Disclaimer: World of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. For Season 2 of the Quidditch League Competition.

Round 10
Team: Falmouth Falcons
Position: Chaser 2

Prompts: (word) ghost; (quote) "Stories of imagination tend to upset those without one." Terry Pratchett ;(word) chemistry.

xXx

Underage Magic

xXx

The first time Tracey Davis saw Doria Grey, she was nine years old and she thought she was staring at a ghost. A beautiful one.

She'd never before seen a woman with such white-blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. And the style of her clothing, looked like the kind of things you'd see on a woman during the second world war.

Tracey hadn't been able to keep from staring at the woman who approached her; being raised by nuns as she was, she'd never seen anyone so glamorous.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Doria had asked after introducing herself, leaning against Sister Mary Agatha's desk.

Tracey, who was seated on the desk directly before Doria, didn't immediately reply. She crossed her arms over her chest, and directed her green gaze out the window and stared resentfully out of it.

"I don't know," she replied in her lilting Irish, wincing at the pain in her hand when she tucked it under her elbow. Today, Sister Mary Agatha had hit her with a ruler on the back of the hand on three separate occasions, for nothing at all! "Sister Mary Agatha says I'm a spawn of Satan and that's why no one wants me, because I do bad things! Because I make up stories and weird things always happen around me! And because I hurt people! But it isn't my fault! I don't know what's wrong with me, and I don't know how to stop! Maybe if people weren't so rotten, they wouldn't get hurt in turn! Maybe they're getting what they deserve!"

"Is that what happened with Sister Mary Agatha? She was getting what she deserved?"

There was no judgement in her tone, but Tracey felt her cheeks flush as she looked away in shame. She wasn't sure why these things always seemed happened around her. And Tracey didn't know why she felt so responsible for them, why it felt so much like they were happening because of her.

But she'd never before hurt a nun.

The sisters were always strict, and yes sometimes on extreme occasions one of them would hit you in the hands with a ruler... but Sister Mary Agatha was worse. Tracey hated Sister Mary Agatha. The nun who'd recently been transferred in seemed pure evil, and completely set against Tracey from the first moment she set eyes on Tracey's auburn head.

"She was going to take a cane to me, just because I was telling little Bailey O'Hara a story, it wasn't fair! Just because it was a story with magic, doesn't mean it's evil," Tracey replied, even as tears filled her eyes at the injustice that she had to speak with this... official case worker or whatever she was. "I don't know how she got thrown out the window, but how could it be my fault? I didn't touch her!"

"It isn't fair, for you to be caned for telling a story, or for any reason for that matter," Doria said and it took a minute for Tracey to realize what the woman had said. What she'd meant. Looking up with startled green eyes, she stared at the woman before her. "Stories of imagination tend to upset those without one."

Tracey blinked, her heart beating wildly to see that for once, she wasn't being reprimanded, or stared at like she was a freak. And she'd hoped that for once, someone might believe her.

"But you can't keep letting yourself get so upset, you hurt people Tracey. This is the third time someone has needed medical attention because you've attacked them," Doria said with a sigh, her blue eyes drilling through Tracey who felt panic set in.

"But I... I'm not-"

"You broke your first foster brother's wrist when you were four-"

"He was nine and pulling on my hair really hard!" Tracey yelled, jumping to her feet even as her heart thundered in fear. "I don't know how that happened! I just wanted him to stop and then he was crying, holding his arm!"

"When you were six, you threw a twelve year old girl over a banister-"

"She was hitting me and kicking me for no reason! She just suddenly, flew back! I didn't-"

"Just last year-"

"I didn't do any of these things, they just happened!" Tracey yelled, her face red with emotion and suddenly the windows in the classroom cracked.

"This is what I mean, Tracey. You must learn to control your emotions and your magic."

Tracey, who'd been on the verge of shouting in frustration that it was her fault, felt her mouth remain open. For a moment, her mouth opened and shut, trying to understand what the woman before her had said.

"Magic?" Tracey stuttered out.

"Yes," Doria stated calmly, whipping out a wan from nowhere. Tracey stared with wide eyes at the astonishing and bizarre appearance of a stick of polished wood. She opened her mouth once more, but nothing came out as she watched with awe as Doria flicked her wand towards the windows which immediately repaired themselves. "You see, like me, you're a witch."

X

Doria worked for the Improper Use of Magic department, dealing in particular with underage magic. Like other case workers in her field, she was assigned to specific children. Tracey Davis was one of hers, a presumably muggle-born witch left at an Orphanage not long after she was born, showing her first sign of magic as young as two.

Like most muggle-born children, most of the feats of accidental magic that Tracey performed were minimal and didn't require much interference from Doria. However, given Tracey's particular circumstance and the increasingly violent turn of her accidental magic, Doria felt it was for the best if she informed Tracey of her status as a witch, before the girl received her Hogwarts letter. In the hopes that it would cause Tracey to take the reins of her explosive emotions, and take stock of her desire to protect herself by causing harm to others.

For the most part, her decision was successful. Tracey had no more cases of Accidental Magic which Doria had to investigate.

Until she was thirteen.

X

Doria sighed as she approached the young thirteen year old witch, whose hands were bound behind her back and her wand confiscated by an officer. Briefly, Doria's blue eyes flicked around to the festive garden party the church had thrown to raise money for the catholic Orphanage which Tracey belonged to, having never been adopted as she was.

Magical children were never adopted, as the custom was foreign in the wizarding world and as muggles always returned magical children when they realized that there was something very different about them.

Tracey had been a pretty, but angry young girl. Very intelligent and imaginative, from what Doria had noted on their first meeting and all that the Mother Superior told her. Curious and lively, but also somewhat damaged and defensive and somewhere along the way, though Doria never saw Tracey since, she'd developed a soft spot for the girl; always wondering how she was doing.

At thirteen, Tracey was nearly as tall as Doria, even though Doria wore high heels. Her long, auburn hair reached just past her shoulders and in the bright summer sun, was shining like spun silk. Her bright green eyes, were still guarded and defensive, full of anger, but also cunning intelligence.

The girl was growing into a dangerous sort of beauty.

"Tracey, it's been a while," Doria greeted to which Tracey shrugged. Doria tried not to frown. Tracey was a touch cookie, and though they'd talked for hours when they'd first met and had gotten a rapport, it had been time since they had last seen each other. Doria only hoped she still had some of Tracey's trust. "How's school?"

"Fine," Tracey said with another shrug. Doria struggled even harder to keep from frowning.

"Out of curiosity, what house were you sorted into?"

"Slytherin."

"What happened Tracey?" Doria asked finally with a sigh, seeing the small talk was getting her nowhere with the walled off girl; trying not to be upset as she took in the changes in the girl and wondering if her sorting had made her into an even more guarded person.

Tracey glared at the Magical Law Enforcement officer, making it clear that she wasn't going to speak in his presence. Turning to the man, Doria asked if she could be left alone with Tracey.

"Well?" Doria asked when the man was out of earshot and she'd released Tracey's wrists from their bond. "I thought you understood that underage magic, especially of this sort, could get you kicked out of Hogwarts. Could even land you on trial for assaulting a muggle. I assure you that while Amelia Bones is a fair woman, even she looks down on repeated assaults on muggles and wouldn't be lenient because of your age."

"You said we could use magic outside of school if our lives were in danger," Tracey said through gritted teeth in a low voice, but not looking into Doria's eyes while crossing her arms over her chest.

Doria looked around herself, hardly able to see how that was relevant. How could Tracey's life had been endangered in a church benefit, garden party?

"Are you saying you felt your life was in danger?" Doria asked, arching a sleep blonde brow.

Tracey felt her face flush and she shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "Not my life."

"Just tell me what happened, Tracey. Please?"

"I don't feel comfortable around these churchy people. Everyone except Sister Mary Clarence and Mother superior look at me like I'm a demon or some kind of freak," Tracey explained, still not looking into Doria's eyes. "So I wandered away from the part and over there," Tracey said, motioning to her head towards a walled off garden behind a shed. "That... pervert stalked me there and he tried to-"

Tracey's eyes darted around uncomfortable, her body suddenly shaking and Doria felt her stomach drop and twist so tightly, she thought it might just come lose.

"Who Tracey?" Doria asked in a voice so small, she was unsure Tracey could hear her question.

"I didn't have a choice! He's an adult, and bigger and stronger than me. I could only protect myself with magic!"

"Yes, Tracey but you have to tell me who-"

"Why?" Tracey asked, finally looking up, her eyes flashing. "No one is going to believe me. Everyone in this village thinks he's this really perfect man of god! He's a staple of their community! No one's going to believe he tried to molest the demon freak!"

"Wast it the priest?"

"What? No," Tracey said, very confused. "Father Frances is really nice. He's one of the few people in this village who is kind to me, and not because he thinks there is something to gain from it."

"Just tell me, Tracey. I believe you and I promise you, I'll make sure he pays for what he's done."

Tracey looked up then and stared at Doria with her unnerving and tense eyes.

"Mr. McGibbon, he's got a family."

X

The twenty-sis year old witch was surprised, to say the least when she arrived at the Greengrass family estate on an incident involving her favorite but most troublesome charge on yet another incident of underage magic. The last time, had been ruled sufficient cause for use of magic and no trial had been necessary. But as she was led into the parlor of the estate, she feared for Tracey. That she'd have to take and snap the girl's wand.

This time, it wasn't a muggle molester Tracey had attacked. This time it was Gerome Greengrass, brother of Gregor Greengrass, who Tracey had attacked.

As Doria stepped into the parlor and stared at the two seated girls, she found herself somewhat out of her depth.

Mr. and Mrs Greengrass were both looking rather mutinous from where they stood by the ornate hearth. Gerome Greengrass had been removed to St. Mungo's where he was having one of his hands reattached.

Daphne Greengrass, whom Doria knew by name and description because her father worked in the Ministry, was seated beside Tracey and holding Tracey's hand. Her perfect chin, was tilted up in a defiant manner, her icy blue eyes glaring challengingly at Doria, sweeping those frosty eyes over her form while pursing her full, pink lips. The sixteen-year-old, blonde beauty, turned her nose even higher.

Doria might have felt offended were it not for the vivid red mark that marred the perfect skin of the girl's face.

"If anyone is to blame, it's me. Tracey was only trying to protect me," Daphne Greengrass spoke in haughty tones.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Doria asked patiently, though she did not like how the blonde girl was looking at her.

"We were in my bedroom, which my uncle had no business entering. He infringed on my privacy and then had the nerve to strike me," Daphne said, at this flushing bright red at the indignity of having to admit that she'd been hit. "If Tracey severed his hand, it was only so he wouldn't have to opportunity to repeat the offense."

Doria blinked. "And why did your uncle feel the need to strike you?"

"It's all that girl's fault!" Mrs. Greengrass cried suddenly while Tracey blushed and stared at her knees and Daphne also blushed, fidgeting for the first time, her composure breaking. "She's perverted out little Daph!"

"She did no such thing!" Daphne jumped to her feet, whirling around to face down her mother while Doria pieced together what Gerome might have walked in on. While Daphne yelled at her parents that she had no intention of marrying a pureblood git and giving him little pureblood babies for their name, Doria found herself wondering what Tracey saw in the beautiful blonde.

Daphne struck her as a brat. An ice queen intend on getting her way. Did Tracey honestly have chemistry with that girl?

"Gerome won't be pressing charges," Mr. Greengrass sighed and Doria couldn't help wondering if he was caving just to get his daughter to shut up, or keep the press from getting wind that the most eligible, pureblood heiress was not interested in men. "I'll make sure of that."

"There is still the issue of underage magic," Doria said rubbing her brow delicately because she didn't want Tracey to be punished for protecting her girlfriend- and why did her stomach squirm at that thought?

"She'll be seventeen in a week. Couldn't this one just be let go?" Daphne asked icily.

"I suppose this could be, technically, only her second warning," Doria contemplated and wasn't it strange that her heart skipped a beat when Tracey looked up and offered her a look of unbridled amazement and gratitude.

X

The was was over, and what a trying year that had been. Doria wasn't sure, as she climbed into the lift that morning, if she'd ever feel the same about the Ministry again. And she couldn't stand the way Umbridge walked about as if she owned the damn place. Hateful old toad!

"I'm sorry," Doria apologized, turning briefly to the person she'd bumped into when she'd been caught off guard by the movement of the lift. She froze as her eyes clashed with a familiar pair of green eyes. "Tracey? What are you doing here?"

"I work here," Tracey replied with a smile.

"What? Where?" Doria asked, marveling at the sight before her. At sixteen on the verge of seventeen, Tracey had been very pretty. But now at eighteen, she was possibly the most gorgeous thing Doria had ever seen.

"Improper Use of Magic Department, Underage Magic Unit," Tracey replied causing Doria's heart to start pounding in her ears.

"Why?" Doria asked, struck dumb as she was with verbal incontinence.

"Because someone in the Unit always made me feel like they were looking after me... and I thought, that was something worth doing," Tracey replied in a small, even shy voice.

And Doria thought, even as she blinked tears away, that her heart might have melted a little. And as she stared deep into the green eyes staring at her with fondness, she felt a spark that lit her entire being and thought that things certainly weren't going to be the same anymore.

~FIN~