Whitney Writes…

Back in the Hogsmeade cottage of her mother, Cirice and Elliot stood in the entry getting their coats and boots back on to head back up to the castle. Her mother was packing a little care package for both of them to take, as though they weren’t fed in the castle. Cirice’s father was standing in the doorway to the front sitting room. She kept waiting for him to say something, but he kept fidgeting with his sweater vest.

“Daddy, what is it?” Cirice finally asked with a sigh.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked in return, with a little smile upon his face.

“It always is.”

“I have a meeting with the Queen and the Prime Minister tomorrow,” he said finally. “We’re going to discuss what to do about the writer woman. You knew her, didn’t you?”

Cirice nodded. “Yes, we were first years together.” She chewed her lip in hesitation. “She was my friend. For a while. Before they made her forget.”

“Perhaps… in time… you can join me for a future meeting, give some context of her character.”

Cirice nodded again. “I haven’t spoken to her in nearly thirty years, but I can do some brushing up. I would be happy to.” She kissed her father on the cheek. “Keep me informed, won’t you? The other professors are in near hysterics of anxiety for the school and the other children.”

The walk up to the castle was quiet. The leaves crunching beneath their boots as they glowed in the warmth of the lamp lights. She knew it was a weeknight, but Cirice found herself a bit surprised that there were no errant seventh or eighth year students sneaking back up to the castle from Hogsmeade. It was a beautiful, if not chilled, autumn evening. She also found herself grateful, as that meant that for once, the rest of the staff had been able to enforce curfew.

The Clocktower Courtyard was a different story. There was a group of rowdy students daring one another to sneak into the Clock Tower and place various objects in the gears of the massive clock.

“Then we won’t have class tomorrow!” one of the girls was exclaiming loudly.

Cirice put up a hand for Elliot to pause beside her, still in the shadow of the archway.

“But, wait, the professors like… have their own clocks… right?” said another of the girls. “Like… time just won’t stop existing because we stopped a giant clock…. right?”

Cirice gave Elliot a gentle nudge in the rubs. “Are they… are they high right now?” Elliot gave a nod with a stifled grin.

Inktober 2025, Prompt #24: ROWDY🧡🖤👻🎃