Languages I have attempted to learn in the past: German (my throat suffered so much), Spanish (mandatory in HS), Korean
As the title of this blog indicates, this is where I like just being me. I like to share all the various things that interest me here on my main blog. Which is why I have a collection of sideblogs:
@fics-she-wrote (mix of HPHL & HPHM story not part of the main storyline, where I am more likely to experiment)
@fiction-she-read (my reactions to passages from books and my book reviews)
@nothingtowear05 (my fashion sideblog)
I have a few other sideblogs, but they are mostly just for me to dump stuff or I have yet to actually do something with them. Also, these sideblogs are exclusively for my content. Reblogs are done on my main (this blog).
On the first anniversary of Rowan's death, Alice finds that grief is a lonely thing to carry. Simon shows her she doesn't have to carry it alone.
Alice sat on the small jetty near Hagrid's hut, her boots hanging over the black water as she watched the moonlight tremble across the lake in broken silver. The February cold seeped up through the damp boards and into her bones. She’d come here often since her first week at Hogwarts, back when this place had been a sanctuary from school-sized troubles: Merula’s potion sabotage, corridor whispers, the constant pressure of keeping up. Even the search for her brother had felt like something she could survive.
Now, the lake looked the same, but nothing else did. Today had been the first anniversary of Rowan’s death. One year since the flash of green that had split the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. One year since Rakepick had taken away her best friend. One year since her world had been turned upside down. One year…
People said time healed all wounds, and yet. Even if Rakepick had been caught and left to rot in Azkaban, even if the vaults had all been dealt with, even if she had found her brother, it didn’t change the empty space beside Alice in the library, the missing laugh in the Great Hall, the hole in her heart. Nothing fitted properly anymore.
Her friends had tried. They offered food, jokes, distractions. They avoided any mentions of death, as if it were a hex. They meant well, but the day had felt like a secret she was carrying alone. Charlie had looked at her over breakfast and asked why she was so gloomy. She’d stared at him until he remembered. Even then, his face had only softened in belated understanding.
Only one person actually understood what she was going through, because loss lived in him too…
“Alice?”
Speak of the devil. Her mouth tugged into a thin, rueful almost-smile, akin to a crack in the ice. “You remembered, didn’t you?”
“How could I not.” He stayed standing a few steps behind her, hands in his pockets. “She was my friend too.”
Alice kept her eyes on the lake. If she looked at him, she might unravel. “I know. It’s just… The others don’t seem to—”
Simon lowered himself to sit beside her, the boards creaking softly. “Ben’s been sombre all day. Barnaby spent his entire free period surrounded by crups. And Merula’s barely spoken a word—”
“That’s unusual.” The words came out flat.
“Exactly.” His gaze followed the ripples out into the darkness. “Except for Barnaby, we were all there when it happened. I don’t think that… image will ever fade from our memory.”
Alice’s fingers worried at a splinter in the jetty until it snapped off under her nail. She glanced at him, not a boy anymore, not for a long time. No one at eighteen should have seen as much death as he had, or learned grief so intimately. “Does it ever go away?”
He didn’t need to ask what she meant. He simply shook his head. “Not really. It dulls. But it’s always there, mind you, waiting. The right word, the right light, and you’re back in it.” He paused. “Like a scar. Still there long after you’ve stopped bleeding.”
Alice’s gaze returned to the still surface of the lake. “I’m sorry.”
Simon’s head snapped towards her. “Don’t. Don’t you dare—”
A tear slid down her cheek, warm. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on top as if it might hold her together. “If I hadn’t gone after those vaults, chased after Rakepick, Rowan would still be alive. Ben wouldn’t be trying to defy death every chance he got. And you…” Her voice cracked. “You wouldn’t have another—”
“Alice, look at me.”
His voice was so steady that her eyes were drawn straight to his.
“Rakepick is the one to blame,” he said, each word deliberate. “She’s the one who betrayed your brother, she’s the one who betrayed you in fifth year, she’s the one who killed Rowan. None of this is on you.”
Alice’s breath hitched. “Tell that to the part of me that keeps replaying that night, over and over,” she whispered. “The green light. Rowan’s face. The way everything just… stopped.”
Something flickered behind Simon’s eyes, like he was watching another memory unfold in the dark. “I know.”
That was Simon: no grand gesture, no hollow comfort. Just him, here.
“I hate that I’m still so angry,” she admitted. “Not just at Rakepick. At everyone who gets to laugh today as if the world didn’t change. At myself for laughing yesterday.”
“You’re allowed,” he said quietly. “To laugh, to cry, to be angry. To forget for a moment. Rowan wouldn’t want you to stop living for her sake.”
Alice blinked hard as her vision blurred. “But when I’m not thinking about it, about her, I feel like I’m leaving her behind.”
“She’s not gone,” Simon murmured. “Not really. Every time you go down a research rabbit hole in the library, that’s her. Every terrible pun you pretend to hate. That’s where she is now. She’ll always be with you, forever.”
A weak laugh escaped her. “That’s terribly cheesy of you, Selwood.”
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “I have my moments.” He looked out over the water, and for a second, the moonlight caught in his eyes. “Suppose that’s how Rowan stays with me.”
“She did rather have a knack for dreadful one-liners.” Alice closed her eyes, the memory of Rowan’s grin hurting like pressing on a bruise.
They fell quiet. For a long moment they listened to the gentle lap of water against the jetty. Somewhere behind them an owl called, the sound cutting through the night like a thread.
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Beaumont, we’ve already—”
“I’m not apologising for that.” She swallowed. “I’m apologising because I never asked you how you were doing. I just assumed you were… getting on with it. Because you always do. And yet, I’m sure it brought back some painful memories.”
Simon nodded, slow. “It’s not like it suddenly brought back the memory of my parents’ murder; that’ll never go away.” His jaw tightened. “It just brought the grief back to the surface. Hadn’t felt that way in ages.” He let out a shaky breath. “Angry, always, as you know. Some nights I can’t sleep unless I count every breath until morning. And some mornings I wake up and it hits me all over again that they’re all gone, and I have to pretend it doesn’t affect me while I tie my tie.”
“Like this morning?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Like this morning.”
They sat shoulder to shoulder without touching, close enough that the space between them felt deliberate.
“I miss her so much.”
“I know.”
“Sometimes, I find myself wanting to tell her something,” Alice said, staring at the place where moonlight broke on the water. “And then I remember that I can’t.”
“You can talk to me, you know.”
“I don’t want to lumber you with my demons, Simon. You have enough of your own.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “You’ll never be a burden to me, Alice.”
That made her look at him. Whatever was in his face, it wasn't pity, only recognition and understanding that came at too high a price.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Always.”
A/N: Hope you enjoyed yourselves. Well, as much as someone can enjoy a fic revolving around grief. The "first week of Hogwarts" bit is a small reference to this fic.
We made this for an event with the Writers' Guild of Alberta to fight the book bans in our province. Feel free to use it, and if you want to fill in the "support a trans author" square, consider becoming a paid patron of Making Queer History!
Please call your representatives: VOTE NO on the FEDERAL BOOK BANNING BILLS HR 2616, HR 8705, and HR 7661!
Transcript below the cut.
Page 1:
There are currently THREE FEDERAL BOOK BAN BILLS aiming to ban all TRANS BOOKS from U.S. public schools! HR 2616, HR 8705, HR 7661
June 2026 / Maia Kobabe (a trans author, for three years in a row the most challenged author in the U.S.)
Page 2:
HR 2616 threatens to cut federal funding from public schools if they “teach or advance concepts related to gender ideology,” as defined by an Executive Order signed by Trump in Jan 2025. It would also cut funding from schools unless they require “parental consent before changing a minor's gender markers, pronouns, or preferred name on any school form.” HR 2616 HAS ALREADY PASSED IN THE HOUSE! Please call your Senators to say NO ON HR 2616!
Page 3:
HR 8705 threatens to cut federal funding from public schools which teach “discriminatory equity ideology or gender ideology,” as defined by two Executive Orders aimed at suppressing “critical race theory” and trans representation. This bill is named after the late far-right activist Charlie Kirk, “The Charlie Act.” HR 8705 has passed out of committee, but has not yet been introduced in the House. Please call your House Reps to say NO ON HR 8705!
Page 4:
HR 7661 threatens to cut federal funding from public schools which offer material deemed “sexually oriented," treating any LGBTQIA+ identity as sexual content. It specifically forbids “gender dysphoria or transgenderism,” and “lascivious dancing” (drag). This bill, titled “Stop the Sexualization of Children Act,” has 22 co-sponsors and has passed out of committee but has not yet been introduced to the House. Please call your House Reps to say NO ON HR 7661!
Page 5:
CALL SCRIPTS
“My name is [name] and I’m calling from [city, state, zip code]. I’m asking [Senator] to vote no on HR 2616. I oppose HR 2616 because it would restrict student’s access to books and it would specifically harm trans, nonbinary, and intersex students. Please stand against book bans and protect queer students!”
“My name is [name] and I’m calling from [city, state, zip code]. I’m asking [Rep] to vote no on HR 8705 and HR 7661. I oppose these bills because they would restrict student’s access to books and accurate history, and would especially harm BIPOC, trans, nonbinary, and intersex students. Please stand against book bans and support public education funding!”
Page 6:
Author Maia Kobabe: If HR 2616, HR 8705, or HR 7661 pass, it would be almost impossible for any public school in the U.S. to offer or teach my books, unless they’re willing to risk their federal funding. Students would be even less likely to learn about trans stories or accurate U.S. history.
Page 7:
Please call your representatives: VOTE NO on the FEDERAL BOOK BANNING BILLS HR 2616, HR 8705, and HR 7661!
Follow AUTHORS AGAINST BOOK BANS on insta & bluesky for updates on these bills!
insta / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my books / print store / bluesky
Maia always makes these actions clear and accessible and I so appreciate eir work.
If you don't know who your Senators or Representatives are, you can use Ballotpedia's Who Represents Me tool! (Note: there's a field for you to input your email address on their page, but it's not necessary to get your results. They just need a mailing address to confirm who your reps are.)
Once you've got names, you can look up and save your Reps' phone numbers in your phone. I find this makes it easier when I'm wavering about feeling brave enough to place a call. Just pressing a button instead of going and looking up the phone number all over again makes it just a liiiiittle easier, and sometimes that makes the difference between calling and not calling!
I know it’s a classic trope, but I’ve always wanted to draw Sebastian swooping in to save a Muggle-born OC from bullies, so I’m really glad I finally got to do it.
Hopefully I can share the continuation soon🔥
At Hogwarts, Alice Beaumont has a reputation: nose perpetually buried in a book, mind perpetually circling the mystery of the Cursed Vaults. But between Charms practice with Rowan, "arrangements" bartered for Dittany leaves, and a quietly negotiated stash of Boomslang skin, Alice is learning that her greatest asset isn't a rare ingredient or a clever spell; it's the people who see straight through her.
A tale of friendship, mischief, and the quiet art of knowing someone too well, where the most dangerous magic might just be how closely these friends pay attention to each other.
Hogwarts’ library was always busy once lessons had finished for the day. Students drifted in to start on newly assigned work as the late-afternoon light slanted in long, golden bars through the tall windows, catching the slow drift of dust motes above the rows of bookcases. Quills scratched against parchment, and somewhere in the stacks, a student hissed as he flipped pages with a hint of aggressivity that suggested the book was refusing to give up whatever information he was after. Along the tables and desks, the lamps began to glow of their own accord as the sun dipped lower, as if charmed to know exactly when their light would be needed.
But Alice Beaumont didn’t notice any of it. She was far too absorbed in her book. No, not some ancient text that would help her in the vaults quest. It was a French novel about four men who had once been brothers-in-arms, but were now on opposing sides of a conflict far beyond their control. She was enthralled.
Across from her, Simon Selwood was reading a rather voluminous book about some obscure branch of magic. Other books on similar subjects surrounded him, forming a small fortress, their spines carefully angled so that Alice, or any casual onlooker, couldn’t see the titles. He took a quick look at his watch, then cleared his throat, glancing at Alice.
Nothing.
He cleared it again, more pointedly this time, and that did the trick. Alice blinked, surfacing from her story, eyebrows lifting as she stared at him, clearly wondering why he’d interrupted her literary adventure. She got her answer when her gaze landed on the clock above the library’s entrance.
“Oh, for Merlin’s…” she muttered. She shoved the novel into her bag and swung the strap over her shoulder, before making her way towards the door. Just before she crossed the threshold, she stopped, turned back, rummaged through her bag, and set a small paper bag of Chocolate Frogs next to Simon’s books. “Don’t forget to eat something,” she said before walking briskly out of the library.
One corner of Simon’s mouth quirked upwards.
As Alice left the library, she walked straight into someone. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you— Rowan?”
“I reckoned you'd be here. Any time you’re late to one of our meetings, it’s because you were in the library, your nose buried in a book.”
Alice smiled sheepishly as heat crept up her cheeks. “I mean… It’s not like you’re any better than me.”
Rowan laughed under her breath. “Never said I was.” She nudged Alice’s shoulder with hers and began walking. “I suppose that's why we're best friends. Though my reading material is usually more informative… Anyway, I know we were supposed to go to the greenhouses to prepare for our next Herbology class, but —”
“You want to practise the spell Flitwick showed us in Charms today.”
“How—”
“That sparkle in your eyes during his demonstration. I knew instantly.”
“It would be so practical for our dormitory! To remove Badeea’s paint stains from the floor! Tulip’s dungbomb residue from wherever she hides them! Your tea and ink stains from—”
“Point taken” Alice’s smile tugged at her lips. “Your dorm-mates are a messy bunch.”
“Let’s just say it would be a very useful spell. So we’ll need to find an abandoned classroom that’s dirty enough to practise it.”
“Fair enough. Though can we still pop by the greenhouse? I need to pick up an ingredient I noticed Penny is running low on, and that might be crucial for a potion I need for my… extracurricular activity.”
“The Vaults. We’ve been friends since we were eleven, Alice. I know you’re talking about the vault expeditions.”
“Fine. I need some Wiggenweld and Penny is almost out of—”
“Dittany leaves?” Andre asked, as if he’d materialised out of thin air. He stepped up beside Alice, holding a small bag. He gave it a shake; the leaves inside rustled. “You’re not the only one keeping track of our favourite potion-maker’s ingredient stash. Or, in this case, watching you keep track. I managed to get the last ones before Sprout showed up.”
Alice reached for the bag. “Thanks, Andre! You’re a —”
Andre lifted it higher, just out of her reach. “Not so fast, Curse-Breaker. You need those leaves, and I need a fitting model for my latest creations. How about an arrangement that benefits us both?”
Alice’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “Fine,” she grumbled, snatching the bag from his hand.
Andre turned on his heel and walked away. “Good choice! I’ll see you tomorrow for the first session.” He waved back over his shoulder and disappeared down the corridor, humming under his breath.
Rowan watched him go, smirking. “Your friends know you too well.”
Alice stuffed the bag inside her satchel. “I think it’s starting to become a problem.”
And so they started their hunt for an abandoned room in need of some scourgifying.
“So now that you have the ingredient…” Rowan trailed off, opening a door to look inside.
“I just need to convince Penny to brew the Wiggenweld for me,” Alice replied, peering over Rowan’s shoulder before her friend closed the door again. “If she’s in one of those moods where she thinks my vault quest is brave, it should be easy. But—”
“—if she’s in one where she thinks you’re being reckless, you’ll need one hell of an argument,” Rowan said as they climbed another flight of stairs.
Alice’s smile turned devious. “Or one hell of an ingredient.”
Rowan stopped short. “Alice… Please don’t tell me you— Oh, Merlin, who am I kidding, of course you did!” Rowan shook her head. “What’s the ingredient?”
“Boomslang skin.”
“I have so many questions.”
“I would expect nothing less. And before you ask, I got it from one of Simon’s friends.”
“Simon has… interesting friends.”
Alice’s smirk widened. “So do we. Anyway, that friend is supposedly the go-to guy if you need anything rare or, you know, a bit shady.”
“Boomslang skin does fit both categories.” Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Hang on a moment… Boomslang skin is an ingredient for—”
“Polyjuice potion. And Penny—”
“— can’t resist a potion challenge. And Polyjuice—”
“—might come in handy eventually.”
“That’s very cunning of you. It’s in moments like this that I’m surprised there wasn’t a Hatstall between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”
“Well, considering one of the first things I told the Hat was how various characters from books I’d read would fit in the different Houses, I’m not surprised it picked Ravenclaw in less than five seconds.”
Rowan burst out laughing, and leaned briefly against a wall to catch her breath.
As they rounded the next corner, they noticed a rather unusual duo: Tulip Karasu and Ben Copper.
“That’s… unexpected,” Alice murmured.
“That’s not Ben. Look how he’s standing.”
Ben was indeed leaning against a wall, legs crossed at the ankles, animatedly chatting with Tulip.
“Way too confident and jovial,” Alice agreed. “Not an ounce of fear that the sky will fall on his head at any moment.” She squinted. “Tonks?”
“Definitely. Those two are clearly planning something, and I don’t want to be anywhere near it when it happens.” Rowan grabbed Alice’s arm and steered her towards the staircase to head to a different floor, intent on putting as much distance between them and the pranking duo as possible.
After a few minutes, the pair found what they were looking for: an empty classroom left to neglect. Dust filmed the windowsills. Dried, old mud left from some careless set of shoes spattered the stone floor. Perfect to practise Scourgify, which they did until their wrists hurt and their stomachs reminded them what time it was. They left the room so unnervingly pristine that when Filch stumbled upon it days later, he thought it was some sort of trap for an elaborate prank.
Later, much later, once most students had gone to bed, Simon slipped into the library using the Disillusionment Charm his great-grandfather had taught him. The lamps had dimmed to a soft glow, casting long shadows between tables. He moved soundlessly past the front desk, making his way towards his goal.
“Finite Incantatem,” he whispered, standing before the gates to the Restricted Section.
“Good evening, Selwood,” a voice said from the shadows behind him.
Simon spun around, wand raised, as Alice stepped out from behind a bookshelf, the moonlight catching her slightly amused expression. “Beaumont? What are you— How did you—”
“—know?” Alice finished lightly. “The books you were reading earlier. You didn’t hide the spines as well as you thought.” Her gaze slid toward the gates. “And let’s just say there are more books on those subjects in the Restricted section than in the regular stacks.”
Simon snorted, though there was something like admiration in it. “You’re good.”
“What can I say?” She shrugged, her voice softening. “I know my friends.” She let the silence hang, then added, mostly to herself, “Perhaps a bit too well.”
What Knick really enjoyed about spring was the longer days, and this evening he was enjoying some quality outdoor time away from the castle grounds. There were just too many people in and around the school, and while he tolerated it most of the time, he also found the need to escape into the nearby forest occasionally, simply to have some space.
Now, on this lush hillside, he swatted at the trail of dandelion fluff that Freyja had made for him. The golden sunlight played on the dancing seeds, as they swirled up and above his head. Beside him, just out the corner of his eye, Knick noticed Freyja had pulled out a half-finished letter and was now scribbling away. He felt a sense of excitement and anticipation coming from his companion, no doubt to do with the upcoming summer holidays. It wouldn’t be long now, just one more month. One more month, and a whole summer of adventures would be waiting for them.
What if I wrote a fic for the “in sync” theme showcasing how even people in a platonic relationship can be in sync through Alice and her friends (instead of “look how Alice and Simon are in sync *wink* *wink*” everyone expects) 🤔
