CHAPTER 10 | HE TAUGHT ME !

            KENNEDY HAS NEVER particularly liked winter. She likes winter fashion. She likes hot chocolate. She likes the look of icicles and snow. What she does not like is how cold the Blast Ended Skrewts looked in their crates.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not", Professor Hagrid announced to the shivering class, "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip ... we'll jus' settle 'em down in these new boxes".

Kennedy peered at them. There were about ten in total but there was almost double that amount last class. "Weren't there ... more?", Kennedy asked no one in particular, knowing her friends were scattered around and whoever heard would answer. Ron answered, "I reckon their desire to kill one another persevered".

"Damn", Kennedy muttered.

"Tell me about it", Ron replied.

They had grown to about double their size — now each approaching around three feet in length. She supposed the space caused them to be more competitive with one another. Poor things. They were still cute though— thick pink armor, fire-blasting ends, ten legs, stings and suckers.

Kennedy began to coo, "They are so—"

"They are, quite literally, the most repulsive thing I have ever seen", Harry cut her off.

"How?", Kennedy turned to face him alarmed, "They're adorable!".

"You might also just be mental, Kenn".

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"I thought I convinced you last time", Kennedy mumbled.

"I said something along the lines of 'maybe they could be cute if I squint and turn around so I can't see them anymore'", Harry chuckled, "I wasn't very convinced".

The rest of the class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Professor Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets. "We'll jus' lead 'em in here", Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens".

The skrewts however, apparently do not hibernate in water and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Even if it is for their own good, so they can survive the winter. Hagrid was soon yelling to calm the class, "Don' panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, strewn with the wreckage of the boxes.

Well, Kennedy thought they were cute, but her rose-tinted glasses weren't quite that pink.

Most of the class — Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle at the front — fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in. A couple people stayed behind to help Hagrid — Harry, Ron, Hermione, Kennedy, Rachel and Daphne included. Together, they managed to restrain and tie up nine of the skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts.

Even with blisters on her fingers, Kennedy still loves them dearly.

Only one skrewt was left. "Don' frighten him, now!", Hagrid shouted as Kennedy heard Ron, Daphne and Harry cast fiery sparks at the skrewt a couple ways away. Kennedy was focused on calming down the skrewt they had just tied up. "Jus' try an slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won' hurt any o' the others!".

After calming the skrewt down, Kennedy turned to find the last skrewt advancing on them, sting arched and quivering over its back. It was scared.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that!", Ron shouted angrily as they slowly backed into the wall of Professor Hagrid's cabin, still holding the skrewt off with their sparks. "Yes, Ron, we do not want that!", Daphne shot back.

"Well, well, well ... this does look like fun", Rita Skeeter was leaning on Hagrid's garden fence, looking at the mayhem. She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furry purple collar, and her crocodile-skin handbag was over her arm.

"Oh, that outfit is horrendous", Kennedy muttered. "Yeah, I'm not one for fashion but even I can tell ...", Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust, "The woman wearing it is worse".

Hagrid launched himself on top of the skrewt that was cornering Daphne, Harry and Ron, flattening it as a blast of fire shot out of its end, withering the pumpkin plants nearby. "Who're you?", Hagrid asked as he slipped a loop of rope around the skrewt's sting and tightened it.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter", she replied, grinning cruelly. Her gold teeth glinted in the pale winter sunlight. "Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore", Hagrid said, frowning slightly as he got off the slightly squashed skrewt and started tugging it over to its siblings.

Rita acted as if she hadn't heard what Hagrid said, "What are these fascinating creatures called?".

"Blast-Ended Skrewts", Hagrid grunted. "Really?", asked Rita, feigning interest. Based on the gossipy style of her articles, Kennedy reckoned she was looking for something other than information about the skrewts. "I've never heard of them before ... where do they come from?".

A dull red flush dusted Hagrid's face on all the areas uncovered by his wild black beard. She turned her attention to Ron. He was in her field of vision and she didn't want to draw attention to herself by moving too much. Ron looked ... panicked. Kennedy wondered why. Hermione piped up, "They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they, Harry?".

"What? Oh yeah ... ouch ... super interesting", said Harry. Hermione had stepped on his foot.

"Ah, you're here. Harry!", Rita said as she looked around, "So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favorite lessons?".

"Yes", Harry said firmly. Professor Hagrid beamed.

"Lovely! Really lovely ...", clearly she was looking for something juicier. So she changed her angle. Hagrid was her new target, "Been teaching long?". Kennedy noticed her eyes travel over Dean (who had a nasty cut across one cheek), Lavender (whose robes were badly singed) and Seamus (who was nursing several burnt fingers) before finally settling on her. Immediately, Rita Skeeter's face twisted up in confused recognition.

"But ... you look just like ...", she began. Kennedy furrowed her eyebrows, "Look just like who?". "Never mind ... I must be mistaken", Rita Skeeter shook her head in disbelief.

"This is o'ny me second year", Hagrid answered her previous question. Rita snapped out of it, "Lovely ... I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these — er — Bang-Ended Scoots".

"Blast-Ended Skrewts", Hagrid said eagerly, "Er — yeah, why not?".

Immediately, they all had a bad feeling about it. But there was no way any of them could communicate that to Hagrid without Rita Skeeter seeing, so they all watched in slightly horrified silence as Professor Hagrid and Rita Skeeter made arrangements to meet in the Three Broomsticks for a good long interview later that week. Then, the bell rang up at the castle, signaling the end of the lesson.

"Well, good-bye, Harry!", Rita Skeeter called merrily out to him as he set off with Ron and Hermione to whichever class the Gryffindors had first. Kennedy, Daphne and Rachel had History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs. They made their way towards the castle, dragging their feet to the dreadful class.

"Until Friday night, then, Hagrid!", Rita Skeeter called out merrily before spotting Kennedy again, "Excuse me ... what's your name?".

"Kennedy Bishop", at Kennedy's words, Rita's drawn eyebrows climbed up high on her forehead. "Bishop", she repeated, as if she couldn't quite wrap her head around it, "You wouldn't be related to Achille Bishop, would you?".

"Yes, he's my father", Kennedy answered shortly.

"Ah", Rita Skeeter nodded in understanding, "Interesting".

"Um, right. Well, I have a class to get to, so if you'll excuse me", Kennedy walked away quickly. Weird. That was so weird.

.·:••●••:·.

            KENNEDY HAD A FREE PERIOD after lunch. She stepped through the door to the Slytherin Common Room to find a couple of students milling around — some studying, some chatting, a pair playing Wizard's Chess. No one she particularly cared about. Until she spotted Jude sitting in an alcove, reading a book.

"Jude", she called out as she walked over. He didn't look up for a moment, probably wanting to finish his sentence before he dog-eared his page and grinned widely. "Kennedy", he placed his book in his satchel and made space for her to sit beside him, "You're free?".

"Yep. And I intend on absolutely wasting my time", Kennedy chuckled as she leaned back into the groove of the wall.

"Could you ... could you do something for me, Kenn?", Jude tentatively asked after a moment of silence. "Of course", Kennedy turned to face him once she realized he was nervous, "Ask away".

"Could you cornrow my hair for me?", he rushed out in three great syllables like saying the words burned his tongue, "I mean, usually Maman does it and she did try teaching me how to do it before I got here but it's really really hard to get the rows straight and whenever I do it, it doesn't look that great. Also, my parting isn't very good—".

"Ju, calm down", Kennedy soothed him, "I can cornrow so I'll do it for you". She paused before adding on, "Don't be afraid to ask me for anything, okay? Anything I have the ability to do for you, there's no way I'd say no".

Jude nodded, "Okay. Okay, thank you, Kenn".

Kennedy smiled, "Where would you like to do it?". "Um ... I'm not sure. Usually I'd suggest my dorm but you're a girl and I think the stairs have been charmed to turn into a slide if a girl tries going in", Jude admitted. "Well, would you mind doing it here?", Kennedy asked, "You can sit on the floor and I'll sit in the alcove".

Jude mulled it over, "There's not that many people here, so sure. Lemme go get my stuff". "Alright", Kennedy smiled as he rushed over to his dorm to get his combs and products. "Here", he placed them all on the seat beside Kennedy. A wide-tooth comb, rat tail comb, hair butter and hair bands. Everything she needed. Jude sat down in front of her as her thighs bracketed his shoulders. "When's the last time you washed your hair?", Kennedy asked as she began applying the hair butter to his hair and gently prying apart the few knots.

"This morning"

"Did you plan on asking me?", Kennedy asked. "I've been meaning to but I was scared you would say no", he mumbled. "Well, now you know you don't have to worry about that".

"Yep", Kennedy could hear the grin in his voice.

After applying the hair butter, Kennedy began combing his hair out from the ends to the roots. "Do you still want to read?", she asked, "The product and bits of hair might get on the pages". "Not if I hold it up like this", he held the book right in front of his face. "You'll get tired", Kennedy said as she began to cornrow. "I'll put it down when I do".

"How big do you want them?", Kennedy asked. "Mid-size? So not so big that there's like four but not so small that we sit here forever".

Kennedy squinted at his hair before asking, "Eight or ten?". "Ten", Jude answered. She hummed in acknowledgement before beginning the first corn row. "Would you like to read for me?", she asked.

"Sure", and Jude read story upon story as Kennedy cornrowed his hair. It was a collection of children's stories — The Fountain of Fair Fortune, The Tale of Three Brothers, The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, The Warlock's Hairy Heart. Stories Jude's Maman read to him. Stories Kennedy's Papa read to her .... a few times. When he had time and wasn't too tired after work. Wasn't very often, now that she thinks about it. She read on her own most of the time.

Kennedy worked silently as Jude read aloud, enjoying the simple comfort of cornrowing his hair. "How far are you? It feels like you're almost done", Jude asked and reached up to feel. Kennedy playfully slapped his hand away, "No touching".

"I've done seven out of ten", Kennedy answers his previous question before admitting, "I'm getting hungry". "Me too. Do you want to go down to the kitchens and see what we can get? Ooh, do you want to bake something?".

"I've never baked before", Kennedy sheepishly admitted. "That's alright. Maman and I bake all the time. I'm an expert!", Jude proudly said. Kennedy was silent as she decided to take the plunge and ask, "You always talk about your Maman. Is your Papa home?".

"He is. They're both researchers at St. Mungo's. I just always talk about my Maman because I spend more time with her. I love my Papa very much", Jude answered.

"Ah, you're a Mama's boy", Kennedy chuckled, "That makes sense".

Then, there was a comfortable silence long enough for Kennedy to start and finish a cornrow. Jude broke it, "What do you want to bake, Kenn? When we go down to the kitchens".

"Hmm. My favorite pastry is pumpkin pasties", Kennedy says. Jude lit up with excitement, "I love pumpkin pasties! Maman makes the best ones!".

"I'm sure yours are amazing then, since you've learned from her so well".

"Mine are alright. But hers are ... magnificent", Jude paused then added, "I'll ask her to make you some!".

Kennedy was stunned enough to temporarily stop cornrowing before returning to it, "Jude, I can't ask you for that. That's a burden to your Maman". "You didn't ask me. I offered", Jude huffed, "You've been very kind to me from the boat. Even before we got here. When I write to Maman and Papa, I mention you. Maman thinks you are very nice. She would love to make you some".

Kennedy blinked, "You ... you've mentioned me to your parents?".

"Of course", Jude said simply, "I speak about all of my friends".

"I mentioned you to my Papa too", Kennedy realized, "Would you like to meet him? We could bring him some of whatever we bake".

"That would be so cool. He's a real potion master! But ... we haven't even decided what we'll make".

"Hmm ... how about some cookies. Simple, for my first time baking", Kennedy suggested as she finished off the last cornrow. "Alright", Jude agreed with a solemn determination as he turned to face her, "We'll make cookies".

.·:••●••:·.

            "YOU KNOW, the cornrows look good on you", Kennedy smiled as they munched on a fresh batch of cookies. Making them was easy, purely because it was mostly Jude meandering around the house elves and Kennedy watching him bake as they chatted. If Kennedy had actually baked with him, they would both be terribly sick.

"Thank you", Jude smiled, "They are more 'cause I need them than style. I've had my afro out since we got here, and it's been like four months. That's the longest I've had it out".

"The longest I leave mine out is like ... two weeks".

"Two weeks?!", Jude asked, alarmed. "Yeah ... I prefer to have it tucked away in braids or twists than have to pick it out every morning and twist it before I go to bed. Plus oiling and washing once a week. It's a lot of work", she shrugged.

"It is", Jude admitted. "How long are you gonna leave them in?", Kennedy gestured to his cornrows. "A month maybe? I'll only refresh them once. I don't want them to start looking too old".

"I can do them again for you, if you want", Kennedy offered, "I can do twists and braids too".

"Thanks, Kenn", Jude said just before biting into another cookie. "Don't mention it", Kennedy waved him off. "Also...", Kennedy snapped the lid tight over the container of cookies, "There's four left. Let's leave them for Papa".

Kennedy raised her first and knocked thrice gently on the large ornate door of her father's quarters. She could hear the muffled bubbling of a cauldron. "It's me, Papa", she called out, "I brought someone to meet you". The bubbling stopped. The clap of her father's hands as he dusted something or the other off his hands. "Come in, Odette! It's open", he called out.

"Your name is Odette?", Jude asked. "Middle name", Kennedy clarified as she pushed the door open. "Odette", Achille greeted with a smile, "And a friend".

"This is my friend Jude Vernier. He is one of the First Years I met on the boat", Kennedy introduced him just as Jude straightened himself and smiled politely, "Hello, Sir. It's lovely to meet you".

"And, you too, young man", Achille smiled kindly, "Are you Francophone?".

Jude switched to speak French, "Yes, Sir. My grand-parents moved here from Senegal".

"My next question was if you spoke French but you have answered that already", Achille chuckled, replying in French.

Seeing as they had switched over to French, Kennedy followed, "Papa, Jude and I made cookies. That's why we came here". Kennedy handed over the container just as her Papa stared at them with thinly veiled fear, "You ... baked?".

"Okay, Jude baked and I watched", Kennedy clarified, "Now you do not have to fear food poisoning. They are very good. We almost ate all of them on the way here".

Achille visibly relaxed. Kennedy barely held back the urge to kiss her teeth in annoyance.

He reached into the container and bit into one before groaning with delight, "These are very good! You should consider a career in this, if you'd like. People would pay a lot for this".

Jude giggled, a little shy, "Thank you, Sir. It's my Maman's recipe. I am interested in a career as a Potions Master, actually. Like you".

Once Achille heard that, he straightened up and placed the container on a nearby table, "Really? Well, I am always interested in scoping out new talent. How about you brew a few things for me and I give you some pointers, hm?".

Jude lit up with excitement, "That would be— that would be so cool. Thank you!".

"You have a very good attitude. You're a good kid. I would love to see what you can do", Achille took another bite into a cookie, "You know where to find me". Jude nodded with determination before saying, "Thank you", once again.

Kennedy looked up at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Her free period would be ending in about twenty minutes — so would Jude's. "Ju, we have class in a bit. Let's go".

"Good-bye, Sir!", Jude called out as they left. "Bye Papa!".

"Good-bye!", Kennedy heard as the large ornate door shut behind them.

.·:••●••:·.

            AFTER KENNEDY'S sudden realization at the Black Lake that her current status of magical inadequacy must change, she reached out to Professor McGonagall. That was four days ago. Professor McGonagall had stared at her plainly throughout her entire explanation before saying, "Could you hold your wand out for me, please? Just as you would before casting a spell".

Kennedy was a little confused but murmured a small "Okay" before pulling her wand out of her cloak and holding it out. McGonagall circled her for a second before saying, "Relax your body. Magic is a physical process, as well as mental. If your body is not relaxed, your magic will be weaker because your mind is preoccupied by fear. Relax".

Kennedy pursed her lips, tried to calm herself down before assuming the stance once again. "Much better", McGonagall hummed in approval, "But ... hang on". "What's wrong?", Kennedy asked. "Your wand ... you're holding it wrong", McGonagall said plainly, "Relax your knuckles and loosen your grip a bit. Right ... okay, not too loose. Alright ... Move your wrist to the right ... just a little bit. Right! Stay like that".

"This feels ...", Kennedy trailed off. "Uncomfortable? It should. It seems you've been associating magic with fear and the muscle memory developed accordingly. It's alright. It's not fatal. I'll help you. You can put your wand away now, Ms. Bishop. Let's compare schedules and see where we're both free".

They settled on Tuesdays after lunch for an hour, Fridays just after breakfast for an hour and Saturday mornings for three hours. Today was a Saturday morning, it was their second session, they were an hour in and Kennedy was suffering.

"Again", McGonagall calmly instructed, "Only the wand movement".

McGonagall identified that the issues were in her basics, evident from her even holding her wand wrong. And so, she chose to start their sessions with drilling correct wand movements and correcting her muscle memory. Now, logically Kennedy knows the value of Professor McGonagall's expertise but her wrist is near cramping and she's getting cranky.

"Be careful of your thumb, Ms. Bishop. It's almost slipping out of place", McGonagall reminded her. Kennedy gnashed her teeth and heeded her advice. She needed to get better. She couldn't continue living like this. It was a weakness she had allowed for too long.

She did the wand movement for Wingardium Leviosa again. And, again. And, again. For half an hour.

"I think you have it", McGonagall finally said, "Try saying the incantation".

Kennedy paused mid wand movement. She ... almost forgot that she was going to have to try the incantation. "Relax. I can see how you've tensed up. Just do what you have been doing for the past hour and a half, while saying the words".

McGonagall dragged over a chair and a feather. "You will be levitating the feather. You do not have to move it anywhere. Just levitate it in the air for as long as you can, for now".

Kennedy pursed her lips before nodding and breathing out a small, "Okay". She steeled herself before casting the spell— "Relax your body. It is exactly what you were doing before".

Relax. Kennedy can do that. She breathed out slowly then cast the spell before she could think about it, "Wingardium Leviosa".

Then, Kennedy felt what she always felt when casting a spell — a gradual build of energy from somewhere within her before bursting out into something tangible. But ... it was different this time. Bigger. Brighter. More powerful. But, not in a brute force kind of way. Kennedy wasn't stronger. She was just channeling the magic more efficiently. She wasn't distracted by fear anymore. She was calm.

The feather levitated, as she expected it would. It remained in place, firmly horizontal and straight. One end wasn't higher than the other, little feathery bits weren't falling like she expected. No, Kennedy had commanded the feather to levitate and so it levitated.

"Well done, Ms. Bishop", she heard McGonagall praise her. She said "Thank you", absent-mindedly. She was fully focused on the feather. "Keep it up for as long as you can".

It didn't move because Kennedy did not want it to. It remained in place because Kennedy wanted it in place. It was easier to understand magic when she thought of it this way. She had control over the object. That was familiar. It made sense.

"Now, move it to the right", McGonagall said. "What? I thought you said I wouldn't have to move it?", Kennedy could feel herself panicking. The feather began drooping. "I lied. You would've been nervous and never done it. Remember, you are in control of the feather. Magic is part of you. It is not external to you. Think of it like moving your arm. Your arm does not do what you do not want it to. Your magic is the same. Move the feather to the right. Slightly".

Kennedy huffed but tried to focus. It's just like her arm. She willed the feather to move to the right, slightly like McGonagall said.

It followed her instructions. It moved to the right, slightly.

"Well done, Ms Bishop. Set the feather down. We'll end here for today. Next session is Tuesday after lunch. We'll work on Incendio, the fire-making charm, next".

The next Tuesday, Kennedy lit scraps of parchment on fire. McGonagall didn't expect her to be able to control the flames so soon. In the same class, Kennedy successfully lit up the end of her wand, without losing control of the light. McGonagall hadn't expected that so soon either.

On Friday, McGonagall revealed the last few classes were diagnostic and she had been cleared to move from first year spells to third year spells. Kennedy struggled. She had ended up crying from frustration when the ice she had cast around a quill would immediately melt after she placed her wand down. McGonagall had pulled her into a semi-awkward hug and comforted her before giving her a break. Kennedy had refused to end the class.

She still hadn't mastered it by the end of the hour. Kennedy pretended the failure didn't sting.

On Saturday, it was clear she was trying to prove herself. McGonagall recognized it but said nothing, simply pursing her lips and instructing Kennedy through the Carpe Retractum Spell. "The spell produces a cord of light which attaches itself to an object and, depending on how you use it, can pull the object closer to you or you closer to the object. You will be doing the former. Focus on the quill", McGonagall had explained.

"How is it different from the Summoning Charm? When used to pull an object closer", Kennedy asked curiously. "Well, you saw Mr. Potter's use of the charm during the First Task. There is no cord of light to guide you, making the Summoning Charm more difficult. Additionally, based on the strength of the spellcaster, the Summoning Charm can be used to summon an object from great distances. Carpe Retractum cannot. You need to be able to see the object. It's a spell of convenience", McGonagall explained.

Kennedy tried the spell. It took her forty-five minutes to get it right. That's alright. The weight of the feather in her hand was reward enough.

As class was coming to a close, Kennedy tried the freezing charm again. The ice held up for two minutes before melting into water. Kennedy took it as a minor pathetic victory.

The next Wednesday, Kennedy had Charms with the Ravenclaws. They were covering the Severing Charm. Professor Flitwick had prepared slabs of clay for them to practice with, instructing them to work carefully and carve out small shapes of their choosing. It was a fun lesson. A bunch of the boys were dicking around and aptly, carved out a bunch of small dicks. Rachel had carved out a bunch of hearts and flowers. Daphne carved a bunch of golden snitches and all of the other hundreds of balls involved in Quidditch.

Kennedy started simple — circles. Until realizing that she, like everyone else, cannot draw a perfect circle free-handed. So, she moved to squares. The point of the exercise wasn't the shapes, but the precision and cleanness of the cut. Then, she tried a few rectangles. She even managed to do a wonky star. She loved it all the same. They got to keep the clay pieces so she would be placing the star on her bedside table.

Immediately, she bid a quick goodbye to Rachel and Daphne — she wanted to see her father. She thinks she mentioned her lessons with McGonagall once or twice but now she had tangible proof of her improvement in her satchel. Excitement thrummed in her bones. She couldn't wait to see him and gush about her classes and the feeling of magic finally cooperating with her.

A gruff voice interrupted her. It was coming from inside her Papa's room.

"Things are happening, Achille. And you know they are—", it was Karkaroff. He sounded panicked.

"I do not know what you want me to say, Igor. I simply do not know", her father responded. He was calm, as always.

Karkaroff huffed in frustration, "Your money will not keep you safe forever. It won't. Whatever you think you have over everyone else, it will run out".

Achille said nothing. Karkaroff kissed his teeth in annoyance. Or Kennedy thought he did. He could've done something else ... the door was thick.

"I have a champion to train. I'll be on my way", Karkaroff gruffly said. Immediately, Kennedy scurried behind a pillar, three pillars away from her Papa's door. She was quiet. Her Papa had taught her how to muffle her footsteps when she was eight. She could hear Karkaroff's footsteps disappear as he went down the stairs. He hadn't known she was there.

What were they talking about? Whatever. She'd ask the others what they knew about Karkaroff and try to figure it out from there. For now, she'd just wait a couple of minutes, waltz in as if nothing had happened, show her Papa her good work and be on her way.

She waited about five minutes before knocking on her Papa's door. "Come in!", he called from inside. She smiled giddily as she began gushing, "Papa, I did so good in Charms today! I've really improved a lot and I made—".

"What did I tell you about eavesdropping, Odette?".

Kennedy stopped in her tracks. The door slammed behind her as she lost control of it. She played dumb, paused before answering, "That I should do it discreetly?".

"That you can't eavesdrop on me".

Kennedy had the urge to fiddle with her hands nervously but held back. Instead, she looked him in the eyes directly and admitted to it — just as he had taught her, "How did you know?".

"I taught you how to muffle your footsteps. You got so good that you're as quiet as me. I know what my footsteps sound like when I'm trying to be quiet, and so I know yours", Achille calmly explained, but his eyes were lit with something frantic.

Kennedy opened her mouth to apologize, purely out of politeness. She didn't mean it. "I'm—", Achille cut her off, "Do not apologize. You are not sorry. I did not raise you to feel sorry for learning something new. I know you are not sorry".

Kennedy pursed her lips. He was right. He had taught her to not feel ashamed. Kennedy cannot remember ever apologizing for anything substantial her whole life.

"Alright, Papa", she said simply. She did not know what else to say.

Achille leaned against the table, rubbed his face in frustration before saying simply, "Do not expect an explanation for what you heard because it isn't your business. You are my child. I know all there is to know about you. But I am the parent. There are some things I do that you will simply never know. That is the natural order of things. Do well to respect it. Now, why did you come up here to see me? You said something about Charms?".

Kennedy had gathered herself while he was speaking. He had taught her that. "Yes, I've improved with my spellcasting. We worked on the Severing Charm today. Professor Flitwick prepared slabs of clay for us to work on. I made a couple of shapes. I just wanted to show them to you", she reached into her satchel and pulled out the circles and squares and the single star, "The star is going on my bedside table".

Achille just nodded and said, with not a hint of pride, "Well done, Odette".

"Thank you, Papa", she smiled gratefully. It was hollow. "It's almost dinner. I'll take my leave now", she excused herself. Took herself out of a situation once she realized it would not go how she wanted it to.

Her Papa had taught her that too. 

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AUTHOR'S NOTE!

achille bishop and his specific brand of gentle, loving but backwards morals, adultifying, isolating, no accountability parenting will forever haunt me