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navybluehues · 4 years

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The Letter Pt. 1

summary; a game of wizard’s chess with one of your closest friends is interrupted by a devastating letter.

there’ll be fluff eventually, but it’ll be a slow burn with some angst along the way. ;)

scribbler’s note; i’ll be honest, i have no idea whether i should make this barnaby/fem!mc, murph/fem!mc, oor … someone else?? idk idk let me know what you think!

warning; people throw hands. that’s about it

word count; 1,500ish

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“Queen to G5. Aaand … Checkmate.”

“Really? Again??”

You couldn’t help the smug smile that crossed your lips, finding some amusement in Murphy’s exasperation. “I bet you wish that you hadn’t borrowed me that book on Wizard Chess stratagem.”

Murphy crossed his arms as he mulled over the last several moves that got them to that point. He finally recognized the maneuver as one from the book, albeit a little too late. You set the trap and he had fallen right into it. “Well, I didn’t think you’d actually read it ...”

You snorted. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Murphy couldn’t deny that you had a point there. You were known as a voracious reader when it came to learning a new skill that you had an interest in. It was one of the qualities that landed you in Ravenclaw, despite being born into a family of well-known Gryffindors. He should’ve known better than to gamble with that. Sighing, he threw up his hands in defeat. “Fair enough. Care for another round?”

“I have to go to class in a bit, but sure. This shouldn’t take long.” The implication of the statement wasn’t lost on him and he chuckled sarcastically, resetting the board. “You’re right it won’t, because now that I’m onto you and your tricks. I’d say the odds of me wiping the floor with you in 5 minutes is at a staggering 98.5%”

Just as you had started sorting out your first move, your thoughts were interrupted by the flutter of wings. You looked up in time to recognize the unmistakable plumage of your father’s Eagle Owl as it came soaring in. It settled on the table next to you and much to Murphy’s vexation, knocked over many of the game pieces in the process. You smiled apologetically, “I’m sorry, he forgets his size sometimes.”

The massive owl trilled contentedly when you stroked him, releasing the letter into your grasp. It had been months since you last heard from your parents. They had adamantly discouraged you from digging into your brother’s affairs over the last few years but as persistent as you were, they’d come to expect it from you. In the end, they simply resigned themselves to asking that you be careful. However, after the last letter you’d sent as an update to your progress, they had gone silent. You had been wondering if you might’ve gone too far and so you couldn’t deny that you were relieved to hear from them finally. That was, until you opened the letter …

Murphy craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the letter and its contents. “Well? What does it say??”

You were silent, taking in the words. You didn’t even react when the owl flapped his massive wings and took his leave. Murphy frowned. “(Y/N)...?” He was interrupted when he heard someone trip on his chair at the end of the table. He instinctively turned to apologize, as it was a fairly common occurrence for people to accidentally stumble on the chair if they weren’t paying attention. Expecting to find some hapless student, he was surprised to see Ismelda’s delighted smirk instead. She gave the chair another firm kick and it managed to distract him enough not to notice Merula as she came up behind you. “What’s this…?” She inquired, snatching the letter from you.

“Merula!” You snapped, grasping at the letter as she held it just out of reach.

“What are you so worried about, (L/N)? Got something here that you don’t want us to know about? Good.” She snickered, unable to hide her growing amusement as her eyes flitted across the script.

Murphy rolled his eyes at her and reached for the letter when she made her way around to his side of the table. Unfortunately, Merula had stepped back just enough to dodge his attempt. “Merula, will you just bugger off, already? Don’t you have some sorry first year to bully out of his galleons?”

“Sure, but I’d never miss out on the chance to share my condolences for [Y/N]’s late brother. So sad …” Merula pouted, her voice dripping with malice as she pretended to dab at her eye with the corner of her sleeve. You pursed your lips, staring hard at the Wizard Chess board in front of you. The edge in Murphy’s voice softened when he turned to look at you from across the table. “[Y/N]? What is she talking about?”

“Haven’t you heard? Everyone thinks that Jacob’s dead. Even her PARENTS!!” She grinned, waving the letter triumphantly. “Everyone, except for [Y/N] here. You really are the stupidest Ravenclaw there is.”

Merula and Ismelda laughed amongst themselves while Barnaby exchanged a concerned look with Murphy. He might have been a little dense, but even he seemed to understand that this would not end well. “Uh. Merula, we’re going to be late for Charms. Let’s go-”

The Slytherin scoffed. “Please. I wouldn’t miss this for all the House Points Hogwarts had to offer. Go on, be a gentleman and say that you’re sorry for her loss.” Barnaby stiffened, glancing from her to you and back again. “I … Merula, if we’re late again, Flitwick will have our heads.”

“We’re not leaving until you say that you’re sorry for her loss.” Merula sneered at him. He didn’t appreciate her tone, but the more he thought on it … if [Y/N]’s brother were truly dead, wouldn’t that actually be the decent thing to do? Barnaby scratched the back of his head and turned towards you. “[Y/N], I -”

Before he’d had the opportunity to finish his thought, you had shot up from your seat. By then, the attention of the entire hall was on your table, hushed murmurs rippling through the room as you drew your wand and aimed it right at Merula. She was clearly taken aback by the gesture but with the eyes of the other students upon her, a good portion of them from her own house, she managed a hollow laugh. “W-what’s wrong, [L/N]? Don’t you want the support of your mates during these trying times?”

There was a cruel look in your eye, one that neither Murphy nor Barnaby had ever seen before even when you dueled. It made the normally demure, even-keeled Ravenclaw that you were nearly unrecognizable. You said nothing, grip tightening around your wand. Undeterred and with her reputation on the line, Merula pulled out her own wand. “Come on then, [L/N]. Let’s see what you’ve go-.”

You sent a blast of energy towards her and she had to stumble out of the way to avoid it. Merula looked over her shoulder to the smoking black spot on the wall behind her. “HEY! That's not fair! I wasn’t ready!”

“Merula!! Look out!” Ismelda shouted. Before she could register what was happening, you had bounded across the table and landed a punch square across her jaw. Merula reeled backwards from the blow, catching herself on the table behind her where the students had already scattered to get out of the way. She gaped at you. “[L/N]! What the hell?!”

Your response came in the form of a shove, which threw off her balance enough to bring her to the ground. It was in that moment, standing over her, that your family’s reputation for having a mean streak was actualized. You felt fire in your veins when you straddled her, landing blow after blow across the disarmed girl’s face. Merula grabbed at your robes in a feeble attempt to defend herself, managing to claw at your face enough to redden the vision in your right eye. You still didn’t relent, pouring every sleepless night, every holiday without your brother, every ounce of bottled-up guilt, grief and anger into mercilessly pummeling Merula. Not even Barnaby could manage to pry you off of her. It took the combined efforts of both him and Andre to wrestle you away from her and by then, she was teetering on the edge of consciousness.

You struggled against the boys as they forced you backwards into the uproarious crowd that had gathered. It was all that they could do to put distance between the two of you. You tearfully shouted and cursed until your throat was raw, though you couldn’t begin to comprehend what you were saying. Any attempt to coax you out of your frenzy only seemed to anger you further until finally, you managed to twist around enough to slap one of them. You froze when you saw Barnaby staring at you, his opposite hand held against the red mark on his cheek. All at once, the fire in your veins was extinguished and all that was left was a pitiful, smoldering ember of a girl.

Without another word, you shook them off and pushed past them. You had taken off in a sprint out of the Great Hall before anyone could stop you. Where were you going? You couldn’t say. Anywhere was fine, as long as it was far, far away from there.

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