the prettiest poison { barbie, rowen }

MARCH

Billie passed Rowen her cloak before reaching to get her own off of its hook, giving the shorter girl a small smile. She set about fastening the clasp at the base of her neck with expert fingers, adjusted the cloth around her shoulders. Two steps to her right, Barbie had already had hers on for a minute.

She let the others lead as they left the greenhouses, casting a quick, wary glance up at the dark grey sky overhead as they stepped out into the cold. Thankfully, it had stopped raining sometime in the last twenty minutes of class, but Billie’s hand brushed the pocket of her cloak, feeling for her wand, just in case. They’d had to trudge down here with the mud underfoot and the rain up above. She’d cast a thousand umbrella-charms by now, and it wasn’t a hassle, but still. She was the kind of witch who liked to be prepared. She adjusted her cloak around her shoulders, disapproving of the chilly breeze that had picked up in the absence of rain.

“Did we want to go to the library this afternoon?” Billie asked her friends, catching up and falling into step beside Rowen. She tried not to sound too hopeful; she didn’t want to push for it. OWLs were looming on the horizon though, and the blonde took her studies extremely seriously. Their steps were almost perfectly in sync, a steady, beating rhythm, as the trio made their way across the damp grass.

Barbara had gotten up to leave perhaps a moment earlier than was proper, and was now stuck bouncing on her toes as Billie and Rowen did up their cloaks; she’d worn her hair down today, the top layer tied with a ribbon behind her head, and it had been ruined on the dash to the greenhouses in the rain, first dampened with the first drops that had fallen, and then mussed under her hood. What a miserable day. Nothing seemed to be going well. Her cat had vomited on her robes at breakfast and she’d had to run all the way back up to the tower to change, and then she’d misspelled ‘artificianimate’ on her Charms quiz, and now it was raining.

They set off, through the slick, muddy grass, back toward the castle.

Billie had probably directed her question at the third member of their trio, who was the most likely to decide ‘no’, but Barbara chimed in, “I think so – I’ve got to go back and review the uses of Shrivelfig in medicine, I think I’ve forgotten them all, I was so lost in class…” she bit her lip and glanced sideways at Billie around Rowen’s back, raising her eyebrows in a quiet question, wondering if – if Rowen didn’t want to go to the library – would they go without her?

Probably not.

She picked up the hem of her robes to step around a puddle, wrinkling her nose around the dismal Hogwarts grounds. It was so dreary today – much as the library appealed, she was starting to think she wanted a hot cup of tea instead.

Rowen offered Billie a pleased nod as she accepted the proffered cloak. Slipping it over her shoulders quickly, the young witch fluffed her curls out from under the fabric. Once she was confident the rings were perfect again and that Billie had ample time to admire the length of her gorgeous brown hair, Rowen turned to Barbara. She was happy to see they were all ready to go because Rowen abhorred waiting and led the group toward the exit to the greenhouse. It was dreadful outside, but Rowen did not entirely mind. She would pick a thunderstorm over sunshine any day, but she did hate that she was forced to go out in the miserable weather. It was ridiculous that the faculty expected them to traverse the grounds in such a storm.

As they trudged back toward the castle, Billie mentioned going to the library, and Rowen considered it. There was plenty of work to do, Merlin knew they had a mountain of studying for the coming exams, and Rowen expected each of them to earn top marks, but it sounded so dull. Especially after an afternoon of gray skies and plants covered in dirt. Barbara’s additional comments nearly made the young Ravenclaw sigh. “No, not the library again.” She decided, giving them each a look before continuing. “Let’s find a quieter place to study, perhaps one of the empty classrooms in the dungeons.” Rowan imagined half of the rooms down there were empty because there were very few students skilled enough for advanced potions (unlike her, of course), but half hoped they were abandoned for more nefarious reasons.

One might think that the library would the best place to study, but Rowen had zero intentions of spending her evening with her nose in a book. She was as passionate about her exams as the next two, but Rowen had other plans. As if it had been decided, the budding dark witch waited for the magical doors to the castle to open automatically (or for someone else to open it for her) before she entered. Rowen was careful to keep a half step in front of the other two, and she always walked in between them. They had made good time crossing the lawns but not so quick that her shoes wouldn’t demand another round of Scourgify.

Stopping in the entrance hall, she gave them both a judgmental look, implying they needed to take care of their shoes, and then Rowen performed a quick scourgify. While she’d had to charm her muddy shoes clean again, Rowen’s hair hadn’t lost a single bit of glamor on the trip down to the greenhouses or back to the castle. Unlike the other girls, she’d performed a waterproofing charm before they left the castle. It was wildly unhealthy for her hair, but nothing a tincture of expensive restorative oils from the Lovecraft Apothecary couldn’t heal. Honestly, Rowen would never put a price on appearances. She made a mental note to inform Barbara of the charm later and possibly even gift her with a bit of the Lovecraft potion; Rowen was a charitable friend.

Barbie’s hair emergency could have been prevented, but Billie’s situation was far direr. The young witch’s short blond locks were frazzled from the humidity in the greenhouse and dull from the rain; it was a mess. “Billie, remind me to give you that recipe for a hair-growing potion.” She mentioned backhandedly as she led them toward the dungeons. There was a wetness in the air from the spring thaw and the day’s rain; it seeped through the cracks in the foundation stones and made the air in the dungeons thick. Little pools of water collected near the walls, and the flames from the lanterns flickered in the dark water. “And there are certainly no Abyssinian Shrivelfigs in the ingredient list, Barbara.” Making what she thought was a clever joke, Rowen saved her giggle until she looked at Barbara and then waited for the other girls to join in.

Barbara answered in the affirmative and Billie tried not to look overly pleased about it. She’d still like to go to the library with Barbie, even if Rowen said no, but it whether or not it would actually happen would largely depend on the way the third girl declined. She caught Barbara’s look, guessing that she was wondering about Billie’s thoughts on that exact thing. Most of the time, Rowen decided what they were doing. Sometimes she’d ditch them to their own devices, though, so maybe that would happen today? The blonde gave her friend the smallest of smiles. More of a grimace really.

Because, well, probably not.

Quieter than the library? Billie resisted the urge to glance at Barbara again, knowing what her friend would be thinking. “The dungeons?” she asked instead, raising her eyebrows slightly. Billie didn’t really like it down there. She had a little discomfort with small spaces, perhaps, or it might just have been the vibe of the space down there — the lack of windows and so on. Maybe it reminded her of Azkaban a little, or more likely that was just her brain linking dungeons with prison. She tried to shake those thoughts away as they approached the castle.

Billie followed Rowen’s lead and cleaned her shoes as soon as they were inside. “Oh,” she said, reaching up to touch her hair self consciously. She tucked a little behind one ear. “Yes, please do,” she replied politely, tucking her wand away again. Billie fell back into step with the others as they set off towards the dungeons. She already had a recipe for the potion — she’d acquired one quite quickly after Rowen had utterly destroyed what little self esteem she’d had left when she’d come back from winter break.

Billie smiled politely at her friend’s joke, the smile turning to more of a grimace when Rowen glanced away from her. The air was thicker down here, and moist in a way that was probably making her hair look even more ridiculous. She tried to catch her reflection in an old suit of armour as she passed it, but alas, it was too rusty and the light wasn’t good enough to give her a clear view. Rowen’s words and that awful little look she’d given her would probably live in her head for weeks (months) to come. She was probably right, though.

"I wonder what kind of substitute we'll have next week when Professor Ajay is away," Billie said, offering up some polite conversation. "Maybe that one from last year." The Herbology sub from the end of their third year had left quite an impression on a lot of girls in their cohort.

Barbara pulled her lips down at the dungeons – that would do no wonders for her complexion, and no wonders for Billie’s frizzy hair, which (she thought with a guilty, nasty spite) was doubtless what Rowen wanted. She said, “I don’t care for the dungeons,” but cast a doubtful glance at Billie, who seemed to feel similarly that this wasn’t going to make any difference, or who seemed to feel similarly about the dungeons. Barbara did not care which – it was a comfort either way.

As soon as they were out of the wind her hands went to her hair, trying fruitlessly to tease some life back into it; it was still a little damp from earlier, though drying enough to be fluffy instead of flat. She sighed decisively – she would have to teach herself how to do that nifty umbrella trick Rowen was always showing off. They de-muddied; they departed. For – of course – the dungeons.

Rowen sniped at Billie’s hair; Barbara looked over at her friend sympathetically, but the other girl was trying to see her reflection in a sit of armour, so she looked away again, in time to catch Rowen’s eye instead, which had never made her feel quite the kinship she felt with Billie when they caught each others’ eyes. Rowen was not terribly funny, but she laughed, which made Barbara feel she ought to laugh too, and determinedly she avoided Billie’s gaze, for fear she’d actually laugh.

She had no idea what to say to it, though – hair potion wasn’t quite a medicinal purpose, after all – but Billie swooped in. “Ooh, yes,” said Barbara gratefully, and huffed out a sigh – “And now we’re O.W.L.s students, so we wouldn’t make such fools of ourselves trying to remember the proper names for things – I don’t think I’ll ever forget how he said ‘Asteraceae’ in my life.” She had tried her hardest to smooth her voice out, to pitch it dreamily, but sounded silly instead, so she turned pink and added, “If I fainted in class, do you think he’d make me tea?”

Did Rowen know that neither girl particularly enjoyed being down in the dungeons? Of course. Did she care? Of course not. She liked it down here; it was quiet and dark and a good place to get away with things. Rowen liked to think if she were not such a genius, she probably would have been sorted into the Slytherin house, but she was certainly glad that was not the case. She might have hurled herself off the Ravenclaw tower if she had been forced to wake up to gross fish swimming around the black lake every morning.

As they walked, Rowen listened to the way their shoes clacked against the stones, slowing slightly to make sure they were timed rhythmically. Disorder annoyed her, and she would not allow it. Billie brought up the Herbology substitute, and Rowen shrugged her shoulders, a brilliantly smooth curl falling over her shoulder. “Whoever it is, I pray they are not as clueless as Professor Ajay.” It was wrong to speak ill of a professor, but Rowen said it anyway. Rolling her eyes dramatically, the evil child sighed.

“How are we expected to pay attention when she can’t manage to remember a single lesson plan? Honestly, it is pure chaos.” Of course, that had not stopped Rowen from completing any of the assignments, learning a great deal, and preparing for her exams. There was nothing that could stop her. Barbara brought up pretending to faint in class for attention, and Rowen turned to give her a sinister, yet approving, grin. “Maybe you should try it next time,” She offered as they turned another corner.

Rowen led them past two empty classrooms and an all-purpose room that was not currently being used before finding one that suited her. No blasted windows facing the Black Lake, no windows at all. The stone walls were lined with faded tapestries, and one of the biggest cellar spiders she had ever seen in her life was hanging in the corner. Perfect, she thought. It wasn’t because she was particularly comfortable in the damp, creepy room, but because she liked to be in charge of where they went, and she knew neither one of them dared to contradict her. It was like a little game to Rowen, seeing how far she could push before one of them said something.

Setting her bag down on the table, Rowen used her magic to clean off a chair before sitting on it. She crossed her legs at her ankles and waited for them to join her. “Speaking of attention, have you broken things off with Owain?” Rowen knew the answer, but she smiled sweetly when she asked anyway.