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A Bouquet of New Beginnings Ch. 17 "Calendula"

Floriography - Health & Trouble

[AO3]

Summary: A month into the new school year. Professor Weasley checks in on progress, and Poppy invites Artemis for some moonlight rescue.

Below is an excerpt of the chapter; full chapter can be viewed from AO3 link above.

The beds of green slowly shifted to red, gamboge, and brown to welcome autumn. Students brought out their warm cloaks and jumpers to welcome the cooler months ahead. This particular afternoon, Artemis sat across from the redhaired Deputy Headmistress in her office. Fresh cups of earl grey wafted their elegant steam as the snow-haired girl rested her hands, right over left, in her lap.

“Miss Loreley, thank you for coming to see me so quickly.”

“It was no trouble, Professor Weasley,” responded Artemis quickly. Her palm tingled from the slight rub of her thumb against the hidden scar.

“It’s been a little over a month since you’ve come to Hogwarts, and I wished to check in on your progress. May I see your Field Guide?”

Artemis dutifully pulled out the tome from her school bag with both hands.

“How have you been adjusting?” Professor Weasley asked as she began to flip through the pages.

“Well, ma’am.”

A perfect blend of bitter and sweet swirled her mouth with her tea.

“I’m glad. I was starting to worry, since you’ve shown up to breakfast only once.”

She swallowed; the liquid felt like molten lava. Her gaze fell to the liquid surface. Reflected back was her carefully neutral façade. The additional Glamour Charm hid the increasingly darkened under eye circles.

“I eat light in the mornings, Professor.”

“I see. Well, you certainly keep yourself busy. Hospital Wing volunteering, the Briar Greenhouse, and I’ve heard you’ve taken to extra broom lessons with Miss Reyes. Nurse Blainey has also expressed that you wish to undertake the next Asclepius Record.”

A small smile stretched the Deputy Headmistress’ lips. Artemis wondered if this woman had ears in every crevice of the school.

“Collectively, all the professors of the mind that you are rapidly catching up to your classmates. You’re making great progress. Well done.”

Artemis’ gaze moved toward the desk as another sip of earl grey glided down her throat.

“Professor, may I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“The room I stayed in my first night… did it disappear?”

No matter how many times she’d passed by that hall, the door never reappeared. Professor Weasley lifted an eyebrow before she chuckled softly.

“I’d wondered when you were going to ask me. Frankly I’m surprised it took you as long as you did.”

Artemis gave a sheepish smile. “I wanted to make sure I’d not been mistaken.”

“Hm. Very well. Nurse Blainey did mention the lack of a… what was it… a Healing mannequin? Perhaps the Room will have it.”

“The… Room, Professor?”

The professor held the Field Guide toward her. “Yes. Come, I’ll show you.”

Artemis followed the Deputy Headmistress without hesitation; her heels clicked as the clumps of students parted the halls. Professor Weasley’s overwhelming presence dulled her own as she followed in the taller woman’s shadow. The seventh-floor corridor wasn’t far, and there were no students there.

“Now, walk past this wall three times, and focus on something you need. To make it simple, how about somewhere to focus on the Asclepius Record?” Professor Weasley suggested warmly and gestured her arm toward the hall.

Artemis began. To and fro, her soft treads barely made a noise on the castle floors. Her mind, however, went broader than the Asclepius Record. She needed somewhere that could offer her all the Healing texts available, including texts in the Restricted Section, for herself, for Professor Fig, for Henry, for Anne even. Somewhere to train her Healing magic. Somewhere to go that wasn’t the Witty Pear if she were ever hurt, but couldn’t raise Nurse Blainey’s suspicion.

A… clinic.

Slowly, a dark cherry wood door unfurled itself from the middle of the greyed brick, and Professor Weasley gave a noise of awe.

“Well done! I do have to say, I’d never seen a wooden door before. Go on in,” encouraged the professor.

The door opened inward to something akin to a hexagonal conservatory. Some sort of conjured sunlight warmed the room from the kinmokusei glass mosaic on the ceiling. Half of the walls were made of clear glass, and beyond was a glade that closely resembled her mother’s glade. The solid walls were painted a pale sky blue, two of them nearly covered by the dark cherry bookshelves full of every other Healing text possible – delightfully, in both English and Japanese. Two Healing training mannequins stood in the corner, where the floor was tiled unlike the rest a light English Oak.

An overly large desk with an overhead glass cabinet stood against another wall, filled with potion vials and other equipment. Hanging baskets hung on the sides, and she was pleasantly surprised the ones already filled contained dwarf roses, lavender, and mints. There was an interesting-looking quill with a bronze ink bottle that stood on the side of the desk under the soft lamp light.

Artemis breathed out in awe. “What is this place?”

“This is the Room of Requirement,” started Professor Weasley. “It’s a room that changes to fit the seeker’s needs. I requested for a comfortable bedroom for you to rest in your first night.

Now, you’ve made quite a canvas for yourself. A rather interesting Desk of Description as well.”

“Desk of Description?”

“Yes. I’m sure you’ve come across a few things you didn’t know what they were; whenever you do, place it here and it’ll tell you what the item is.”

“So, like the Information spell?” Artemis asked.

Professor Weasley nodded. “Yes, though much more powerful. I daresay you could use this space to catch up on your other studies as well. Perhaps take one of those training mannequins to Nurse Blainey?”

“I- yes, Professor, thank you.”

“Speaking of studies… I noticed that Professor Fig has put in a few requests for outdoor excursions,” started Professor Weasley. “He marked them as introducing you to the land’s history and learning to immerse yourself into wizarding communities. Now I must ask… is any of this related to what happened with the dragon attack?”

“Not at all, Professor,” lied Artemis smoothly.

A moment passed between the two before Professor Weasley gave a small, tired smile.

“I see. Now, I shall let you get acquainted with your space – you’re free to use this space as you please, though I do ask you continue to adhere to the school rules.”

“Yes Professor. Thank you, for trusting me with this.”

“You’re welcome. I did, after all, show you this on your first night; I’m sure you would’ve figured out the secret sooner rather than later. Use it well,” said Professor Weasley warmly.

Artemis nodded as she watched the redhead leave. Once the door shut, her shoulders slumped in relief. Lying had been necessary but it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She reached into the legside bag and pulled out the mysterious palm-sized box that she’d gotten from the bottom of the Black Lake. She couldn’t believe it’d been a full month since she’d picked this up.

Inside sat three, translucent stones, fashioned into ear pierces onto their velvet bed. The moment she touched one the stone changed colour until it was an iridescent blue-green with a silvery shimmer on the inside.

<<How odd,>> gasped out Artemis before she placed the box onto the desktop near the ink and bottle. Bronze runes lifted from seemingly nowhere as they encircled the box in a flurry before they coagulated into a piece of parchment where the quill wrote at a furious speed. Once it had been completed, she read the words scrawled in bronze ink.

Secret Sharer

Mid-Tier artefact, commonly used to communicate between individuals telepathically if they are within a half-mile radius. Once attuned, the stone will change to the colour of their magical core. Resets upon return.

Artemis hummed as she picked up the Secret Sharer box, and repocketed it. She supposed, on occasion, it paid to explore the lakebed. Perhaps she’d invite Richard again when he came back. Or Nerida now that they’ve started floating practise in an enlarged bathtub.

But for now, she had Healing texts to read, and a mannequin to practise on.

Her fingertips glided across the book spines until she found Duality of Healing Arts, and began to read. She’d been going to the Restricted Section on twice a week with Sebastian, and had been chipping away at its contents slowly. Now, she had the luxury of reading it at her own pace without the constant threat of Madam Scribner, Peeves, or any myriads of ghosts. The contents were not as Dark as she would’ve thought, considering where it had been located, but it did touch on the ‘other’ side of Healing arts – necromancy. Artemis scrunched her nose in distaste.

The dead should remain dead, rest from the life they’d been living.

A particular spell, however, caught her attention. She pulled the mannequin manual and tapped her wand on the rune she needed. Suddenly, the mannequin was heavily lacerated - the chicken blood flowed freely in abundance onto the tiled ground. She pointed her wand, aglow in soft green light, and attempted in a sing-song incantation.

“Vulnera Sanentur.”

A Bouquet of New Beginnings Chapter 20: "Devil's Guts"

[AO3]

Floriography: Parasite

Summary: The Keepers are *actually* teachers, and Halloween with the Helm of Urtkot.

An excerpt is under the cut as usual; the full fic is located in the AO3 link above!

Long before the sun rose, she opened the grandiose double doors to the Map Chamber. The two professors slid into their frames as if they were alerted to a visitor.

“Ah, Artemis. What a pleasant surprise,” greeted Professor Rackham.

“I presume you’re here regarding our previous discussion,” said Professor Rookwood.

Artemis nodded. Yesterday’s discoveries in Feldcroft hastened her need to learn as much as she could. It was clear they wanted her, at least partially, as a hunting dog. If the size of those drills were anything to go by, they were digging for something big.

Professor Rackham cleared his throat. “We have come to a decision. With provisions, we will teach you how to hone your ancient magic.”

Artemis’ thumb subtly rubbed her scar. “Provisions, sir?”

“Yes,” started Professor Rookwood. “First, is that we decide which questions we will answer. Not to say we won’t in time, but it will depend on your trials. Second, what is taught here is to be kept between us.”

“The sole exception would be Professor Fig. There is an importance of a guiding hand,” added Professor Rackham. “Finally, we will expand on what you already know. Until you progress further in the trials, we will not teach you anything that is wholly new. Do you accept these conditions?”

It wasn’t as much as she’d like, but she’d take it. She was patient enough.

“Yes, sir.”

The professors nodded, and she was glad portraits could not read minds. She was going to take some creative liberty in comparing their teachings, the book’s contents and Sebastian’s thoughts.

“Good. I believe we should start with seeing what you can do.”

Professor Rackham waved his hand as the floor shook. The pointillistic stars lifted from their pooled map and formed a statuesque shape. Artemis whipped out her wand and had a hand on her legside bag.

“Do not worry; it will move and attack but won’t hurt you. After all, stars are a million miles away from us.”

“Percival…” deadpanned Professor Rookwood.

Professor Rackham chuckled. “Use both ancient magic and regular spells – I’d like to see it. Begin.”

For a statue made of pointillistic stars it moved abhorrently fast. She felt the arcane coolness wash through her as she dodged the sword sings and landed more than ten feet away silently. Silvery petals flitted as she brought forth the tempest. In this arena, she could see clearly how blips of ancient magic existed in the very air that surrounded her and how they wove together at the tip of her wand as it interwove with her standard spells. The oil paintings remained silent as she flung spell after spell with practiced footing.

When the stars returned to the black pool underneath, she looked back toward the portraits. Her heartrate was elevated, but her breathing was relaxed.

“Well. I daresay that was… impressive,” said Professor Rookwood.

Professor Rackham stroked his beard. “Allow me to confirm a theory. When was the first time you saw the silvery petals?”

“When I cast Protego,” answered Artemis.

“In what circumstance?”

“Ranrok’s troll tried to crush a boy in Hogsmeade.”

“I see,” said Professor Rackham. “You mentioned my ancient magic shimmered like stars before.”

“Yes, is that tied to our individual cores?” Artemis asked.

“Niamh is going to adore you,” commented Professor Rookwood.

“Correct. To start, our magical cores are different even among wizardkind. We weren’t able to research as thoroughly as Charles would’ve liked, but people like us have a few specific requirements for our magic to manifest.” Professor Rackham counted off his fingers. “A longer gestational period, a specific mixture of blood, and a powerful catalyst. The first is because we can naturally access the foundational levels of magic – latent or active. That is why when we use the same incantations and wand movements as others, the effects are slightly different. More diverse. We surmised this ability means that it takes double the time for the magical core to develop. This allows us to, for the lack of better term, soak up ancient magic around us and channel it into our spells.”

“The second,” said Professor Rookwood as he pulled out parchment, “is a specific mixture of blood. It is a theory, mind you… this ability only seemed to surface within half-bloods. Unless you would like to provide contrasting data?”

“I – frankly I don’t know my blood status, sir,” answered Artemis honestly. “Both my parents were magical, but status never came up in discussion.”

If true, then Artemis learned something new about her own lineage. She wondered who was which… not that it mattered in the end.

Professor Rookwood tutted. “Pity. I could’ve added to my notes.”

“Charles,” admonished Professor Rackham quietly. “Now, the most important – the catalyst. The gestation period, the blood – those are just the foundations. What our core needs to activate is an emotional trigger so the foundations can take root. Something profound, and it must be before the person turns sixteen.”

Artemis raised her hand out of habit. “So, there’s a chance there have been others like me, or, like us, within the past four hundred years? Just, they didn’t experience the catalyst?”

“Potentially, yes. There are many unknowns. I won’t ask of yours, but I can tell you, my catalyst… was seeing the most profound meteor storm and being completely swept in awe.”

She sucked in a breath. She knew exactly what hers was – the one-year mark when Leto and Kierston rescued her from the depths of limbo. It felt then, truly, that it was real, that they were there to stay, and she felt completely and utterly safe for the first time in years.

“The reason the catalyst is so important is because your instinctive ancient magic is tied to that trigger. Yours is, I dare say, something protective,” analysed Professor Rackham.

“The best defence is a good offense,” said Professor Rookwood.

“That tempest was a marvel, but you must learn how to control the power levels. I suggest practising by thinking of a single lightning bolt, and tempering the intensity. You will need both discipline and patience in yourself; it will not be resolved overnight. Now, I believe we’ve given you enough to digest for today. I suggest a bi-weekly visit; you will need to concentrate on your regular schooling as well,” said Professor Rackham.

“Wait, I have one more question, sir,” called out Artemis hurriedly as the portraits made to leave. She turned to Professor Rookwood. “It’s about the memory of Feldcroft. Were you able to wield ancient magic? Or did you augment Professor Rackham’s magic?”

The portraits exchanged a glance. Professor Rookwood sighed.

“I only tell you this because you’d piece it together on your own at this rate. Those of us who cannot see ancient magic cannot cast ancient magic out of nothing. But we can wield, and augment, existing pieces.”

Not ten minutes later, she sent out a letter to Professor Fig. An hour later, she sat in her designated arm chair within Professor Fig’s office with Nocturne in her lap. She spared no detail in what she’d discovered over the past two days.

Professor Fig fiddled with his scarf. “Intriguing. The fact there’s been a consistent Loyalists presence so close is disconcerting... as is the fact that it’s becoming more and more likely they’d repurposed existing ancient magic from somewhere. You did the right thing, to not engage them with Mr. Sallow.”

Artemis sighed as she sipped the warm chai. “Do you think it’s possible they’re… mining for more ancient magic? I can’t imagine the Keepers would leave ancient magic just lying about in the open.”

“Possibly. There is the matter of how they found out in the first place. With their generally reticent demeanour, I can’t imagine the Keepers left their findings in easily accessible places –”

“– Aside from Peeves,” they said in unison.

Artemis briefly smiled before her eyebrows furrowed. “Professor, is there anything we could do for Feldcroft? I just… Anne lives there and, well –”

“Considering Minister Spavin’s response about the dragon, I do not think we should bank on the front-line aurors,” said Professor Fig. “But perhaps I can call in a favour and see if patrols can be brought to the area. How is Miss Sallow?”

“She’s… unwell, but she’s trying. She’s agreed to Leto’s check-up; I’m currently waiting on his response,” answered Artemis.

The older wizard gave a small, comforting smile as he nodded. “And what about your friend? Richard Jackdaw, was it? He is helping clear up a murder case, yes?”

The grip around her cup tightened.

“Yes, but it going at a snail’s pace. It seems the Ministry is… reluctant, to release Ms. Thisbe. Citing her long stay in Azkaban and the danger she possesses to the community,” said Artemis, repeating Ms. Thistlewood’s latest missive. Nocturne’s tail swished.

“More like Azkaban made her dangerous,” sighed Professor Fig. “You’ll unfortunately find that, though there are plenty of good people that work at the Ministry – Leto, Kierston, and George to start – there are those that are not and only care for their self-interests.”

Artemis nodded as she sighed. Richard’s bones remained in the jewellery box inside her legside bag. She never parted with it; it was the safest place to keep ‘him’ until he came back. Nocturne’s and paper tongue licked her fingers.

“By the way, did you manage to meet Lodgok?”

“Not yet, sir. Sirona suggested I meet him on Halloween considering,” trailed off Artemis as she gestured to her hair. “Though, it may be best to go alone. He doesn’t trust wizards, and even with Sirona’s recommendation, he may not meet me. Especially with another person.”

Professor Fig looked at her with those English greys, and she could visualise the mental scales as he contemplated her suggestion.

“I presume this is what you would like to undertake during independent study?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. Considering everything that is at stake… you will write to me if it will be longer?”

“Of course, sir,” answered Artemis.

Professor Fig gave a relieved smile. “Right. Now, I think it’s high time for breakfast. Then we can check on the lacewings for the Polyjuice.”