Rick was meticulously scribbling on a parchment with his quill in his right hand, carefully sketching out architectural lines with a precision that would make a Gringotts goblin proud, while his left hand absentmindedly fed a smug looking Morrigan a crisp slice of bacon. The Great Hall was hushed, the enchanted ceiling dim with pre dawn hues, and only a handful of early risers disturbed the tranquil silence, most students were still wrapped in their blankets, chasing dreams rather than breakfast.
*caw*
Instead of feeding her himself more, Rick asked for a plate for bacon and grape fruits. A plate of both appeared in front of him and he put it to the side to let his crow eat by herself. He was too focused on what he was doing and needed his second hand to use a ruler and draw accurate and straight lines. So taken by his task was he, he didn’t notice his friends sitting next to him. Lily by his side and Marlene facing him.
“Good morning.”
“‘Morning.”
Even after a year of getting up early, thanks to Lily, Marlene was still not used to it. She learned how to do her hair in her half awake state though and that was all that mattered to her. The rest? That was Lily’s problem. Like getting her out of bed, dressed and dragging her out of their room to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. The redhead never complained, commenting instead that it was like taking care of a sleeping cat.
“What are you doing?”
Lily was leaning towards Rick to have a better look at what he was using his quill on. It was quite the surprise for her to see a bird view representation of the Great Hall and the area surrounding it.
“A map?”
“Yes.” Rick answered and put down his quill. “Good morning to you two.”
“Why are you drawing a map?”
“To remember every secret passage, shortcut and the passwords or methods to open them. There are so many I don’t think I can remember them all.”
“That will take a lot of time. What when you find a new secret passage that leads somewhere unexplored and that you need to add? The representation of the different floors and basements? The size of the whole castle, I mean you can’t draw everything on that small parchment so are you going to make multiple maps?”
At Lily’s smart questions, Rick paused mid motion, his fork frozen inches from his mouth, a bite of egg trembling at the tip. His brows drew together in thought, eyes drifting toward the ceiling as if the enchanted sky might hold the answers. Each question unraveled in his mind like a puzzle, each potential solution branching into another layer of uncertainty. Finally, with a small sigh that deflated his shoulders, he lowered his fork and rested it gently against the edge of his plate, rubbing his temple with the other hand. The mental gymnastics had clearly drained the initial enthusiasm from his face.
“My idea is so stupid,” he muttered, eyes dropping to the table as if the parchment itself was judging him. His fingers curled slightly, not in anger but in shame, like the weight of his own perceived inadequacy had pulled his posture into defeat. "I should’ve thought about it more. This was never going to work.”
“It isn’t! It’s a great idea! We just need to think a bit more about it to make it come true.”
Lily’s kind smile lifted something heavy off his chest, but what truly hit him was her choice of words, ‘we’, not ‘you’. That single syllable changed everything. It wasn’t just his wild idea anymore; it was theirs. She had claimed a stake in it as naturally as breathing, like joining his ridiculous adventure was never in question. It was moments like this that made Rick silently thank the fates, the stars, or whatever divine chaos engine ran the universe for putting her in that train compartment on the 1st of September. Not a day went by where he wasn’t quietly grateful for that seat, that timing, that unassuming twist of fate that brought her into his life.
The hoots and howls echoing through the Great Hall didn’t faze Rick in the slightest as he turned to answer Lily, eyes bright with something raw and honest. He had just started to speak, voice quiet, thoughtful, when a sharp thud interrupted him. A long, thin package landed squarely on the table before them with such force and finality it felt like a punctuation mark to a sentence never spoken. The sheer abruptness of it startled even Marlene awake, her head snapping up as if yanked by an invisible string, eyes wide with groggy confusion.
“Morgana’s… What is this?!”
The trio eyed the long, narrow brown package like it had just been delivered by a winged sphinx wearing sunglasses. With over two thirds of its length resembling the shaft of a high grade racing broom and the end flaring out like the head of a thistle, there was no mistaking what it was.
Rick raised an eyebrow at Marlene, who mirrored his look with curious suspicion, and then tore through the wrapping paper like it had personally insulted his intelligence. Inside lay a gleaming Nimbus 1000, pitch black with elegant silver filigree tracing the handle, an unmistakable masterpiece. It was nearly identical to the model he had longed for during his Diagon Alley visit on August 1st, so much so that his heart skipped a beat, until he noticed the subtle discrepancy in the serial number, proving it was not that exact broom, but undeniably one of its elite siblings.
“I thought you were happy with your Comet 360?” Rick asked the blonde.
“I am! I don’t think my father or mother sent this. Anyone from my family in fact.”
“Then wh-”
“It’s for you.”
Lily interrupted him by tapping her finger insistently on a part of the torn wrapping paper, where an envelope was neatly glued. The name inscribed in graceful cursive, "To Rick Wald," stared back at him in deep emerald ink. Leaning closer, Rick examined the envelope as if expecting it to change, then reluctantly accepted the truth. There was no mistake. The broom was, without a doubt, meant for him.
“I don’t… Who would send me a broom? Especially a Nimbus 1000, this model is worth 300 Galleons!”
“Amelia?” Lily wondered aloud.
“No. Even though Amelia’s family has the means, I doubt she would. Such a sum would need her father’s approval and I don’t see him giving it.”
“Is there a card or a note?” Marlene wondered.
Rick sifted through the torn wrapping paper with growing urgency, lifting flaps, shaking folds, and even tipping the box upside down in hopes of a hidden clue fluttering out. Nothing. Not even a cryptic symbol or a scrawled initial. He stared at the elegant broom for another long moment, its polished handle gleaming with quiet pride, as if it too knew it was an enigma. Finally, with a conflicted sigh, he stood up from the table, broom in hand, ready to leave the mystery behind, at least for now.
“Aaaah!”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Lily had grabbed his ear with one hand and yanked him back down into his seat with the practiced ease of someone who'd done it before, and wasn't above doing it again. Her expression was the textbook definition of unimpressed: one eyebrow raised, lips pursed, and eyes narrowed with all the stern authority of a prefect catching a first year sneaking sweets. She wasn’t just displeased, she was the walking embodiment of 'absolutely not.'
“I hope you’re not going outside to try it, right?”
“Why wouldn’t- Ahh! Lily! It really hurts!”
She took the broom from his hand and released his ear.
“You can’t just ride a broom whose origins or its sender, you don’t know! It could be cursed!”
“Who would spend 300 galleons on such a beautiful broom then curse it with the purpose to harm me?! There are better and cheaper ways! Besides, I’m muggle born, I know no one important in the wizarding world, I can’t have pissed anyone off!”
“He has a point, Lily.”
“It’s still suspicious. I’d rather have professor Flitwick check the broom for anything nefarious than visit you at the infirmary.”
“...Okay, that’s fair.”
This time it was Lily who stood up and left the Great Hall, Morrigan swooping gracefully onto her shoulder with a self important caw. Flitwick had yet to arrive for breakfast, and she made a swift decision to store the Nimbus safely in her dormitory, far from Rick’s impulsive reach. Meanwhile, Rick watched with a mixture of yearning and wounded pride as the sleek broomstick, his broomstick, was whisked away under Lily's protective custody. It felt like watching a piece of his heart being marched off in chains. His shoulders slumped, and a faint, almost theatrical sigh escaped him. Marlene, biting into a buttered scone, didn’t even try to hide the dramatic eye roll she cast his way.
Rick tried to distract himself from the broom by picking up his quill and returning to the parchment he'd been sketching on before his friends arrived. The familiar motion of the quill, the scratch of ink on parchment, it should have grounded him. But the weight of his earlier doubts clung to him like damp robes. His eyes drifted over the lines he'd drawn, some precise, others wobbly where hesitation had crept in, and with a frustrated grunt, he tossed the quill onto the table, the nib splattering a faint blot of ink. Letting his forehead drop onto the parchment, he let out a groan muffled by paper and ink. The morning had started with promise and bacon. Now he wasn’t sure if it was a good day or one that had simply fooled him into thinking it might be.
Lily came back ten minutes later without Morrigan, she sent a confused and quizzical look at Marlene who just shrugged. She didn’t know either what was with Rick. It couldn’t be just about the broom or Rick wouldn’t have let it go. While most of the time he was more uncaring about things than anything, sometimes he was stubborn to the extreme, especially when something he liked was involved. The redhead sat back down next to her dirty blonde friend and finished her breakfast. Once done, she and Marlene dragged him away for their first class of the day: Potions.
The class turned out to be just what Rick needed to shake off the lingering fog of frustration. A flawlessly brewed potion and a correct answer to a tricky question earned him 15 points for Gryffindor, no small feat, and certainly enough to draw approving nods from Slughorn. Surprisingly, neither Potter nor Black made any moves to sabotage him this time. Perhaps they’d learned their lesson after the last attempt backfired, literally.
In a previous class, they had managed to toss a chunk of pungent onion into Rick’s cauldron, ruining the potion and nearly fumigating the classroom. Rick, furious but composed, brought the matter to the attention of the Slytherin Head, not to get revenge, though he sorely wanted to, but to ensure it wouldn’t happen again. Slughorn taught him a specific shield charm for such occasions, and Rick had deployed it without fault ever since.
When Potter and Black tried again, the onion rebounded mid air and splattered against their faces. The resulting stench clung to them for two whole weeks, leading to a loss of 25 points each and a solid week of detention. Gryffindor house was livid, not only because of the lost points, but because they’d targeted one of their own. Even their usual fans couldn't muster much sympathy after that incident.
At the end of Potions, the students transitioned into a double period of Charms. This time, Rick found himself partnered not with Marlene or Lily, but with a Ravenclaw girl he hadn't spoken to much before, Pandora Ellesmere. She was a tall, graceful witch with icy blue eyes and platinum blonde hair pulled back in a meticulous braid that gave her a rather statuesque appearance. Rick mentally noted, with a touch of dry humor, that he really ought to befriend someone with darker hair, so far, every witch he knew seemed to be either a redhead or a blonde with eye colors that could pierce through fog.
To her credit, Pandora was smart. Exceptionally so. She operated at the same academic tier as Lily or himself, and she wielded her wand with an elegance that reminded Rick of a concert violinist mid performance. While she was reserved and almost painfully succinct in everyday conversation, the moment the subject turned to Charms, she came alive, articulate, focused, and brimming with ideas that she delivered like spells themselves: crisp, efficient, and with pinpoint clarity.
During class, they studied the engorgement charm and its counterpart, the shrinking charm. Unsurprisingly, Rick mastered it on the first try, as did Lily and Pandora. But instead of stopping there, Rick began experimenting further, attempting to isolate the spell’s effect to shrink only a specific portion of an object rather than the whole. Pandora, intrigued, leaned closer and asked what he was trying to accomplish. When he explained his goal, shrinking just the feathery portion of a quill, her eyes lit up with interest. The practical implications sparked her imagination, and the two fell into a lively discussion about targeted spell application and potential real world use cases.
Their animated exchange quickly caught Lily’s attention from the adjacent desk. She gave Marlene a quick glance, who seemed to have the charm well in hand, then slid over to join the conversation. The trio soon became so engrossed in their joint efforts to shrink only part of a quill that Flitwick, wandering between desks, noticed their collective focus and curiosity. Drawn in by both their enthusiasm and the novelty of their experiment, he paused beside them, watching with growing interest as they tried to isolate the feathery tip of the quill from the shaft using delicate wand movements and whispered the charm.
“Why would you want to shrink only a part of an object?”
“Because only that part needs it, professor.” Pandora answered bluntly.
“Like… one of your sleeves is bigger than the other?” was the example Lily provided while Rick was more general.
“Because the object is ill proportioned or because we need it to be ill proportioned.”
Fillius paused, a thoughtful hum vibrating in his throat as he stroked his chin. "Curious application," he finally mused aloud. "Uncommon, yes, but far from useless. I’ll need to experiment with the casting parameters myself. Thank you for the inspiration." Just then, the shrill clang of the bell signaled the end of class. Students surged toward the door in a flurry of robes and chatter, leaving behind a clearing calm. Only Rick and Lily lingered at their desks, quietly packing up while Marlene leaned just outside the door, tapping her foot with theatrical impatience.
“Miss Evans, Mister Wald, what can I do for you?”
“Ladies first.” Rick said, making a sign of invitation with his hand to Lily.
“Rick received a broom from an unknown sender this morning. I’m worried it might be jinxed or even cursed and I was hoping you could have a look at it?”
“Certainly. Unknown you say?”
“There was just his name on the wrapping paper.”
“Hm. It’s good you came to me with this. It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing happened.”
“With a 300 galleon broom ?!” exclaimed the new broom owner in shock.
“Oh, yes. People rarely are cheap when it’s about hurting someone else, Mister Wald, especially the ones who have the means. Keep that in mind.”
“When can I bring it to you, professor?” Lily inquired.
“Before dinner. I’ll be in my office then.”
Rick asked the only important question which mattered for him. “Would that take long?”
“A month to be sure everything is in order. More if there are some things to worry about and undo.”
Rick’s shoulders slumped with visible disappointment, his expression clouded by the weight of dashed hopes. Lily, ever attuned to his moods, reached out and rested a reassuring hand between his shoulder blades. Her touch was light but grounding, like a silent reminder that he didn’t have to carry the burden alone, that she was there, and always would be, through map mishaps and cursed broomsticks alike.
“Anything else?”
“Actually, yes. I started the project of drawing a map of the castle only… doing it by hand has proven complicated and inefficient. Is there a spell that-”
“Carta delinea. It’s a simple spell which traces up to twenty feet the surroundings of the one who uses the spell.”
“So if I want to map Hogwarts, I would have to use the spell every twenty feet. It’s going to take years…”
“I wouldn’t go that far but it would take some time, yes.”
“How does the spell work exactly?”
“Oh, it’s trivial, you just point your wand at a parchment, with a pot of ink nearby and the surroundings draw themselves.”
“What about floors?” asked Lily, who suddenly got into the conversation with interest.
For the magical aspect but also because Rick was her friend, and this project clearly mattered to him. More than that, though, Lily still felt a twinge of guilt over confiscating the Nimbus earlier that morning. Even if she’d been right to do it, she hadn’t missed the flash of disappointment on Rick’s face. Helping him now felt like a way to balance the scales, to give back in a way that showed she cared about more than just rules and safety. It wasn’t just an apology. It was participation. Commitment. A quiet promise to stand by him, even in his strangest ideas.
“They are represented in another part of the map. Separated. That’s why I would advise a very big parchment, Mister Wald.” answered the half goblin.
Rick thanked Professor Flitwick and exited the classroom with Lily, his steps noticeably lighter than they’d been before. The morning had begun with self doubt and disappointment, but it was ending on a melody. His map project now had magical backing, the broom had a path forward, and most importantly, his friends were by his side. A subtle hum escaped his lips. He didn’t notice he was doing it, but Lily did. She smiled quietly to herself and said nothing, letting him walk beside her with his newfound optimism glowing like the sun cresting the castle’s turrets.
“What happened that he’s so cheerful?” Marlene asked as she took Lily’s arm in her own.
“Professor Flitwick gave him the name of a spell to make his map.”
“Oh boy. We’re going to spend our whole free time mapping the whole castle, aren’t we?” winced Marlene.
“I thought you liked exploring?” Lili says with a bit of confusion in her tone.
“I do. Just not… all the time.”
“It’s fine. He has quidditch practice for two hours every second day, now. Plenty of free time for you. You could also, you know, tell him you’re not interested.”
“And break his heart? No way.” the blonde replied with humor, making Lily chuckle.
“You’re exaggerating. Disappointed, yes but heartbroken? I can’t see it.”
Both knew how fiercely independent Rick was. It was something they’d witnessed time and again, whether it was him slipping away to tinker with some half formed spell or vanishing into the library to chase down a random theory he’d dreamed up at breakfast. Rick didn’t ask for permission, and he didn’t seek validation; he just did. It was part of what made him brilliant, and part of what made keeping up with him feel like chasing a comet through a forest of mysteries.
“True but you could at least make me think he can’t live without me.”
“He’ll just replace you with Ellesmere.” Lily joked to get a raise out of Marlene. It worked.
“Oh hell no! I’m the one blonde witch in his life! Not that brainy! You’re just saying that because Amelia is a redhead too and you feel threatened!”
“I’m not,” Lily said a bit too quickly, her brows knitting together in a faint frown. But the spark of unease in her voice betrayed her, as if the very idea of not being the redhead in Rick’s life poked at something buried and possessive inside her. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her, but it did, more than she wanted to admit.
“Uh huh. You can’t do more unconvincing.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s our best friend, we’re his best friends and no one will get between us. He won’t let them and we will not either.”
“That’s true.”
They would have had to be utterly oblivious not to see just how much Rick cared for them. His kindness and attentiveness toward them went above and beyond, surpassing even how he treated Amelia, perhaps. He was thoughtful in the smallest of ways, remembered things they mentioned offhand, and made them feel understood without ever needing to say much. That quiet consistency wrapped around them like a comforting enchantment. Knowing he was like that only with them filled them with a quiet joy, a kind of emotional exclusivity that made them feel not just appreciated, but genuinely special.
They made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, sunlight slanting through the enchanted ceiling in golden beams that bathed the long house tables in warm light. The chatter of students and clink of cutlery filled the air like a familiar song. Rick was already seated at the Gryffindor table, absently munching on a piece of bread while his eyes skimmed the pages of a thick tome titled Magical Topography and Wizarding Cartography. He looked up and gave them a small smile as they joined him, scooting slightly to make room.
On the teacher's dais, Professor Flitwick sat perched atop his magically elevated cushion at his usual spot beside Minerva McGonagall. The Charms professor was cheerfully tucking into a fruit tart, humming a tune no doubt from his student choir group, while Minerva sipped tea and cast occasional glances over her spectacles at the sea of red and gold before her. There was something almost fond in her eyes when they landed on Rick.
“You wouldn’t have paid for a broom for one of your students, perchance?”
She gave Filius a sideways glance wondering what he was on about and the short charm teacher didn’t miss it.
“Mister Wald received a broom as a gift this morning from an anonymous sender. Miss Evans is worried it might be cursed to do him harm and asked me to check on it.” he explained.
After a moment of reflection, Minerva spoke a few words, hoping the conversation would not go any further.
“I think your time would be better used on something else, Fillius.”
“Minerva, really? From what I heard it’s a 300 galleon broom!” he whispered to her.
“Then whoever sent it to Mister Wald must believe he needed it and expect great things from him.”
“Is it more about doing something nice for the boy or the quidditch cup?” he replied with a flat and unimpressed tone.
“Who knows? Not like both options are mutually exclusive. In any case, I’m glad Mister Wald got something nice. Merlin knows he earned it and needed something good in his life.”
Filius didn’t comment on that. He was well aware of his student situation in life. And he couldn’t help but feel the same as his colleague and friend. The young man was full of qualities and virtues that didn’t leave any of the teachers uncaring. A smart, polite and kind one who should not have been the kind of result his upbringing have produced.
“I promised a month of study at the very least.”
“A month! The next game is this week end!”
Minerva was appalled and outraged. She was hoping for a victory from her house against Slytherin on the pitch.
“That’s the minimum time to completely check a broom with the available time I have. I can’t very well give him the broom back and say I know who sent it to him. Not when you made sure to stay anonymous.”
“...Fine. Give him back the broom but don’t name me. He’s smart enough to figure it out on his own but I don’t want rumors to spread about me playing favorites.”
“Which you do.” he teased.
“So do you.” she replied with a glare.
“Touché. Don’t worry, your… ‘secret’ is safe with me. Still to go that far for quidditch...”
“It’s Slytherin.”
That was the only remark Minerva made about Fillius' comment, but it carried the weight of a howler whispered under breath. He understood the depth behind it immediately, reading more into her tone than the words themselves. Minerva had never been one to dwell on personal losses, but everyone who taught at Hogwarts for long enough knew the story. She’d been a rising star on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, a chaser with the kind of reflexes scouts drooled over. Her career was all but secured, until a brutal and clearly deliberate foul by a Slytherin player during her final game shattered her hopes of going professional. The injury ended her playing days and etched a scar deeper than bone. Her disdain for the Slytherin team wasn’t just house rivalry, it was personal history written in pain and denied dreams.
It didn’t help that Slytherin had been lording over the Quidditch Cup for the past four years, and not always cleanly. Even Fillius had quietly admitted the pattern of suspicious calls and conveniently missed fouls. While he was no Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, he still had a sense of fairness, and even he wouldn’t mind seeing Gryffindor take the Cup this year. It was time for a change, and perhaps, a bit of poetic justice.