Author's note: 'Twas a busy week for me but finally here we have the third chapter. Hooray! Can't say much cause in an honesty, I just squeezed this in along with a lot of other stuff to do. But I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter three: The Tearoom

"What is it that you remember?" Albus piqued. The cup of tea was slowly cooling, forgotten as he rested his elbows on the table, fingers interlaced before his chin.

A questioning look settled on her face.

"Of course, I have heard some details." He added. "But I do have to say that I hold a certain amount of interest in it. If you do not mind too much, do you mind if I ask a few questions regarding it?"

The girl set her drink down on the table.

"Do not fear any judgement coming from me, I will not look at you in negative light for you memories." He assured her.

A feeling waved through her. With it, a memory—barely a flash, gone too quickly too identify; tucked away. But the emotion remained: wariness.

"Sir," she started, "if you don't mind me asking; why did you come here to meet me?"

Albus hummed. He can feel the strands of his beard barely tickle his fingers as he spoke. "For an evaluation of sorts."

"For what though?" she waved her hand. "I don't really see a need for the interview."

"What did Miss Grace say about my arrival?"

Ruby shrugged. "Not much. It was early in the morning. I just woke up— I nearly jumped on Agatha because she had been leaning right over my bed and into my face."

Wrapping her hands around the tea cup again, she continued. "She told me that there will be a man coming— that he was taking me away."

"To an asylum?"

"To a new home." A small smile shown on her lips as she swirled the tea. "So there starts the adoption theory."

She looked up at him once again. "So, yeah. Why are you here for?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you immediately." He answered in an apologetic tone. "Not until I—"

"Have looked into my memories and stuff?" Ruby finished for him.

Without even having given an answer, just like that, the barest of memories lying on the surface was pushed back, filed and hidden. Almost as if she knew that he had been browsing through them.

That won't do— that won't do at all.

Albus looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry, Miss Rose. It is unfair for me to ask of you those things while withholding information on my part."

He has a better chance of summoning the memories upwards if she trusts him. And she proves to be safe enough, it will be better for both parties not to have any sense of animosity or insecurity between them.

There was something that passed through her again, another fleeting feeling and an image that stayed long enough for him to ponder for a second about the identity of the grey-haired man within the picture.

And yet, Ruby Rose remains guarded.

It was almost saddening, how untrusting she was.

Then a half-sort-of-resignation draped on her like blanket weighing on her shoulders.

"I don't remember." She was looking into the leaves in her tea. "I don't remember the last few months before I ended up here."

He arched a brow. "There is no memories implanted for these previous months."

The girl flinched—albeit, inwardly. Outside she remained impassive, gave a small head shake.

"Last thing I remembered is that I was with some friends."

There was another girl. Tufts of vibrant orange hair hung down from her head and ended in a curl, almost doll-like. Ruby leaned against her shoulder and another girl—with alarmingly pale complexion and even whiter hair— sat not too far away. There was a spread metal behind them, a wall. It was cold, very cold.

"Then nothing." She said quietly.

True enough, the memory faded and in its place— well, he couldn't quite say it was nothing, what he had found. There was something but there was nothing defined; a blur of sorts, muffled words here are there. It was almost like an image from a glass ball.

Fear. There was fear somewhere in there, gripping, cold fear—

"Anyways, next thing I that I know, I was in a forest, a man was helping me up. He was super worried and brought me here."

"Mister Lovegood was rather concerned, wasn't he?" Albus hummed. "Though I do not blame him."

He saw the man's face, his floss-like strands of white hair as he looked down at her, worry clearly etched in his face as he hastily draped his thick yellow coat on her.

Ruby's face looked about the same as her rosy pink pajamas.

"Ye-yeah. But nothing like that happened." She said quickly. "The Healer's checked, so I wasn't uh…"

"Oh my dear, are you alright?" Lovegood ran the tip of his wand over her body. "Do you hurt anywhere? Who did this to you?"

"What?" came Ruby's voice, croaking.

"Don't worry, child." He reached towards her but settled his hands back to his lap. "You're alright now. You're alright…"

She cleared her throat tucked the memory of being found completely bare in the woods away, but the embarrassment still lingered like a rather persistent hex.

"But yeah, I was fine." Ruby assured. "I was just a little cold."

Opting to smile kindly instead of letting the chuckle that building bubble out his throat, he leaned back on his chair and plucked the teacup up to his lips.

"Who were these friends of yours that you were with?"

Fondness. Fear. Happiness. Sadness. Comfort. Familiarity. Longing. Then they were gone.

Ruby shrugged. "You know, friends."

"I see." He hummed. "Are you particularly close with any of them?"

"I care a lot about all of them. We've been through a lot together and—" The way she said it was almost shaky. "But I guess I am rather close to few of them more than the rest."

A woman with a beautiful array of voluminous gold-blond curls and heated lilac eyes stared back at him, a confident smile gracing her lips. Then a returns the girl with the silky white hair—looking like winter if the season existed as a person. After that follows a black-haired woman white amber eyes that almost cat-like. Funnily, the bow of the ribbon above her head seems like furry black ears.

They were? He thought in surprise.

Ah, no. It was a ribbon on top of her head, as Ruby seems to recall. Seems like the girl had mused herself that her friend was cat-like as well. She was quite silly now, wasn't she?

There was a sort of joy as they flashed, followed quickly and heavily by longing— like powerful waves smashing against the paved stone walls.

Yet still, she showed none of it. And soon, like she had this entire conversation, she calmed the waters, vanished the memory and the feelings with it this time.

But as suddenly as the feeling disappeared they were back on the surface again, with a curious sense of hope:

"Do you think—"Her voice was steady, interested, like a child asking a parent about something they can't quite grasp, though he can feels waves of desperation radiating off of her, as if he would be revealing her very fate with his answer. "Do you think that they are out there?"

"That they are," A small jab shot through her as she continued. "That they are real somehow, somewhere."

A split-second pause passed, feeling like an eternity as Albus hummed thoughtfully.

"I cannot say for certain." he answered sadly. "And I do not wish to give you false hope."

Ruby sat quietly, looking into her cup, like a Seer seeking knowledge from the future.

"But there is a chance, though not certain." He explained. "Most of the time, fake memories implanted have a strong basis on the original lives of the person, they do not stray too far from the norm, lest the person becomes suspicious."

A snort came up and she didn't bother to cover up as she mixed the now-cold tea. "Strong basis. I guess whoever did this was trying to be funny, huh?"

Truly enough. Albus agrees. In his years of life, modified memories are often not easy to catch. They were disguised as regular ones, insignificant, nothing that was too out-of-character for the person to have experienced. Too ordinary, sometimes. And he never encountered anybody who had all of their memories removed and had a whole set replace them

But Ruby Rose's case— her case was different. It was almost as if the culprit wants the whole world to know that the girl had known something but not anymore. It is now hidden deep within the confines of her mind, under the illusion of a forged scene. Or perhaps she had clashed with someone.Most unfortunately for her, this someone had gotten rather physical or mental, for that matter.

Less funny was the fact that Ruby seems to believe them, Albus realized. Those memories in her head. They truly were peculiar, if what he heard was anything to go by.

"Perhaps." He agreed. "Can you recall any reason at all or suspicion as to why someone had done so to you?"

Shaking her head, she replied "No. I can't remember anything other than the…implanted stuff."

Albus set his elbows on the tables once more, head resting on weaved fingers.

"Do you believe them?" he asked in a light tone. "The memories."

Yes, he heard from her.

"Well," Ruby tugged at the hem of her sleeves. "everything I thought I knew all life had just suddenly been disproved— na-da, not real anymore."

There was a thick layer of sadness over her along with a grip of fear, and a slightest touch of relief?

"I mean, I don't even know who I am," she laughed an airy sound, "These memories may be fake, but they are all I have."

"Tell me about her." Albus said casually. "This invented person of yours."

"That is what you came here for, isn't it?" Muttering, she finished the last of her drink and set it down. Images and memories rose back up, like a gallery to select from— though there are some pictures that were missing. "What did you want to know?"

"Well," With a flick of his finger, the white ceramic teapot between rose in the air and started refilling their cups. "Well, for one, who is she exactly? Where was she born? What does she like to do?"

"Ruby Rose." She answered. "Her name is Ruby Rose. She hails from Patch, an island just off the coast of Vale. Vale is a kingdom, by the way. One of the four kingdoms of Remnant."

With just four short sentences, he found he had a lot more questions, even the memories that he can see is leaving him pondering without the satisfaction of the explanation.

"Kingdoms?" he queried.

An image of a desolate street came into her mind, shops were lined along the sides—the lights within are diming as the workers close up for the night. High above, the moon hung in place; it was too large to be the real moon, hanging whole and white in the sky.

"Kingdoms." She shrugged. Tiana flashed in her mind. She had an incredulous look on her face. "Y'know, like big cities."

"And there are only four of them?" he asked. "I am assuming this Remnant is a whole world?"

The girl nodded. "They're used to be small communities, settled into a good spot. Eventually they grew big enough, now they're a kingdom."

"And there are only four of these?" Albus raised his brow.

"Well, big ones anyways. There are a few villages and smaller cities scattered around. It's just the kingdoms that are notable since they are kind of like the capital managing all the other places."

"So each is like a nation?"

The girl shrugged. "I guess?"

"What qualified as a good spot for them to settle on?"

"Places with natural protection, like mountains or shallow waters, extreme cold, extreme warmth. Stuff like that."

He straightened his back. "Protection from predators?"

An image showed up, on that may stay with him for a while.

The girl looked to one side.

"Well…"

"So?"

Albus hummed. He settled himself down a creaky plush blue chair before a splintering wooden desk.

"How did it go?" Tiana made her way across the office, a steaming mug in her hand. She sat herself on top of the desk, looking him over. "Is she liable?"

Albus crossed one leg over the other, "Well, her memories are most certainly interesting to look over."

Tiana scoffed, the barest of a smirk grazing her lips. "Strange, aren't they? What do you reckon of it?"

"Well, I can most certainly assure you, in all my years of life I have never encountered wizards using dust to power muggle-like items."

"What of the shattered moon and the creatures of destruction that run rampant?"

"As far as I remember, the only shattered moon I've seen is when one of our professors dropped another professor's—divination one— favourite moon plate." Albus said. "As for the creatures of destruction, I find that we encounter and are very much one of them."

Tiana waved her free hand dismissively, "Humans."

She took a sip and looked down over to him, "Did you notice that the some people in there are based off of people from fairytales?"

He quirked a brow, "Indeed?"

Tiana adjusted herself to face him.

"We didn't realize it at first—wait actually—" she paused, "—we didn't realize it at all until Ruby pointed out to us that some characters from the book— the Brother's Grimm, there's a copy in a common area— remind her of some people."

She continued. "Weiss Schnee, Snow White. A scarecrow, a tinman, a goodwitch, for Merlin's sake. And the school was run by the wizard named Ozpin: Oz. There is also Joan of Arc."

Tilting the mug to her lips, Tiana took a sip. "In a way, it almost looks like an elaborate prank."

"Well," Albus said, thoughtfully, "the caster is most definitely a skilled user of the charms."

Tiana set the mug down next to her on the desk, frowning "You couldn't find anything?"

Albus' expression matched hers, "Unfortunately."

Her brows furrowed, "Nothing? No previous memories, a clue or anything?"

"No. Not a thing." Expression serious, he explained: "Her memories— as ridiculuous as they are— are, by far, the most well-crafted ones I had encountered. I cannot emphasize it enough.It's as if those are her true memories."

A silence fell over the empty office, disrupted only by a rather loud tick. The large grandfather cloth displayed at the corner stood stagnant, with an arrow with the name Jared Pomfrey clicked into place, pointing at a spot labelled "Reception Area".

"There had still been no claims to her." She laid her hands on either sides, "Ministry looked into their files, missing people and the whatnot. They had finished going through records: witches, wizards, muggleborns—though to be honest, she does not look like a muggleborn— nothing came up. The reply had come from America as well. Blank."

"Well, you know the story" She picked her mug up once more, "unidentified, confounded but magical and ordinary enough. She is confused but other than that there is no real reason for her to be confined here. What do you reckon?"

Albus mused. "I do not think she is dangerous. Though there are some rather worrying details I have encountered."

"Which one?"

"I presume you know of the so-called Creatures of Grimm?"

"Of course."

"And I presume you know of the Hunstmen and Huntresses."

Tiana scolwed. "None of those are real. Albus, I haven't seen her memories as you have—Merlin knows I am no Legilimens—but I know for a fact that she is a good person."

The now-half-empty mug rested on her lap, "She may only have fake memories of who she is but no matter how good they are made, they can never change who a person truly is. Goodness, if it were that simple then we wouldn't have so much problems in the world."

Swinging her finger at the ceiling she muttered, "Swish, flick! I dub you a good person."

Lowering her glance back to him, she said, "But she is a good person. I know it, Albus."

Not a beat passed before he responded.

"I think so as well. " Albus replied, "Often I find that one does not need to leaf through their memories— who they are, as they are is often enough to tell, no matter how kindly or dastardly they are being at the time."

"Then what is the issue then?"

He paused. "I am merely concerned if she has actual skill in the area of fighting. If she does, it might be telling to who she had been in the past."

"You don't reckon tha—" Tiana blinked. "You are afraid that people may go after her?"

"I believe it is best to exercise caution." Albus elaborated. "Having one's memories completely wiped and replaced by entirely fake one's that leaves her lost is one factor that may be telling. However having the skill to act defensively and offensively is another factor."

"I do not believe she is a bad person." Oddly, he can feel the spot where the lemon sherbet used to be, even though his pocket completely flat but entirely large on the inside. "But some people with not-so-kind intentions may come after her, if she was involved in their business.

"So you're saying that we should keep a close eye on her?"

"I am saying that I will be keeping a close watch on her."

There had been a sort of tension that had built up these past few seconds, one that he did not realize had piled until it dissipated as Tiana's shoulders dropped.

"Then that means that she will be..."

"I reckon from what I have gathered: there is no reason for her not to attend Hogwarts and learn to rejoin society."

One did not need to be a Legilimens to know that relief washed over Tiana— that wasn't hard to deduce on his part seeing as her Occulumency is as impenetrable as ever.

"She is allowed to go to Hogwarts." She said more to herself than to him. A rare and genuine smile graced her lips.

Though he had not asked for an explanation, she did anyways. "I apologize, I am just ecstatic that the she can go."

Tiana looked at the shut office door, just beyond was the hallway leading to the ward again. "It's not right for her to be here. She's too young to be stuck, confined in here. She should be outside making friends, lounging under the sun and enjoying her life ahead of her. I mean, granted, the world outside is a tad of a mess as of late, it's still better for her."

"We will take care of her at Hogwarts."

"I know you would, it took well-enough care of me all those years ago. Sometimes I wish I could return to merely worrying about homework and grades."

"Perhaps she will worry about homework too." He said with mirth.

"Oh" she said in a warning tone, "that little rascal better worry about her grades. If she somehow throws away her opportunity to get a decent job, I will permanently confine her here for being not right in the thinker."

Albus chuckled, "Fret not, Tiana, I will provide her with ample enough guidance, but if she proves to have a penchant for mischief and disregard for grades, then there is little I can do."

"Don't keep too close an eye on her though, kid needs to make friends not have them usher away because good old professor Dumbledore is constantly hovering over her shoulder." She fell quiet for a second. "Dear Peeves, I hope doesn't have a hard time making friends. She has a bit of a struggle with new people, you see— oh, you probably have seen."

"That I did." He mused. "Though, it is a tad strange how well she can hide her memories if she chose."

Tiana quirked a brow, "She hid her memories?"

"Well, she said it is because she does not want me to think that she is 'completely insane'" he quoted. "Quite perceptive too— she told me that she can't help but feel like I am reading her mind."

"She what?" Tiana almost looked proud. "What did you tell her?"

"She just said in a small tangent while talking about her school life, it was more of a short comment on her part and she did not ask."

"You did not tell her then?"

"I did not have the opportunity to." he said, "And I think it might create a bit of a challenge to view her mind if she is wary."

"Well, have you told her that she will be attending Hogwarts?" she asked.

Albus smiled, "Not yet, either. I'm afraid I have to report back to the headmaster beforehand."

Tiana nodded, "I'll have to handle her files to be submitted to the ministry then."

"Will you be telling her?"

"No, she has to wait for the letter like all of us. There is a thrill to it, especially if you do not know what is inside— I have to tell Agatha not to blubber if she divines anything."

"Ah, has Miss Grace been doing well?" Albus remembered.

Waving her hand dismissively before picking up her coffee, she answered, "She has been doing as she had always been. Though she has been a lot happier and enthusiastic, not to mention more bloody mischievous, since Ruby had arrived."

"Are they are a troublesome bunch to watch?"

"That's the thing, they are sometimes hard to keep track of. One moment they're here and the next they're off doing who knows what."

"Aren't they not allowed to leave the ward?"

"They aren't. Though we have found Ruby wandering around if she got bored enough. Needless to say, if for some reason one of them have been in clear sight for too long then the other is probably doing something behind our backs. Trust us, we have learned the hard way."

Her head shot up to him, "You didn't give her scissors, did you?"

A mischievous grin made its way to his face, "I don't recall giving her scissors, no."

"But I do believe I taught her a little charm."

Magic.

Performing feats accomplish by dust without it, feats done with Semblances without Aura, versatile and seemingly limitless.

Magic, a thing of the old world: the World of the Gods. A thing that can only be wielded only be six individuals at a time, remnants of a forgotten past.

Ruby already had acquainted herself to five of them, hadn't she? Though that count is pretty much void now.

The number of Healers milling about in their lime green robes using their gifts to heal people certainly add up to more than six. The number of patients sitting in the reception and on the beds certainly add up to more than six. The number people outside using magic casually and freely certainly add up to more than six.

And Ruby placed along with the count certainly add to more than six.

She couldn't believe it at first. It was absolutely mental. But then she beckoned her hand and a book came flying out of the shelf and into her palm.

Accio, the Healer had said one time, summoning a clipboard.

Accio, Ruby had tested, reaching out to the copy of Brother's Grimm.

And so it began.

Reparo, Tiana had said to the broken inkbottle.

Reparo, Ruby told the broken leg of her bed.

Episkey, Jared said pointing a stick that he called a 'wand' to the small cut on Agatha's hand that she got from trying to pick up a piece of the broken bottle.

Episkey, Ruby muttered to the small bruise the newspaper boy got when Ruby had startled him during one of the times that she snuck out of the ward. He had stumbled and hit one of those old chairs. The bruise healed right up.

She can remember the perplexed look on the kids face, asking her how she can do magic without a wand. She remembers Agatha's explanation:

"You don't need a wand to do magic." She commented, lying flat on her back on the rug of the common area. "People in Africa didn't need to, it's more of a Western practice. Wands make it more accurate and directed. Though it is quite hard to master doing magic without it if you have been doing it all your life."

But Ruby hasn't been doing it all her life.

She had only been doing it for a few weeks.

Or so she remembers.

And today she learned a new charm.

Pulling the thick green curtains around her bed closed, she was covered in in darkness. Ruby felt towards her pillow, propped it up against the metal bars of the headboard before leaning back to it.

She shut her eyes.

Somewhere out there, though they may not be exactly as she can recall, her friends may alive and real. They exist.

But then again, almost nothing else in her memories do, so why should she pin her hope on this one?

Hope.

She had always held on to it, didn't she?

She held on when she was a child that could barely pull the trigger of a pistol.

She held on to it when she spent night after night training.

She held on to it when Beacon was attacked, when she ran for Penny, when she ran for Pyrrha.

The reason she left home, the reason she travelled across Anima, to Mistral, to Haven— the reason they kept on their path to Argus, then soon to Atlas was because they kept their hope. That somehow, someway, they will be able to defeat Salem or at least stop more people from falling victim to her.

But what about now?

She's holding on to the hope that her friends were real out there. She held on to the hope that the world she remembers exists.

It's funny, how much that contradicts what she said she wishes; sitting here longing for that world of chaos. She wants to go back as soon as possible to help, to save people, to do what she can. Ruby wants for it to be real, and she wants to go back.

But wasn't it better if it turns out none of it was real though?

A jab shot though her.

It would mean that those people, Jaune, Nora, Ren, Blake, Weiss, Yang, Marrow, Harriet— none of them had existed. But that also meant none of them have suffered, right? All those people lost at Beacon, people from the villages that have perished, all the pointless death and pain would have never have happened.

Isn't that a wonderful thing? That they aren't fighting against a being that can never be killed, in a fight that may never end.

Isn't that what life is about though? Another part of her reasoned.

Suffering, sadness along with joy and happiness. Was it better to have lived a life that may be sprinkled with hardships and some pleasure rather than never lived at all? Isn't that why humans thrive? Keep on living not just for the sake of living but because they have something to look forward to, fearing death as the end of those things.

Would it be better if Remnant had existed?

Ruby doesn't know, but what she does know is what she wants, though she is aware that her reason to is selfish. She means, who wouldn't want the world they have known all their life to be real? No matter how horrible the place was sounding.

She wonders if there was a semblance of a chance that it was real.

Ruby opened her eyes. There was a faint green glow about the little dark confined space. Her eyes had adjusted well enough that she can see the box of tissue papers that she had tossed in. It sat right by her feet. Using her heel, she pulled it slowly to her side.

Today, she had learned a new a charm.

The empty clear wrapper of the lemon sherbet fell out of her pajama pockets as she pulled a small scrap of orange crafting paper out. There were a few slices on it, as if someone had run a blade on top.

Holding it up with one hand, she placed the tip of her finger on the upper corner of the sheet.

"Snip this." She whispered.

She can feel it: a buzzing of sorts or a hum, but not really. It was a feeling on itself, right at the tip of her pointing finger. It dragged along as she pulled her index to the edge of the paper, behind it a split trailed— as if she was slicing it with a cutter.

The corner fell free, spinning in the air before landing on her lap.

She set the paper down to her side and pulled the tissues closer to her.

Ruby pulled the pale pink sleeves of pajama up and surveyed her arm. It was soft though her muscles were toned, she thought as she ran her fingers through them thoughtfully. They were exactly as they were in her memories. Years of combat had shaped them, according to what she can remember. She wonders if that is still true in this world—that she had trained for battle.

Her arm tiled sideways as her finger stopped over the top.

She ponders if any bit of what she knows are her experiences are true.

"Snip this." She said quietly.

A sharp jolt of pain shot through her arm. It stung as she dragged finger across. There was a sticky feeling as blood started to flow down.

She retracted her finger, the humming feeling vanished.

She stared at her arm, at the stream of blood travelling down. Ruby pulled a piece of tissue paper out and caught the mess, but her focus did not leave the cut. It wasn't deep, perhaps a bit less than quarter of an inch, and about the length of a toothpick across—

She pulled on it then, as she always had. It felt natural, second nature to use it.

A faint red glow that travelled in ripples covered her arm.

As if a seamstress was working with an invisible thread, her arm was stitching itself back together; needle through and pull. As quickly as she had gotten the cut, it closed.

Ruby wiped her arm down with tissue, before raising it before her eyes.

What was it again?

"Lumos."

A small beam of light erupted from her finger that she directed to where the slide had been.

There was nothing. Not a trace of a wound on her arm.

She looked back at the tissue paper to see if it had even happened—the soiled red color gave her her answer.

Someone was coming, she felt it. There was a warning feeling that alerted her. She doesn't know what it is but her "common sense" answers 'Aura'.

She crumpled the tissue and stuffed it back into the box, hoping that she will remember to flush it down the toilet tomorrow. The pillow was fluffy enough when she threw herself back while hastily pulling the previously forgotten scrap of orange paper to herself again.

"Ruby?" came Tiana's voice from the other side of the curtain.

"Yeah?" she replied, lightly.

"Are you alright in there?"

"Um, yes."

"May I open the curtains?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure!"

The curtains slid open with a swish. Ruby squinted when bright light let itself inside, coming from that floating mini-sun they have in the middle of the room.

"Did you need anything?" Ruby asked.

"No, no, I just wanted to know if your little conversation went well."

"Oh." Ruby started. "It went well, I guess. He was super nice."

Feels a bit secretive though.

"I see, glad to hear." Tiana replied. "I just wanted to see if you were alright."

Her arm suddenly felt very cold with the sleeve pulled up. She placed both hands to her sides, hiding the free arm, and leaned back.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I hear he taught you a new charm?"

Ruby nodded, raising the small scrap of orange paper. "Snippy."

"Oh, good for your story-telling then."

"Yeah." Ruby agreed before hastily adding. "We don't have to be stuck with just origami anymore! Do we have glue?"

Tiana tapped her hand on her chin. "Oh, I am not sure. But I think we have a charm for that."

"Really?"

"Oh, I don't know, you can find out for yourself."

Ruby stuck her tongue out.

"Well, I am glad you enjoyed it."

Ruby smiled.

"I guess I should leave you to rest now, it's not every day you have to talk to a new face. Especially interviews, Merlin, those are tiring."

"Yeah," she agreed. "He was easy to talk to though."

"A little too easy sometimes, honestly." Tiana sighed.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not necessarily."

Tiana took a step back from her bed. "But do get some rest. I reckon you're going to have quite the crafting session later, won't you?"

"Yep!" Ruby said a little too joyfully.

"Well, then." Her hands rested on the curtains. "Don't forget: nox!"

Swish and the curtains fells closed and Ruby was back a bit of darkness— except for the bit on the curtains that a beam of light was striking.

The stream was then directed to the ceiling as she pointed her finger up.

"Nox."

Everything faded to black.

Author's note: Dun, dun dun! Guess our Ruby is going to Hogwarts! (maybe). They grow up so fast. One moment they're being granted official huntsman IDs, next they're being ordered to be arrested, and before you know it they're going to school! So fast.

Also, I have read your reviews and comments (just now, actually. These are busy times). And I really appreciate them. I am grateful for constructive critisism, it gives me stuff to keep in mind and gives me a good view outside of what I can see. I would go more in depth response, but I just read it now so maybe next chapter! I hope with them, I'll learn more and be able to make a good and enjoyable story to read.

Thanks as always!

Sincerely,

PTH

Coming up! Chapter 4: A Hooter and a Letter