What's The Story Of The Month?

Chapter 21

PANDORA ROSIER AND XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD

Pandora Rosier had white hair.

It was one of the few things she and her cousin, Narcissa Black, bonded over. As they liked to say, the white sheep in their family: for like their namesake, the Black family and their never-ending branches of extended family were always raven-haired.

Technically, Narcissa had blonde hair. It was platinum blonde, which meant it was white and she liked to say that she saw some hint of yellow when she was in the sun at a certain hour. Pandora called it bull, but she chose not to say anything to keep her best friend.

Pandora had always been a little eccentric, as her father liked to say when he ruffled her hair when she was younger and smiled at her with a hint of worry. Too involved in her books, and too socially awkward. She was the type—her mother said at a parlour party she had eavesdropped on—to be a wallflower her whole life and never do anything bright or big.

Well, she was partly right. Pandora didn’t much like bright or big.

As a matter of fact, she didn’t like bright at all. Nothing she liked was bright except for the sun and that, of course, was largely unavoidable. Her closet was a mesh of neutrals and pastels in the form of large gowns because her parents insisted she had formal wear that actually had colour.

She was wearing one of those neutrals now, in fact. A cozy sweater pulled on top of pants, because heaven forbid a Rosier wear those comfy Muggle jeans that so many other students always wore.

She walked quietly along the halls of Hogwarts. She wasn’t popular, exactly, but she certainly wasn’t unpopular either. It was a circle, more or less. Most people said hi to her as she walked through the corridors, but didn’t stop for a chat. Not that she wanted one, she thought with a little laugh as she walked into the library to sit down with a new book on spellmaking.

It was something she wanted to continue as a career. Well, either that or the Department of Mysteries—if her parents insisted on a Ministry job.

A few moments later, she could feel something pricking at the nape of her neck. She turned and peered a couple of shelves away and spied a boy with whitish hair that glinted pale gold in some spots.

He’s like me.

His hair was tousled and messy, but not in the artful way that James Potter's or Barty’s was. It was more… natural like it was genuinely messy and tufted in a way that somehow fit him. She couldn’t see his face, which was a bit of an annoyance. How could she identify someone by their hair?

Either way, she could identify that the boy in question was watching her because his book was upside down.

Clearing her throat, she walked over to him. “Your book is upside down,” Pandora informed him, her voice slightly condescending.

The boy looked at her, and for a moment, she was struck by his eyes. He had the sort that made somebody feel uncomfortable, those piercing blue eyes that had washes of navy near the iris and stars of cornflower dotted around.

“I know,” he responded calmly, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he’d just been found out to be watching her. His nonchalance irked her slightly.

“It’s meant to be the right way up,” she pointed out.

“But wouldn’t it be interesting to see how it looks the other way?” The boy remarked thoughtfully. “Besides, who decides it’s the other way up? Perhaps it was meant to be read upside down.”

Pandora stared at the boy, bemused. “No book is meant to be read upside down,” she finally decided to say.

He pointed at her, eyes glittering with a triumph that was strangely half cute and half really annoying. “Ah, but there you’re wrong. Plenty of Runes are to be read upside down.”

She paused. “You take Ancient Runes?”

He smiled. “Yes. You do, as well.”

“So you were watching me.”

“Who said I was watching you?” He countered, his smile growing infuriatingly smug. She felt an urge to get it off of his face. “I may have just been watching your book.”

“What would be the point in that?”

“What’s the point in anything?”

She almost stamped her foot in frustration. “You’re like the Ravenclaw knocker,” she snapped. “Always speaking in riddles.”

“You’re not a Ravenclaw.”

“Thank Merlin for that.”

“You’re rather rude though,” he observed with a touch of genuine curiosity in his tone. “Is it a Rosier thing?”

She blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Is it a Rosier thing?” He seemed completely unfazed.

“That’s insulting,” she snapped.

“So are you,” his eyes glimmered with enjoyment. Pandora really wanted to snatch that book and bang him over the head with it. She scowled.

“You’re insanely infuriating.”

“Yet you’re still talking to me,” he remarked in a sing-song voice, grinning unexpectedly. Every inch of his face was striking. Those eyes. The smooth line of his jaw, the elegant slope of his long nose. The sweet curve of his baby pink lips when he smiled.

Pandora pursed his lips. It is not fair for good-looking people to be annoying. “I’m going to stop then.”

“Please, don’t,” the boy pleaded. “You’re fun to talk to Pandora.”

She huffed at the way he said her name so gleefully. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Xenophilius Lovegood,” he introduced happily, setting the book on a shelf and holding out a hand that she—rather reluctantly—shook to be polite.

“That’s a long name.”

“Long things are beautiful.”

“That’s narcissistic,” she pointed out snippily.

“Like your friend!” He brightened.

She scowled. “Don’t you insult Narcissa.”

“Isn’t it true?” He cocked his head.

“You’re incorrigible,” she snapped. “And rude, nasty, and weird.”

She flounced off.

—---------------------------------------

Pandora had stomped away, her heart beating just a bit too fast for her liking. The nerve of that boy irritated her to no end. Who even said things like that? And why had she let him rile her up so quickly? It was utterly infuriating. She prided herself on her control, her precision, her unwavering focus. And yet, a few words from Xenophilius Lovegood had shaken her composure.

She huffed as she sank into her chair, flipping open her book with far more force than necessary. Spellmaking was meant to be an exact science, a delicate art requiring precision, logic, and patience. Not—whatever that conversation had been. A whirlwind of nonsense wrapped in an exasperating smile. She forced herself to focus on the runes in front of her, tracing their etched forms with her fingertip, willing her mind to return to the structured world of theory and incantation. But it was no use. Her mind kept drifting to piercing blue eyes and infuriatingly smug grins. No one talked to her like that. Not with that level of maddening ease.

From the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Looking up sharply, she saw Xenophilius had moved closer, now perched precariously on the edge of a table, flipping idly through a book—upside down, of course. The absurdity of it only made her angrier.

Pandora glared. "Are you following me?"

He looked up, appearing delighted. "Oh, no. But it’s a happy coincidence, don’t you think?"

She shut her book with a decisive thud. "I think you’re insufferable."

"Most brilliant minds are," he said cheerfully, tilting his head at her. "And I think you’re interested."

"In what?" she scoffed. "Certainly not you."

"No, in the unknown." He gestured to her book. "Spellmaking is about pushing boundaries, isn’t it? Discovering the impossible? It’s a bit like reading a book upside down."

She stared at him in incredulity. "That is not at all the same thing."

He shrugged. "Maybe not. But maybe you should try it sometime. Seeing things from a different angle." His voice softened slightly, and it unsettled her more than the teasing. "I think you'd like it."

Pandora opened her mouth to retort, but to her frustration, no words came out. Because the worst part—the very worst part—was that some treacherous part of her did like the idea.

Instead, she gave him a withering look. "I think you should leave me alone."

Xenophilius beamed as though she had complimented him. "Oh, but that would be terribly dull, wouldn’t it?"

Before she could tell him exactly how dull she would prefer things to be, he hopped off the table and strolled toward the library exit. "Goodbye, Pandora Rosier," he called over his shoulder, his voice lilting. "I’ll see you around."

She scowled at his retreating figure, feeling flustered and annoyed and altogether too aware of the grin he had left her with.

And yet, when she turned back to her book, she found herself flipping to the back cover, just to see how the text looked upside down.

—---------------------------------------

The days passed, and Pandora found herself running into Xenophilius more than she cared to admit. He had an uncanny ability to appear in the most unexpected places—outside the Great Hall as she was leaving breakfast, in the greenhouse where she was tending to some carefully cultivated potion ingredients, even near the Astronomy Tower when she went for late-night walks to clear her mind. It was as though he had a sixth sense of where she would be, an unshakable instinct that always led him to her. Or perhaps, she thought with growing horror, she was simply beginning to notice him more than before.

Each encounter was infuriating. And yet, despite herself, she started to notice things about him. The way he always seemed slightly lost in thought, as though the world around him was just another puzzle waiting to be solved. The way he never carried a bag like most students did—just a few loose sheets of parchment and a quill tucked behind his ear, as if he could conjure knowledge from thin air. The way he smiled, not just at people, but at ideas, as though the act of thinking itself delighted him. It was strange, and reckless, and utterly nonsensical.

She hated that she noticed. But even more, she hated that she didn’t hate it nearly as much as she should.

One afternoon, she was in the library again, poring over a particularly difficult section on wand lore, when a shadow fell over her book. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

"You again," she sighed, not bothering to hide her exasperation.

"Me again," he agreed, entirely unbothered. "You looked lonely."

"I was enjoying my solitude."

"That’s a contradiction."

She closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to stay calm. "No, it’s not."

"Of course it is," he said, taking the seat across from her. "If you were truly enjoying it, you wouldn’t have looked so deep in thought. Solitude is a state of peace, not contemplation."

Pandora pressed her fingers to her temples. "Must you always be so…so–"

"Insightful?" he supplied helpfully.

"I was going to say aggravating."

He grinned. "Same thing, really."

She let out a slow breath, then fixed him with a look. "What do you want, Xenophilius?"

He tilted his head, studying her in a way that made her feel oddly self-conscious. "I think I want to be your friend."

That caught her off guard. "Why?"

"Because you fascinate me." His tone was light, but there was a quiet sincerity underneath it that made her hesitate. "And because I think, deep down, you don’t mind me nearly as much as you pretend to."

Pandora felt her stomach twist uncomfortably. He wasn’t wrong. And she absolutely despised that he wasn’t wrong.

She sighed. “Alright. Why would I want to be friends with you?”

“Because I do the same to you.” His face is cheerful, that sweet smile of his on his face again.

“Do what?”

“Fascinate you.”

“You most certainly do not,” she snapped, scowling once more.

He grinned wider. “Lying isn’t very polite.”

“I—!” She closed her eyes again, willing herself to retain her calm. “You are so absolutely–”

“Infuriating?” He offered unhelpfully, still grinning. “Obtuse? Incorrigible? Annoying? Aggravating?”

She glared at him. “I was going to say irritating.”

“Ah, that was my next guess.” He winked at her and to her absolute dismay she felt her heart stumble. Ugh!

“We are not friends,” she declared.

“Yes, we are,” he swung his legs over the table, smiling brightly. “You can’t do anything about it now.”

His smile was stupidly infectious, she thought irritably. She was fighting back one of her own.

“Smile,” he encouraged. “You look nice when you do.”

With another groan, she obliged and gave him a tight smile. He reached over and pulled at her cheeks, running his finger along her lip to relax her face into a softer smile. “There,” he said decisively. “Much better.”

She blinked. Did he just—? Somehow, she didn’t even feel like dropping the smile. It just…stayed. Like him. Just sitting on the edge of the table, smiling in that sweet—not sweet, annoying—way of his.

What was the most annoying about it, Pandora thought with a resigned sigh, was that she didn’t even mind it that much anymore.

—---------------------------------------

Narcissa flung down her quill with a dramatic sigh. “That’s it, I’m dropping out and marrying Lucius early. What in Merlin is this?”

“Astronomy,” Pandora replied without looking up, rather used to her best friend’s outbursts. “The subject you chose to take, might I add.”

“Well, I wish I hadn’t!” Narcissa sounded close to exploding. “None of this makes sense. And it’s all numbers, dear Merlin. How Lucius wants to go into this, I’ll never know.”

“Makes him rich.”

“That’s fair,” Narcissa sighed, tipping back her chair. “So, how’re you and that odd bloke going? He had a weird name, didn’t he—some long gibberish.”

“That’s rather rude, Cissy. His name is Xenophilius, and you make it sound as though we’re dating.”

“You’re not?”

“No!” she said loudly, slamming her book shut. “Friends, just friends.”

“I heard you call him Xeno the other day,” Narcissa pointed out, a trace of glee in her expression—the look she usually got when she had found some particularly juicy gossip.

“I did not.”

“You so did.”

“I would’ve said the full thing but he cut me off!” Pandora defended herself, blushing.

“Sure, sure,” Narcissa drawled knowingly. “You’re about as subtle as…” she consulted her Astronomy notes. “Saturn’s rings.”

Pandora stared at her. “You’ve taken six years of Astronomy and that’s the best you could come up with?”

Narcissa scowled, flicking ink at her hair. “Shush.”

“Hey!” She brushed the ink out of her white ringlets, glaring at Narcissa. “You are so–”

“Rude?” a familiar voice chimed in. There the suspect of the conversation stood, leaning casually against a bookshelf. Damn Lovegood. “You say that a lot,” Xenophilius added with a mischievous smile. “Cute hair.”

She scowled. “Shut it, you.”

He tsked. “She has a habit,” he said to Narcissa. “Of calling other people rude when she is oftentimes herself the same.”

“It’s troubling,” Narcissa agreed, shooting Pandora a sly look that said go get him! Before her eyes flickered back to Xenophilius. She rose from her seat before a tiny smirk flickered onto her smug face. “Okay, if I do more Astronomy, my brain will dissolve, so I’ll leave you two… friends… to it.”

She pushed Xenophilius towards the table before disappearing towards the doors, Pandora sending her a death glare as she did so.

“So,” Xenophilius began. “You still have ink in your hair.” He reached across to brush through a ringlet, winding it around his fingers so that the ink slipped onto them as he coiled her hair before letting go.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“You’re welcome, Pandora.”

“Why do you always say my full name?” She questioned abruptly. “Cissy calls me Pans. The Slytherins call me Dora. I feel so formal when you say the full thing.”

He looked bewildered. “But your name is pretty. I’d like to say the full thing.”

“Isn’t there anything else you could say?”

He seemed to ponder the thought. “Do you know,” he questioned suddenly, “of pandas?”

She eyed him. “You may as well stick to Pandora, then.”

He snickered. “Both are cute. Like you,” he tugged on a curl and her gaze snapped to him in outrage.

“Leave my curls alone!”

“But they’re so lovely,” he said wistfully. “And your hair is so soft—like dreams.”

She scowled. He’s too damn cryptic, she thought. Once upon a time, she would’ve corrected him in condescension, told him dreams aren’t tangible, Lovegood, and now all she had to say was a tired, “Yeah, okay, Xenophilius.”

—---------------------------------------

For the first time, Pandora was searching for Xenophilius.

She hadn’t seen him in a good three days and while she would’ve thought she’d have welcomed the peace and quiet…she didn’t. She didn’t appreciate it at all. She’d grown rather fond of the way that Xenophilius looked at the world—as though nothing was ordinary and there was magic in just about every normal thing you could think of.

So, there she was, searching in vain through the corridors.

After much grumbling, Narcissa was by her side, and she continued on her sulkiness now. “I don’t see why I have to help you find him, Pans,” she whined. “I have Astronomy homework to do—”

“You mean to pay Bella to do.”

“It’s the same thing, the professor hasn’t known my actual work since I was in Third Year. Why are you so dead-set on searching for this weirdo anyway?” Narcissa placed her hands on her hips, arching her meticulously groomed eyebrows.

Pandora sighed. “Because we’re friends.”

Narcissa snorted, a rather unusual sight. “Oh, please, you haven’t been friends since the moment you met. The oddball loves you.”

Pandora scowled. “Shut up, Cissy.”

They continued to search the castle. Somehow, he was nowhere to be found. Narcissa sighed vexedly. “Honestly, this is getting tiresome. He’s not been in his common room—and after all that effort we went to solve that stupid riddle too—he’s not in the library, Astronomy tower, greenhouses, courtyard—”

Pandora paused. “Wait, what was that?”

“Courtyard?”

Pandora rolled her eyes. “No, Narcissa, the Astronomy tower. We haven’t searched there yet.”

“Yeah, ‘cause no one bothers to go all the way up there unless they’re forced to by Professor Sinistra,” Narcissa pointed out.

Pandora looked pointedly at her. “Yeah, and Xenophilius is just like everyone else.”

Narcissa groaned miserably. “I hate you. Why did my best friend have to like some weirdo?”

Pandora shoved her as they walked.

—---------------------------------------

After climbing Merlin knew how many stairs, Pandora and Narcissa finally reached the top. Narcissa slumped down on the final step, burying her head in my hands. “I need a minute,” she gasped out. “Or several. More. Probably.”

Pandora snickered. “You do that. I’m going to see if he’s there.”

“Kiss him hello for me.”

Pandora scowled at her before opening the door and walking in, her gaze flitting across the room. “Xenophilius?”

At first, she didn’t see him, and then she did. He was perched precariously on the silver railing to the left, legs swinging over and leaning against a pillar.

“Xenophilius!” She said sharply, hastily going over to him and tugging at his arm. “What’s wrong with you, Lovegood? You’re going to fall.”

He furrowed his brows, looking bewildered. “There’s a charm to prevent that,” he pointed out.

She blinked. It was almost strange to hear him say things in such a matter-of-fact way. She tugged him down by his arm anyway. “Doesn’t matter. Get down.”

He grumbled, but obeyed, slipping down with an ease she never failed to be surprised by. “Now what were you doing up here in the first place?” Pandora demanded, crossing her arms as she stared at him.

He shrugged. “Thinking.”

So now he wants to give sensible answers? She would’ve rather preferred his roundabout riddles.

She scowled. “You can think anywhere, stupid. What’d you come all the way up here for?” She gestured annoyedly to the stairs. “Takes ages to walk up.”

“You walked up the 7000 steps?”

“There are seven thousand steps?” Good Merlin, no wonder Narcissa needed to catch her breath. “How else would I have gotten here?”

“Levitated.” He shrugged. For once, she truly appreciated the absurdity of his words.

Pandora rubbed her temples. “Right, of course. Didn’t think of that.” Sarcasm wrapped around her words.

“Next time.” Xenophilius grinned. She liked his grin—it was wide and sweet, full of happiness. Almost pure, in a way.

“Sure, Xeno, next time.” She rolled her eyes. “Now, why were you really up here?”

The smile faded and she almost regretted the question. He sighed. “I was talking to…someone.”

“Up here?” she furrowed her brows. “There’s no one around.”

He looked at her like she was the weird one. “No, before this.”

She sighed. “Okay, well, who did you talk to?”

Xenophilius shifted, looking rather uneasy. “Er… your brother.”

“Evan?” she frowned. “What were you talking to that toss—” she cleared her throat. “My brother, for?”

The ghost of a smile fluttered on the curve of his lips. “Well, he spoke to me first.”

She waited for him to continue. “Merlin’s sake, Xen, must I drag all the answers out of you? What did he say?” she said frustratedly when he didn’t speak.

He looked massively uncomfortable. “Er… he told me to stay away from you. Because you were becoming… weird. Like me.”

She blinked. “That’s utterly nonsensical. Even more than you are.”

“He said–” Xenophilius continued. “That you were wearing colours, you were going out more, you were less… normal.”

“What does that even mean?”

Xenophilius shifted. “He hexed me when I asked,” he mumbled.

Pandora might have laughed if the rage she was feeling wasn’t there. She sighed vexedly. “He’s such an absolute idiot. And so are you.”

Xenophilius’s expression shifted to one of indignation. “Why am I the idiot?” He questioned, looking put out.

“Because you listened to him!” She exclaimed in irritation. “Why would you do that?”

“He’s your brother!” Xenophilius protested.

“Exactly! He’s not me,” Pandora sighed again. “For future reference, you do not need to leave me alone, thank you very much. My life has been so boring without you the past few days.”

“I think Evan would call that normal.”

“Evan is an idiot.”

He cracked a small smile at that. “There we go,” she said delightedly, seeing the smile. She moved her hand to touch his lips, letting him smile genuinely, feeling a sense of déjà vu. “Smile more.”

His smile softened into something sweet and unsure. “Only for you.”

Oh, how I love that smile.

“Don’t listen to Evan,” she told him. “Or the Slytherins, or the Ravenclaws, or anybody. You’re you, and you’re great and they don’t get it because they’re all simply at a much lower level of intelligence.”

He smiled at her. “You’re rude. I like it.”

“Yeah, I like you too,” she mumbled unconsciously.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She said hastily, pulling him along. “Let’s go—” she tugged at the door, only to find it locked.

That absolute witch. “Narcissa!” she called in outrage. She heard nothing except a clatter of shoes down the stairwell and muffled giggling. “I hate that girl.” Pandora muttered.

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” Pandora sighed again. “Alohomora.”

The door still didn’t open. She frowned at it. “What? That should open.”

Two more Alohomoras and it still stayed closed.

“Perhaps she locked it magically,” Xenophilius suggested.

“Stop being practical. I don’t like it,” she scowled, marching over to the railing. “You said there’s a charm to prevent falling, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so.” Xenophilius walked over to the railing, eyeing her.

“You think so? You were willing to risk your life on thought?”

He smiled sheepishly as an answer and she fought the overwhelming urge to smack him. “Someday you’re going to die without me,” she mumbled in irritation. “If it’s the charm I think it is, it’ll just make us fall in slow motion..”

Xenophilius seemed to catch onto what she was saying and his eyes widened. “Okay, I think Evan’s right, you cannot be thinking of doing that.”

Pandora smiled slyly, tugging his hand closer as she pulled herself up to the railing. “Oh, but I’m not just thinking of it. I’m going to do it.”

“You’re going to kill us both!”

“Then we’ll die together,” she returned matter-of-factly, yanking him onto the railing.

He clung to it desperately. “Panda. Pandora. Pandora Rosier. Please don’t do this.”

She shrugged. “Too late.”

And then she fell.

Some people describe the fall to Tartarus, the Greek Hell, as taking nine days. It certainly felt as though that was what was occurring to both Pandora and Xenophilius, who had his mouth open in a silent scream as they fell, clinging together.

And then they felt solid ground beneath their feet and time returned to normal.

Xenophillius stumbled back, looking alarmed. “We’re fine. We—we’re fine.”

“Exactly.” Pandora grinned. He looked like he wanted to smack her over the head now. “I told you—”

He launched himself into a hug, making her stumble back. “Oh, Merlin—Xen!”

She giggled, hugging him and patting his back. “You cutie. I told you we’d be fine.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m still reeling.”

She laughed more as he drew back, his eyes scanning hers. They were more intense than usual and suddenly she noticed a thin ring of violet around his pupil. He’s close. Those flecks of cornflower blue rippled across his irises, intermingling with a thousand waves and shades. He looked at her for a moment and she looked back and she might have forgotten how to breathe. He was very, very close.

“Pandora,” he whispered. “You’re really, really, pretty.” He tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear, a proper tuck rather than the half-hearted movement most boys attempted. It was so…him.

“Thanks.”

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, still in that soft, sweet, almost pleading tone of his.

She held him close, tilting her head up towards his. “Yes, please.”

And then he did. And it was everything she wanted.

His lips felt like dreams.

—---------------------------------------

Written by Sara Rowan.
Edited by Hazel Antler.
Proofread by Daphne Clarke.