Blood marred the Slytherin Captain’s blonde mane; fresh cuts haphazardly lined his face and his skin white cold as dead. Beezus held her breath as she stared at the corpse with tear-filled eyes. And slowly....very slowly, she lifted her wand and pointed it at the horrendous scene before her.

“Riddikulus!” She cried.

Her boggart turned to sand before rotating back inside the box. Before Dylan’s, it showed her dead bodies of her sister, mother, aunt...people she held dearly. It was too much.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was formidable if you didn’t know how to get a hold of yourself.

“Think of something happy, the genuine kind. Or you know, you can just think of me.” Dylan Montmorency said, winking at his girlfriend who settled with shaking her head and rolling her eyes at him.

They’ve been in that vacant classroom for hours and to no avail, Beezus still couldn’t conjure a perfect patronus. It was a necessity that she learn for dementors seemed to have taken a liking to visiting Hogwarts every now and then….literally.

Dylan was teaching her, and despite herself, she was grateful that his patience wasn’t as thin as hers.

Although.........he was very distracting. Tsk.

Attending Wizarding University was not always about studying. Oftentimes, she and her friends spend their nights doing what WU students tend to do.

Like playing the random Bertie Bott’s game.

It was easy. All you have to do is pick one bean from the pack and guess what flavor it is.

This time it was her turn.

She got a yellow-colored one. “Hmm…I think this one is…… vanilla?” Of that she was unsure, but it was worth a guess because that was her amortentia.

A friend snagged the bean from her to taste it. “Ugggggggggghhhhhhhhh, Castell. You’re right…again.”

Hah. Lucky!

I knew of him but I didn’t know him. We were both in most classes at the University and he was admired by many, including me. He was smart, passionate and a sight to behold. But there was something about him that many didn’t know about.

Today, I found out.

I was on my way to the female restroom which was adjacent to the male’s when I heard some sort of hissing noises coming from the corner which separated the two. Curious, I maneuvered carefully to take a look. There I saw who was making those sounds.

It was him.

“Well, Beatrice. I am personally proud of the improvement you’ve been showing this year. Your vitals are looking very good, dear.” Her most compassionate personal Healer, Miss Venice Lawson, told the brunette with a very genuine smile.

When Beezus was admitted at St. Mungo’s because of the ominous decline in her health, the said Healer was the one who was assigned her case. She was there through all the pain, the bloody messes, and those nights of heartache and distress.

“Here, have a licorice wand while I sort out things so you can go home early today.”

See? Best Healer.

Beezus woke up on the wrong side of the bed. She was not in the mood and was doing a perfect job of it by throwing sass at every single person who approached her today. Well, except for the Professors because duh, they were Professors.

And a certain Slytherin person.

Said person offered himself to be her hex dummy. Literally. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity so when they arrived at the DADA Dueling Arena, she immediately whipped out her wand.

“FLIPENDO!”

She sent the Knockback jinx with a zap, sending her opponent sailing backwards.

She was not even sorry.

“Some gardenias for you, dear Beatrice.” Said the person who was shoving a bouquet of white gardenias in the brunette’s face.

“Ugh! Can you not…..Ugh, thank you….Carlos.” Yes, she was still going to say ‘thank you’ because the flowers were beautiful. Unlike the person who proffered them, who was now obnoxiously on his way, feeling like he was the king of the world and sending a wink at her as he did so.

Merlin, she hated his guts.

As Beezus took a deep sigh, another person shoulder-hugged her from behind. “You’re flushing, Bee.”

“Yes, Meredith. I am flushing…..from extreme exasperation.”

“This is so fun….NOT.” Guess what? They were required to wear a dress AND heels for their Muggle Studies lesson. Beezus was not a fan of Professor Cerulean today. She was fine with the dress but the heels. Merlin, the heels… and they had to climb at least three flights of stairs to get to their classroom.

She was about to pull open the door…when she heard a voice say, “State your name and your house.”

WHOA. Talking door!

Blink.

“Err…Beatrice Castell. Ravenclaw.”

“Announcing the arrival of Miss Err Beatrice Castell of House Ravenclaw.”

Snort. Really, door? Including the stutter?

Professor Barlow, their Care of Magical Creatures Professor, was herding them towards the barn for today’s lesson. The Groundskeeper, Mr. Firth’s cow was due to give birth.

Beezus Castell was EXCITED.

Understatement.

When it was announced earlier, she had gone and squeaaaaaaled like the girl that she was that Mr. Firth threw her a look which she responded to by plastering a very wide, almost stupid, grin on her face.

Once Bonny the cow started mooing more loudly, she didn’t dare blink and when the newborn calf was finally out, she’d gone and squeaaaaaaaaled yet again.

Baby Crazy, she was.

Taking up Advanced Herbology Studies is never boring, let me tell you. It’s not all about digging soil, watering plants, or mere magical plant propagation.

Nuh-uh.

When replanting mandrakes, you have to make sure your earmuffs are attached properly or be prepared to be face-planting in mere seconds. Caring for Venomous Tentaculas is no easy feat either. It takes the brave at heart, the quick at wits and splendid with reflexes to deflect its deadly grabby tentacles. Another ominous plant is the Spiky Bushes. They literally shoot spikes at you for just passing by.

Every day is a duel hard-fought.

“Candytuft headband? Me likey, Bee.” Meredith, her closest friend at the University, said as she sashayed into the room in her own calendula-inspired dress. Beezus only chortled whilst she continued to face the mirror, trying her hardest at keeping her persistent baby hairs tucked away.

“Would you stop that? Free those baby hairs. They give you a more natural look.” As Meredith was more superior in the dressing up department, Beezus gave up on her task and followed her friend’s suggestion.

“Your date won’t mind them, anyway.” Meredith added teasingly. Beezus pouted.

They were ready for the Winter Ball now.

As with her usual Sunday afternoon routine, Beatrice was loitering around the Bangalore Garden Institute. Every weekend, their Groundskeeper brought in either new species of plants or magical creatures. It was fascinating to see them adapt to their new habitat. Last week, they brought in three flying seahorses. A few weeks back, Sopophorous plants. She knew that those were very rare that she couldn’t help but admire the abilities of their Groundskeeper at not only obtaining new species but outstandingly able to nurture and even breed them.

When she reached the plaza, she saw the new set of creatures – Thestrals.

Beatrice Castell was not only the queen of mood swings and bossiness, she was also talented when it came to hiding her feelings. But this night in particular, as she gently strummed the strings of her guitar, Mavis, she didn’t let herself act like she was okay. She was not. She was still heartbroken. And broken hearts hurt more than bone fractures or open wounds. It’s been years since she’s allowed herself to cry for him - for the could have beens. But tonight, she cried and sung that one song which made her remember both the good and bad.

“MEREDIIIIITH! Why *sneeze* are there so *sneeze* ugh…many furs on the bed?” Beezus couldn’t stop the sneezing even if she tried. There were animal hairs…everywhere. Sure, she was fine with the four cats they already had running around, namely: Bashful, Sleepy, Sneezy and Doc because those four were good cuddle buddies. But this was entirely something.

Meredith then appeared, carrying three felines innocently. Three new felines at that.

Beezus could only gape in surprise. “Holy quaffle, did you just get another three?”

“Uh-huh. Look. They’re so pretty.”

“And, and…is that a kneazle?”

“You bet. He really fits his name. Grumpy.”

It was only a matter of time before Beezus had to work on one of the plants she was very cautious of: Aconite, also known as monkshood or wolfsbane. Appealing to the sight, but as deadly as the dark midnight. Despite it being a useful ingredient in many potions, Beezus was adamant not to cultivate one in her nursery because of how toxic it is……until now. She’d been quite unfortunate to have picked it from the “For Finals” fish bowl.

She had to grow healthy aconites even if she was not confident enough. She just had to be... careful.

This was it. Graduation day. And Beezus was not dressed for the event yet. Why? Because once she saw the dress robes her Grandmother Evangeline had sent for her to wear, she was overcame with a wave of emotions. To say that she was overwhelmed was an understatement.

Gently, she took out the dress from the box and held it in front of the mirror. It was just so beautiful. She felt undeserving to wear it but eventually she did put it on.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, and then slowly she smiled at herself in melancholy.

(This was her in the dress robes. Ahem.)

End-of-the-Term Feast and also Spike’s last year at Hogwarts.

Beezus had to at least say goodbye even if as the boy in question arrived with his girlfriend, who was more than a little hostile towards Beezus, latching on to him.

They’ve just rekindled their friendship a few weeks ago. She definitely had to say goodbye.

She was trying to get his attention but failing to do so. Was he intentionally ignoring her?

Ouch.

Then a paper frog was in front of her. The word “Later” was on it, scrawled by a familiar penmanship.

Spike! He wasn’t ignoring her after all.

A few years back, Beezus and her best friend, Erin, went to Wyoming to have a different kind of summer. Instead of the usual under-the-sun, they opted for the burrow-in-the-snow.

On their first night at the small house they rented, they decided to share random stories in front of the crackling embers of the fireplace. Eventually their stories began treading on horror and spooky. There was a blizzard outside and they could hear each gush of wind, when suddenly…

Tok! Tok! Tok!

Someone was knocking! The two faced each other with horrified expressions.

“You open it.”

“No. You open it.”

Beezus couldn’t understand the appeal to the male species the idea of egging on each other. It was an idiotic form of entertainment, really. Take for example, last night when they had their after-graduation party and their male friends had set up their own butterbeer pong station but with a twist. The butterbeers were spiked with Ayahuasca essence that not only induced squeaky voice changes (yes, those were fun) but also vivid hallucinations.

One tried to jump off the balcony because he thought he was chasing a unicorn. Another hugged a cactus because he thought it was his favorite pillow.

“What do we have here?”

Trying hard to hide her smile, the brunette shrugged innocently at her friend. “I don’t know. Ice cream cakes?”

“From whom?”

“I don’t know.” But there was an attached letter to the cake’s box, and despite her quidditch reflexes, her friend got hold of it first. “For your sweet tooth…and the sweet you. CJ… CJ? That Castor boy?”

“What? Yeah…him.”

Her friend smirked mischievously, shaking her head. “Someone’s being wooed.”

Defensive, Beezus replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But of course, when she turned, came that wide, giddy, secret grin.

A picnic under the stars with CJ. That was how Beezus spent her Friday night. They were talking about a lot of things, until he shared his ambition to be an animagus someday. The brunette raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend, “You do?” He nodded and proceeded to tell her how he was going to do it and more, but she wasn’t listening. Not entirely. Her mind had conjured a person she strongly supposed could easily be an animagus if he so wanted. With his love for animals, why not?

Looking up at the stars, Beezus wondered about Spike Hutchinson.

The Hogwarts’ house elves were among the bestest cooks ever in her opinion. In fact, Beezus was adamant that the most satisfying fried chicken she has tasted in her whole life she had at Hogwarts. The second place she was going to give to her Aunt Belinda… who apparently mentioned in passing to her daughter, whom Beezus was babysitting today, that she was going to be cooking her crispy, finger licking good fried chicken for dinner tonight.

Well, guess who was going to stick around after babysitting hours?

Yup. This gal right here.

She wasn’t going to miss the chicken.

A small smile graced the brunette’s lips as she squatted down to eye-level for the small boy that she had brought to Hogsmeade with her today. She gently caressed his cheek, “This is Madam Puddifoot’s, love. This is where my friends and I would hang out when the school would give us the weekend to explore.”

The blonde-haired boy gave her a toothy grin. “When you was still a student, Moms?”

Beatrice chuckled softly and ruffled his hair. “That’s right. Let’s go get something to eat while we wait for your Aunt Elliot, okay?”

They boy nodded enthusiastically in response.

“Wait, what? Can we backtrack, Bee?” Her friend, Meredith, had a very confused and somehow distraught expression on her face.

“This is my first time hearing this. Are you saying that a boy once asked you to marry him, complete with a ring and all that jazz and you said yes.” Her friend was visibly getting more agitated, “And then…and then…you take it back, say no and return the ring? You crazy girl.”

Smiling serenely to herself, Beezus replied, “Yep. And because of that I have extinguished any hope of me getting married. I guess you can call it karma.”

“He’s so beautiful.” She was half-crying, half-smiling as the adoption personnel gently handed the sleeping infant into her waiting arms. He was so small and so soft and dear Merlin, she had only laid eyes on him for mere seconds but she already knew that she loved him. He looked so perfect that it hurt, in a very good way.

“Did…did she say anything about his name?” She asked, pertaining to the baby’s biological mother.

The personnel nodded. “She would like it if you somehow use the name Lewis.”

Sniffling, Beatrice cuddled the baby closer to her bosom. “Tamlin Lewis…”