Cynthia MacLanley

1856: Sunshinin'

"You honestly mean to tell me that you don't know the difference between Albertus Magnus and Edwardus de Johnnes?"

"They're both famous wizards who leeved in th'medieval agus."

"Yes, but - one brought an arson spell against the French in the Hundred Years' War, and the other built a bronze head which was smashed by his student when -"

"Was th' head guee livin' in Britain?"

"Well, yes -"

"They're both famous Brit'sh wizards who leeved in th'medieval agus. Tha's all yeh need the know."

"Cyn, I thought you said you'd help me study."

"Naw, I said I'd help yeh rilax. Yeh can' learn naught whin yer all uptight, aye?"

Cynthia and Allie were sitting in the warm, late springtime grass growing on the top of the hill at the end of the main street in Hogsmeade. Both had a chilled jug of Butterbeer, but the latter was busy poring through three thick volumes while the former was examining a wayside dandelion.

"I'm still surprised you've barely studied. After that Transfiguration grade last -"

"Ach! Yeh said yeh'd ne'er speak o' that agane!" Cynthia threw the yellow flower onto his history book. "I'm goin' o'er me notes. Yeh know I took good notes."

"But the application of Transfiguration? Can you make parchment into butterflies yet?"

"'Ell...no' virry pretty uns.... Whee don' yeh just leave meh alone, Mistur I-Kin-Change-a-Lamp-Inteh-a-Gnome? Besides," she added, taking a swig of her drink, "I 'ave more imp'rtant things teh worry abit than f'nals."

"Like Quidditch?"

She grinned. "Li'Quidd'tch."

A breath-like zephyr blew gently over the boy and girl on the hill. Fresh, strong sunlight warmed the entire town, and the spring-fevered students were joyous in the street and in the shops. It was a euphoric moment, decided Cynthia, as she watched a bumblebee meander through the grass by her left leg.

"Okay, that's it. You're right. I'm wasting a beautiful day on studying."

Cynthia stared at Allie. "Yer no' gunna ge' uptigh' abou' studying, are yeh?"

"Well, later," he replied, stuffing the books into his bag. "In more inclement weather."

The blonde girl tugged on the ribbons holding her braids in place and worked her fingers through the three ropes that were perpetually plaited together on either side of her face. She shook her head a few times, and her kinky, snaky hair suddenly became a wavy, loose sheet of gold. Hastily, she pulled it back into a long, thick ponytail descending from the nape of her neck, as if annoyed by her inevitably feminine hair. But it was enough for Allie, who suddenly saw Cynthia as...a girl.

Cynthia stretched out all her limbs and laid down in the grass, facing up towards the sunshine. She closed her eyes with a little smile, and Allie extended himself out next to her.

"Hey, Allie," she said after a little while.

"Mmm?" Allie was trying to take a sip of Butterbeer while lying down.

"Wha' d'yeh wan' teh deh when yeh ge' autta Hogwarts?"

He put his bottle down and wiped his upper lip. He opened his mouth and looked like he was going to say something, but he then closed it and looked at Cynthia. "You know, don't you?"

She looked at him with an exasperated glance. "Whee would I ask yeh, then?"

"Okay, okay." He watched a small puffy cloud slowly eat the sun. "I want to be a Professor."

"Ach! Rilly!" Cynthia giggled. "I couldn' see tha' un from a kilo awee!"

Allie pushed her in mock anger, grinning all the while. "So then why did you ask me, you twit?"

"It's funnier teh hear i'from yeh." She made a funny face and put her hand over her heart, faking earnestness. "I wan' teh beh a Professur," she squeaked, mocking Allie.

"Oh yeah, Cyn. Hey, hey, I have a question, too...what are you going to do when you've graduated?"

Cynthia stopped giggling and looked at Allie with a burning somberness. "I...wan' teh beh...the Min'ster o' Magic."

Allie was shocked. "You're serious?"

She continued to look at him with sudden sincerity. And, just as suddenly, she collapsed into laughter.

"Me! The Min'ster! Ha!" She closed her eyes and threw her head back into the re-emerging sunlight. "An' the best par' was yeh believin' it!"

"Come on, Cyn. I know what you really want to be."

"Oh yeah? Wha' then, Professur?"

"A Quidditch player."

Cynthia stopped laughing and looked at Allie, frowning. "Aye, tha's wha' I wan' teh beh. I dunno if it's wha' I kin deh. Tha's whee...that's whee I ahsk'd."

"Are you kidding? You're one of the best Beaters on the field! You played in your second year, for Balor's sake!"

"But...pr'fessional Quidd'tch? I dunt want teh put all me bets on me playin'. I'us readin' abou' fam's Bea'ers an' most o' 'em get hurt or quit by age therty. I dunt know if I kin live on tha' fer the res' o' me life."

"I think you could! Cyn, you've got serious talent. Real ability. And you take half as many risks as anyone out there, but do just as well as anyone in Hogwarts. You'll be able to make a career out of smacking Bludgers, believe me. What kind of life do you imagine living, anyway?"

"A teeny house in th'middle o' no'ere. Nay," she replied, changing her mind, "a teeny house bee a lo' o' other wizards. I dunt want me kids livin' so outta tawch wi'th'magical comm'nity as I was."

"Yeah," replied Allie, thinking about it. "I could live there, too."

He really meant to say "in a similar place", but what was said was said. And, maybe, he thought later, it wasn't an accident at all.