♦ let's power up! ∙ {wendy}

Hazel lagged behind the group, upset by the outcome of the bonfire. Beneath the starry sky, huddled together with a fire lit up in front on them, she’d been looking forward to s’mores (she’d never had one before) and songs. Outside, rife with mosquitoes, was a terrible setting, but one she’d been able to overlook for the sake of a nice time and Cute Teddy. Being pelted with horror story after horror story did not fit into this. The addition of everyone crying hidebehind every few seconds only made a bad situation worse. And Sienna had spent the entire time, at her side, laughing her head off when Hazel jerked or shrieked or jumped. Needless to say, she was upset with her roommate, and glad that this little event was over.

She supposed the one good thing to come out of it had been the small interactions with Teddy; he’d kindly offered to help tidy up her blanket at the end, and she’d been so happy, she’d nearly forgotten how to speak! Hazel smiled at the memory, hugging the blanket, which had been neatly rolled into a tight cylindrical shape, close to her. Up ahead, she could see Sienna standing next to Kitty and Rion, chatting animatedly. Hazel rolled her eyes, but refused to let it dull her mood.

In her lagging, she had a good view of the rest of her campmates. Everyone seemed to be caught up in the energy all of the scaring had conjured up. Some of them were still exchanging spooky stories, and Hazel felt tempted to cover her ears. Others had moved on to conversations about the various camp activities. She could overhear a particularly boring one about hiking. Then, she noticed someone in particular. Nearby, also trailing, was Wendy Willbond. Hazel stopped, waiting on the Ravenclaw to catch up.

She liked Wendy, who seemed to share her tastes in many things; she knew she could always count on the blonde to try out a new pampering suggestion from Witch Weekly. In fact, she wished Wendy had shared a story tonight – Hazel would have much preferred to be swept away in a world of princesses and happy endings than the dystopia the others had dragged her into.

“Wendy!” Hazel called out to her, shuffling the blanket to her other arm. “Are you okay?”

Wendy had really tried her best to enjoy herself at the bonfire. The young witch had lived on a farm all of her life and had done little camping-type things with her family but never friends before. The entire idea sounded like something out of an adventure tale she would have really liked: the yummy snacks, tales of valor, chatter on the adventures to come, all under a beautiful starry night, and in front of a fire. On the contrary, it had turned into a horror fest, some of her campmates finding great pleasure in telling terrible stories they had heard before, the commotion they caused along with the story, probably to get a reaction from their friends, further scared young Wendy who seemed to almost become smaller as she drew her knees to her chest for comfort, afraid that something would reach out of the woods to grab her.

And the hidebehind thing had really frightened her, even if other camp members had insisted that there was no such thing or that they weren’t native to these parts. How could she even trust that? Wendy had never been in North America before, all sorts of mysterious things lurked in the woods and while she really liked Carla and Teddy, she wasn’t sure that they were prepared to protect a group of inexperienced children from anything that might attack them, magical or not.

Naturally, her imagination only made things worse, every story painting a picture that she simply couldn’t get out of her head and before she knew it, Wendy was desperately trying to think of things that made her happy: her favorite books, the ice cream sundaes in the cafeteria, the farm, cute kittens, but nothing worked. As everyone prepared to return to camp, Wendy walked slowly behind them, too caught up in her thoughts and the horrible nightmares that they would bring rather than the fact that everyone was walking ahead of her. It was a voice, Hazel’s to be exact that brought her out of her mental spasm.

“Huh?” she asked, speeding up to catch up with her friend, “Hey Hazel,” she said with a soft smile, shaking her head when her question finally registered. “I don’t like scary stories, I kinda regret coming to the bonfire tonight,” she explained, keeping up the pace to match Hazel’s. “I really don’t like scary stories,” she emphasized, visibly shivering at the thought. “I’m probably going to have nightmares now,” she muttered quietly before turning to Hazel, trying her best to stay positive. “Did you have fun?”

Hazel nodded in understanding. “I absolutely hate scary stories,” she agreed, offering the girl an empathetic smile. She shook her head. “I don’t know how anyone had fun with all that.” She gestured with her free hand, wrinkling her nose at the memory of the first story. Hazel already disliked scarecrows, clowns, things of that nature. Any sort of caricature of a human being always held that extra frightening edge to them. ‘Harold’ had only accentuated their scariness. “I won’t be able to sleep either.”

Not surprisingly, she dreaded the thought of closing her eyes and being shoved around and chased by ghouls and monsters in her dreams. The only thing as bad as no sleep was a disruptive sleep. Hazel thought about the bags that would surely rest beneath her eyes the following day with a frown. She wondered if she had any extra soothing potion in her bag. Surely, she couldn’t ask Sienna to borrow hers. Hazel wasn’t even sure if she wanted to speak to the other girl tonight.

Hazel soon decided she needed to perform a ritual to keep herself from falling into the clutches of a nightmare. A nice warm drink to ward off the coldness of those stories, some nail painting so that she felt better, and a reread of her favourite Joey Mowie article ought to do the trick. Returning her concentration to Wendy, who she now knew was also feeling off-kilter, Hazel was struck with an idea.

“Do you want to stop by my cabin?” she asked, smiling. “We can make some teas, or hot chocolate. I brought a few Witch Weekly magazines. I’m sure there has to be an article somewhere to help with this.” At this point, Witch Weekly was like a sacred text to her. It could fix any problem.

It was nice to know that all that fear wasn’t only in the young witch’s head and that someone else, someone like Hazel who never really seemed afraid of anything, felt similarly to how she did about scary stories. “I don’t know, I think Benny and Tomie really like scary stories, so they probably had a good time, all I know is that I won’t be going to another one of those bonfires again,” she said, the thought of having to sit through another one of those sessions in the middle of the woods, in front of a fire, and with all of the opportunity for any serial killer or hidebehind or whatever awful things they had in America to get them seemed awful.

Walking next to Hazel made her feel a little better though, especially because she now knew that if something did come after her, she’d have someone to help her fight it. But Wendy had read about how panic had a way of keeping you rooted on the spot if something spooked you enough. The witch tried to shake the thought away, realizing that the more she focused on the scary things the less she could get them out of her head.

“Oh yeah, I’d love that,” Wendy responded to Hazel’s invitation, “I’ve got some marshmallows in my room if you want some?” she offered, excited to spend time with Hazel. The two of them often spent time together in their group of friends but Wendy was eager to spend time with her alone, too, to get to know her better. The two girls shared a love for Witch Weekly, so having Hazel bring that up only sweetened the deal. “I hope so, maybe they’ll be some fun articles to take our mind off of things. Do you think your roommate will mind?”

“I’d love some marshmallows,” she responded cheerily, her mood soaring already. This was going to be so much fun! She was going over all the supplies she had in her head. Her mum had said it was silly that she’d brought five different types of nail polishes, but of course they’d come in handy, just like she knew they would. Hazel felt proud and examined her nails. Their current colour was chipping; she definitely needed a fresh coat. Maybe she’d try green this time. And she had a soft pink that she thought would suit Wendy.

When the other girl brought up her roommate, she tried not to grimace – Hazel had been doing that a lot lately, and she’d recently read that it was a sure fire way to get premature wrinkles. She couldn’t risk it anymore! But, if Hazel was the type to intentionally make funny faces, she would have brought her hands to her ears and stuck her tongue out at the back of Sienna’s head. “Don’t worry about her,” she told Wendy, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

They made their way back to the site, stopping at the Ravenclaw’s cabin for the marshmallows. Hazel waved at her roommates, who she’d thought to invite, but they seemed engaged in their conversation about the scary stories. Still? Hazel couldn’t fathom why everyone was so excited about it all, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t even want to think about anything scary for the rest of the night.

When they arrived to her cabin, Sienna wasn’t there, which bugged her slightly but she ignored it. Hazel took her shoes off at the door and entered, immediately moving to smooth out the blanket on her bed although she’d already done so this morning. Grabbing her magazines, she splayed them across and moved to start working on the hot chocolate. “Sit anywhere,” she directed, grabbing two mugs. The room had come with its own magic kettle, which she was grateful for. She made the drinks at her desk and wished she could perform a cooling charm, but let them rest for a while.

Joining Wendy, she grabbed the first open book. “Ooooh, this one has a quiz for your dream job,” she stated, eyes lighting up. Hazel already knew what she wanted to be and she wondered if the quiz would line up with the image she had in her head.  “First question. What’s your favourite hobby?”

Wendy smiled in turn, happy that Hazel hadn’t thought the idea of having marshmallows with hot chocolate was weird or otherwise immature. The young witch had always noted how mature Hazel felt in some areas, almost like she was in a hurry to grow up and out of the childish ways of a pre-teen. But she didn’t pay much attention to it; she was just happy to have the opportunity to hang out with Hazel even if they were only bonding because of their mutual hate of scary stories. “Okay, but if she isn’t happy about me staying over so late, let me know,” she added as an afterthought. She would have hated to be a nuisance, and she wasn’t very good at reading the atmosphere, especially when she got distracted by the things she enjoyed doing. It was always nice to get a reminder, and she knew that Hazel wouldn’t feel bad about telling her to go back to her cabin. She could be a little mean, but most importantly, she was honest.

They stopped by her cabin to pick up the bag of marshmallows she had packed in there the day before she left for camp. She hadn’t been sure if they’d ever come to use, but it was the first thing she could think about when she thought about camping. S’mores. It seemed like a very American concept as well, which was why it made sense to her in the first place. Digging through her bag to reach for them as Hazel waited around, her shoulders tensed a little when she overheard her roommates’ conversation, “Alright! Time to go,” she said suddenly as soon as she got them, not up for another session of scary stories, and left promptly. Wendy could only hope that her roommates were fast asleep when she got back or would have moved on to another topic of conversation. That was undoubtedly the last bonfire she’d be going to in a long time.

Hazel’s cabin looked different, much more stylish than her own, but maybe it was because this was Hazel. She watched her take off her shoes at the door and paused to do the same, just in case. Plus, she didn’t want to track any dirt into her cabin, either. Wendy looked around to decide where she might sit before opting for the edge of the bed, setting the marshmallows down next to her. She picked up one of the magazines, flipping through it aimlessly while she waited. “That smells yummy!” she complimented and wondered when had been the last time she had had hot chocolate. It wasn’t typically something they drank on the farm, plus Wendy had always been more of a juice person.

“Dream job? I don’t think I’ve thought that far into the future, so that will come in handy,” she giggled, “Hmm—I guess I love to read, typical Ravenclaw, I know,” she added, knowing that it wasn’t a surprise to anyone. “What about you?” she asked almost immediately, though the idea that Hazel might like things like doing her nails or skincare did come up.