time, mystical time [aidan]

[BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH]

Late December 2025

Autumn term had ended at Hogwarts, and Brígh hadn't been there. It was with good reason that her mam had withdrawn her for just the year, but Brígh was ready to return. She gazed up at the castle, the midday sun twinkling off the frosted windows, the snow dappled towers glimmering. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her freckled face. Hogwarts was calling her home. And she would return for the latter half of her final year of magical schooling soon enough. Brígh finally turned away from the majestic castle and surveyed Hogsmeade High Street.

Brígh had caught wind that Eli was working at a magical wildlife rehabilitation centre here in Hogsmeade. He'd been slow at responding to her letter, which led Brígh to search him out in his own right. She didn't know if he would be back in America for the holidays, but it was worth trying to find him at his place of employment first. She tugged on the tail of her plait as she searched for a sign - she didn't remember much of where the centre was. Thankfully, as if some beast was answering her prayers, a shrieking wail beckoned her towards what could only be a wildlife centre.

Trudging through the slushy streets, Brígh wondered what Eli's reaction would be to seeing her in the flesh. Guilt had chewed her up inside for going completely dark. She'd simply not had the energy to write to anyone. Not even Albus, whom she'd fancied since she was fourteen. Nothing had mattered those months at home, nothing except that her da's health would improve. And now that it had, the cogs of Brígh's life could start turning again. And she would start with her very best friend.

Brígh approached the centre, but no shock of messy black hair was immediately visible. She picked her way through the slightly overgrown garden to the first person she spotted - a young man around her age with bright red hair and a sharp look to his face. "Hi," said Brígh breathlessly, her cheeks rosy from the cold. "I'm looking for Eli Theron? Does he work here? Is he working today? Who are you?"

Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn
no one expects the spanish inquisition

[Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn]

Late December 2025

Oh, Aidan was so in trouble. But it wasn’t his fault, really! When someone finds a chaotic situation, with mooncalves everywhere, the only thing left to do is brainstorm some solutions. And, well, Aidan had been sure releasing the crups would work. Didn’t dogs like to herd things? Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case, and he and Eli had gotten busted by their supervisors. Since they were technically in separate tracks, their punishments had been too. Eli was being taken care of by the researchers, and Aidan had gotten a stern lecture from the magical veterinarian he was studying under. But it hadn’t been so bad, really. Even after two years, his English was only passable, so most of the man’s lecture had sounded like gibberish to him anyway.

After a while, Aidan had begun to suspect that he was being given the less-appealing jobs on purpose. But he really couldn’t be sure, so just to be safe he didn’t say anything. But the thought occurred to him again when the vet told him that some kneazles had been found with dandruff, and he would need to use a special shampoo to address this pesky issue. He’d used his mirror to speak with his family back on Hy-Brasil, since they were mostly Herbologists and knew just about everything when it came to magical plants. Then he’d prepared the shampoo following their instructions. Something he had learned at a young age was that kneazles hated being touched. But well – druid animal affinity, you know. They didn’t seem thrilled at the idea of a bath, but they tolerated it anyway as Aidan handled them gently and got through the ritual as fast as possible. But he hadn’t planned it well and ran out of shampoo only two dandruffed kneazles away from being done. So now he was back at one of the nature reserve’s wild gardens, hunting down the plants he needed according to his grandmother’s descriptions. Some evidence of the previous kneazle chaos was still evident from his appearance – mussed hair, soapy patches on his shirt – but he didn’t care much about that.

Aidan had gotten into a rhythm of digging through the bushes, so he blinked owlishly as he heard someone calling out breathlessly – to him? He poked his head out from a rose bush and watched blankly as a redhead approached. She looked like she might have just left Hy-Brasil – shocking red hair, and pale, freckled skin. Naturally the chances of her being a druid were very low, but after a lifetime of being surrounded by redheads…it just made Aidan like her more automatically. His English was still bad, but it had improved by leaps and bounds since he had first started working at Hogsmeade. So he returned her hello quickly. “Hi,” he said in a bright, if not confused, tone. He tilted his head curiously as she spoke very very quickly, asking about Eli. Suddenly the thought of mooncalves filled his mind again, and Aidan laughed sheepishly. “Eli is…busy. Mooncalves,” he said in his heavily accented English, tacking on the last word as if that was all the explanation needed. She asked who he was, and Aidan nodded decisively. He had answered this question so many times he was getting very good at it. “I am Aidan,” he responded with a smile. Then he parroted her question back at her. “Who are you? Eli…he know you are here?”

BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH

[BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH]

A shock of bright read hair poked out of the bushes surrounding the Hogsmeade animal sanctuary, and overlarge eyes turned her way. She beamed at her fellow red-head, hoping he would be able to answer her questions and help her track down Eli. It had been nearly a year since she'd last seen her best friend, and while she was a bit terrified of the berating she was bound to get for her silence, she was also abuzz at the prospect of seeing him again. She'd truly missed the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the snort of laughter he gave when he found something truly funny. Brígh was forever thankful for the time when they'd found Bean in a London park.

Brígh shot rapidfire questions at the poor, unsuspecting young man. He greeted her brightly, looking at her with those perplexed, owlish eyes. The look on his face made her want to giggle, though she managed to suffocate that desire for the most part. However, it was not to be, as the young man laughed. It was contagious, the sound of his laugher and Brígh found herself laughing along with him. She had no idea why she did that anyways - there was a lightness to him, a simplicity that she so admired. Finally, he responded to her in heavily accented English. Her favourite game of guess the accent tempted her, but she once again swallowed that reactive desire down. It was a good day for her, it seemed. "Ah yes, makes sense," said Brígh, nodding sagely. It didn't make sense, but she wasn't sure how else he would explain it. Perhaps he wouldn't have the proper words.

With Eli busy with work, Brígh didn't want to disrupt him. But now that she was here, she was curious about this new person. Aidan. She replied with her own name, and an answering smile - "Brígh. Lovely to meet you." She approached the fence, picking her way over it to join Aidan by the rose bush. She brushed her fingers along one of the stems, trying to be careful of the thorns that were there as surely as the grass was green below their feet and as surely as Aidan had a common ancestor with Brígh. "No, Eli doesn't know I'm here. I hope you don't mind me disturbing you now. I have been a bad friend to Eli and I was only hoping to make it up to him," said Brígh, lifting her gaze from the rosebush to Aidan. "Where are you from, Aidan?" asked Brígh.

Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn

[Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn]

Aidan liked her energy! Besides being a redhead, which was such a familiar sight that it put him at ease automatically, she seemed easy to please. She smiled quickly, laughed with him instead of looking at him perplexedly like many strangers seemed to like doing, and nodded seriously when he gave his simple explanation about Eli and the mooncalves. Aidan had found that so many mainlanders seemed to be stressed or unhappy most of the time – taking everything seriously, with furrowed brows and pinched lips as if they’d just spent time sucking on a lemon. The friends he had made, like Eli, seemed to be the exception rather than the rule. People who appreciated everything life threw at them instead of worrying all the time.

“Yes, mooncalves serious issue here,” he attempted to respond with a straight face, although a smile pulled at his lips and ruined the image. Aidan wasn’t sure exactly what the researchers had Eli doing, but he assumed it was something as mindless as the tasks he’d been given. Not that he disliked taking care of kneazles, which were definitely in his top ten list of favorite creatures. It was only that finding the right herbs was taking longer than he’d thought, and there were a couple of very dandruffed kneazles waiting unwillingly to be given a bath. When Brígh introduced herself, there was a very visible look of relief on Aidan’s face. Finally a name he recognized! He knew a Brígh back home from class, although she was a few years older. Still, on Hy-Brasil everybody knew everybody to some extent. “Brígh. I like it. Easy to say,” Aidan said approvingly, watching her fight her way through the bushes to examine the rose bush he was at.

That reminded him that he had been in the middle of something, so Aidan turned back to the bush to examine a rose and gently pluck a petal. He needed (well, wanted) rose petals for the shampoo, since most of the other herbs had very strong smells and the magical veterinarian had warned Aidan that the kneazles ‘better smell like roses’ by the time he was done. But the thought of killing a whole flower depressed Aidan, so he was picking individual petals off different blooms until he had enough. Brígh spoke very quickly, and Aidan scrunched his face in concentration while he picked petals and placed them in his satchel. “Not disturbing me,” he assured her brightly, pleased with himself that he’d caught that thought and understood it. He didn’t mind the conversation while he worked, and Brígh seemed like a sweet girl. Even with this supposed ‘bad friend’ business she was telling him about.

She asked where he was from, and he responded very excitedly, “Hy-Brasil!” His favorite place on earth. “Home of druids,” he tacked on a moment later, since he’d realized quickly not all his co-workers knew about the island. “Not all druids in Hy-Brasil, though. Some here,” Aidan observed thoughtfully. He thought of his cousin, who was from a small druid community in the north, and he’d even heard of druids who were currently students at Hogwarts. He shook his head in wonder at the thought. “Bad friend how?” he asked suddenly, remembering Brígh had told him that was why she was here to see Eli. “You...say something bad?”

BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH

[BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH]

Brígh couldn't contain her glee as she conversed with her new friend. Because as surely as there were clouds in the sky, Brígh was certain Aidan was going to be a friend. And a very lucky one to have indeed - he seemed sweet and even tempered. She mentally glossed over the fact that everyone was even tempered in comparison to her. She decided to leave Eli to his business and to stay here with Aidan instead. "I've never even seen a mooncalf," lamented Brígh. They weren't really on the curriculum for Care of Magical Creatures, which she had dropped after her OWLs. "What are they like?"

When Aidan, asked for her name, Brígh responded eagerly. "Lots of people say it wrong because it's spelled like B-R-I-G-H with an accent over the I. I get Brigg often," said Brígh, wrinkling her nose in distaste. She liked the sound of her name, but it was only useful in Ireland. Scotland was better than England, where their pronunciation was absolutely hopeless. Of course, her brother had been blessed with an easy to spell, easy to say name. But Bran wasn't nearly as interesting as Brígh. She brushed her fingers along the stem of one of the many roses dotting the bush, careful of the thorns lurking out of sight. Aidan plucked a petal from various different flowers, careful not to take more than one from each bud. He worked curiously but effectively and soon had a handful of petals. Brígh plucked a few petals from the buds nearest her, and offered them to Aidan. She apologised for disturbing him, but he didn't seem put off in the slightest. Instead, he seemed delighted to have her company. Whilst Brígh considered herself a delight, she knew that many people found her irritation, claiming she had too much energy. There was nothing of that lingering between the two youths.

Brígh was curious about Aidan's origins - they looked like they could be cousins, but he had quite a different accent from what she expected. He responded with unfiltered delight that he was from the home of the druids - Hy-Brasil. "Oh, wow!" said Brígh, unable to mask her shock. She'd never met a druid before. She leaned forward, appraising him. She didn't know much about the druids, except they had always existed, lurking in the background. She'd thought maybe they would have green tinted skin or something. But Aidan looked perfectly normal. "A druid. You can teach me everything there is to know about you," said Brígh with a mischievous smile.

Aidan asked about her having been a bad friend to Eli, and she morosely plucked a petal from a rosebud. "Not something bad, no. More like nothing at all. I went away for a year and never wrote." There was no excuse for her radio silence, even with her fathers illness completely encapsulating her attention. "Hopefully he won't stay mad at me for too long." She glanced at Aidan with a sheepish grin on her face. "Luckily, Eli isn't one to get mad very easily, is he?" Once she had a handful of rose petals, she offered them to Aidan once more. "What are the rose petals for? Mooncalves?" she asked.

Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn

[Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn]

Aidan’s face lit up at the thought of mooncalves. What was the best way to describe them? They were adorable creatures, very sweet and not a threat to even the most amateur of magical creature lovers. They could also get extremely rowdy, which wasn’t helpful when you accidentally let them out of their enclosure and then had to herd them all up again. “Mooncalves very shy,” Aidan finally said, shooting an excited smile at Brígh since someone had finally asked him about something he loved to talk about. “They awake during full moon, and they dance! Very cute.” His Herbologist family also loved mooncalf dung, since it helped magical plants grow fast and strong. But that was less interesting than the mooncalves, in Aidan’s opinion. He nodded very seriously at Brígh’s explanation about her name, although the smile stayed on his face. He liked seeing someone as eager as him – it was nice to watch.

His eyes flicked down to take in the handful of rose petals she was offering him, and Aidan’s smile widened as it reached his eyes. It felt like an offer of friendship, as if the petals were representing more than just the roses themselves (and he felt very accomplished at having such a deep and profound thought). He extended his hand and gently accepted the petals, scooping them up carefully and placing them in his satchel with the rest. “Thanks,” he said simply. And when she realized he was a druid (and therefore apparently “different”) Aidan released a short burst of laughter at the look of shock on her face. When she leaned in close as if to examine if he was really human, Aidan felt his shoulders creep up to his ears and he blushed at the close scrutiny. Hey, what else was he supposed to do when a pretty girl wanted her to explain ‘everything there is to know’ about him?

He was almost relieved at the rapid change in topic, because he was tongue-tied and had no idea what he wanted to say to that. Aidan cocked his head in curiosity (the same way he did in his animagus form) as Brígh explained what had made her such a bad friend. It was vague, and Aidan didn’t quite understand how someone could disappear for a whole year with no contact at all. No owl post? No magic mirrors? He couldn’t imagine. Aidan contemplated the idea as he moved on from the rose bushes until he found a clove tree, absentmindedly tugging on Brígh’s hand so she knew to follow him. He began to pick small bunches and nodded at Brígh’s question. “No, Eli very nice,” Aidan agreed, standing on his tiptoes to reach a particularly good-looking bunch. “Eli very good friend. He will understand!” Aidan decided, slipping the cloves into his satchel as he nodded again. He wasn’t worried for Brígh at all.

His movements had been almost automatic, so Aidan blinked himself back to reality as Brígh asked what the rose petals (and now the cloves) were for. He laughed at himself. “Not for mooncalves. Kneazles.” He couldn’t remember the word for dandruff in English, so he explained, “Their skin…very dry. Need healing salve. My family give me recipe. Look!” He reached a hand into his bag to pull out some of the herbs he’d been collecting all day. “Cloves, to scare bugs away. Aloe, to…make skin wet. Moisturize.” Aidan pronounced the word carefully, but he was sure he had still butchered the pronunciation. “Roses…so it smell good!” He explained each ingredient with a proud tone, because what else could he be when it came to his family? They knew what they were doing when it came to magical plants.

BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH

[BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH]

Brígh watched as Aidan lit up at the thought of mooncalves, explaining them in his broken English. There was something so sweet and kind about him, Brígh couldn't help the surge of affection. To her, he was the epitome of what a human should be - caring, passionate and selfless. Witch, wizard or muggle didn't matter. "They dance! Can you demonstrate for me?" asked Brígh, a mischievous glint in her eye. She would love to see Aidan's rendition of a mooncalf dance. But she'd have nothing to compare it to, as she'd never seen the shy creatures before. She wondered if Aidan was shy - he didn't seem like it at all. But perhaps he had just taken to her as she had to him.

Aidan blushed at her close scrutiny, and a very feline smile crept across her lips. She narrowed her eyes slightly, examining the smooth planes of his cheeks, the fairness of his skin. "Hmm," was all she said, before changing the topic. She leaned back, tucking a long lock of red hair behind her ear. She explained how she had been a bad friend, about how she could have tried harder. Her parents had let her have a muggle cell phone, but naturally those sorts of things didn't work at Hogwarts. And then, she'd forgotten about using it once he'd graduated. "Yeah, Eli is very nice. Like you! you're also very nice, and though I wanted to see him today I am very pleased to have met you instead," said Brígh, squeezing Aidan's hand. He had led her to a clove bush and was methodically picking at it. She questioned his motives, and Aidan gave a well thought out answer.

Brígh plucked a clove from the bush and sniffed it. Her eyes watered at the strong scent as she held it out for Aidan. "Moisturise," said Brígh slowly, enunciating the word for Aidan's benefit. "Your English is remarkable," she added. He didn't have a strong grip on the vocabulary, but it was clear he was trying very hard. She giggled at his excitement at roses making it smell good. "Roses do smell good! But I like lavender better. It's very calming too. Maybe we can find some so the kneazles don't get scared when you try to give them the salve. What do you think?" It was clear to Brígh that Aidan was the expert here, not her.

Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn

[Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn]

Brígh might just be messing with him, asking about mooncalf dances. It happened sometimes – Aidan was an easy target because he would do just about anything someone asked. There had never yet been a time that Fiona hadn’t taken advantage to sneak up and spook him. But he didn’t get the impression that Brígh was trying to embarrass him, because she didn’t seem like that kind of person. In the short span of time he’d known her, Brígh had started helping him collect rose petals, worried about being a bad friend to Eli, and asked follow-up questions to exciting topics nobody ever seemed to want to know more about – like mooncalf dancing rituals. So Aidan put serious thought into the question, face settling into an expression of deep concentration. Eventually he brightened and observed, “Mooncalves bounce when they happy!” He tried jumping up and down a few times, laughing at himself, before adding a few spins. Mooncalves were often responsible for something Muggles had given a funny name to – crop circles. They were only half-right, since strange creatures did indeed make them but they were very much from Earth. Poor Muggles – Aidan couldn’t even imagine living such a pointless life without magic, but they just didn’t know any better. He caught sight of Brígh and his smile curved into something more mischievous. “Sometimes together too!” Aidan caught her hands and pulled her into his makeshift dance, spinning her around a few times before he was too breathless with laughter to continue.

But okay, now he was sure she knew what she was doing to him, giving him all those nice compliments while they were picking cloves. He had already noticed she was a very pretty girl, from the moment she’d first stumbled into the garden. But there was something almost dangerous about the way she smirked at him now, and Aidan felt himself flush until his face was the same color as his hair while his heart did somersaults. He buried himself in the clove tree to avoid looking at Brígh, because there was really no reason somebody should have the power to do that to him. “Happy to meet you too,” he mumbled into the branches, although he couldn’t hide either his smile or his flush of pleasure at her words.

“Moisturize,” Aidan repeated slowly, trying to copy the way she had said it. The word felt weird and heavy in his mouth, but if he had learned how to say Hogwarts then he could learn moisturize too. “I hear many things about my English. Not remarkable,” Aidan said with a badly stifled laugh. His parents had never pushed him to learn English too well, but that wasn’t an excuse because his younger sister’s English was nearly perfect. Then again, she looked for any reason possible to leave the island, so it wasn’t really a fair comparison (in his very unbiased opinion). He stopped picking cloves at Brígh’s final words. “You confusing to me, Brígh. You look like druid, but you talk like mainlander.” He shot her an amused look. It was an odd thing to think, that a kneazle might be scared of him. He knew it was something non-druids had to think about when it came to building trust with magical creatures – but that knowledge was new for him. He hadn’t even realized until first starting at the nature reserve when the veterinarians had sent him to heal a dragon’s broken leg because nobody else could get close. But he didn’t want to offend her, so he nodded enthusiastically and said, “I like lavender! Kneazles will too. Show me where?” He closed his satchel and stepped away from the clove tree to scan the rows of herbs for lavender. It was her idea, so he wanted her to have the excitement of finding it. Aidan also wasn’t sure she would want to stick around while he had to actually wrangle the kneazles, so he was hoping to drag out the fun garden part of his assignment for as long as possible.

BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH

[BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH]

Aidan hesitated for only a moment before launching into his own rendition of a mooncalf dance. Brígh erupted into peals of delighted laughter, half wishing Cheese were here to capture the moment on film. There was something so purely innocent about the way that Aidan bounced with glee, but she also wanted to keep this moment firmly between the two of them. Like a secret, but just a moment frozen in time to admire whenever. She had no qualms when Aidan grabbed her hands and spun around with her, their movements arcing into a somewhat ungraceful dance. Brígh could see the joy of working with mooncalves, and the easy poise with which he danced.

Breathless, delighted, Brígh squeezed Aidan's hands before letting go. "If only we could be mooncalves, just for one day," sang Brígh, incredibly off key. She fixed Aidan with a playful, almost feline smile and he busied himself with the cloves. She watched him for a moment, appreciating his dexterity and deep knowledge to know exactly what would work when with herbs. It was likely a useful trait. She imagined herself getting poisoned on berries she'd mistaken for something edible in the future. With a grimace, she spoke. "Will you teach me how to recognise herbs and plants and berries? I don't know anything. I'm going to end up getting myself killed," she said. Brígh had mused aloud how pleased she was to have met Aidan. An excellent turn of events, considering Eli was nowhere to be found. But Brígh didn't mind. She liked picking through the herbs, watching Aidan's sleek form deftly decide where they would venture next.

For a moment, she paused, watching Aidan carefully. His cheeks were flushed, whether from the cold air or the kind words she imparted on him. Brígh tilted her head thoughtfully, wondering what chain of events exactly had brought them together. He spoke of creating a balm for kneazles, having them moisturised and smelling lovely. She nodded encouragingly at Aidan's pronunciation of moisturise, beaming at his quick uptake. "Well, whoever says it is not remarkable is simply wrong," said Brígh flippantly. Aidan paused and fixed her with a stare. Brígh swallowed, immediately entranced by the intensity of his gaze. When she managed to speak, it was in a hushed tone. "I'm Irish. I don't think I qualify as either." And with that, the spell was broke, and she laughed again.

Aidan directed Brígh to find the lavender, and she balked. She knew that it was a summertime herb, but suspected the magic of the MWRC allowed these herbs to grow at any time. "Er..." she started, peering around for any hint of purple. She thought she spotted a cluster, and taking Aidan's hand, she led him over to the spiky looking bushes. "I'm not going to lie, I am truly no expert." Brígh bent down to investigate the hint of purple, inhaling deeply. Thankfully, the scent of lavender danced about the bush, deeming her investigation fruitful. "This is possibly the proudest moment of my life!"

Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn

[Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn]

Aidan could feel her watching him as he picked the last of the cloves. Suddenly he found himself questioning everything. Did he look too scruffy? He never took care of his appearance -- his shirt still showed patches of soap from the last round of baths, not to mention the dirt under his fingernails. Was he moving awkwardly? He couldn’t remember if this was how he always moved, or what exactly he did with his hands when they weren’t busy. It was easier to avoid eye contact, because he could tell by the sound of her voice that she still looked as playful and mischievous as before and his heart might give out first. Aidan could feel the blush creeping down his neck as he finally worked up the courage to look at Brígh again.

“Yes!” Aidan blurted out enthusiastically as Brígh asked about learning to recognize herbs. He laughed at himself slightly, before nodding eagerly. “It good skill to know. All druids learn. But not classes like Hogwarts,” he began to explain. He still hadn’t quite mastered the name of the school, but he’d visited to take his OWLs and NEWTs, and he’d been living a stone’s throw away for two years now. So it came out much more fluidly than many of the odder words in the English language. “Not inside, I mean. We learn in Wildwood.” It was better that way, Aidan was sure. Druid classes took place in the midst of nature, where they could observe the lessons at play instead of just reading about them in books. Learning how to recognize herbs and magical creatures, or seeing druid adults use the healing or creation spells in their everyday life. Many mainlanders went their whole lives without thinking about the druids, but the few who were curious and visited Hy-Brasil to learn…well, their lives undoubtedly became much better.

And he felt a flicker of warmth inside his chest that Brígh seemed to have that curiosity. He might be pushing his luck, but Aidan decided to try anyway. “It take time to learn. Probably many lessons.” He was satisfied with that attempt as he shot her a smile. And as he watched Brígh laugh at her observation that she wasn’t really either druid or mainlander, her laughter became contagious and he couldn’t help but laugh too. He didn’t quite understand – he’d never really thought of non-druids as anything but one big group, separate from his community – but he assumed that she knew what she was talking about. Brígh seemed to have many thoughts about the world, and she definitely knew better than him about most of them. He followed her dutifully as she began to search for the lavender bushes, twining his fingers with hers absentmindedly at the familiar gesture. She pulled him to a stop in front of a bush, and he beamed at her excitedly and squeezed her hand before releasing it. “You find it! You smarter than you think. Very good!”

As he watched her bend down to examine the bush, fiery red hair falling in a cascade over her shoulder, Aidan’s heart began to do that odd thing again of feeling like it was being squeezed slowly. In order to spare himself the deep thought of examining what that meant, Aidan also turned to examine the lavender. “Hmmm,” he hummed out-loud as he took in the flowers. “This stem not quite right. Flowers not open yet, see?” Aidan gently ran his fingers through some of the lavender buds, examining how they were still tightly closed and hadn’t begun to bloom yet. It might work if he simply wanted to dry the lavender, but not to harvest the oil for a salve. He moved to another stem and made a noise of approval. “Look. Some flowers open, some closed. More oil this way. My ma, she always say find a stem in half bloom.” And she obviously knew best, no questions asked. Like with the roses, he didn’t want to cut the entire stem of lavender and stunt its growth. So he allowed his magic to slowly coil around his fingertips as he began to gently cut through smaller bunches of buds.

BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH

[BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH]

Aidan stiffened ever so slightly, only visible to Brígh as she was watching him so closely. He resumed his clove plucking, the line of his shoulders slightly adjusted. The back of Aidan's neck turned red, and Brígh wondered if he was sensitive to sunlight as she was. Not that it stopped her in any way - she just had to be a wee bit more careful about sun cream. Idly, Brígh asked Aidan if he would teach her about herbs and berries and foraging for herself. It would likely be a useful trick to have up her sleeve whilst on missions for Gringotts. He responded with delight, and she nodded her approval.

Aidan explained how the druids learned, and it sounded much more appealing to Brígh than reading out of books. "That sounds way better than reading out of books. But one of my best mates, her name is Addy, well she would disagree. She actually likes reading. Sometimes she reads her textbooks for fun," said Brígh, adding a disgusted shudder for effect. She was much more of a trial and error type of learner. She did enjoy reading sometimes, but they had to be stories. A distinct start, middle and end. Something that could sweep her mind in a whirl of adventure, something she could imagine herself doing if only she got the opportunity. Simply reading out of textbooks held no interest for Brígh, no matter how informative. She would rather get Addy to tell her things and correct her homework, not out of laziness but simply because she had better things to put her time and energy into.

"Well, it will take lots of lessons for me to get to an acceptable level of herb knowledge. Considering you've probably been learning your whole life, it will take me at least ten years! Probably more! So I hope you're prepared for the long haul," said Brígh, grinning like a maniac. Their fingers twined together and a rush of feeling soared through her. She hadn't felt this sort of warmth and electricity in a long while. She stuffed it down, and led the way, peering around for lavender bushes. Finally, she tracked a thicket down and exclaimed her pride at actually managing it. Brígh crouched down, pushing back the tendrils of red hair that marred her vision, and inspected the tiny buds. "Mmmm, smells nice," said Brígh softly.

Brígh tried her best to listen closely to what Aidan was explaining to her, but she was distracted by the sensuous way his lips formed around the words. She chewed on her lower lip, her gaze flickering up to meet Aidan's. She realised he was expecting a response and she flushed vibrantly red. "Oh, er, yes ok," she agreed, without quite knowing what she had agreed to. She watched his long, elegant fingers bend around the buds. She realised she was watching a bit too intensely when her thoughts flickered to other places that she'd like those long, elegant fingers to be. Taking a deep breath, Brígh copied Aidan, trying to find buds similar to the ones he was picking. Since she hadn't listened, she wasn't sure if she was doing it entirely right. But this was about learning, right? "Your mam sounds like a very clever lady. You're lucky. Do you get to see her much?" asked Brígh.

Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn

[Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn]

Learning from books? Yeah, Aidan had heard about that. The druids tended to lean more towards experiential learning and oral knowledge rather than studying written texts. Education for druid children started at home, watching their parents work in the family profession and learning by doing. That didn’t change much once they went to school. There was slightly more structure – proper teachers and loose-knit classes that occasionally consulted a textbook. But those books came more into play only when the students had to prepare for OWLs and NEWTs, since they had to take the same exams as the mainlander schools. Otherwise they were taught to observe and learn from their elders. That was the best way of keeping the ancient knowledge alive.

“Books teach things too,” Aidan replied deferentially, not wanting to tell Brígh outright that Hogwarts’s curriculum sounded crazy to him. He was sure her friend Addy was very smart – she probably knew more about the world than most druids he had met. But that didn’t necessarily equate to knowing about the right things. “But very easy to get distracted. Druid way better. It impossible for one person to know all things. But many people, over many generations, they learn much. And then we remember.” His sentences were choppy, the thoughts not quite connected because Aidan wasn’t sure how to surpass the language barrier. He found himself wishing Brígh knew at least some Brasilic. She had so many bright and curious ideas, but she must think he was so stupid!

Still, if she did think that, there was no sign of it as she grinned widely at him and assured him her education in herbs might take years. Ten seemed like a random number, and Aidan looked at her curiously. It must have some significance in Great Britain that he wasn’t aware of, but he accepted it anyway. “Okay, ten years,” he agreed, matching her smile. “But I not so good teacher. Not so good student either!” He’d had something of a reputation back on the island for often cutting class to go visit the Merfolk or wander around the island. He must have exasperated his teachers to no end. He had been rifling through the lavender stems as he spoke, almost speaking to the flowers instead of to Brígh. She was making him wonder about things he had never given a second thought to, and the redness in his cheeks seemed unable to disappear. But the lavender was the same as it always was, so Aidan focused his attention on that.

There was some silence from Brígh when he’d been expecting agreement, so when she finally spoke he straightened to look her over. She seemed distracted, and her voice sounded faraway like she’d been thinking about something else. Oh no, was he boring her with all this talk about flowers and druids? Or maybe she was uncomfortable – maybe she had slept badly, or she was hungry and needed a snack. Aidan didn’t want to seem presumptuous by asking, and he was a little lost on what constituted proper social customs here. On Hy-Brasil, he would have just asked – but druids seemed to be more direct than mainlanders, and he had accidentally offended quite a few people around Hogsmeade. The confusing encounters kept him silent whenever he found a similarly confusing situation.

“Very lucky,” he agreed completely when Brígh mentioned it. He shrugged when she asked if he saw his ma often. “Not so much. Most druids not leave the island if possible. I wish I visit more.” Aidan dropped his gaze to watch Brígh pick through the lavender stems, although something about the way her fingers were searching suggested they were lost. “Better to cut stem than pick flower,” he suggested cheerfully. She appeared not to be using magic, which was a curious choice since it was much easier to just use a cutting charm. Aidan shifted so he was standing closer to her and lightly placed his hand over hers. She had chosen a particularly fine looking stalk, and he guided her fingers higher up the plant before directing the magic through his fingertips to cut the stem. He didn’t move away, although the realization hit him quickly as he looked down at her. “Ah, you learn with wand at school, yes? You want it now?”

BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH

[BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH]

Aidan made a feeble attempt to not completely write off the uselessness of learning from books. Brígh only laughed, and shrugged her shoulders. Perhaps she was a druid in a past life. Her learning style certainly leaned into that, if not her vibrant red hair. She peeked at Aidan through the curtain of her hair, wondering what was going through that head of his. He qualified the fact that learning out of books wasn't all bad with the observation that the druid way was better. She chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I agree with you there, Aidan," she said with a smirk.

As Aidan explained how stories and knowledge passed through generations was the best way to amass learning, Brígh found herself slightly distracted by the movement of his lips, the way he so succinctly formed words even without a full grasp of the language. It was a far cry for the way she struggled to speak Irish, though she had learned for years. He spoke with confidence, even if her didn't really have the same depth of knowledge as she. She blinked, switching her focus to his gaze, offering a sheepish smile. "I suppose writing that down would make it similar to text books," Brígh replied thoughtfully. "Though I would prefer to know the people first hand, rather than reading into Arsenius Jigger's potions book, for example. Who in Merlin's name is Arsenius Jigger?" she mused.

Brígh blindly threw out the time frame of needing ten years to learn everything about plants and herbs and the like. In reality, she didn't mind how long it took. She enjoyed learning with Aidan, his easy kindness a refreshing change from the cutthroat nature of school. "Well, I'd argue you are an excellent teacher. I never knew about these salves or how to identify what blooms are most likely to give the most oil," she responded. "I will try very hard to be a good student, but my reputation precedes me. I've spent more time in detention than out of it," she added with a frown. Perhaps learning a different way would encourage her to behave better. Brígh snorted. That was doubtful.

As the pair plucked stalks and buds of lavender, Brígh found her attention wandering once more. A gust of wind loosened a flurry of leaves, which she suspected had barely clung on to the branches above them. One landed on Aidan's mussed red hair, earning a giggle from Brígh. It was shaped somewhat like a crown and stuck up amongst the vibrant strands. "You're got a leaf in your hair," said Brígh, reaching out to pluck the offending leaf. She lingered, noting the closeness she'd created as she leaned forward. Her eyes met Aidan's then flickered down to his lips. She was overcome by the sudden urge to close that distance, to know the way that his lips would mould to hers. Her lips parted, considering that enticing idea.

Blinking, reality rushed over Brígh. She closed her mouth, leaning back, her cheeks flushed. They were both silent for a beat, before Brígh intoned that Aidan was quite lucky to have a clever mum. She mastered the confusing swirling of feelings within her, even as Aidan lightly placed his hand over hers as she plucked a particularly robust stalk of lavender. Her breath hitched, and any coy words that she could have managed died in her throat. Even as Aidan directed the magic through his fingers that released the stalk from its fellows, into her waiting fingers, Brígh was silent. It was probably the longest conscious moment she'd gone without speaking. Aidan asked if she wanted to use her wand. She shook her head, not releasing Aidan from her gaze. "No... this is preferable..." she managed, her voice low.

Brígh forced herself to break the spell under which Aidan had placed her. "You seem to know just what to do with your fingers," said Brígh, taking note of his closeness once again. How drawn to each other they had seemed. It was strange to think she had come here searching for Eli but had found someone as wonderful as Aidan. "How many do you think we will need to have enough oil?" asked Brígh, breaking eye contact and glancing over at the remaining lavender.

Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn

[Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn]

Aidan stared at Brígh blankly at the unfamiliar words. Arsenius Jigger. He had never heard either of those words before, and certainly not used together. She had spoken very quickly, so he wasn’t quite sure how it fit into their conversation, but he supposed Arsenius Jigger must be a person because he certainly recognized the word ‘who.’ But what an odd name! “I not know,” Aidan said thoughtfully as he chewed his lip. If this was indeed a person, they must be a wizard from the mainland. It was the only explanation because he wasn't a druid, and why on earth would they be talking about a non-magical being? But his face lit up as Brígh assured him he was a good teacher. “You learn something?” he asked eagerly, studying her freckled face closely. Her eyes were soft, although the frown that followed her later thought didn’t look as nice as her earlier smiles. Aidan wanted to bring those smiles back.

They’d only met that day, but Aidan was sure that Brígh didn’t have a complete image of herself. She was kind and quick to help people, and there was something about her eyes and her demeanor that could just draw a person in. So Aidan didn’t believe for one second that she wouldn’t be anything but the perfect student. “I go home for Yule soon,” Aidan began haltingly, “but after…I visit many creatures to check all okay with them. Make the rounds.” He had heard the veterinarians use that term often to check on all the creatures after a lengthy time away. Their duties were two-fold, after all – to respond to healing emergencies, but also to conduct preemptive check-ups and ideally catch any problems early before they really began to bother the creatures. He had received a druid education, which meant he naturally knew more than the average wizard about herbs and magical plants…but his true passion was in creatures. And he would much rather introduce Brígh to the magic of that world. “Maybe…I write you when I go.”

He might have expanded on that thought more, but the sudden flurry of leaves distracted him from continuing. He laughed slightly as Brígh pointed out that one had gotten caught in his hair. “No surprise. I always find…” But Aidan forgot what he always found when he turned slightly and his breath caught at how close he and Brígh had gotten. He couldn’t be exactly sure when the distance between them had disappeared (especially because he was a physically affectionate person by nature). But she was close, and her hand was in his hair, and Aidan couldn’t think about anything else. In the December chill, he could feel the warmth radiating from her body, and at this distance he could count every freckle on her face if he wanted. His eyes widened slightly at the proximity, and his heart stopped as he watched her gaze drop. He couldn’t help but do the same, and he felt his blood burn at the sight of her parted lips. He’d never kissed a girl before. Never been in a position where it would be possible if he only leaned forward the slightest bit to close the distance. His heart pounded at the thought, and he was almost grateful as Brígh leaned back slightly and broke the spell. He exhaled slightly, shaken at how tempted he’d been at the thought. She wasn’t a druid. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

That was a sobering thought and Aidan forced himself to create a little distance. It was unnatural for him to force himself away from someone else, but it was the only thing he could do in the moment. She made a sudden comment about his fingers, and Aidan’s gaze drifted down to the newly-cut stem of lavender. “I-I do this many times at my family farm,” he stammered out, blushing in spite of himself. He quickly withdrew, stowing the lavender in his bag with all the other herbs. It barely fit and Aidan found himself disappointed at the observation that he really was almost done picking herbs. “I…almost done,” he said, “I should make salve and go find kneazles.” He felt jittery, more so than usual anyway. He hadn’t expected to find someone like Brígh today. Or to ever be tempted by a mainlander like he had been today. The thought was so opposite to what he’d grown up with that he was shaken that it was even possible. But he also didn’t want to say goodbye to Brígh. He found himself caught between the two impulses without any idea what he should do next.

BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH

[BRÍGH ENNIS O'DALAIGH]

Aidan stared back at Brígh blankly, and she wondered what on Earth she had said that would warrant such a response. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she briefly mulled it over. Aidan brightened when she pointed out that he was in fact an excellent teacher. "Of course!" said Brígh, plucking a particularly good looking stalk of lavender. "I would have never known what makes the most oil. I will keep on the lookout and perhaps make a balm of my own creation to send to you," she added with a grin. "Er... on second thought, that concoction would likely be poisonous. Best to leave that to the experts like you, hey?" she decided, nudging Aidan playfully as she did so.

Brígh practically glowed with excitement at the prospect of Aidan writing to her over Yule, which she assumed was Christmas. "Please, yes! We can discuss lots of things - I will be back in Ireland for the holiday, but my friend Cheese takes lots of pictures so I'm sure I can get him to send me some to forward onto you. Then you can see some of the less magical plants, but they're still fun!" Brígh said quickly, already imagining what a delightful exchange they would have. A flurry of leaves silenced any response Aidan might have had, a particularly large dead leave landing on his mop of untidy red hair. Laughing, Brígh plucked the crown like leaf, leaning closer so that she could reach. Brígh paused, her gaze meeting Aidan's as she realised just how close they were. Just mere centimetres separated his lips from her own. If she just shifted forward slightly...

Blinking, Brígh leaned back, trying to clear her head. Aidan withdrew, flushing red as they created space between them. He stowed the lavender and Brígh wondered if she had imagined something crackling between them. She nodded, glancing down at her watch and taking note of the time. She had nowhere to be, but it was fairly obvious she had pushed the boundaries and made Aidan uncomfortable. After all, they'd just met that day. "Yes, you should go do that," she breathed, straightening. She combed her fingers through her hair, feeling flustered. Brígh hitched a smile onto her face, tightening the fastening of her cloak. "Well Aidan, it was truly a pleasure to meet you. Hopefully the kneazles will smell like roses and the mooncalves won't give you trouble. Give Eli my best too, please," said Brígh. On a whim, Brígh rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Aidan's cheek. "See you," she said with a half smile, before turning and walking away, disappearing in a swish of a cloak just past the gate.

END BRIGH
Aidan Evander Ó Cuinn FYI