Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl. Chapter 37: Into November

DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling, Wizarding World, and Warner Brothers. I own neither property. I neither expect nor deserve any sort of financial remuneration for this work of fiction; I am writing for my own amusement.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl*Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl*Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl

On Friday, Daria awoke to a cold rain shower. It rained most of the day, which Daria thought was appropriate. She attended her classes, went to the library before dinner to do some research, but her mind wasn't in it. She was still in a dark mood when she returned to her dorm room, drew her bed-curtains, and retired early.

Daria sulked in her bed for Saturday morning. She briefly wished that things had gone different on Thursday, that Laura had decided to become a ghost instead of going on, then felt guilty for being selfish. She knew and liked a couple of the ghosts in the Castle, but no matter how old they were or how interesting they were to talk to, they all seemed to have a common problem: they were stuck. They seemed unwilling and unable to move on. That would be a hell of a thing to wish on Laura, she realized, then blinked away a couple of tears and opened her bed-curtain.

It had stopped raining over the night, and Daria could look out the window and see blue sky here and there through the cloud-cover. She decided that she was not in the mood to spend her day at the library. Instead, she'd do something else after breakfast. The other girls had already gotten up, eaten breakfast, and gotten on with their day, so Daria ate breakfast alone. After eating, she walked out one of the Castle's side entrances, then made her way to the animal pens. That, she thought, would be more appropriate.

When she arrived, she quickly discovered that she was not the only student there. Charlie Weasley was there, as was Ian MacCready and a Hufflepuff girl she didn't recognize. The Hufflepuff was older than she was but younger than Charlie.

"Hello, Daria!" said Charlie. "I didn't think you'd come by today. I'd have thought you'd have waited until tomorrow."

"Hi, Charlie," said Daria. "It seemed appropriate."

"You look distracted," said Charlie.

That's one way of putting it, she thought. "I got news from home," she said. "I learned that a friend died."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Charlie.

"She'd been sick for a while and it got worse," she said. "She stopped by Thursday morning to say goodbye."

Charlie's eyes widened. That was unusual; the girl must have been magical in some way.

"All the way from Texas?" asked Charlie.

"All the way from Texas," Daria replied.

"Was she a witch?" he asked. "Most Muggles can't…"

"Laura wasn't most Muggles," Daria interrupted. "She could and she did."

"Was she older or younger than you were?" he asked.

"Older," said Daria. "She was a cousin of my former best friend. We remained friends after Farrah and I fell out. I still looked up to her."

"What did she do?" asked Charlie.

"She was a rancher," said Daria. Her parents owned a ranch."

Ah, thought Charlie.

"What kinds of animals did they raise?" asked the Hufflepuff.

"Cattle, goats," Daria. "They did have some horses. Laura helped teach me to ride. She sat me on a pony named Goliath."

"Goliath?" said the Hufflepuff, and giggled.

Charlie and Ian looked blank. "What's so funny?" said Ian.

"Goliath was a giant from the Christian Old Testament," said the Hufflepuff. "A pony is smaller than a horse."

She turned to Daria. "I presume your friends also had horses."

"They did," said Daria.

"So did you become a great equestrienne?" asked the Hufflepuff.

"No," said Daria.

"Did you learn how to ride?" asked the Hufflepuff.

"Not well," Daria replied. "I felt kinda silly, but I learned to keep up."

"That's better than some do," said the Hufflepuff.

Daria then said hello to Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn and spent most of the rest of the day helping around the pens. It was hard, tiring work. At times, Daria could imagine Laura working beside her and wondered what she'd have to say about the magical menagerie. She worked longer and harder than she had when she'd visited the Penricks' ranch and by the time she was done, she had blisters and sore muscles. Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn thanked her for her help and Professor Kettleburn awarded her a couple of points despite her protestations.

When she returned to her dorm room that evening, she wasn't quite in the mood to play cards, but was content to kibbitz as the other girls played Exploding Snap. She remembered reading a novel where some girls played strip poker, except those girls were supposedly in college and she didn't know how to play.

-(((O-O)))—

Daria's grief lessened somewhat on Sunday and she was able to resume her routines. It rained again on Sunday morning and Daria chose to spend her day studying her textbooks, then working on a couple of essays Professors Flitwick and McGonagall had assigned them.

The school week resumed on Monday morning, and Daria managed to get to her classes and pay more attention. Laura's passing still saddened her, but the hurt was less. Monday evening rolled around and Daria realized that it was time to go to her detention with Professor Flitwick.

-(((O-O)))-

A Charms Classroom
(Daria's point of view)

I decided to leave dinner a little early. I stood up, excused myself, and set off for the charms classroom where I'd be serving my detention. By now I was familiar enough with Hogwarts Castle that I was able to find it with only a minimum of trouble. I'd also learned how to time myself walking between classes and I thought I'd be on time, but I checked my pocket watch to make sure and to my relief I discovered that I was a little early. I knocked softly on the door and waited for a response.

"Come in," said Professor Flitwick.

"Ah, Miss Morgendorffer," he said. "Please come in."

Professor Flitwick was in a good mood.

"I'm sorry if I made any trouble," I said. I wasn't sorry for being there when Laura rained on Willoughby's parade, but I didn't want to dump crap on Flitwick. I realized that I'd come to like and respect the guy.

"Actually, you're not really in trouble," he said,

So why am I here, I wondered.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here for detention."

"Good question, Sir," I said.

"Politics, dear," said Professor Flitwick. "Miss Willoughby is a Prefect. Prefects play a useful role here at the school. They help enforce discipline, set a good example, and the better ones help guide the younger students as well as their peers and provide a sympathetic ear to listen to them in times of trouble. We can't watch you children at all hours and we do need helpers to see and hear things that we faculty members miss."

He frowned. "Sometimes, though, even the best prefects make mistakes, either because of heated emotions or because they lack enough information to make better judgments."

"I have taught here for several decades," he said. "I do not like to undermine my prefects' authority without good cause. Not if they're generally doing a good job."

So are you taking sides, I thought but didn't say.

"I would like you to keep a confidence for me," he said. "I believe that Miss Willoughby was hasty in taking points and this detention gives me a chance to talk with you."

"You have ruffled Miss Willoughby's feathers," he said, "Or I should say, your friend Miss Penrick has."

I grinned.

"When did your friend die?" he said.

"A couple of days before Halloween. Cancer," I said.

"I expect that regardless of the facts and my sympathies, you've probably gained a place in Miss Willoughby's bad books," he said. "She may pay closer attention to your behavior to take points for infractions. I hope you bear up. I trust that she will not abuse her privileges and take extra points from you."

"It may be bothersome for the rest of this school year," he continued. "On the other hand, you need worry about Miss Willoughby only until the end of the Spring term. She's a Seventh-Year and is set to graduate in June. Someone else will take her place as a prefect next year."

"You may become a Prefect yourself someday," he said.

Me? Hah, I thought.

"I'm sure you brought some homework," he said. "Why don't you make good use of this time?"

"Thank you, Sir," I said.

We sat quietly in the classroom. Professor Flitwick busied himself taking notes while I caught up on my homework. After a while he spoke again.

"Miss Morgendorffer," he said.

"Sir?" I said.

"All of us have seen ghosts, but very few of us have seen the spirits of people leaving their bodies before they move on to the next world," he said. "Have you ever seen such spirits before?"

"Yes, Sir," I said. "Once I'm sure about, the other I'm not."

"Do you wish to share about the one you're sure about?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," I said. "That was Suzy Roe, another girl from Highland. She'd died in a car crash. She talked to me because her other relatives either couldn't see or hear her or were either too upset to talk to her. Also, my Mom has a reputation for giving ghosts short shrift."

"Your mother can see ghosts?" he said.

"Yes, Sir," I said.

"Interesting," he said.

-(((O-O)))—

When Daria awoke Tuesday morning, she realized that a week had probably passed since Laura's death. She thought about it and decided that it was now time to write condolence letters to the Penricks and to Farrah. Without telephones or e-mail, she'd probably only now be getting the news of Laura's death. It was time to start writing.

She decided to write the Penricks first.

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Penrick,

"I am so sorry to hear about Laura's death. Laura and I weren't close friends but her friendship meant a lot to me. Laura was someone I respected and looked up to as an example to follow. I have no idea as to how much pain and grief you're going through right now, but I wanted to let you know that I miss her, too. I cannot thank you enough for introducing me to her.

You're in my thoughts and prayers,

Sincerely,

Daria Morgendorffer.

She then set to work on writing a letter to Farrah. She might never get Farrah's friendship back, but she still cared about her.

"Dear Farrah…" she began. It was awkward, it was painful, and it was time-consuming, but when she was done she had two letters to send to Highland, Texas.

-(((O-O)))-

The weather turned colder in November. It didn't snow, at least not yet, but the temperature dropped enough that Daria felt the cold seep into the castle walls and into the corridors. To Daria's surprise, a lot of Hogwarts students' spirits perked up in spite of the colder weather. Daria soon learned why: Quidditch season had formally started, and the first game was set for the second Saturday in November, a match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

None of the first-year Ravenclaws would likely be playing that game. Daria had heard that Cho Chang had tried out and made the reserves, as had one of the guys. Daria decided that she ought to go see it even if she wasn't a Quidditch virgin.

"Have you ever seen a Quidditch match before, Daria?" asked Violet Banks a couple of days before the event.

"As a matter of fact I have," Daria.

"Was this a student game or are there professional teams out your way?" asked Violet, her curiosity aroused..

"Strictly amateur," said Daria. "Some of the wizards and witches in a couple of west Texas small towns and rural counties play each other or occasionally other amateur teams from northern Mexico or from Cibola."

"What is it like?" asked Violet.

"Very informal, at least the ones I went to," said Daria. "They hold games out in the boondocks and most of the players don't bother with the fancy gear Isaw in the illustration. The spectators not only fly or apparate in, but some live close enough to drive in."

"Drive?" said Violet, "as in Muggle automobiles."

"In automobiles," said Daria. "It makes it easier to hold tailgate parties before and afterwards."

"Tailgate?" said Violet.

"Many American cars and pickup trucks have rear gates that lower flat," said Daria. "People set their serving dishes and drink coolers on them."

Violet looked even more confused and decided to change the subject

"Are the rules any different for Quidditch in your part of the world?" she asked

"We have a sundowner rule," said Daria. The arcana of Quidditch hadn't interest her that much, but she was glad she learned them now. Games start around an hour and a half until Sundown and we play until one of the Seekers catches the Snitch or it gets too dark."

"How strange," said Violet. "I can't imagine people standing for that around here."

Daria shrugged. "Some folks have day jobs in the Muggle world, and some of the roads get a little tricky after you leave the pavement," she said.

"Well, if you don't stay in your dorm room and pout, you can see how we play Quidditch," said Violet.

Oh-kay, thought Daria. I suppose that seeing British Quidditch matches is part of my education so I might as well go.

On Saturday, Daria followed the crowd of Hogwarts students out to the Quidditch pitch. Seeing so many Slytherins and Ravenclaws trooping out to the stands didn't surprise her; it was their house teams after all. But equal numbers of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors also were making their way to the field. These people are absolutely nuts about Quidditch, she thought. It's like football back home, and in west Texas football stood next to God and the American flag.

When Daria arrived at the pitch, she was immediately stuck by how formal Hogwarts Quidditch was. The stands were built high in the air over the field and their sides were decorated with banners. The teams not only wore house colors, but also wizarding robes in their house colors. She looked through a borrowed pair of binoculars and was surprised to see that not only the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall showed up, but so did the school staff as well as some wizarding big-shots she didn't recognize, except for one lady she thought might be Millicent Bagnold, the British Minister for Magic.

The teams formed up much like international football players did on the ground, and Madam Hooch addressed the teams saying that she expected a good clean game and no rough handling. The Quaffle went up and the game was on.

Daria thought she'd see fair play: she soon realized that this game was turning into a curb-stomp. The Slytherin chasers handled the Ravenclaw chasers roughly, occasionally fouling them and taking possession of the Quaffle, which they then flew over to the Ravenclaw goal hoops, slinging Quaffle after Quaffle through them. It was absolutely painful to watch. So painful, in fact, that she found herself groaning when the Slytherin team scored another goal.

After Slytherin scored a seven-goal lead over Ravenclaw, Daria turned her head away from the slaughter, wishing she'd packed a book or something. She looked across the pitch and saw that the Slytherin fans were cheering and happy. There is no joy in Mudville, Daria thought bitterly.

She was distracted by Anahita, who was holding the arm of a man about her Dad's age wearing a Slytherin scarf. "Daria," she said, "I'd like you to meet my Da."

"Dah, this is Daria Morgendorffer, the American girl I told you about."

Mr. Waring looked very much out of place in Slytherin green and silver, but Daria gave him credit for nerve.

"Miss Morgendorffer," he said. "I'm Mordred Waring. A pleasure to meet you."

"Daria Morgendorffer," Daria replied. "Muggleborn from Highland, Texas."

"You say you're Muggle-born?" said Mordred. "That's surprising. Seeing you for the first time I would guess that you were at least a Half-Blood."

"Muggleborn," said Daria. "Neither Jake or Helen have anything to do with fancy sticks."

Mr. Waring smiled. "Is this your first Quidditch match?" he asked.

"I saw an informal one out my way before I left to come here," said Daria.

"I've never heard of any Texas teams," replied Mr. Waring.

"The Highland Hoop-Snakes have a limited fan-base," said Daria.

Mr. Waring chuckled. "I like your dry sense of humor," he said. "We may make a proper British witch out of you yet."

Daria liked Anahita and so she held her tongue.

The aerial slaughter continued. A Ravenclaw boy let Daria borrow his binoculars for a moment and she used them to glance across the field at the Slytherin stands. Was Professor Snake actually grinning? He certainly looked pleased.

The Slytherins scored again, and Daria joined the Ravenclaw groan.

Mr. Waring looked around and noticed that he was collecting some glares. He excused himself, saying "I love you, Anahita, but I do want to do a little cheering for my own house," he said fondly.

The match mercifully ended when the Slytherin Seeker found the snitch about an hour and a half after game time.

-(((O-O))—

The weather continued to grow colder and Daria wondered if it was snow. It didn't, but if it didn't snow, the weather gods made up for it with cold rain showers. Sometimes the rain just came down from the sky (Howbeit harder than it had back in Highland), but at other times it came down in wet, windy waves that made either made her scamper if she had to cross between buildings or grateful that she was indoors.

It finally snowed late in the third week of November. Daria and some of the students from the southern parts or Britain dashed outdoors to marvel at the snowflakes. It seldom snowed in Highland, snowfalls limiting themselves to a few brief showers that more often than not melted away a day or two later. The first storm's snowfall didn't stick, but Daria was reassured that there'd be real snow later on.

A day or two later, Daria was stopped by Professor McGonagall after Transfiguration class.

"Miss Morgendorffer," she said. "Have you given any thought as to where you'll be spending your Christmas holidays?"