Hogwarts MOO

The Black Sheep

The Hall of Fools can get crowded this early in the year, as new students inevitably make wrong turns into the dead end corridor. However, Sylvie Winters, standing down at the end of the hall with her arms wrapped around herself, wand dangling awkwardly from one hand, and staring at one of the portraits, does not seem to be worried about finding her way back. There is a satchel with a couple books stacked next to it in the far corner, all old enough to match the robe she wears. Sylvie pays little attention to any others that wander in and out of the area, more focused on the decorations and her own thoughts.

Loping into the hallway it would seem that at least one person is here on purpose and the fifth year boy is self-assured and smiles easily to a few of the students who are wandering out in confusion. Osric is a small youth topping out at maybe five foot seven at the tallest and he's wiry thin. Lively green eyes, much like his father's, take in his surroundings. His own clothing is rather humble in nature; his robes far too short and ill used as are the hose he wears beneath. Ratty leather shoes don his feet, but they are solid enough that they aren't falling apart. He's making his way directly to the tapestry, but when he realizes that the student there isn't moving or making to leave, he merely watches for a few seconds before he makes up his mind to act. "Hello there." Confidently addressing the younger student he smiles easily as he looks her over before tucking one hand under his chin. "That's not a very appealing tapestry, is it?"

Sylvie Winters turns her head at the sound of Osric's voice, and looks him over quickly before replying. "No, not very. Those're not nice looking.. things, even without them dancing." Her first words quickly give away an accent from the poorer side of muggle England. Now that she's speaking to Osric, she turns partially to face him, head turned also to make up for the distance the rest of her did not cover. She drops her arms, so having done so, has no clue what to do with the wand in her right hand, and fidgets with it while she stands.

"Trolls." Making a face Osric shakes his head as he continues, "They're not friendly and rather brutish." Running his right hand through his hair Osric meets Sylvie's gaze and then looks again to the tapestry before deciding to pay more attention to the girl. His own accent is studied English, he speaks with the clear enunciation of the upper levels of society but for all of that he cannot fully rid himself of the traces of Welsh that haunt his speech pattern. Deciding to finally introduce himself he offers his left hand, "Osric Rathe. I'm a Hufflepuff and you can tuck your wand away if you want. No one here is going to hurt you. At least, they /shouldn't/."

"Sylvie Winters," the girl answers, taking his left hand with hers for a moment before withdrawing. "I'm Slytherin." Not yet in the habit of keeping her wand in her robes, Sylvie fiddles with it a moment longer at his suggestion, then takes a step backwards, motioning with her head to the bag and books - one charms, the other history - she's left sitting. "Let me just put it away."

"Huh. Slytherin." It's a statement of something but his tone doesn't have an edge against the girl personally. "Sorry. It's very nice to make your acquaintance." Osric winces as he internally reprimands himself and then notices the bags. "You take your bags everywhere?" He has no books or bags present but then he sighs and presses the palm of one hand against his forehead. "Sorry, I'm not the world's best example as far as being a perfect student goes." Grinning openly he waits for Sylvie to put her wand away, but now he's paying closer attention more specifically to what books she has nearby. "First year? How are you liking it here?"

Sylvie Winters takes one more step backwards, then actually turns and quickly walks the remaining few steps to the bag. After slipping her wand inside she returns, standing a bit more comfortably now that she's not wondering what to do with a piece of wood. "Sorry?" she inquires, though she's quick to add, with a smile, "Nice to make yours, also. And no, not everywhere... I was studying, some, earlier. It's very nice here, but.." "there's so much to learn."

Brushing aside his first comment without even so much as a gesture Osric's smile lingers even as he looks again at the tapestry before sighing softly. Paying mind to Sylvie again he nods. "You like it here then? It gets a little better later in the year when less people get confused and wander in and out." "There are better places to study but they're not something you'll just find." Another glance is tossed at the tapestry and he runs his hand through his hair again almost nervously. "How are you finding Slytherin?"

Sylvie Winters also glances once more to the tapestry at her side. "In here?" She starts to bite at her lip, then stops, setting her mouth firmly closed while she decides how to answer. "I like to watch the people. In the paintings, I mean." That seems safe enough, and turning her gaze back to Osric, she looks up at the older student. "This castle's so huge, I guess it'll take a while to find everything, won't it? How long have you been here?" .. "Slytherin?" That again takes some consideration. "It's my house."

The smile lingers and then fades away as he looks at his own tatty shoes before shrugging. "This is my fifth year, but it's not so bad really. Free education, a roof over my head and food in my stomach isn't such a bad deal. If we do well we'll get good careers and /that/ is appealing." The smile easily flits back to Osric's face and it quickly turns to a grin. "You'll find friends in Slytherin I'm sure. It's not a bad sort of House, but I just wasn't ambitious enough to get in." Nodding at the tapestry, he uses that in partial indication for an answer and then adds, "Yes, in here." "You've just got to pay attention."

"You don't like it? I haven't given /any/ thought to what career I'd take." With Osric's nod to the tapestry, Sylvie turns to stare at it again, gaze moving slowly over each area as though she might find some secret clue. She continues this activity carefully even while continuing to talk. "That's what the hat," pause, to glance quickly at Osric with a slight smile of wonder before resuming her search, "/said/. That I'm ambitious. I met someone before I came, and she went into Hufflepuff."

"I knew about the hat and what Slytherin was before I got here so I had *some* advantage." Osric wanders closer to Sylvie but is clearly interested in the tapestry. Touching it reveals nothing but he does touch it and boldly before turning away. "There's no magic to finding it, but maybe I'll share it with you later. I can't right now or I might catch hell with some of my friends for showing it to a first year." Rolling his eyes the youth shrugs, "it's not a hard secret to find out and you'll probably find it out on your own." "Hufflepuff is a fine house, but there are prejudices against it just like there is for every House. Don't you believe it for a minute that Hufflepuffs are lazy and stupid or that Slytherin have to be nasty people." "Stereotypes make a boring world, don't you agree?" The cheeky smile returns to reflect in his eyes.

Sylvie Winters stares for a few seconds at the spot Osric touched, then, seeing nothing unusual - beyond the normal unusual - gives up the search. "There's nothing wrong with Slytherin," she protests, looking at him again, then turning her back to the tapestry to glance over the other items in the hall. As she does so, a strand of hair falls in her face, and she raises a hand to tuck it back behind her ear. "And Anastasia wasn't lazy or stupid. I do agree," a bit of quiet ferocity comes into her voice, "stereotypes are horrible."

The smile spreads wider, touching the edges of his eyes as Osric looks to Sylvie. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with Slytherin and don't let anyone try to tell you otherwise." "I have a few friends in your House. People are people and some are good and some aren't. Some are nice and some aren't. It doesn't depend on House no matter /what/ some poorly informed people might think." Nodding sharply the boy look at the tapestry again, "When you get nervous and it's quiet here just come and pace. You'll be sure to find what you're looking for." He's noted the quiet ferocity but he made no mention of it until now, creeping down he soon finds himself cross-legged on the floor. "Someone say something about you or Slytherin? You let me know and I'll get my mates. We'll set them straight."

Sylvie Winters nods twice, committing the words to memory, however puzzled she may look at the suggestion. What she actually answers, however, is his final comment. "No- no one's said anything about me," she pauses, and her eyes flick down toward her very used robes, though otherwise she's still, "or Slytherin." But his kinds words get the better of her, and giving the lie to what she's just stated, she nearly whispers, "What's a muggle?" Even once he's sitting, particularly after asking a question like that, Sylvie remains firmly on her feet for whatever upper-hand that positioning may give her.

Watching silently the fifth year keeps a close eye on the girl but he says nothing until she's done. Stretching his arms behind him he places his palms firmly on the floor and leans back before responding. "Muggles are people but they don't have magic. They don't even know about magic unless someone in their family winds up having magic, but that's nothing to be ashamed of." Osric's smile hovers but it doesn't entirely fade even if his face takes on a more serious expression. "And there's no reason in being ashamed of being less wealthy than others." Waggling his worn leather boot-like shoes he grins, "Money comes and goes, but the way we view and treat others is much more important."

"I've heard," Sylvie begins, voice becoming more steady and confident again, "that muggles shouldn't be in Slytherin." As she finishes she looks straight at Osric. "But I'm going to be a better student than any of them. And a better witch." The word is still an odd way to refer to herself, and she falters a little when she comes to it. Finally she does consent to sit, lowering herself to the floor carefully, wrapping her legs under her and smoothing her clothes once she gets there. "Did you know about magic before you came?"

"Salazar was an ass when it came to blood purity, but his House doesn't discriminate - or at least the hat doesn't and /that's/ what's important." Raising an eyebrow Osric smirks before it creeps into a full smile, "You *are* a witch regardless of birth and probably better than more than half of them just because of your attitude. Your family are muggles if they lack magic and weren't aware of our society." Laughing delightedly the boy leans forward, his green eyes glint with absolute amusement. "Oh yes. My family is an old and wealthy pureblood family." For his laughter his body language doesn't suggest he' having a joke at the girl's expense but is taking delight in something else. "Rathe are very distinguished don't you know and blahblahblah." "Wouldn't know it looking at me these days I guess."

The smile Sylvie returns for Osric's laughter comes much more easily now, even if it is a puzzled smile. Her lips part to ask the question hanging in her mind, but she can't find a way to phrase it nicely, and closes her mouth again after what seems to her an uncomfortable pause. "Can anyone learn magic? Could my siblings? They're.. muggles. And I'm not." It's half question, half statement; and then the best means for her earlier question hits her. "You're not proud to be from a noble family?"

The laughter doesn't die immediately but it does drift off naturally and the boy's smile dips away a little at Sylvie's question. Shaking his head, Osric leans backward again using his arms to brace himself as before. "I'm afraid that if they don't have the ability you can't teach them. You know there are people born to wizards and witches who can't do magic. They're called squibs and they can't learn magic either." Making a face at the question the Hufflepuff boy breaks eye contact and looks away, "I used to be, but I didn't realize what an ass I was as a first year. I cried for weeks when I became Hufflepuff and then I got over it because it was beyond my control. All I could do was change myself, but I can't change my family."

Sylvie Winters shifts positions, attempting to find a more comfortable spot against the stone floor. "They weren't happy?" This question, again, is quiet, and quickly followed with, "It's okay, Father wasn't happy with me being a witch, either. But I wanted to come. Mother and my siblings didn't mind so much." Having finally found something comfortable, mainly by sitting on the lower portion of her robe, Sylvie stops moving and folds her hands in her lap. "How come people do or don't have it? Do squibs," she says the unfamiliar word slowly, trying it out, "go to regular schools, like I came here?"

The laugh is a little harder but mostly Osric seems to be unbothered by the first question. "I don't know if mother was unhappy but father outright disowned me. Hench my impoverished state but I think I'm happier now than I was trying to be everything he wanted. I *did* try, but it wasn't good enough." Shrugging his shoulders the boy picks at the next bit of Sylvie's questions, "I don't know why some people don't have it and others do. It seems mostly random except among wizards. Squibs are very rare, but I know that with my family my Uncle was a squib due to a curse. I'm the firstborn male in ten generations to be born a wizard. Peter wasn't so lucky and I feel badly for him." "Some of them are lucky enough to go to muggle schools, but I know some families when they find out their children are squibs they disown them and make them as servants. Others raise squibs to be trophy spouses because all kids born from squibs turn out to be wizards. Mostly, they just live on the frin
ges of magical society or do what my Uncle did and go live with muggles." Smiling a little he sits back up, "Don't worry about your father. If he hasn't thrown you out he's a better man than mine and he'll come around eventually."

"Oh, he did," Sylvie says, rather matter-of-fact-ly, then repeats her earlier statement. "I wanted to come. I wouldn't /have/ to try, to be everything Father wanted of /me/." Her cheeks turn a light shade of red, and Sylvie hurriedly moves on to a different topic, the coverup half smile and words coming just a tad too fast. "So when squibs marry muggles, their children have magic. But if you can curse away magic, couldn't you give it to someone too? And can you undo a curse?"

"I don't know. Maybe? I know the curse was *really* powerful and it didn't affect everyone in the family just the firstborn males. Maybe it only was to go for so long before it ended? I can't really ask my father now else I would." Osric muddles over the questions "I know curses can be undone, at least some of them, but I'd suppose that the more powerful the curse is the harder it would be to undo." "And it's not like a person can curse another person with magic to lose /their/ magic. I'm not even sure if the "family curse" is real or just a myth." "But no, you can't give magic to anyone - not the way you mean. You could give a muggle or a squib charms and potions, but they can't gain magic on their own." Starting to stand up he shakes down the robe that doesn't cover as far as it should, "I really ought to go soon, but I'm glad I met you. If you want to talk again, I'm sure you can find me around here." Then, adding with another smile, "Remember if anyone here gives you diff
iculty over /anything/ you come get me and my mates and we'll help you out."

Sylvie Winters puts her hands on the floor, pushing down to aid her rise to a standing position along with her new companion. "Thank you for answering so many questions," she tells him once she's up, smiling back. "And.. for that offer. I'm glad I met you, too." She pauses, so as not to turn too quickly; but a bit of that smile remains when she finally does turn around, taking her own leave back to the corner to retrieve her belongings and the bag they go in, and find another, quieter place to think over what she's learned.