The Witching Hour: A Katie x Marcus Drabble
Summary: There's a legend on her father's side that the Bell witches are at their strongest in the hour betwixt midnight and one.
Wordcount: 891
Warnings: Nudity
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairings: Katie Bell, Marcus Flint, mild Katie x Marcus
On AO3
There’s a legend on her father’s side of the family that the Bell witches are at their strongest in the hour betwixt midnight and one.
In the woods behind her father’s ancestral home, Katie kneels before a smoking cauldron wearing only black robes over her nude form. The waxing moon casts shadows through the leafless skeletons of trees and illuminates the roots and moss in patches. The sky is dark; the woods are silent. No creature dares disturb the serene quiet this Halloween night, this witching hour.
Reaching into the pouch tied to her robes, she extracts a handful of dirt from the graves of her ancestors and sprinkles it into the cauldron, watching green flames shoot up and throw light over the clearing. She stands, unrobes, and walks in a slow circle around the cauldron with her arms raised.
Round and round she goes, circling the clearing with her wand in one hand and pointed upwards.
“Ar Saboth gwrachod hyn ', yn ystod y awr witching, gwrach Bell galw ar hud ei hynafiaid am gyfnod hwn.”
The flames rise higher and the flickering shadows turn into dancing shapes. Wisps of translucent silver emanate from the tip of her wand and spiral above the clearing, Katie guiding them into runic shapes that briefly shine brighter then disappear.
“Oh tad, yn rhoi arwydd i mi.” She chants and then kneels again in front of the cauldron, laying her wand down in the moss before it.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
She swivels and screeches. A man-because he is surely a man, now-that she has not seen in years stands just inside the clearing, staring at her with an expression of pure confusion. She covers her breasts with one arm, grabbing her robe and jumping up to pull it on. Marcus Flint cocks an eyebrow.
“Turn around!” Katie yells. Heart hammering in her chest, she holds the robe close to her.
He sighs but does what she says. “What the fuck are you doing?” He repeats.
“It’s-that’s not… stop laughing!”
Marcus stifles his laughs into small snorts and after a moment turns around, facing Katie’s now clothed body. He gives her an amused and skeptical look and keeps it up until she sighs and finally gives him an explanation.
“It’s an old family spell. A Bell witch may be granted access to the power of her ancestors once a year on Halloween. I was doing a spell. What are you doing here?”
“Out for a walk, Bell.” He replies.
Willing the furious blush from her face, she schools her features into an unimpressed look. It seems to work on him just as well as his look did on her, as after a moment he deigns to give her a more specific explanation.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I got this urge to take a stroll through the woods at half midnight on Halloween. What the fuck do you want me to say?”
A chill races down her spine. Oh father, give me a sign, the second part of her chant had begged. Shivers wrack her body and like they have a mind of their own, her feet take her closer to him. A haze washes over her and compels her to stand on the tips of her toes, reach up and place her hands on his shoulders, her head tilting to the side, considering.
Something with words that are not her own use her voice to speak.
“And what did you see, Marcus Flint?”
It’s his turn to flush now, red splotches blooming on his cheeks, ears, and neck.
He stutters a bit, saying, “There wasn’t anything to see!” She can see his lie as if it were written on his face and smiles, causing him to scowl.
In a sudden whoosh of breath, the force leaves her. She glances at the hands still on his shoulders and stumbles back in an effort to distance herself.
“Um, I…”
They stumble around each other, awkward as Katie deems the spell a failed experiment and cleans up the clearing. She vanishes the potion, shrinks the cauldron and places it into her charmed purse. He makes a few caustic comments while she does this and when she goes to bid him goodnight and leave, finds herself walking alongside Marcus as he tells her another lie about going in the same direction. While the first thoughts in her head are all about vicious pranks and rivalries between Gryffindor and Slytherin, she realizes that walking alone on Halloween night almost nude is less preferable than walking with her old bully.
He seems to have the same thoughts in mind because whenever a twig cracks or an animal cries out into the night, he draws his wand and shields her small body with his large one. The journey to her father’s home is not a long one.
“Thanks.” Katie says when they reach the gate that leads to the back gardens. She makes a quick decision and stands on her toes, pressing her lips against his cheek lightly.
Marcus sneers, but his cheeks are tinted pink and he can’t meet her eyes.
Maybe there’s something beyond the schoolyard bully Marcus always seemed to be.
Maybe the daze that overtook her and used her voice to speak wasn’t just her imagination.
Maybe there is some truth to the witching hour.
Thanks to Mel for the help on this! A picspam I made for this story. Bastardized translations are as follows:
“Ar Saboth gwrachod hyn ', yn ystod y awr witching, gwrach Bell galw ar hud ei hynafiaid am gyfnod hwn.”
=
On this witches' Sabbath, during this witching hour, a Bell witch calls upon the magic of her ancestors for this spell.
“Oh tad, yn rhoi arwydd i mi.”
=
Oh father, give me a sign.
Also! See if you can spot the BtVS reference :)
Wordcount: 891
Warnings: Nudity
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairings: Katie Bell, Marcus Flint, mild Katie x Marcus
On AO3
There’s a legend on her father’s side of the family that the Bell witches are at their strongest in the hour betwixt midnight and one.
In the woods behind her father’s ancestral home, Katie kneels before a smoking cauldron wearing only black robes over her nude form. The waxing moon casts shadows through the leafless skeletons of trees and illuminates the roots and moss in patches. The sky is dark; the woods are silent. No creature dares disturb the serene quiet this Halloween night, this witching hour.
Reaching into the pouch tied to her robes, she extracts a handful of dirt from the graves of her ancestors and sprinkles it into the cauldron, watching green flames shoot up and throw light over the clearing. She stands, unrobes, and walks in a slow circle around the cauldron with her arms raised.
Round and round she goes, circling the clearing with her wand in one hand and pointed upwards.
“Ar Saboth gwrachod hyn ', yn ystod y awr witching, gwrach Bell galw ar hud ei hynafiaid am gyfnod hwn.”
The flames rise higher and the flickering shadows turn into dancing shapes. Wisps of translucent silver emanate from the tip of her wand and spiral above the clearing, Katie guiding them into runic shapes that briefly shine brighter then disappear.
“Oh tad, yn rhoi arwydd i mi.” She chants and then kneels again in front of the cauldron, laying her wand down in the moss before it.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
She swivels and screeches. A man-because he is surely a man, now-that she has not seen in years stands just inside the clearing, staring at her with an expression of pure confusion. She covers her breasts with one arm, grabbing her robe and jumping up to pull it on. Marcus Flint cocks an eyebrow.
“Turn around!” Katie yells. Heart hammering in her chest, she holds the robe close to her.
He sighs but does what she says. “What the fuck are you doing?” He repeats.
“It’s-that’s not… stop laughing!”
Marcus stifles his laughs into small snorts and after a moment turns around, facing Katie’s now clothed body. He gives her an amused and skeptical look and keeps it up until she sighs and finally gives him an explanation.
“It’s an old family spell. A Bell witch may be granted access to the power of her ancestors once a year on Halloween. I was doing a spell. What are you doing here?”
“Out for a walk, Bell.” He replies.
Willing the furious blush from her face, she schools her features into an unimpressed look. It seems to work on him just as well as his look did on her, as after a moment he deigns to give her a more specific explanation.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I got this urge to take a stroll through the woods at half midnight on Halloween. What the fuck do you want me to say?”
A chill races down her spine. Oh father, give me a sign, the second part of her chant had begged. Shivers wrack her body and like they have a mind of their own, her feet take her closer to him. A haze washes over her and compels her to stand on the tips of her toes, reach up and place her hands on his shoulders, her head tilting to the side, considering.
Something with words that are not her own use her voice to speak.
“And what did you see, Marcus Flint?”
It’s his turn to flush now, red splotches blooming on his cheeks, ears, and neck.
He stutters a bit, saying, “There wasn’t anything to see!” She can see his lie as if it were written on his face and smiles, causing him to scowl.
In a sudden whoosh of breath, the force leaves her. She glances at the hands still on his shoulders and stumbles back in an effort to distance herself.
“Um, I…”
They stumble around each other, awkward as Katie deems the spell a failed experiment and cleans up the clearing. She vanishes the potion, shrinks the cauldron and places it into her charmed purse. He makes a few caustic comments while she does this and when she goes to bid him goodnight and leave, finds herself walking alongside Marcus as he tells her another lie about going in the same direction. While the first thoughts in her head are all about vicious pranks and rivalries between Gryffindor and Slytherin, she realizes that walking alone on Halloween night almost nude is less preferable than walking with her old bully.
He seems to have the same thoughts in mind because whenever a twig cracks or an animal cries out into the night, he draws his wand and shields her small body with his large one. The journey to her father’s home is not a long one.
“Thanks.” Katie says when they reach the gate that leads to the back gardens. She makes a quick decision and stands on her toes, pressing her lips against his cheek lightly.
Marcus sneers, but his cheeks are tinted pink and he can’t meet her eyes.
Maybe there’s something beyond the schoolyard bully Marcus always seemed to be.
Maybe the daze that overtook her and used her voice to speak wasn’t just her imagination.
Maybe there is some truth to the witching hour.
Thanks to Mel for the help on this! A picspam I made for this story. Bastardized translations are as follows:
“Ar Saboth gwrachod hyn ', yn ystod y awr witching, gwrach Bell galw ar hud ei hynafiaid am gyfnod hwn.”
=
On this witches' Sabbath, during this witching hour, a Bell witch calls upon the magic of her ancestors for this spell.
“Oh tad, yn rhoi arwydd i mi.”
=
Oh father, give me a sign.
Also! See if you can spot the BtVS reference :)