CHAPTER 4 | TUNE IN, TUNE OUT!

              DAPHNE AND RACHEL had attempted to give Kennedy a warning about their Divination Professor. "She's totally crazy", Rachel had said and Daphne countered with, "I respect the art but as far as I remember, she's only ever been wrong ... and she is a bit eccentric, to say the least". Crazy, eccentric, Kennedy didn't think much of it.

She suspected this was one of her few blunders when it came to personal judgement.

Entering the room at the top of the North Tower where their class was to be held, and the professor lived, Kennedy's senses were instantly barraged with too much information. Bright, sweet perfume wafting from the fire, heavy mauve curtains that blocked out the sunlight, dim reddish light cast by lamps hanging, floating and standing, scarves and shawls draping whatever they possibly could and a mass of circular tables, rather ugly chairs and poufs cluttering the room. It was all just too much.

"Good day", came a misty voice from right behind Potter, making him jump. Kennedy stifled a quiet laugh at the sight.

The woman was thin and tall, face almost gaunt, with large glasses seemingly to compensate. They made her eyes look like a bug's. She was peering down at Potter with a pitiful expression; beads, chains and bangles on her person glittering and clinking as she did so.

"You are preoccupied, my dear", she said mournfully to Harry. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas... most difficult... I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass... and perhaps sooner than you think...", Kennedy almost didn't quite catch the last part as the professor's voice dropped in volume.

Harry seemed to have heard this spiel before because he merely stared back at her stone-faced and not with the expected horror that would come with hearing such a thing. The ginger boy beside Potter rolled his eyes.

Yep, they'd definitely heard that bullshit before.

The professor lingered beside them before damn near gliding toward the front of the class and seating herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for someone.

Kennedy knew it was her.

"Ah, the new student. My name is Professor Trelawney. If you would please tell us your name, my dear?", she addressed her, blinking far more than Kennedy deemed necessary. Regardless, Kennedy beamed a charming smile and said confidently, "My name is Kennedy Bishop, Professor".

At the mention of her last name, Trelawney's eyes widened further and her head craned to the side slowly before seeming to enter a trance as her eyes saw not what was in front of her. "Bishop, Bishop ... I see glimpses of your past, your lineage, my child and it is riddled with horrid, horrid things. She was but a child, that girl. So gifted yet unprotected".

Kennedy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, "Professor, what do you mean—"

"I apologize, my dear, but it is time we consider the stars", she said flippantly, moving on like she hadn't just said the most cryptic shit Kennedy had ever heard. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle..."

But of course, Kennedy wasn't listening. What the fuck did Trelawney mean? Her lineage? Her father had adopted her from a pureblood orphanage and that was all she knew. That was the truth. The records were there to prove it. And what child? Was it her? No, the way she phrased it ... it was a different child. But why was she unprotected—

"Hey, Kenn", Rachel nudged her discreetly, still looking forward to uphold an illusion of paying attention.

Kennedy merely hummed in response.

"Don't let what she said bother you. She predicts doom and gloom for someone every year, though it's usually Potter, but you heard that load of bollocks already. It's nothing to worry about", at the last sentence, Rachel sent her a reassuring smile.

Kennedy gave the best grin she could in response. Rachel silently slipped her hand into hers and rubbed her thumb on the back of her hand soothingly. Kennedy could just feel the comfort provided by that single gesture, and perhaps not love because they'd only been friends for a day but something that could grow into a pure, life-long friendship of joy and love. Kennedy quite liked that something.

A torn piece of parchment was slid over to her side of the circular table.

𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓪𝔁, 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷. 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮. 𝓘 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 ♥

~ 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓓𝓮𝓮 (っ◔◡◔)っ

Yeah, she was gonna fucking cherish that something.

Beaming at Daphne in thanks and now feeling giddy, Kennedy tuned back into the lesson.

"The baleful influence of Saturn... I sense it in this room, my dears", she said, eyes scanning until she found who she was looking for.

"Harry?"

It seemed she wasn't the only one who wasn't paying attention because Professor Trelawney was now attempting rather unsuccessfully to grab Potter's attention.

She walked closer to him, "Harry, my dear?"

"Harry!", his ginger friend nudged him and he seemed to snap back into himself. He looked around and seemed to notice the whole class staring at him. Curiously, he didn't seem embarrassed about it. The way Kennedy saw it, most people here really only chose this as an elective because they didn't want to do any of the others.

She was amongst those people.

"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn", Professor Trelawney seemed quite cross that he obviously hadn't been paying attention.

"Born under — what, sorry?", he blinked and cocked his head to the side slightly, messy black hair shifting as he did so.

"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!", said the Professor, now positively livid that he wasn't riveted by this news. "I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth ... your dark hair ... your mean stature ... tragic losses so young in life ... I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?"

He blinked, straight-faced, "I was born in July". The circular classroom resounded with laughter.

The class droned on without much fanfare after that. Professor Trelawney passed out copies of a complicated circular chart with instructions for them to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was mind-numbing and near soul-crushing for Kennedy. Was it too late to switch? Maybe Ancient Runes wouldn't be as bad as she thought it would be. Perhaps she'd talk it out with McGonagall. The year had just started, after all.

She peered down at the piece of parchment in equal parts misery and boredom. A loud squeal from the dramatic Gryffindor girl from Care of Magical Creatures — who Daphne told her was named Lavender Brown — broke her out of the riveting activity of glaring holes into an innocent worksheet.

"Oh Professor, look!", from that alone, Kennedy could tell Lavender quite liked Divination, "I think I've got an unaspected planet! Ooh, which one's that, Professor?".

Trelawney glided over and peered down at the chart, "It is Uranus, my dear".

Potter's ginger friend spoke with an all too innocent voice and a blank face, "Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?".

(Kennedy, with all her poise and dignity, let out a snort at the crude comment.)

Trelawney whipped around and glared at him. She sauntered back to her seat at the front of the class, face hardened and unlike her usual airy temperament.

"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart", she snapped, sounding quite like Professor McGonagall, "I want it ready to hand in by Monday, and no excuses!".

Most of the students grumbled and moaned about their weekends being taken away by Divination homework. Once again, Kennedy was among them.

"My god, this weekend is going to be horrid. How does she expect us to get all of that done in time?", Daphne whined once they were safely out of earshot and on the staircases descending to the Great Hall and most importantly to Kennedy: to dinner.

"I think she has an inkling we're all going to bullshit anyway", Kennedy suggested.

"Doubt it. She thinks we're all riveted by the mystical art of sight", Rachel mimicked Trelawney's airy tone, "Like we all can't see with our eyes".

"I say we try starting it tonight in the Common Room and just write the most ridiculous shit we can think of", Kennedy suggested.

"I second the motion. I am not in the mood to use the constellations to calculate the angles required for accurate readings", Daphne said then added a little quieter, "If it isn't a load of bollocks anyways".

"Thought you said you respected the art, Dee?", Rachel quirked a teasing brow.

"Did I say that? I don't think I did", Daphne grinned cheekily. This time, she took on Trelawney's airy tone, "It ebbs and flows, nothing remains constant, you know. Planets and all that bullshit".

She slung her arms around Rachel and Kenn's shoulder's, struggling with balance a little with the two inches or so Kennedy had on both of them, "Now, ladies, why don't we help ourselves to a feast?".

.·:••●••:·.

            RATHER UNFORTUNATELY, Daphne's grand plans were halted by the visual reminder of how far they were from feasting due to the long queue in the Entrance Hall. They joined the end of the line, Daphne looking particularly dejected. Rachel took it upon herself to rub her back in comfort, a tad bit mockingly. Kennedy and Rachel shared a silent giggle out of her line of vision.

A loud voice boomed from behind them. Kennedy rolled her eyes the moment she recognized it — Draco.

"Weasley. Hey, Weasley!"

Potter, the ginger boy (who's last name she now knew to be Weasley) and the brown-haired girl turned around to face him.

"What", Weasley said shortly, clearly not having the patience for Draco's bullshit.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!", Draco announced, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet. Kennedy raised an eyebrow, now that was interesting.

He began announcing so everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear, "Listen to this!".

By now, he had piqued everyone in the room's attention. Kennedy glanced over their faces, searching for a standout or something. There was intrigue, disgust, curiosity — all fairly standard in the face of what was shaping up to be public humiliation. Kennedy's face was neutral as she listened keenly.

"The headline's "Further Mistakes At the Ministry of Magic"! It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office".

Draco looked up, a sneer on his face and a glint in his eye. "Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?".

Kennedy leaned a little towards Rachel, "What's his actual name then?".

"Archibald", Rachel answered confidently then faltered, "Possibly".

That reminded her — she didn't even know Weasley's (the son) name. "What's Potter's ginger friend called? I know he's a Weasley but... never heard the first name".

"Ron ... and the girl with them is Hermione Granger. They tend to move as a unit".

"Like us then", Kenn said and they shared a short grin before tuning back into the show.

Draco had straightened the paper with a flourish, clearly on a high from all the eyes on him.

He read on, "Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder". Draco let out a snort at the mean comment before continuing.

"Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene".

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Draco, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house — if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?".

Body shaming. How lovely.

Weasley shook with fury as everyone in the queue stared at him. "Get stuffed, Malfoy", Potter said to Draco, attempting to put a quick end to the situation, "C'mon, Ron..."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Draco. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" Potter said, venom dripping from every word. Both he and Hermione Granger had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Draco, though Kennedy could see they were struggling against him. He was taller and probably stronger than both of them.

"That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Draco's pale face went slightly pink. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Potter snapped without missing a beat, turning away as the crowd "ooh"d and chuckled.

Potter was so ready to defend them — a family that wasn't his own by blood. And he'd stayed with them over the summer. They must be very important to him. Kennedy filed it away for later, perhaps it would prove useful.

She turned to Daphne to find Daphne already looking at her. There was a twitch to her lips, her neck was slightly flushed and she looked a little confused. Ah, Daphne was wondering why she hadn't come to Weasley's rescue like she had come to hers during Care of Magical Creatures.

Simply put, it wasn't Kennedy's fight to pick. She wasn't a knight-in-shining armor nor was she a defender of the weak. She had just come to the defense of her new-best-friend-slash-kind-of-crush and had fun while making a fool of Draco.

But, Daphne seemed to think she was much nobler than she was because of it. Kennedy almost wanted to laugh at her naivety.

Her, Kennedy Odette Bishop, doing something without a chance of gain.

It was preposterous.

A blast of white magic came streaming from behind Potter from Draco, leaving a clean line of blood on his face. Kennedy reached into her robe for her wand, just in case, even though she knew she was near useless with it—

Another loud bang and roar shook the entrance hall, the screams of students accompanying them.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!", came a booming voice. Everyone whipped around to see Professor Moody limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and pointing at a pure white ferret, shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

"Holy shit—", Kennedy whispered in equal parts awe and horror.

He'd just turned Draco into a fucking ferret.

No one moved but Moody. He had turned to look at Potter — the normal eye. The ghoul's eye was showing only white, the pupil facing towards the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody's gruff voice asked Potter. "No," Potter replied, "missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted suddenly, still facing Potter. "Leave — what?" Harry asked, bewildered. "Not you — him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at one of Draco's goons, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret.

Ah, the eye could see 360 degrees. Definitely a ghoul's eye.

Moody limped towards both goons and the ferret, well Draco, who gave a terrified squeak and took off, rushing toward the Slytherin dorms in the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again — it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more. Draco let out a squeal of pain.

Kennedy's eyes widened. Who the fuck was this guy?

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..." The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Never — do — that — again -" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"Professor Moody", came a shocked voice. Professor McGonagall, thank fuck. Draco was a right git but he didn't deserve to be transfigured without consent and tortured like this.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What — what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," said Moody. "Teach— Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, her books clunking to the floor.

"Yep," said Moody casually. "No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock—"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!". "I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Draco with great dislike. Draco, whose gray eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" taunted Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy... You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son... you tell him that from me! Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?".

"Yes," said Draco resentfully. "Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape... Come on, you..." And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.

"Well", Daphne started as they entered the Great Hall, "Not necessarily the feast I had in mind".

.·:••●••:·.

             "AND THEN PAPA, you'd never believe what happened after!", Kennedy giggled as she recounted the events from before dinner to her father, legs crossed as she sat on a throw cushion in the guest quarters of the castle. It was a nice space — spacious with a bedroom, sitting area and washroom. Kennedy and her father sat in the sitting area, the fireplace illuminating their brown skin.

Achille stretched a little from his place opposite her, careful not to knock over their game of wizard's chess. Chuckling a little and making his move, "And what would that be, Odette?". "He turns Draco Malfoy into a fu— bloody ferret!", Kennedy almost slipped and cussed in front of her father. He caught it, a slight scrunch of his eyebrows being his tell. To avoid a scolding, she continued on.

(Achille chuckled a little at the distraction he'd used in his own youth on the caretakers at the orphanage and let it go.)

"It was crazy! Then Professor McGonagall came in and changed him back where rather unfortunately, he can speak", at which Achille let out a loud bark of laughter and she made her move while he was distracted, "Then after, Daphne and Rachel and I headed to dinner. It was delicious, as you know". He had been sitting at the teacher's table and thus already knew what was served.

"Yes, I must say the quality of food here never disappoints. The flavors reminded me of my time here as a boy", Achille's eyes glinted over with a wistful quality, "Such fun times". Kennedy smiled at seeing her father so relaxed. It was rare to see him not bogged down with rushing to fix an issue at the factory or stretching himself thin trying to discover something new when they lived in France. She thought perhaps this opportunity would be good for him.

"But I'm interested in your friends, my love. Daphne and Rachel? I'm happy you've made friends here so quickly. I always worried you wouldn't adjust well to social situations with people your own age due to being home-schooled but I obviously underestimated you", Achille made his move and Kennedy made a face at it, confused at what to do before tilting her head to the side slightly and placing her piece down.

"They're wonderful! Daphne Greengrass and Rachel Minks are their full names. When I first met Daphne at dinner, I thought her surname sounded familiar. You do business with her father, don't you?", she asked him. "I do, I do. Her father, Uric Greengrass, deals in equipment — always the best of the best from him. He's one of my preferred suppliers", Achille responded.

"She's very sweet and kind", Kennedy kept her description short to not give indication about her little crush as she watched him take down one of her pieces with a slight scowl before continuing.

"And there's this young boy — a first year — named Jude Vernier who I'm kind of looking out for. Some boys were picking on him and I couldn't stand for it. He's very endearing. And Rachel! She's so funny! And, blunt like me so we get on very well. She's half-blood and this Pansy Parkinson girl was actively bullying her for it. She's ridiculous, honestly", Kennedy rolled her eyes then looked at the fireplace. She'd always thought fire was pretty, the way the flames could bounce and turn and breathe with life.

"And how did you respond?"

"Taught her a life-long lesson", Kennedy turned to face him and smiled a toothy grin.

Achille couldn't help but chuckle, "You really are my daughter".

"But, as your father, I want to remind you that some altercations do not need to be dwelled upon. Some are best left alone to leave enough energy for others. More important ones", Achille said.

"Ah, I did that earlier when I defended Daphne with Draco but left the Weasley kid".

"And why did you do leave his and not Daphne's, Odette?"

Kennedy shrugged, "Wasn't my fight to pick. I'm not a knight in shining armor, ever ready to save every maiden in distress".

"Exactly, you chose an important fight", Achille paused before adding teasingly, "So you do listen when I speak".

"Have I ever given any indication that I don't?", Kennedy smiled, cheeky. Achille returned it before a topic dawned on his mind.

"Odette, about the practical aspect of your classes, I know you've had your fair share of struggle—"

Immediately, Kennedy was put out of her good mood.

"Papa, I'll be fine", she tried to shrug him off.

She struggled with magic. A lot. Tutor upon tutor had been hired to help her but still, she lagged behind in skill for what was normal for her age group.

"I know you will, but always remember—"

"You're here to help and never judge, yes, I know", Kennedy crossed her arms and looked sideways firmly toward the embers of the fire. She hated every reminder that she wasn't up to par with her peers in magic, the very bedrock of their society. It was humiliating.

Achille remained quiet, allowing his daughter her time to silence and thought. She knew she appreciated it just as much as he.

"And what about your little plan you were formulating back home. Has it been set in motion?", Achille queried carefully.

Kennedy sat motionless before turning to him with a neutral but passively content expression. "It's going to plan perfectly. I've already begun gathering everything I need".

"The rules of the game and the key players", Achille murmured thoughtfully, looking at the fire as Kennedy moved her piece, "Impressive, though I wouldn't expect anything less from you".

Kennedy gave a small smile before exclaiming, "Checkmate". Achille startled, appearing to have forgotten their game of wizard's chess.

"And on that note of sweet, sweet victory, Papa, I shall be leaving you", she stood up with a finality and sauntered to the door before looking back with a cheeky smile, "Business to attend to and all that. Good night!".

"Good night!", was her father's reply as she closed the door behind her.

A grin still on her face, she made her way to the Hogwarts library. She'd heard so much about it when she was younger from her father — how it was a feast of knowledge with its old, crinkled tomes.

Now, Kennedy wondered if it would prove practical too.

It took her a while to get all the way there but she made it, immediately in awe of it. It truly was a beautiful place with the books organized neatly even with their differing exotic materials and sizes, poufs and chairs scattered around, and rows and rows of desks for students to study.

Curiously, only one was occupied. Kennedy walked closer, wondering if this would be the nugget of practical knowledge she was looking for. She didn't know what she was looking for or if she'd even find it today, but she'd know when she found it and there was no harm in looking around.

It was Hermione Granger, a brown box on the chair beside her as she looked at a mess of small circular things — badges if she had to guess — that she was bewitching with her wand.

On her way, Kennedy picked up a random book that didn't look like it'd bite her if she opened it. The Intricacies of Spell-Making, the book read. Not necessarily her preferred book but it seemed interesting enough. Perhaps she'd leave a note that she borrowed it.

Sitting a polite distance away from Granger, Kennedy sat down and began flipping through. The girl had barely even registered her presence. Allowing the silence to stretch, she skimmed the book enough to decide she would borrow it (even if it had little to no practical application to her life) and pondered how she'd open the conversation.

"You're not actually reading that, are you?", came Granger's voice.

Huh. She wasn't as clueless as Kennedy thought.

Not letting on her surprise, she looked up nonchalantly and brushed a stray braid behind her shoulder, "And why do you think that?"

"You're flipping the pages too quickly", was her blunt reply.

"Can't a girl skim a book in peace?", Kennedy rolled her eyes, picked up her book and walked to sit opposite to Granger.

"You also didn't even look at what book you were picking. And, you're new so there's no way you knew what it was before sitting down", Granger said easily before setting down her wand. "So, if you're not here to read, why are you here?"

Kennedy merely smiled at her. The odd response made Granger uneasy. She smiled wider.

"Perceptive, observant and subtle. I think I'll quite like you"

"I think I won't, so stop speaking in riddles and answer my question", Granger snapped.

"My father told me that Hogwarts' library held a host of knowledge. I just came to see if it holds practical knowledge as well", Kennedy decided to tell the truth.

"Are the riddles a constant with you?", she asked, still suspicious of her intentions.

"Are the questions a constant with you?", Kennedy countered.

Granger paused, "What even is your name?".

"Kennedy Bishop", she smiled, all teeth.

Hermione squints at her, "Your surname sounds familiar. Is your father Achille Bishop, the alchemist and potions inventor?"

"That's my Papa", Kennedy grinned, proud of the prestige that her father's hard work had brought to their name. "And what's your name?", Kennedy asked, pretending like she didn't already know.

"Hermione Granger. I remember you shutting up Malfoy during Care of Magical Creatures. I'll commend you for that", Hermione said, returning to her task of bewitching what Kennedy could now clearly see were circular badges.

"He needed it. I was getting a headache", Kennedy rolled her eyes and Hermione's lip quirked up slightly in amusement.

All movement stopped as Hermione seemed to make a realization. "Do you have house elves at home?"

Kennedy blinked, "I'm sorry, what?".

"Your father's name carries prestige because of his successful business ventures and inventions. That equals money. Do you have house elves at home?", Hermione looked at her with a bit of a squinted eye.

"I don't, actually", Kennedy replied. She wasn't lying. After the death of her grandparents when her father was young, then him being placed in an orphanage, their lineage's house elves were given to another family. "My father only has human employees".

"How come? Your family is rich and pureblood, isn't it?", Hermione asked, returning to her task but a tad bit slower than before. She was still wary of Kennedy. Smart.

"Yes, but let's just say there was a break in the chain of passing down", Kennedy said, not at all willing to divulge her family history to this girl she just met.

"But, I've been to houses with house elves. Never really noticed them much", Kennedy said flippantly.

"But, can't you see how horribly they're being treated? No holidays, no pay, no resigning?", Hermione's voice grew with intensity with each syllable.

"You're passionate", Kennedy remarked.

"Very", Hermione said, returning fully to bewitching the badges. Kennedy hadn't been paying attention to what exactly she was doing with them but now, she could see she was etching four letters onto them — S.P.E.W.

"Does S.P.E.W have something to do with said passion?", Kennedy asked. Hermione lit up at being asked, "Yes! It stands for Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare".

"Ah", Kennedy said in understanding, "And how many members have you got?".

"One, but two pending. We could be four, perhaps? Two sickles for a badge where the proceeds go to the leaflet campaign", Hermione said firmly, meaning business. "Are you interested?".

In all honesty, Kennedy hadn't heard anything she'd want to be more distanced from than that. Activism wasn't her thing.

"Sure", she smiled and Hermione reached into the box for an already bewitched badge. "What color would you like? Green, purple or red?".

"I think green would blend in with my tie and not get the point across so purple sounds fine", and with that, Kennedy accepted the badge and pinned it onto her robes (but not before pulling out her pouch and handing over two sickles. The leaflet campaign was very important).

"Well, you've caught me rather unprepared. I haven't even sorted out venues for club meetings yet".

"Not to worry, we can obviously meet later and talk about it", Kennedy smiled, unsure why she was going with the acquaintance approach but running with it.

"Well then, welcome to S.P.E.W", Hermione said with only a hint of a smile on her face.

"Happy to be here", was Kennedy's lie in response.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE!

thus begins the hermione and kennedy brotp