Title: you can't hide from the stars

AKA, that one OC fic no one asked for

(notes in the bottom)

I.

Much to no one's surprise, graduation doesn't seem to do much for the years of procrastination she's cultivated as a student.

I should've done this yesterday, she thinks glumly, hauling several cans of paint out to the front. One pail, holding an atrocious color of putrid orange, spills onto the cobblestone road, the thick liquid seeping through the well-trodden path.

She glares at the tipped over can in betrayal.

"I didn't need you anyways," she mutters dismissively, fumbling for her wand before vanishing the paint into another existential realm. Unfortunately, not everything disappears, and a charming, obtrusive shade of salmon is left on the street. That had been one of Professor Flitwick's first warnings, as he often reminded his students: items not of solid matter could not be entirely vanished, unless the caster strengthened the charm accordingly.

After a hard look, Diana decides to leave it, finding it a fantastic addition to the rather gloomy alley.

Once all the equipment is secure, she rolls out a sturdy length of thick parchment paper onto the ground, and steadies her wand.

Eyes closing, she inhales deeply, the smell of chemical paint flaring by. There is a hint of mildew coming from the flower shop across the street, and the back of her neck warms from the dawning sun's rays. Her exhaustion of the early morning dissolves away as magic, eager and present, rushes past her fingertips when she whispers, "Wingardium Leviosa."

Multiple objects rise to the air.

(She doesn't need to say the spell outloud, actually. She hasn't needed to in years. But still, there's something thrilling and wonderfully dramatic about verbal spells).

This had been her fifth year project, she remembers faintly, guiding several brushes to different paint cans. The brushes float to the levitating parchment paper, painting in large strokes and adorning the letters with a steady, black border.

(How many practical uses can there be for a single spell? She had asked, when, in a fit of rare curiosity, she attempted to juggle several hard-boiled eggs with her wand.

In the end, she had wasted four perfectly edible eggs, and started a terrible precedent at meal times for the rest of her Hogwarts career).

"There," she hums in satisfaction. She guides the brushes into a can full of water, flicking her wrist upwards to cancel the charm. Her wand outlines a circle before cutting a line horizontally through.

"Lenis," a gentle breeze floats through, drying the paint until she deems it ready.

"See? I always pull through in the end," she hums confidently, to no one but herself, as she takes in the newly decorated banner resting comfortably above the store's only window.

Inglewood's Consulting Fabrics: The Grand Opening!, it says, appropriately vague, in a deep, dashing green. In smaller, plain black underneath, the banner also adds, Need a gift? A souvenir? Ask no more, Inglewood is here!

In even smaller, black paint: Please see teller inside for more details.

The banner will be temporary, of course, she decides, sadly aware that this isn't her best. Still, it certainly looks professional -

"Oh my god, are you serious," she brings stained hands to her face and wails, "It's crooked!"

-o-o-o-o-o-

She leaves it on, the banner with crooked words and all, to hang despondently in front of her store.

Sometimes, you just have to work with the resources you're given, she tells herself. Besides, it's already past her opening hours - it wouldn't do to leave her customers waiting.

Feeling far more generous than before, she whisks all of her materials back into the store and clears up the residue paint outside with a quick Scouring charm.

Dumping everything in the storage room at the back, she steps out into the store, hands resting on her hips.

"Now, this isn't too bad," she surmises out loud, to the plain decor around the single, empty room. The very front expands to display her limited wares as polished dark wood lines the floor.

"Charming, just like me," she jokes, tugging impatiently at her selection of scrunchies. The lack of cute accessories in Magical Britain is a travesty, and Diana is determined to change that.

Time passes at a slow pace, the sounds of her footsteps filling the space between the ticks of the clock resting on her countertop.

She sticks her head out of the front door for the fourth time in the hour. A deep sigh escapes when the dreary street is void of anything except for the random straggler a distance away. Looking down, she lets out a huff of at the completely clean road.

She enters her little store once again and leans against the countertop, her fingers drumming against the scratched surface. Her eyes drift slowly down, the patterns of the wood near hypnotic, and from one breath to the next, the front door suddenly bursts open with an obnoxious ring.

"What," she rubs the sleep away from her lashes and blinks once, before rubbing them again. "P-Professor?"

"Well now, this is a sight to see," her former teacher remarks as she scrambles from her stool to greet him. "I hope you're not sleeping on the job, Miss Inglewood."

"Oh, certainly not, sir!" she says, lying through her teeth. With a wave of her wand, she brings out a tea set and hides a yawn behind her hand. "It's just been a tad slow."

Professor Flitwick chuckles and her lips curl into a tiny smile at the sound. As if it had been done multiple times before, they gravitate to the lounge next to the window of the shop.

"I hope it wasn't presumptuous of me to stop by," the teacher begins as he settles into a wooden, brown chair. Though the furniture dwarfs him, his posture is near impeccable. Bright, clever eyes shine with a hint of humor. "I simply couldn't stop myself from my curiosity."

A laugh escapes her lips as she pours a steaming cup of tea. "I wouldn't dream of stopping you from visiting, professor. You know you're always welcome here."

She gestures to the bowl of sugar cubes sitting at low table between them.

"Tea?" she offers.

"Two please, that would be wonderful," Flitwick hums with good cheer. He turns his gaze around her rather humble store. "You've done fantastically here, my dear. I'm absolutely positive you'll end up in great success."

"Well, I certainly hope so," Diana passes a cup to the professor, and plops several sugar cubes into her own tea. "It's a little terrifying, but I have some hope. And what about you, sir? How has the summer been treating you?"

Flitwick takes a tentative sip of his tea, a sound of approval escaping before he begins, "It's been dreadfully boring, I must say. You would think a nice break from these students would be appreciated, but the castle, it's now far too empty!"

"Professor, please, graduation was only a few weeks ago!" she shakes her head in amusement as he lets out a peal of laughter. "I'm sure you can find some other forms of entertainment."

The conversation continues in that frame for another hour or so. By then, the tea pot has been drained, leaving her to feel slightly bloated.

"I suppose I've taken enough of your time," Flitwick hops off of his chair, landing gently on solid feet. Diana, on the other hand, rises wobbly, a hand to her poor stomach.

"Thank you for visiting, sir," she smiles as he surveys her rather limited wares. "I'm, um, still working on adding more items, of course."

"That shouldn't be a problem," the teacher answers, lingering near her collection of scrunchies. "You've always done splendidly in your classes."

"Oh, thank you, for that," she murmurs, slightly taken aback.

"Nothing to it, Miss Inglewood," Flitwick picks up a savvy, dark velvet scrunchie. "Now, how much for this one?"

Bloody hell, Diana thinks as she struggles to keep a neutral face. Is he serious?

"Please, professor, you can keep it, free of charge," she says as she searches for her words. "But, um, wouldn't you want something else? Like, er, a hat? Or perhaps something more… "

"Nonsense!" the teacher interrupts with a bright squeak. "This is perfect for the upcoming months! But I certainly wouldn't want to simply take it from you. How much is it?"

"If you really want it, then you should definitely keep it, sir," she says, ushering him shamelessly out the door. "Think of it as payment for all these years, for all that you've done for me!"

Outside of the store, where the sun has settled firmly to the west, she adds on, "Besides, the Ministry has helped to fund a lot of this, professor. And that wouldn't have been possible without you."

Flitwick turns to face her, the height difference barely noticeable in comparison to the warmth in his eyes.

"You've really pulled through, haven't you, my dear?" he says, and she flushes at the words. He ties his hair with the newly acquired hair accessory in a flourish. "Even though you weren't one of my own, remember that you'll always have a place as my cherished student."

He gives a cheerful wink and a moment later, disappears with a resounding crack!

"Oh, bugger," she says to the empty road in front of her. WIth a laugh, she wipes a hand across her eyes. "What a sentimental man."

Entering her store once more, she lets out a strangled noise at the coins lying innocently next to her register.

"How." she motions to the money in front of her incredulously. "How does he keep on doing this?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

With a quiet sigh, she climbs up to her apartment on the second floor, throwing off her flats as soon as she enters. A snap of her fingers turns the lock on the door behind her.

"I got nothing done, but I'm still tired," she mutters, opening her antique fridge and pulling out a pitcher of water. Pouring out a cup, she drinks eagerly, and sets the empty cup onto a table full of documents.

"Let's see here…" her hands rifle through the mail piling up from a week previous. "Bills, letter from the Ministry, ads, oh, a letter from Abby. From… last week?"

She winces at the date marked at the top of the envelope. "Yes, okay, I'll answer that right away."

With a disappointing dinner of leftovers, Diana makes a quick note to grab more groceries, and heads off to her bedroom. The disarray within the tiny room leaves her flinching, and she runs a hand wearily through her dark hair. She walks past the bulletin board full of rune charts and formal proposals, heading straight for the calendar pinned above her dresser.

Bold red circles June 5th, with "Opening day!" written in handwriting that isn't hers.

Her lips quirk upwards as she crosses out the day with a pen. Eyes turning to the cramped window to her left, she watches the sky dye pink, the growing lights of Diagon Alley becoming more apparent a distance away.

"Not a bad day," she finally concludes, something wistful passing momentarily by. But the feelings are shaken off easily enough and she closes the window blinds with a wave of her hand.

She collapses onto her rather dingy bed, recounting the day and decides yes, today was a good day.

(The night ends with a distant lullaby, from a memory far away, perhaps from a woman long ago. It's a beautiful melody, and Diana's grateful she can still remember it, even a lifetime later).

.

.

.

So! First of at least a dozen stories I have just laying around, left to collect dust. I'll be posting more hopefully, trying to get used to the idea of new fics rather than just updating old ones.

This is that one fic no one's really looking for - an SI!OC surrounded by even more OCs - who'd want that?

Well I did. I wanted it. So I wrote it LOL

If you're hoping for the instant gratification of interacting with canon characters, I will tell you now you are probably in the worst place possible. I have been in the mood for gradual burn! stories and that is what you'll probably be getting.

on the story itself:

- "you can't hide from the stars" will have mostly short chapters, as it was intended for NaNoWriMo, except I never ended up writing it in November LOL

- again, since I'm starting where our OC starts off as an adult, I have completely skipped over the Hogwarts years. There will be flashbacks to those times, but if you're hoping for a story centering around that, I am very sorry, you are probably in the wrong place.

For anyone left over and still interested, I hope you all enjoy travelling young Diana's path as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

- SE