The Scars to Prove It

Carina was waiting in the front hall for her multicolored friend to return from the locker rooms. She was immersed in a daydream when a tap on her shoulder brought her startlingly from her reverie. She turned around to find an uncharacteristically nervous looking Cedric Diggory.

“Hello, Carina.”

Carina was too stunned to be timid. “Evening, Cedric.”

“Professor Sprout was just telling me that you had finished all of her textbooks.”

“Erm. . .Yes, I have.” She was embarrassed. It sounded as if Professor Sprout was bragging about her, like she desired the attention.

“Yes, well, I have as well.”

“That’s nice. If there isn’t anything else. . .” She turned to walk away.

“Oh, wait! I meant to tell you about a book that my father found for me at Flourish and Blotts, a rare first edition: The Intermediate Herbologists Guide to Growing Man-Eaters and Beaters.”

Now Carina’s interest was piqued. “It sounds lovely.”

The dark haired boy nodded vigorously, though not a hair on his head swayed. “It was. Would you like to borrow it?”

“Very much so.” She glanced for the book, but his hands were empty.

“I’ve forgotten it, but I can meet you at Madame Pudifoot’s this Saturday and give it to you.”

“I can’t wait.”

With a gleaming smile, Diggory turned and left. Carina rotated to resume her search for Farren, only to find her friend leaning against a wall talking to Oliver. Farren winked over Wood’s shoulder.



Farren and Carina had commandeered the two best arm chairs by the fire after dinner. They began working on their Potions paper, but soon their heads were bent together in conversation.

“So,” Farren began, nudging Carina, “what did Pretty-boy Diggory ask you about?”

“Cedric and I are just going to meet up. He mentioned something about a good Herbology book he purchased; he was going to bring it for me to borrow.”

“Sure sounds like a date to me.”

“You would know. Excited for your date with Oliver?”

“It isn’t a date; he just wanted to talk about plays.”

“You and I both know that is an excuse to get you to meet with him.”

Farren flushed slightly. “Bugger off. It isn’t like that.”

“Mhmm,” hummed Carina. “Whatever you say.”

Farren sniffed and turned back to her essay. Her quill scratched on the parchment for a few moments. After reading it over, she made a small noise of disgust and banished the entire parchment, along with her schoolbag, back to the dormitory. Carina soon followed suit.

Seconds later, Fred, George and Lee burst into the common room causing a few first years to scatter. They strolled up to the girls and dropped to the floor in front of them.

“Where should we go first at Hogsmeade tomorrow?” asked George.

Fred responded quickly. “We’re running rather low on dungbombs, as well as biting tea cups.”

George nodded in acknowledgement and then turned to the girls. “What about you Ri?”

Carina shifted uncomfortably and avoided eye contact.

“Farren?” asked Fred.

“I have plans, and so does Carina. Sorry, boys.”

George pouted. “What?” He whined. “With who?”

The twins turned their sad eyes toward Carina, knowing she would be the first to break. She glanced out the corner of her eyes to see their faces and began to open her mouth. Seeing this, Farren did not hesitate to turn the tables on their other friend.

“Lee has been rather quiet this evening, why don’t you ask him what he’s up to.”

Like a couple of small children, the twins’ attention shifted immediately. Lee scowled up at Farren while Carina gave a small sigh of relief.

The subject of conversation soon passed from Hogsmeade to hogging the Quaffle and all manner of things in between. Soon Carina, Farren and Lee retired to their dorms.

Fred and George were left alone in the common room to devise a plan.

“We should follow the girls,” stated George.

“Stone, Parchment, Shears for who gets to follow Farren?” suggested Fred.

George nodded his assent.

“Stone! Parchment! Shears! Show!” they said simultaneously.

They tied upwards of twenty times, a rare drawback of being a twin, before George finally won: his parchment overtaking Fred’s stone. He shouted in triumph.

“Sod off,” muttered Fred.