[empty classroom] you're gonna say more { trudy }

Outside, it was raining in a very early-February sort of way; heavy enough to preclude outdoor activities, and sort of slushy, like it wanted to snow but couldn’t quite make it. They’d picked an empty classroom with a big window, but couldn’t see past the water rushing down the glass. She didn’t mind, though. Inside was much nicer, especially for Tomie Vos, who was having the time of her life writing letters to famous magizoologists for a cause she didn’t really give a damn about.

“So I get that turning, like, hedgehogs into pincushions and stuff is really bad—“ though she wasn’t really sure why exactly, seeing as how they turned them back at the end of class “—but what are your thoughts on potions? Y’know, like some of the ingredients seem a bit, I dunno, not so okay to take?” She glanced up at her friend from her cross-legged position atop one of the bigger wooden desks, trying to be subtle about gaging her reaction. She licked the sticky bit of the envelope she was holding, then glanced back down as she stuck it down carefully.

Honestly? Tomie didn’t really spend much time thinking about any of this stuff. Animal rights just wasn’t something she’d ever really considered before; she hadn’t ever thought of doxy eggs as anything other than ingredients. But. She snuck a glance at Wiltrud, then flicked her eyes back down to the envelope. She was doing her best to seem like she cared; Trudy did, and that was motivation enough for now. “Finished this one,” she said with an easy smile, holding the envelope up, her brown eyes flicking to the writing on the back to make sure she hadn’t misspelled the magizoologist’s name. Nope, it was all good.

Trudy was glad that some of her fellow second year friends were helping her with her campaign even if she wasn’t sure all of them were really into it so much. It didn’t really matter, though, did it? As long as they were a large group, got their letters written, hung up posters, put pamphlets everywhere for everyone to read…

“Yes,” Trudy nodded eagerly, her brows furrowing as she thought about the topic Tomie had brought up. “Potions are incredible! We put ourselves above creatures all the time, using ingredients that a living creature would never willingly give to us. I mean, maybe this can be justified for healing purposes at St. Mungos - though I am not really in favour of that either - but at school? We use ingredients from creatures for potions in class that are even likely to go wrong and probably won’t ever be used for anything at all! What a horrible waste that is!”

After her little speech Trudy felt rather hot, her cheeks were reddened and she was grateful when her friend told her she had finished a letter. “Great, thank you!” Trudy exclaimed gratefully. She could tell that, while Tomie was a great help, she did not have the same enthusiasm for the campaign Trudy herself had. It was fine, of course.

“I hope we can really make a change,” she still said, blushing some more. A second year student was unlikely to have a great deal of influence, people had told her so as well, but did that mean that she should stay passive? Trudy thought that she should try to change the world even if there was only a very slight chance that she’d achieve anything in the end.

Not in favour of healing potions? Tomie didn’t get that at all; how were they supposed to deal with like, dragonpox symptoms or something? She nodded along anyway, distracted by the red in Trudy’s cheeks until she made herself look away, heart beating a little too fast. Stupid. Really stupid. Tomie leaned back a bit in her seat atop the classroom table, eyes on the envelope, just in case Trudy had developed some kind of legilimency skill recently and could read her brain like… a book, or whatever, as Ravenclaws were want to do.

“That’s true,” Tomie said, eyebrows raised as she considered the latter part of Trudy’s speech; lots of ingredients were probably going to go to waste. Merlin knew she’d wasted enough armadillo bile in her first year, when her grasp of measurements had been iffy at best. How was armadillo bile… Harvested… Exactly? She hadn’t really thought about it before and felt uneasy at the prospect. “Well, if we send enough letters then they’ll have to at least respond, right?” she commented optimistically, trying but-not-quite-succeeding at banishing the thought. “Have you sent any to the ministry yet?” the Gryffindor tilted her head to the side, stretching her neck one way first, then the other.

Unfortunately, the concept of armadillo-bile-harvesting lingered in her mind. “Trudy, do you like… Eat meat?” she asked curiously, frowning as she looked at her again. Tomie thought she might die if she had to cut out some of her favourite foods, but she did feel mildly alarmed — Trudy wasn’t really wrong about anything, even if it was all new ground for her.

“It is, isn’t it?” Trudy nodded eagerly again. Tomie agreed with her. The girl was about to start another speech on the topic when her friend said that if they sent out enough letters they’d at least have to get a response.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling at Tomie. “I certainly do hope so. I mean it is an important topic, one that affects us all. We need to protect our magical creatures so they don’t become extinct.”

Tomie asked about the Ministry and Trudy pulled a face. “Yeah… well…” she shrugged. “My father works at the Ministry so I wrote to him to ask for a contact at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and he… basically told me to focus on my studies. I’ve sent a letter there anyway but… without a name to put on it I suppose it ends up on a large pile and will be forgotten.”

When her friend asked her if she ate meat, Trudy looked at her surprised. It was a valid question in the situation, of course. Trudy considered her response for a second or two. It wasn’t a yes or no question to her. “I tend to avoid it,” she finally said and gave a little shrug. “I cannot always, though. Even though I’d like to. I mean, here at Hogwarts I can… but sometimes at home I am being told to eat what is on the table and…” she shrugged almost apologetically. “When I grow up I will be a proper vegetarian, though.”

Tomie nodded, making sure to agree with everything enthusiastically, even if she couldn’t quite commit in her heart. “Oh, I’m sorry about that,” she said, glancing up at Trudy when she mentioned her dad, a slight frown on her face. Her parents would probably say the same thing, she thought. Focus on your studies. There was a reason she hadn’t told them she’d made seeker on her house team. A reason she hadn’t bragged to them about what was absolutely her biggest accomplishment so far. She glanced back down, not letting herself overthink it.

She nodded some more at Trudy’s next words. A little slower this time, though, because it required more mulling than the other stuff. No more wasted armadillo bile sounded like a good idea, but if Tomie tried to avoid eating meat at home, her mother would probably want to know if she was sick, what was wrong with her. She was sure she’d be told she was being ridiculous. But then, she didn’t think she could really ever give up rendang, and there were so many different ways to cook eggs (she loved gudeg, and that really needed to be eaten with meat), and she couldn’t give up bacon with eggs, or pepperoni on her pizza, or… Well, anything delicious, really.

She definitely would not be trying it anytime soon.

“Maybe I’ll try it too, one day,” was what came out of her mouth. Weirdly, it didn’t feel like a lie, even though she didn’t think she could ever really commit to a vegetarian diet. Maybe she just wanted it to be true, and maybe that was just because she thought Trudy would be happy to hear it, and she liked it when Trudy was happy, and—

Tomie cleared her throat. “So I’ve done all of these, what should I do now?” she asked, pushing over a small stack of sealed envelopes.

“It’s alright,” Trudy said although her face showed that she didn’t really think it was. “I guess at our age we have to fight twice as hard to be taken seriously. My dad probably thinks that I don’t yet know enough to have my own opinion on things,” she frowned and then shrugged, “but I honestly think this is important and I’m sure many adults will agree.”

Trudy smiled at her friend as she said she might try to stay away from meat. The Ravenclaw wasn’t sure how serious Tomie was about this but it didn’t matter too much. Her friend considered becoming a vegetarian to some degree at least. Now that they talked about it, the second year decided that, from today on, she would not eat any meat anymore. No exceptions. It was going to be a struggle until everybody accepted it (or simply gave up on the matter), but she thought she could not fight for animal rights on the one hand and then eat animals herself.

She was determined not to give up and to try and convince everyone (including her own family and friends) that they needed to protect magical creatures and all kinds of animals in every possible way and that included taking action and it also meant to avoid meat. One couldn’t change the world in a day but every day should be used to work on improving the world anyway.

“Hmm,” Trudy said, her train of thought interrupted by Tomie’s question. “I guess we could go to the owlery and send them off. How many do we have? Do you think we should write some more? Just in case?”