“Right,” Cirice said with a sigh. “If you did some digging on me, you know I was named Headmistress at Hogwarts last year. I came here as a friend, hoping you would reconsider naming where the school is located, as I have concerns for my students and their safety.”
“Why?” Joanne shot back, “Do you think my fans will be disrespectful?”
“Jo…” Cirice said with exasperation. “They’re children, hundreds of them, whom I am responsible for the safety of. I do not want them caught in the crosshairs of random tourists trying to spot a glimpse of the Quidditch pitch.”
Joanne chuckled, but her smile held no warmth. “I met with you out of curtesy. Because you were the only classmate that didn’t laugh at me back then, like I’d somehow chosen to be humiliated in that manner.” She scoffed, “I won’t be holding anything back from my book tour. I’ll tell them exactly how to find Hogwarts. And Hogsmeade. And Diagon Alley. And all the other secreted away little communities.” Joanne’s upper lip drew into a sneer. “And very soon, after the wonder has worn off, all the world will be wondering why these illustrious wizards didn’t just magic us all a better world, not just themselves.”
It struck Cirice how skeletally thin Joanne’s hand looked, how near-gaunt her face was. She wondered exactly how far off those homeless days of Jo’s actually were…
Inktober 2025, Prompt #28: SKELETAL🧡🖤👻🎃
Whitney Writes... 
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