His name."

Amelia shot a glare at Dumbledore. She didn't really understand why the name "Voldemort" seemed so horrifying to Arthur, but she assumed it was the same reason he didn't like to hear the names of other people who terrorized his populations. 

The headmaster at least had the decency to look ashamed. "Apologies. Arthur, I am a firm believer that by giving into the fear a name is supposed to hold, it only empowers your enemy, and I therefore combat that by making it a point to say Voldemort."

Well, that was...Actually, Amelia didn't have much of an opinion on that. Did magical names give power, or was it metaphorical? If it was metaphorical, she'd have to say that Dumbledore was in the right. You can't give your enemy power by showing fear.

Still, she supposed Artie couldn't help it. A people's fear transferred to the national representative. For example, the Red Scare. Before the Cold War, she just found the Ruskies a bit unnerving and weird. 

But afterwards? 

Her feeling towards them could be described as a mix of a heated rivalry and pure hatred, and she was sure that it wouldn't be that way if her people didn't feel as strongly about the northern nation. 

That being said, Artie having that visceral of a reaction was not good. Yet the old coot went on pretending like everything was fine and dandy. "No, its quite alright. I was simply caught off-guard. Continue, please." Artie was shaking, so no, he wasn't alright.

But apparently, none of any other teachers noticed. They went on with their dumb conversation about Harry Potter, who she'd be spending so much time with this year that she'd probably hear everything they were talking about from the subject of conversation himself. 

She poked the now-cold pile of scrambled eggs on her plate with the tines of her fork. She wasn't hungry anymore. 

"I'm gonna walk around, okay? If you need me, look outside." She announced to no one in particular after some time. She pushed out her chair, wiped her mouth with her nightshirt's sleeve, and walked out of the dining hall to the nearest exit. 

Everything about this stupid magical castle and this stupid agreement made her feel sick. 

If it weren't for Brady, she would still be in LA. 

If it weren't for that stupid drop in his numbers, she would be at home with Chief, watching trashy T.V. and eating frozen pizza. 

If it weren't for Alice's magic, Brady would be dead in four years. 

Good grief, it was like fate was forcing her into this. Some unknown force, whether it be God, Lucifer, or something entirely different, wanted her to agree to this dumb request of England's, and she was sure that this wasn't the end. 

-0-

It took her a good while to calm down from whatever made her so angry in the dining hall. Thinking back, Amelia's guess was as good as any's when it came to what made her angry, be it the fact that Arthur was lying about how he felt about the name "Voldemort" or just the idea of Harry Potter and the magical world she was being dragged into because of him. 

Whatever it was, it was over now. A good, brisk walk to the castle grounds was plenty of time for her to settle her nerves, and now, she was standing on soft grass surrounded by a forest. Seeing as it was the only forest in sight, this was probably the "Forbidden Forest" Dumbledore told them about the night before. 

Maybe if Amelia was with Jett or Al, she would want to venture into its depths and explore what was inside, but today, she wasn't in the mood to do it alone. 

So instead, she just walked along the edge. There was nothing particularly threatening or magical about the forest from what she could see, and the amount of relief that brought her was immeasurable. A safe place away from this magic bullshit would definitely be needed. 

Amelia stopped walking when she saw the lake. It was beautiful in the morning light, not at all like how it looked when they arrived yesterday afternoon. The water looked so inviting.

Fuck it, she was going for a morning swim. 

She veered off course and broke into a sprint towards the lake, not caring about how cold the water was. She'd swum in California in wintertime, a lake during summer in England wouldn't be nearly as bad. 

She jumped as far as she could and folded herself into a cannonball, undoubtedly making a large enough splash to disturb any waterfowl resting on the surface. 

The rush, the energy, the life that the water gave her-it knocked any energy drink out of the ballpark. 

Amelia kicked and broke the surface, gasping for air. The lake was much deeper than she predicted, but that was no biggie. She was a master at treading water. 

She brushed the wet, curled locks of hair out of her face and smiled at no one. This was what she needed. Amelia shifted onto her back and started out with a backstroke, gently drifting across the lake while feeling the warmth of the morning sun on her skin. 

"Man, Jett would kill to swim this. He's an animal when it comes to water sports, no matter if it's water-skiing or the Butterfly stroke. It's insane." She said out loud.

It felt good just to speak, even if no one was listening. Some called her habit "being a chatterbox", but she preferred thinking that she was just talking to the Earth, if there was a representative for it. 

She flipped onto her stomach and dove underwater again, the front side of her body now too dry. She kicked and kicked, swimming deeper into the depths of the lake and trying to see through the murky green water. 

She was probably nowhere near the bottom and would only see a fish, but still, Amelia never swam with her eyes closed. 

And a good thing too, because what she saw in the water wasn't a fish. 

Too bad seeing things didn't protect you from them.

-0-

"-So I use this aerosol spray to give my hair that little pouf that really accentuates my look. It's honestly a miracle spray." 

Olivia was happily conversing with Jett and Matthew about the wonders of commercial products during breakfast. Seeing as there were no major events that seemed relevant or interesting to them, hair sprays made for an excellent topic of light conversation. 

Matthew shook his head in disagreement. "Non. Ze true key to good hair ees ahll een ze tools. A good brush mahkes ahll ze deefference."

As if. Matthew had no idea what he was talking about, even if he'd inherited the Frog's hair. She sent a look at Jett, silently asking for back up, but he paid her no mind. "Meh.  My hair's perfect after a good shower. A little rinse, some soap, and you're good to go."

...Alright, so he was even more wrong than Matthew. She was on her own. That was fine. 

"How about we do this? We get our hair as dirty as possible, then try each other's methods and see what has the best results." She suggested. They'd look so good with just a little but of hairspray. Poofy hair was super stylish for a reason. 

The boys shared a look. Matthew seemed to speak for the both of them when he said, "I dahn't sink ze ahrgument ees wahrth zat, ahnd besides, everyone hahs zeir own preference. Maybe we cahn test eet when we're ahll deerty frahm ceercumstahnce?"

"Yeah! And I-"

Amelia suddenly stood up, pushing back her chair and effectively interrupting Jett. "I'm gonna walk around, okay? If you need me, look outside." 

She left before anyone could respond, walking out of the Great Hall faster than anyone would. 

"-What was that about?" Jett dropped his previous statement for a question, clearly seeing the question as more important. 

Matthew's eyes lingered on his sister. "I hahve no clue. but, eets Ahmelia, so eet's prahbahbly sahmetheeng petty she'll get ovair weetheen ze hour. I'd say we should just leave hair ahlahne ahnd let hair cool off."

"I agree. Amy just needs to be alone." Olivia took a sip of tea. "Anyways, what do you guys want to do after this?"

Jett pointed a thumb at the chocolate frog resting in his hair. "I'm gonna try to find some froggy friends for Henry. Steve's gonna help out, when he finally wakes up." 

She clapped. "Oooh, exciting! What about you, Mattie?" 

He shrugged, staring at no one in particular. "No idea. I may try to talk to some of the teachers, but if they're busy, I'll probably just explore."

"Exploring sounds fun! I want to see all the hidden things that are in the castle." Olivia tapped her bracelet and whispered, "And maybe try some magic." 

His violet eyes widened, and he shot a look at Arthur to check if he'd heard. "No way! You need to wait until they teach us how to use it. Otherwise, something will probably go wrong and hurt you!"

It was comical how much he was overreacting. Olivia waved off his concerns with a grin and tapped the stone on her bracelet. It was loaded to the brim with magic, and if she ran her finger over it, the stone felt warm and smooth. 

"Don't worry so much! If I do use the magic, it'll be a simple spell, I promise." 

"I dunno mate. I think you should listen to Mattie." Jett butted in. However, as quickly as he made a stance, he changed it. "But, it's up to you to listen to me. I can't stop you from using magic." 

In other words, he was trying to look mature and agree with Matthew, but he was secretly telling her that he didn't care what she did. Perfect. 

She finished her sausages quickly, gulped down her juice that was loaded with enough sugar to make America gag, and wiped her mouth. "Then I guess I'll be off then. I want as much time as possible to explore." 

Matthew frowned. "Have fun." It was clear he didn't trust her not to use her magic. 

"See you at lunch!" Jett smiled, scooping his chocolate frog off of his head and attempting to feed it a dead fly he found. The frog stole a cherry tomato from his plate instead. 

"Bye!" Olivia pushed back her chair and ran off, heading towards the empty halls of Hogwarts that were waiting to be explored. 

-0-

The first spot she wanted to check out was the Hufflepuff dormitory, which would be where she'd be hopefully staying for the semester. Only problem was that she had no idea where it was. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had towers named after where their dormitories were located, and Slytherin was famously hidden underneath the lake near the dungeons. But Hufflepuff? They weren't very well known. 

Like that was going to deter Olivia. She tightened her pigtails, pulled up her socks, and went for the next best course of action: finding the Hufflepuff ghost, the Fat Friar. Although he was also not very well known, Olivia had gotten enough tidbits over the centuries to figure out that he was a pretty nice and jovial chap. 

She skipped down the halls, humming to the tune of "London Bridge is Falling Down." Every time a painting waved or smiled at her, she was sure to mirror them. It was polite, after all. 

But then she started get hit from behind on the back of the head. Little hard chunks of something, rocks maybe, flew at her from above and bounced off her head. 

"Ouch!" She yelped initially, whipping around to see who did it. But there was nothing in sight. 

Someone thought that they could harass her because she was small and new and probably didn't know a lick about magic in their mind. Well, two could play that game. 

She forced her eyes to become as large and round as possible, and pulled her lip into a tremble. "I-Is anyone there?" She even added in a shake of the knees to really sell it. 

A resounding cackle echoed from far above her head. Thankfully, that was enough of a warning for her to jump out of the way as a wall sconce broke off and sent a flaming torch right at the spot where she once stood. 

Right then, this wasn't a game. Olivia reached for her bracelet and held it just as Alice instructed. 

"Wrap your index and middle finger around the bead and squeeze. It'll allow you to temporarily do wandless magic, but only use it in dire situations. The method of extraction from the bead is unsafe and can disrupt the natural flow of magic in your body." 

She squeezed and felt a warmth rush from the tips of her fingers to her very core. She yelled, "IMPEDIMENTA!"

The spell for freezing one's opponent. AKA, rendering them immobile until specified. 

The creepy laugh halted in its tracks, and she heard a thud right by the fallen torch. She had enough juice for one more wandless spell, maybe two if she was lucky. 

"Conpareo." 

An ugly, little impish man(if she were to squint, she could honestly mistake him for Northern Ireland) with wicked orange eyes, smooth blue skin, and a jarringly obnoxious orange and red jester costume was frozen before her, arms filled with small stones, chalk, and even dead beetles. 

Olivia knelt down beside him and studied the creature for a moment. This had to be a ghost of some sort, but which type? She wracked her brain for Arthur's long discussions about them during the voyages they used to take across the Atlantic, but her memory failed her. 

For now, she'd assume the worst. 

"Ello. My name's Olivia Kirkland, but I'd prefer if you called me Vee. It seems less stuffy and formal, and honestly suits me much better. I know that you thought you could easily attack me,  but not anymore, huh?"

The ghost didn't move, but she could sense he was harboring some sort of hostility towards her. 

"That's alright, everyone is wrong sometimes. But I don't like it when people try to hurt me. So this is what is going to happen. You're going to promise me that you will not only never try to harm or harass me again, but that you will cooperate and follow through on any direct command I give you from hear on out. In exchange, I'll let you go. Otherwise, there's a lovely lake right outside that I'm sure you could rest at the bottom of for the next few centuries."

Olivia leaned in and whispered, "And trust me love, a century or two locked away in a dark space with no one to talk to and nowhere to move is very...uncomfortable." 

She focused and pulled together the last of her excess magic together for so long that she could feel bile climbing up her throat. "Sonorous."

Her target could now speak. She waited for a response, supposing that getting used to only being able to move your mouth would take a moment. 

Luckily, she didn't need to wait long. 

"Tee hee hee! I see that wittle Olivia Kirky wants me to think she's not a big baby! Too bad!" He blew a raspberry in her face and disappeared, leaving behind a pile of his forgotten, unused projectiles. 

Olivia huffed. She'd get him eventually. No one truly harmed her and got away with it. For now, she'd have to practice on balancing her use of magic. Even she knew that her way of casting was incredible inefficient. 

"That was certainly a sight to behold, wouldn't you saw so?" 

Olivia jumped to her feet and whirled around. Unlike the greasy little ghost that escaped, these two were transparent and so far, friendly. The source of the voice presumably belonged to the rotund, bald man dressed like a medieval monk, since his partner was a ghostly woman. 

The transparent woman merely nodded, which appeared to be enough for the jovial man. "A first year trapping Peeves hasn't been done since 1467. Quite impressive."

Olivia know how to react to that. To assure him that she had practice at home? To blush and laugh it off? She didn't know the repercussions of her actions. Oh, Artie was going to be angry with her for something. 

 "Thank you?"

The fat man laughed. "It's alright, I'm proud of you. Not many students can land a spell on Peeves, let alone bind him. Fantastic spell work, young lady."

She gulped. Olivia noticed how he didn't say, "Excellent wand work". 

"Um, thank you, really. I was just really angry that he thought he could harass me like that, and the words kinda just...came out?" She played with her pigtails, a nervous tick that never went away no matter how much she was scolded for it. 

"That's the beauty of magic. Say, I don't think I ever introduced myself. Forgive my rudeness. I am known at Hogwarts as the Fat Friar, house ghost of Hufflepuff. And my companion is the Grey Lady of Ravenclaw." 

Instantly, her anxiety evaporated. She found him by chance! According to Artie, he was so friendly that some of the students called him the "Therapy Ghost", and whenever they were suffering from emotional turmoil they would find comfort in his words and presence. "I think I'm gonna be in Hufflepuff!" She chimed.

"I'm delighted to hear that! You look like a proper Hufflepuff to me." 

Olivia beamed. "Thank you so much!"

So much for spending the afternoon exploring. Instead, Vee found herself in the Hogwarts kitchen, baking up a storm for fun while chatting with the Fat Friar. His friend, The Grey Lady, excused herself long before they even entered the kitchen, but that was alright. If this kind soul was looking over her year round, Olivia was more than happy about her circumstances. Plus, she was allowed into the kitchen!

Ollie would be so proud. Not even a week into her stay and she'd already made so many friends and discovered so much. And she was now determined to trap the poltergeist, Peeves. 

No matter what. 

-0-

Usually, when Amelia and Vee left a room, it was silent, unless one of the other Americas or Denmark were present. But to Matthew's chagrin, Jett took it upon himself to make up for their absence. Now that the girls weren't present, he refused to hold back, chatting about anything that came to mind. 

The current topic was ingrown toenails, and Matthew was racking his brain for anything-literally anything-else to talk about. 

(Looking back on it, at least ingrown toenails wouldn't bring him to unknown dangers and perilous adventures, but it wasn't his fault that he thought talking about pine trees would be harmless.)

Kumahatayo sneezed, and instantly, a topic popped into Matthew's head. Now, how to change topics without being rude?

"-puss came out, and of course it was bleeding, so I was definitely gonna bandage that sucker-"

Never mind, being polite was something he did always. He could afford to be rude once in a while. 

"-Uh, have you heard about the pines?"

His hand froze halfway from delivering a spoonful of cereal to his mouth. "What?"

Okay, at least he had his attention. "The pines. They're doing really well this year, so uh, its been easier for me to breathe. In fact, the forest in general is just doing well." Matthew had no idea where he was taking this. 

"Glad to hear it, mate. Better than coughing up a lung from a really bad wildfire." 

He laughed a bit, even though nothing about that comment was funny. "Yeah. Maple, I don't know what I would do if my forests caught fire." 

"Call the fire department? What's the number over there again, 911?"

"Correct. Mexico, America, and I all share it. Nice and easy." He said noncommittally.

Jett opened his mouth to say something and stopped. Like a switch being thrown, instantly he switched topics again. Well, not entire topics, but subtopics. "Speaking of, want to go explore the forest outside today?"

"Weren't we explicitly told not to go to the forest?" Matthew asked. It was pointless to even voice his concerns when Jett had already made up his mind, but force of habit beat out logic. 

 Jett's eyes sparkled. "He said not to go there if we didn't want to die. But, I'm fast and you're good at hiding, so I say let's go for it!"

Matthew winced at that. He wished he had the apparent bravado and fearlessness towards death that Jett so clearly had. It would've made a lot of things easier. "...I'll go if we set a time limit."

"Sure. How about right before the dinner hour, so...6 pm?"

Five hours wasn't too bad. He could do that. And even though Jett was fearless, he was also loyal. If Matthew got into danger, the Aussie would surely help him out. 

"Alright."

"Really? You mean it mate?!" He's practically shaking from excitement. 

Saying no would just be cruel, especially to a face that young. 

"I do. Let's hurry before logic and reason kick in, eh?"

-0-

Character Reference:

Mains:
Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America
Arthur Kirkland: England
Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia
Matthew Jean Williams: Canada
Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England

Other(Varies per chapter):
Brady Kaminski: Amelia's baseball friend from LA
Kumajiro(or any variation of Kuma+a random ending): Matthew's talking polar bear.
Albus "I have a bunch of middle names" Dumbledore: Headmaster of Hogwarts
Minerva McGonagall: Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts
Chief: Amelia's German Shepherd back in LA