Hogwarts MOO

Little Brothers on Loan and Belly Beasts

Autumn, the leaves have mostly fallen from the trees and the air is crisp and nice. Not terribly cold but not at all warm. Tommy Darian sits this fine autumn morning in the great hall just as breakfast is starting. As usual the young man has his hair primped just right and he is dressed in his finest school robes. "Sally do please pass the jam would you?" He asks a Slytherin girl across the table from him who does so, politely. "I find jam on a biscuit in the morning keeps the stomach from growling too badly during the morning classes." he says lightly buttering some jam over a biscuit.

"Have you found anything to make the stomach growl more?" James Geroff calls from down the table, leaning over some poor second year boy's head to grab a piece of fruit. The second year gives him an annoyed look, but James does not move from where he's standing behind the line of seats. His hair is still a bit mussy and he's got the look of one who only recently made himself wake up. Now and then, his eyes scan both the Ravenclaw table and those entering the room, searching for Brandon. Every now and then one has to bother one's brother in the morning.

"You want beast belly candies." Tommy says this with a grin to the younger boy. "You eat one and it makes your stomach growl for about an hour. They taste pretty good but they are awfully annoying after a while." Tommy begins eating the biscuit and looks the Ravenclaw boy over. "Why are you leaning over that other boy? Is he a friend of yours?" Tommy doesn't really seem to care but it looks as though he's got some interest in Brandon since the boy spoke out to him.

James pats the second year on the head, ignoring another glare to move further down the table, rather than shouting across. "Nah," the sixth year murmurs around a mouthful, "Barely know 'im. I was just thinking it might be interesting eating a few of those before class. Professors couldn't really get you in trouble for being /hungry/, could they?" James takes another bite, then turns to survey the hallway once more; it is at this point that Brandon enters, looking rather more put-together this morning this morning than his brother is. James waves a hand filled with apple wildy. "'Ey, Brandon!"

"I don't suppose they could...." Tommy stops to think of how funny it'd be to interupt class with a beast belly candy. "But if they knew you ate the candy then they might too." Tommy looks from James on to Brandon when he waves to the boy. "Is that your brother? I've never had any brothrs or sisters. What's that like?" Tommy smiles looking to James.

"They'd never need to know, would then?" James grins. "Yeah, he's mine- Brandon, come meet my friend! - I've got loads of 'em. Awful fun to mess with. You should find yourself one, try it sometime. You can always borrow mine." Brandon, at his brother's second shout, rolls his eyes from across the room and changes direction to head for the Slytherin table.

"I don't suppose they would. But they might catch on if every student were using them." Tommy smiles a little more as Brandon comes over. "Isn't he cute!" The seventh year's voice gets a little high on the word cute and he giggles softly. "Hello Brandon." He says with a smile getting the boys name from James. He slides over to make room for the younger boy at the table.

Brandon Geroff walks up with a vaguely wary look on his face, scanning the table until Tommy greets him. That, then, must be this 'friend'. "Good morning," he says, first to Tommy and then to James - the greeting to the latter followed by, "You'll get a stomach ache if you don't sit down to eat." James doesn't answer the comment, just pushes his brother toward the cleared space at the table. "Sit down with us! My friend needs a volunteer." To Tommy he adds, "Undoubtably. Then again, if I could convince /every/ student in a class to eat them..." James chuckles at the idea. "We just have to hide the evidence."

"Now that'd be amusing!" Tommy laughs at the idea of a whole room full of growling stomachs. "Volunteer? Oh no that's okay. I don't mind sitting and chatting while I eat though." Tommy stuffs his biscuit in his face chomping away at it before washing it down with some pumpkin juice. After finishing the biscuit he begins pileing eggs onto his plate as well. "It's always lovely to have breakfast with new friends. Tell me Brandon. What year are you in?"

"I'm not volunteering for anything until I've had my toast," Brandon answers his brother, but at Tommy's response, Brandon does take the offered seat. "I'm a third year, in Ravenclaw. And you are? I'm afraid I didn't catch your name." Across from him, James finally takes a seat as one is vacated and both his companions are now sitting down. "Don't say I didn't offer. I bet I could get you in on it - should I order extra candies? It'd be hilarious if every sixth and seventh year class started that way - I'm sure I can hide the blame."

"My name is Tommy Darian and Im a seventh year." He informs Brandon with a small smile. "Toast is good. Here have some jam." He passes the jam to the younger boy offering it. He looks to James. "Well that'd be funny. Why not try it then. I don't think I'll do it though. Class pranks are so juvenile." Tommy begins quickly eating his eggs stopping now an then to drink more pumpkin juice.

Brandon Geroff selects a piece of toast for himself, and takes the offered jam. "Thank you." Following through on his earlier refusal, he falls silence, concentrating on spreading jam on his toast and selecting a few other items to consume with it. Across the table, James shakes his head at Tommy. "Again, don't say I didn't.. I'll have to speak to the sixth years. I bet they'll go along." If the pronouncement of pranks as juvenile has bothered him, he doesn't show it, though he too finally settles down to eat, finally working on the rest of his apple and finding a bit of ham to go with it. And, from his looks up and down the table, intent on spending the rest of breakfast plotting his new amusement.

Everyday Business

It is the end of another long day at the Ministry. Various staff move through the offices, finishing up what they've been working on, handing off paperwork for others to deal with tomorrow, and making their preparations to go home. Adding to the traffic is the charmed report box near the door to the Minister's office for auror reports, and a handful of other divisions that are now required to check in daily. The door next to this box has been closed, but now begins to open, as Sylvie Winters-Geroff, not quite ready to end her own day, sets off on some errand with a couple parchments in one arm.

Pulling on a warm fur coat over his black robes Louis Harper looks to be quite ready to end his day. His hair is tied back away from his face, usually a sign that he's been working quite hard. In his left hand there is a parchment with his reports for the day. As he makes his way over to the report box waiting behind several others. Noticing Sylvie, Louis greets her "Hello Minister. Long day isn't it?" "Then I suppose every day that sees Dark Wizards on the loose by the droves is a long day isn't it?" The auror gives a small sigh as he has his turn to slip his report into the box. "Got some leads on some today. Not sure if they are going to lead me the right way though."

Sylvie Winters-Geroff looks over those coming in and out of the hall as she emerges; everyone has plenty of reason to be careful these days. Nothing immediately attracts her interest, though as Louis speaks to her, she turns to offer a slight nod. "Good afternoon, Mr. Harper. Heading home?" The question is merely a polite one, no hint of criticism in her voice. She shuts the door behind her, and steps over toward him. "Leads? Excellent. We can/not/ let them remain loose." Sigh. "Of course, I know you are all working your hardest, and we'll have a few here off-hours too."

"I'll be heading home yes." Louis pulls his coat up a bit tighter and buttons it closed. "Yes I have a lead on where two may be hiding. I'll have to get some help tracking them of course but hopefully my efforts will prove fruitful." Louis looks to Sylvie and nods. "Well we've all been working very hard yourself included Minister." "I think everyone is pretty worried about what will happen the longer the escapees are allowed to run amuck."

"You /do/ have appropriate protections around your home by now?" Sylvie inquires, a topic that is of particular concern to her with her position and the number of children she has, both home and not. "I'm afraid too many in the Ministry are ignoring precautions still. If we can't protect ourselves, those outside the Ministry are going to lose confidence in our ability to protect them as well." She shifts the stack of parchments in her arms, then changes her mind, murmuring something quietly so that they end up floating just beside her while she talks. "I'll be able to read more about that in your report tonight, then?"

"Of course. I'm well aware of the danger posed to me as a member of the Ministry and an Auror." Louis moves away from the box to let others by as he speaks with the minister. "Yes it's in my report. I feel a little uneasy about putting off the investigation till tomorrow but I do need some sleep." Louis stifles a yawn. "We've all been working so hard but it doesn't seem to be enough." "I just hope we can recapture them all without having too many casualties." "We are already distrusted enough and lowstaffed enough as it is."

Sylvie Winters-Geroff nods, taking a few steps to stay with Louis and out of the way of the others in the area. As she moves the floating parchments bob beside her, and she counts them silently once they are settled again before speaking. "Are you teamed up with anyone staying later who can follow through? You'll only be a danger if you are too tired on the job; I wouldn't expect you personally to be on your case every second." Perhaps she's stepping on toes a little, surely Louis knows how to do his job, but her manner shows no appology for doing so either. It's all those little details that can end up causing so much trouble otherwise. "I'd prefer no casualties," she adds, with a hint of a frown. "Every report of one is too much. Do you," she glances quickly at those nearby, and chooses her phrasing carefully, "happen to have names in your reports?"

"Yes. Jenkins is parntered up with me on this case." Louis watches the bobbing papers for a moment before turning his attention back to Sylvie. "He'll be working on it tonight and we'll work on tracking in the morning." Louis doesn't seem to be bothered by the question, after all everyone is under a lot of stress not just the aurors. "I have names. I have more than a few actually but I won't go into detail here. They are all named in the report. I spent about an hour getting it ready alone."

An hour? Sylvie is silent for a moment, nodding at the mention that there /are/ names, otherwise just thinking. Finally she speaks up again. "Is it taking that long for everyone? I don't need a formal report; a copy of notes would be fine, as long as it shows a full day's worth of work. And any important information of course. Would that make it easier to handle?" Without really waiting for an answer, Sylvie continues, "I'll have to convey that to the rest of the staff. There are.. other things to be doing." And this is why it can be so important to check in with the regular workers now and then. "You do understand the necessity of the reports?" She glances around the hall again as she says this last, perhaps giving a clue as to why she doesn't get more specific, though if so she's no more obvious about it.

"Well it took me an hour today because there was a lot to report on." Louis admits this quickly. "Normally it doesn't take nearly so long for me. But as I said I have some leads and I wanted to make those as detailed as possible." Louis gives another nod to the Minister. "Yes I do understand the necessity of these reports." "We don't know who to trust even amongst ourselves. That much is pretty clear." Louis looks around as well as if to see if anyone were listening in on the conversation. "So the reports are of the utmost importance."

Sylvie Winters-Geroff finally smiles slightly. "Good. I'm glad to hear that. And I definitely look forward to reading the report tonight, if there is that much in it. Perhaps we will finally start coming across more breaks." .. "Anyway not included that I should be aware of right now? Particular needs within your department?" Sylvie asks, after a moments pause to decide she has no other specific questions.

"Right now?" Louis asks and then thinks a moment before sighing. "All I can think of that we really need are more wands and more hands holding them." "Well hands we can trust anyway." Louis looks at the Minister. "Other than that all we need is time that we don't have." Louis shakes his head. "I don't think there is much to do for either at this point. Hopefully these leads will give us more leads though. That is if the escapees have been working together."

"We'll see how many of them stay together once free. While it would be easier to catch them at one time, certain partnerships could also be a lot more dangerous." As she speaks, Sylvie gathers the parchments from the air back into her arms, stopping to count them one more time before speaking again. "If you come across a need I can supply, do let me know. I can't give you time or people, but I won't have you working without basic supplies covered." She looks Louis over once, then offers another thin smile. "Thank you for sparing a moment here. If that's all, I will let you be on your way; you must be anxious for some rest." And truth be told, she's anxious to finish her own errands.. and come back to read the list of names.

"Right." Louis nods and looks towards the other Aurors filing away their reports eager to get home. "It was a pleasure speaking to you. I only wish it were on lighter terms and topics Minister." With that Louis turns to make his way out for home. "Take care Minister. We need you more than ever." Louis says this before turning to shake hands with another auror saying his goodbyes before going home.

Ask Professor Rathe

The break in the days classes finds Vilivia Marqueen out on the front lawn enjoying the sun. She is sitting carefree in the grass her pet toad laying comfortably in her lap. "Mister Toad what do you think Seker and I should name our first son?" The girl asks absently not thinking that the toad of course can't answer. Rather Mister Toad just puffs out his throat and croaks some.

It's getting just marginally colder outside - but this is cold enough for Courtney Moffet to have donned a jolly yellow woolen cap over his bald head, pulled down over his ears tightly as he wanders outside the castle. He looks displeased, his mouth twisted in annoyance, and walking with big steps, his arms swinging wildly out from his body - maybe he's aware of how silly he looks in his cap and is trying to compensate, or maybe something else has him upset. When he approaches Vilivia, he stops, planting his hands on his hips and announcing, "You're a silly girl sometimes."

Silly girl?" Vilivia  looks up at the boy crossly at first. That is until she sees his hat. She cannot help but laugh. "What did you do to your head Courtney? What kind of hat is that for a wizard to wear?" Vilivia giggles and moves over on the grass so the boy can seat himself. Mister Toad just gives another bemused croak as he stares off lazily at the lake.

Yeah. Silly girl," Courtney repeats - and his scowl only gets all the more angry at her laughing at his hat. He rips it off his head and tosses it at Vilivia, his brow creased with annoyance. "It's a perfectly good hat, Livvy." He pronounces her nickname with unnecessary venom and emphasis, pausing for a moment to take a breath before adding, "I still haven't forgived you for introducing me as your brave orphan friend."

Forgiven. You still haven't forgiven me." Vilivia smiles at the chance to correct her friend's grammar. She takes the hat and looks it over giggling. "Well is it at least a warm hat? I imagion your head would get cold since you're balder than Mister Toad." Vilivia tosses the hat back to the boy. Mister Toad croaks again as if to say 'Is not'. "I'm sorry you haven't forgiven me. But she wanted an introduction and it's an important detail that you're an orphan. I told her so she would know not to make a big deal out of it and hurt your feelings."

You don't make sense!" Courtney fires back, catching the hat and shoving it back onto his head, over his ears. "It is a very warm hat, and besides, it's not all that important and if she didn't know then she wouldn't be able to make a big deal, and telling people IS making a big deal out of it." He pauses for a moment, before creasing his brow again and, folding his arms across his chest, adding, "Besides, you didn't have to tell her about the letter."

Oh well I mentioned the letter because it's just so heartbreakingly sad." Vilivia frowns a little remembering Courtney's momento of his mother. "I thought that if she saw it maybe you would get some better treatment here than you get at the orphanage. Because I like you and I was looking out for you. Thats all." [b]V[K]ilivi[b]a[x] seems genuinely saddened that she offended her friend so that day and looks down at her pet, stroking a hand over his head lovingly

Flopping down onto the ground next to Vilivia, Courtney looks up at her with a faint scowl. "I don't think they're allowed to play favourites on the basis of how sad someone's life was before they came here, so I don't think, somehow, that my letter will have any effect." He nods firmly to emphasize this, and turns his gaze to various spots around the castle grounds

"Oh well... I was just trying was all." Vilivia says this sheepishly as her cheeks redden. "I didn't think you would get so upset. After all I still think you are really brave even if you don't think so." Vilivia pets Mister Toad a bit more before looking at Courtney. "Your hat doesn't look THAT bad. I've just never seen one like it before. Usually wizard boys wear little pointed hats. That's all."

Reaching out with one arm to poke Vilivia in the side, Courtney nevertheless doesn't look at her, his gaze still drifting around the visible grounds, and then the sky. "My hat is great," he replies a bit absently, before adding, "I don't introduce YOU as my rich, snooty friend. And if I did, I wouldn't expect people to be nicer to me than you because you're richer and better than me."

"But I'm not snooty! If I were I wouldn't speak to poor people would I?" Vilivia sighs and flinches from the poke. "I'm not even rich. My Mummy and Daddy are. I don't have any money of my own yet. And my family is weird because we have so many ghosts in our house and everyone thinks it's weird." The girl looks out at the lake again curiously. "And anyway you should give me a break. I've never known an orphan before. How am I supposed to know how to act around you?"

Striding over the lawn and toward the castle the small form of a woman isn't much to distinguish it at first, but eventually it's no doubt that the person in question is actually Astra. Having left off the formal regalia that she wears during meals and pretty much during the entire school day she's instead dressed in her general archaic attire. Spotting the children she offers them a nod as she passes by and pulls down the collar of her coat so as to actually give them a fleeting smile. "It's good to see you Miss Marqueen," taking the time to greet the girl she adds, "And your intriguing friend . . . Mister Moffet." Apparently that particular introduction got quite firmly stuck in her memory.

"Oh..." Suddenly, Courtney is quite distracted by the approach of Astra; he jumps to his feet quite abruptly and bows deeply and rather formally to her, before extending an almost pompous hand for her to shake. He mentally notes the acknowledgment of him as the 'intriguing friend', and a brief scowl makes its way around his face, before he replies, "Yes, Courtney Moffet. Er. Hufflepuff."

"See Courtney you're intriguing!" Her voice is happy and high pitched as she too stands setting Mister Toad in her hands as she curtsies. "Hello Professor Rathe." Vilivia smiles widely and looks the Headmistress over. "I've been meaning to ask you Professor. Does it hurt you terribly that your husband is dead? I mean the father of your children passing away must be horrible. Did he come back as a ghost? Sometimes that happens a lot."

"Yes," the s extends to an almost hiss as Astra takes the offered hand and shakes Courtney's hand with a firm grasp. "I remember you well Mister Moffet and not just because of your friendship with Miss Marqueen. You boldly introduced yourself last time as I remember." "I was expecting that you would introduce yourself a first time much less a second, but now your name will not escape me in the future." There's a lingering smile on her lips but it flutters away the moment Vilivia's questions is off the girl's lips. Staring openly now she blinks once and then twice at the girl before drawing herself up to her full height which granted isn't much. "I suppose it would if your suggestion were in any way based in fact, but as I have never been married why no - it doesn't." While she speaks crisply her attitude isn't so much anger as surprised. "Miss Marqueen, where on /earth/ did you get the idea I was /married/? Surely you know I was /born/ a Rathe?"

Oh well I.... I assumed that Seker's father was married to you. I hadn't thought abot your being born a Rathe I mean I knew you were but a I thought you may have kept your name." Vilivia bites her lip. "So you never married before. So does that mean.... OH no wonder!" "Professor Helit must be Seker's father right? You must be finally getting married right?"

"You weren't married?" The words pop out of Courtney's mouth before he can even stop himself, and there's a flush rising in his cheeks before he's even finished speaking. He stammers a little as he backtracks, continuing with, "I mean - I, I don't mean to pry, but that's... unusual, isn't it!" He clears his throat, adding, "I was taught it was always polite to introduce myself!"

Looking more amused than annoyed at this point Astra has to actually bring a hand to her mouth to keep from outright laughing. "While I do laud your idea of keeping my name and indeed that is what I plan on doing no matter who I take as husband, I'm afraid to disappoint you." Clearing her throat, she presses her fingers across the top of her teeth to stop the laughter and then she pulls her hand away. "No, Professor Helit is most certainly /not/ the father of my children." "Vilivia dear," actually speaking to the girl using her first name, you know of the Whits, yes?" They are one of the families that the Rathe generally marry, "I took Blair Whit to be my paramour back when I was seventeen. /He/ is the father of my children." "Professor Helit came to teach much later and well after my own graduation." Then addressing Courtney she shrugs "Marriage is generally the course of action one follows to have children, but it isn't the only way.

"Oh wow. I didn't know people could do that!" Vilivia opens her mouth a little wide. "I thought you had to be married to have children! Do you think Seker will want to marry me Professor Rathe? He could just father children without getting married right?" The girl looks somewhat worried by this hugging her pet to her chest.

With a pitying glance to Vilivia, Courtney informs her in a stage whisper, "Adults lie about how to have babies all the time." He looks up at Astra, then, his eyes widening - and, apparently, some detail falling into place. "Oh!" He gasps, clasping his hands together as he looks up at the Headmistress, adding in a rather arrogant tone, "I know all about THAT! Like when there's a girl who wants to wait until she's married but the man says this one time won't hurt - and then she has a baby." It's not clear if he even knows what the girl is "waiting" for, but he speaks like he thinks he's an expert on this. He nods, before adding, "You must have a very supportive family to not mind that you had a baby out of wedlock."

Pressing the heel of her palm against her forehead Astra heaves a small sigh and as Courtney speaks her hands slides over her face as she mutters to herself. "If Seker agrees to the contract he will marry you, but yes, I suppose he /could/ father without marrying. However, taking that step is trickier for men than women. After all, I kept my children. How would he do the same since he isn't the one to give birth? The woman in question would have to agree to that and most women wouldn't. Don't worry so much Vilivia. You have a long time before you need to think about those kinds of things." Rubbing her forehead again she rolls her shoulders and eyes Courtney, "First not all adults lie about babies and *sex*." Yes, she said the 's' word and it doesn't end it 'hit'. "Second, my family wanted children more than they wanted a marriage." "As for your example, I suppose it is *something* like that, but I knew what I was doing and neither of us were waiting. I was betrothed, but I br
oke that contract when I turned of age because I didn't *want* a marriage."

Vilivia's eyes go wide. Did the Headmistress just say SEX?? She looks just a little more than scandalized. "Professor Rathe! I didn't think a lady was supposed to talk about .... well talk about that so frankly." "My Daddy says that it isn't very lady like for me." Vilivia calms down a little after a few deep breaths. "Maybe it's because I'm still a young woman that Daddy says that though." "I mean I'm not all grown up an thirteen years old yet." Yes apparetnly to Vilivia thirteen is all grown up. She looks to Courtney. "Boys mature slower than girls though...." "So we shouldn't be talking about such mature subject matter in front of you know who."

"Tone told me all about that word," Courtney replies dismissively, folding his arms across his chest. For all that he puts on this facade, though, he seems genuinely a little scandalised by what Astra has said. Eventually, though, he comments, mainly to himself, "I'm not sure if that's the way it's /supposed/ to be done..." He looks quite doubtful, looking up at Astra with a mix of emotions; she is the Headmistress so she must be right to say what she pleases, but he's always been taught something to the contrary. "I expect your family is /different/..."

Furrowing her brow Astra just stares at the children as if what Vilivia has said is more freakish than her own use of the sex word. "Sex is sex and it's natural and normal. You breathe, you bleed, you feel pain, you feel joy, you urinate, you defecate, and when you're a little older you'll be more interested in sex. It's just a word." A word that many adults, even wizarding adults, might shy away from using around children but apparently the Headmistress is not one of these. Shrugging at Courtney, "My family doesn't have issues with sex or sex outside of marriage or children outside of marriage." "Unlike muggles and some wizards, my family worships no real religion. There isn't any such need for a religious contract and only a political or social one if it is agreeable to all parties. Since my contract wasn't agreeable and I didn't sign the contract, but my father did, I saw to breaking it." There's a beat of silence as she looks away, "But that action came at a cost and I e
a
rned some enemies."

"Well I know it's sex...." Vilivia looks to Courtney and rolls her eyes a little. "Yeah but Tone is your age isn't he? He doesn't know anything either." Vilivia rolls her eyes again. "Boys are so dumb. Not like grownup men." "Like Seker." Vilivia sighs and gets a faraway look in her eyes, Mister toad seems to croak in agreement. "Professor Rathe you should tell my parents that. They think it's no okay to talk about such things in front of children.... or company... or anyone really."

It's possible, from the look on Courtney's face, that Astra is the first person he has ever met who is explicitly non-religious. His eyes widen a little, but he shakes his head and turns to look at Vilivia, apparently feeling that something like this is best not commented up. As for Vilivia, he scathingly informs her, "Tone is older than me, thank you very much, don't you know anything?" He crosses his arms across his chest before he adds, "You have to be older than us to do it anyway, maybe they don't want you getting ideas."

"You have to be older because your bits aren't mature enough yet and it wouldn't be fun. Really, don't people teach their kids /anything/?" Astra muddles over this because the whole idea of not knowing is as bizarre to her as it would be to most people to /know/ of it before a certain age. Shaking her head and muttering again the woman turns away and begins to walk off before speaking over her shoulder, "If you have more questions in the future just ask. I see no reason to lie - it's a filthy habit."

Watching as the Headmistress moves to walk away Vilivia looks to Courtney. "I think you must have offended her." She whispers before making a tching noise with her teeth. "Bye bye Professor Rathe! If I have any questions about sex I'll come an ask you!" Vilivia giggles softly and takes a seat back on the grass setting her toad in her lap again.

"Pretty sure you're not meant to," Courtney replies with a hint of doubt in his voice as he looks up and after Astra. "I mean, you get in trouble off your family... unless you're like Professor Rathe... and people throw things at you in the street. Oh, and God sometimes gets angry, but he knows that you don't really mean it and you can't help it really, so he gets over it if you remember to say your prayers and thank him and say sorry." He shrugs his shoulders, looking after Astra with a bit of a frown.

"I don't think God cares as much as people do." Vilivia doesn't actually look very sure of who this God person is herself. "I mean what business is it of his if people want to have a baby and not be married?" Vilivia looks up at Courtney and blinks a few times. "You should apologize to her by letter. I think you really offended her." Vilivia looks back out at the lake and smiles. "I wonder if the mer-people get married before they have babies."

"I s'pose it's not, really. That's why he forgives you so easily when you say sorry. People don't forgive you if you say sorry, they just keep throwing stuff at you." Courtney glances over towards the lake, frowning a little more. "Why would they? They aren't human. Maybe they have their own rituals and things, stuff that they have to do to have babies. I mean, dogs don't get married, they just have a tonne of puppies. Maybe if you're a merperson you have to... prove yourself or something. With a Grand Task."

"Oh like a quest to prove true love?" Vilivia's face lights up at this romantic idea that Courtney is partially responsible for. "Maybe you boys aren't so immature after all." Vilivia looks out at the lake and sighs herself. "I wish I could go under the lake and meet the merpeople. I bet they can tell you all kinds of stories. Really romantic ones.

Courtney rolls his eyes at Vilivia's excitement, and he peers down towards the lake with a furrowed brow. "What if they just thought you were going to attack them and they stabbed you? That wouldn't be very romantic. A merman could give your body to his beloved and say you were coming to attack her. Then they could have babies." He shrugs his shoulders again and looks towards the castle. "I'm going back inside. I'll see you later I guess." With that, he begins his meander back inside.

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.

A Visit to an Old Friend

It's been a good long while since Darius announced his resignation from Hogwarts, and seemingly retired at an age far earlier than most ever would consider. He left a forwarding address, but few would have suspected where it would be: A small flat in a quiet town a bit out from London. The locals are muggles, but his place, on the outskirts, can be accessed pretty easily without drawing undue attention from locals. Overall, it's a sleepy, depressing, grey place. His place has a back door, with a small bell hanging next to it.

Late one afternoon - clearly after classes at Hogwarts have finished for the day, but before normal dinnertime - Quintus makes his way down to the muggle area where Darius has, apparently, set up camp. Surely, it would be easy enough for him to make his way here without attracting muggle attention, but just to be safe, rather than his usual robes, he's decked out in black trousers and a knee-length dark-coloured coat, which he wraps around his body as protection from the chill wind. As he reaches Darius's door, he pauses (checking the number, wouldn't want to startle some stranger) before ringing the bell once, sharply.

A short moment passes before the door opens a crack, and the familiar face of Darius Dwight, a little thinner than it once was, emerges. "Professor Helit," He announces, opening the door wider with a smile. "It's been far too long. Please, come in, come in. I'll make you a tea. What on earth brings you out this way?" Looking to Quintus, Darius pauses in the living room to flick his wand once and wait for Quintus's response. At the flick of the wand, what looks like a normal muggle house suddenly sparks into life, as what look like sheets of paper roll off furniture, desks and bookshelves to reveal old letters, paintings, an African war-shield broken into two halves and many more old knick-knacks from his days of travel.

Peering through the door with a raised eyebrow, Quintus watches as the house sets itself, revealing all sorts of knick-knacks. "Who were you expecting that you had it all covered?" He asks drily, though he does step inside moments afterwards, pulling the door closed behind him carefully and removing his coat, revealing a neatly tailored silk shirt - certainly not his usual style, not by any means. "I wanted to have a chat with you about something," he comments in turn, still looking around the living area. "You are right, it has been some time since we've spoken."

Darius Dwight waves his hand dismissively at Quintus's question. "Townsfolk drop by. I have this illusion ready at all times. I see more muggles than wizards these days, to tell you the truth." His eyebrows raise in a curious manner at Quintus's dress, and at his mention of a chat. "Indeed. Wait a while, I'll go get the tea. You take yours as coffee, if I recall? Black, no sugar?" Darius looks at Quintus and smirks, and waits for an answer before leaving.

"Tea is fine," Quintus calls back, folding his coat neatly and then laying it over the back of a chair a little uncomfortably, adding, "And no, don't you try to pull an Astra on me. Milk and sugar - plenty of sugar." As Darius makes his way into the kitchen, he continues to stand awkwardly in the living area, his gaze drifting from artifact to artifact, but not lingering on any one thing for very long.

Darius carefully waits until Quintus has explained what he wants, before heading into the kitchen. He notes as he walks in that "you can sit down if you like" but is otherwise silent until he returns with two cups of tea, one black, the other white with plenty of sugar. Darius jokes as he hands one over, "How is the old lady, anyway? You're not married yet. Taking your time, aren't you?" Sitting into a comfy lounge chair, Darius gestures to a chair directly opposite him for Quintus.

Taking both the indicated seat and the cup of tea, Quintus warms his hands for a moment in silence, considering the question laid against him. After a moment he comments, "Things have come up - most recently, there was the breakout, but there's been other things... it's still going to happen." He sips at his tea, smirking a little bit himself, before adding, "She also wants to do everything right - first we met with her father, and soon we're meeting with my mother..."

"Unusually formal of her." Darius grins, looking at a small pair of beaded wooden cups on a shelf to his right before returning his gaze to Quintus. "But perhaps that's her pure bred nature coming out. The Rathes are a proud family, what's left of them anyway. Me? I never really understand it. I'm a mutt like you." Grinning, he sips at his tea and declares, "Come on, out with it. What are you here for?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Quintus remains silent a moment longer, sipping at his tea rather than saying anything. Eventually, he observes, "Even though she bucks a lot of trends, there are a few points where... doing things the right way is important to her." He lowers his cup, considering Darius for a moment, before he continues, "...anyway, it's about the wedding that I wanted to talk to you. I know we haven't spoken in some time, but you and Astra always seemed... remarkably close."

With a grin, Darius waves his hand in that quick dismissive gesture of his. "Quintus, Quintus. I've not seen her in years. If you're jealous now, you'll never make it work!" Despite the joking admonishment, his tone suggests he's waiting for the real question.

A further moment of silence follows, this one rather more chilly than the last, before Quintus gruffly explains, "That wasn't where that sentence was going." With a sip of his tea, he adds, "In fact, I had not considered that possibility... until you brought it up just now." The expression he sets on Darius is, briefly, one that wonders if he really ought to ask the next question, but still he carries on with, "Actually, I was wondering if that... closeness would mean you would do us the honour of participating in the ceremony."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Quintus," Darius leans closer, more serious now, looking Quintus dead in the face. "I'd never interfere with your plans. I'm a better friend to both of you than that, I'd like to hope." With a pause, he leans back a bit, still surveying Quintus's gaze as he speaks. "And I'd be happy to, although if you want me to perform, I don't think I'd do very well. Formal pieces are not really my strength, I know, I've been practising composition..." He points to a stack of sheet-music on the coffee table. Tea stains mark most of it.

"I'm not asking you to compose for it," Quintus corrects, shaking his head slightly and sipping at his tea, before adding, "In fact, I was hoping that you would be the best man -- if you'd rather not, that's fine as well." He downs the last of his tea in one mouthful, shaking his head a little and, clearly, looking for a place to put the cup aside, now that he is done.

Leaning backward, Darius doesn't speak for a small moment. Looking to the side, he juts out his chin a moment and then returns to looking at Quintus, with a wide smile. "I'd be honoured." He observes, and stands up to walk over to Quintus and shake his hand. "Congratulations, professor. I don't think anyone can make an honest woman out of Astra, but you've done as good a job of it as anyone could manage, I think."

"I don't like that phrase," Quintus replies, standing up and accepting the handshake with a faint smirk. "An honest woman... I think if she's having children at eighteen, you don't get to come along and make an honest woman of her when she's forty... or, at this rate, perhaps forty-one, or forty-two." His faint smirk breaks into a broader smile as he adds, "And save your congratulations until we find out if she survives meeting my mother."

"I doubt she'd like it either. Make sure you give me some more warning for when it finally happens, and I'll be there. You can send owls out here; they're common enough that no-one will notice it flying close to my house." Darius smiles.

"I won't trespass on your time any longer," Quintus replies simply, though he maintains his smile, now; it's plain that, for all that he's not seen this man in years, he has very little to say to him beyond the business already conducted. "I'll be in touch, I'll let you know what our plans are." He reaches for his coat, unfolding it with a shake, and shrugging it back on.

Trading Sorrows

(OOC: 1908-09 school year.)

,-[ Hogwarts Grounds - Narrow Descent ]---------------------------------------.

Thomas D'Arcy gently walks over to a clump of bushes, dexterously separating them. "Sorry, Sylvie" he murmurs, seeming rather crestfallen...

Sylvie Winters looks around, quietly, deciding this to be a much nicer spot then she usually escapes to. Looking back to Thomas, she shakes her head. "...sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for."

Thomas D'Arcy steps through the bushes with a shake of his curls. "If only I had...My mentor once said that if there is one thing that is the worst thing of all, it is regret. Never say, 'If only I had...'...If only I had worked a bit harder, not lost my temper so often earlier in the year..."

,-[ Basalt Cliffs ]-----------------------------------------------------------.

Sylvie Winters sighs softly. "You did a lot, Thomas. Did a lot good. More then I managed, certainly... But you have other years." She leaves it at that, following a touch curiously. So they weren't stopping there.. "This is nice," she comments.

Thomas D'Arcy gently runs his hands over the rock face, then begins slowly ascending the cliffs, easily finding hand and foot-holds. "Not there yet" he smiles. "And don't worry...this failure reflects not one tuppence on you."

Sylvie Winters says, "Oh? The path is nice, then.. I won't comment on anything else until you tell me we've reached it." And hopefully keep form making a fool of herself, though she does smile a bit. "I shan't mourn the points I didn't get, perhaps, but there's still enough I didn't do."

,-[ Basalt Ledge ]------------------------------------------------------------.

You did everything you could possibly do" Thomas D'Arcy replies, shaking his curls and pausing upon reaching the summit of the hill. "There...Is that not a fair prospect?" he inquires, gesturing over the landscape.

,-[ Shrouded Valley ]---------------------------------------------------------.

Sylvie Winters says nothing, though she reaches a hand into a pocket where she still carries the newspaper. Points aside, there was one moment in the year when things really mattered, and she performed horridly. "Yes, it is indeed.." she agrees quietly, before continuing to follow.

Thomas D'Arcy pauses upon reaching one of the hollows, then abruptly swivels, attempting to give Sylvie a quick peck on the cheek. "And Sylvie" he murmurs, drawing away. "When I said you did everything possible...I meant it."

Sylvie Winters stops moving for a moment, a bit surprised. Then she gives a slight nod. "I.. well, thank you, Thomas. I only thought I had learned what I needed to." No need to dwell, though.. Not now. "What's done is done, I suppose.. next year is a new one."

Thomas D'Arcy flops down in a particularly grassy area, nodding once. "Well...we probably ought to get packed. I must depart for Egypt in a week, and the train leaves rather soon..." His actions, of course, are certainly not those of one who intends to leave anytime soon...

Sylvie Winters looks around slowly, before carefully taking a seat. "Are you not already packed?" she inquires, before the second thing said really registers. "You're going to Egypt over the summer?"

Yes" Thomas D'Arcy replies, closing his eyes. "To both questions. And father has decided it is time for me to begin observing business arrangements. I believe we are going to be working on some sort of shipping transactions...or something of the sort."

Sylvie Winters nods. "Shipping transactions? I'm afraid I hardly know anything about that.. Still, it must be an interesting place. Have you been before?"

Thomas D'Arcy sighs, shaking his curls dolefully. "I have never been there" he replies, wrinkling his nose. "And I have no wish to go there...From what I have heard, tis completely a heathen land. Not to mention being unbearably hot."

Sylvie Winters leans back, finding a more comfortable position on the ground. "I hadn't heard. It's not one of the places I went to, myself. Surely there is something to see in every foreign place, though.. if you're one who likes to travel. Will you be gone the whole vacation, then?"

Thomas D'Arcy nods, biting down hard on his lip. "Yes...yes I will. Perhaps it is a good thing, though...I'm not certain if I can face other wizards after what happened with Winterbourne..."

Sylvie Winters winces inwardly. For her own part, she's hardly willing to look anyone in the face, now. "I never heard exactly what happened, after... But from what the Professor said, it sounded like you did well, helping." Her voice has a someone questioning tone to it.

Thomas D'Arcy sneers slightly. "My help indeed...Twas my fault the auror was killed, you know. I had three choices...and I picked the worst of the three. If I had either attacked Winterbourne, or incapacitated Nan in time, Ebiroth would still be alive. And now...."

Sylvie Winters shakes her head. "You mustn't blame yourself for that. You couldn't have known which to choose ahead of time.. And at least you were there to help. You did what you could."

You were incapacitated" Thomas D'Arcy observes, lip twisting slightly. "And did you see the look on Hazeltine's face when he saw what had happened to Tudor? Simply ghastly..."

Sylvie Winters asks quietly, "Incapacitated?" She shakes her head again. "I was /helping/ Winterbourne!" Her eyes examine the ground near her as she adds, "I didn't see him, of course. It's a terrible thing that happened, but you can't blame yourself for it, Thomas."

Then who else can I blame?" Thomas D'Arcy inquires, gazing up with an oddly helpless expression. "I can't blame even Winterbourne....nor anyone else."

Sylvie Winters says, "It was chance, nothing else. Horrible, random chance." She looks over Thomas for a moment. "If you simply must blame someone, blame me. It's better then anyone else.. But it /wasn't your fault/."

You?" Thomas D'Arcy inquires, incredulous. "/You/? No one can resist an imperio spell from someone as powerful as Winterbourne...Don't be foolish. No, twas my indecision and incompetence that cost the auror his life."

Sylvie Winters raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Well, why shouldn't it be blamed on the fact that I didn't realize who he was until too late, or that I went off with him alone, or that I did no more then 'keep an eye on him' when it was obvious something was wrong? Or.. here.. blame it on the fact that I /did/ notice something wrong early on, and made sure I could stay near him." She chuckles for a moment at the hopeless number of reasons she came up with. "Honestly, Thomas, you were trying to /help/. That in itself is good."

Thomas D'Arcy gazes up at Sylvie reproachfully. "At least you realized what he was...and how could you possibly have known that he would choose to imperio you? No one else had any rational reason to doubt the veracity of his comments. And there wasn't anything else you could have truly done. I on the other hand..." He pauses, trailing off. "Well, argumentation in this matter is useless...I suppose I shall just send that letter to Charlotte...and hope she accepts my offer."

Sylvie Winters protests, "I /didn't/ realize what he was. Only that something was wrong. I'm sure so much more was expected of me, as Head Girl.." She trails off. "What offer is that?"

Weell..." Thomas D'Arcy begins doubtfully. "I placed my resources at her disposal...She is practically an orphan now, you know...and I'm not certain what is to become of her."

Sylvie Winters seems to think about that for a moment. "That's.. kind of you."

Thomas D'Arcy frowns, shaking his head. "Tis the least I can do for stealing her father from her...and it certainly doesn't even come close to making up for my negligence."

Sylvie Winters sighs. "I'll never convince you, will I? You did your best, and no one can ask more of you then that. But I'm sure she'll be grateful, just the same, for you offer."

Ruth Cohen walks in, aimlessly, looking as though she's merely trying to put off the thought of having to go meet up with Tristan and get adjusted to living in an entirely different place. She catches the sounds of Sylvie and Thomas's conversation, but none of the words. Ruth begins meandering over towards them, first giving a half-hearted wave.

I'm afraid not" Thomas D'Arcy replies from his position in one of the grassy hollows. He lifts his head, giving Ruth an equally half-hearted wave before allowing his head to fall back once more.

Sylvie Winters says quietly, "I mean it, though," before sitting up a bit straighter, and offering Ruth a quiet nod.

Ruth Cohen kicks absently at a clump of grass, wondering what Sylvie and Thomas are talking about but having learned enough tact not to ask about it. "So.." she begins, but finds she has nowhere to go with it.

So what?" Thomas D'Arcy inquires, evidently assuming that Ruth had overheard the conversation. "We move on...I don't know how, but I can't possibly keep moaning in this fashion. Tis counter-productive."

Um," Ruth Cohen says, looking clearly confused. "So stop moaning?" she finally suggests. "C'mon, get up, the train'll leave soon. I was just saying 'so' because I didn't have anything else to say."

Thomas D'Arcy laughs ominously as he rises to his feet. "Good point...I really must give Loudown a sort of congratulations present. And we can't miss the train..."

Sylvie Winters returns to surveying the ground. Move on. It's a good idea, however impossible. "Do what you can, now, and don't beat yourself up over the past." She glances between the two, also standing. "How much time do we have?"

Ruth Cohen raises an eyebrow at Thomas but finally shakes her head, deciding she'd rather /not/ know what he plans to give Tessa. "It'll come pretty soon," she answers Sylvie. "I've lost track of time a bit, so I'm not entirely sure .."

Yes indeed" Thomas D'Arcy mutters, growling slightly. "Especially if you make an error beating yourself up." He laughs dryly, then heads off downstream. "We have about ten minutes"

Sylvie Winters peers after Thomas. An error? Well, time to go face everyone again, anyway... with a small shrug to herself, she starts to follow.

Ruth Cohen narrows her eyebrows disapprovingly at Thomas's back, and follows.

,-[ Hogwarts Grounds - Train Platform ]---------------------------------------.

Thomas D'Arcy heads over to the wall, against which his belongings have already been placed. It pays to have friends among the house-elves, no?

Ruth Cohen , on the other hand, dragged her own trunk out here before heading out to the valley and left it foolishly unattended. She takes a seat on top of it, swinging her booted feet softly, allowing her heels to bang into the side.

Jason Simmons Comes up the hillf from the direction of the dark castle, carrying a steamer trunk. He is dressed in Muggle Clothing.

Sylvie Winters glances up toward the school. "I'd better go get my things," she mutters. "See you on the train, perhaps. If not, keep in touch.. Or.. well, see you next year, anyway," she finishes quickly.

Jason Simmons says, "Hello!"

Jason Simmons says, "hello." Jason Simmons says, waving cheerfully to Samuel."

See you, Sylvie!" Ruth Cohen calls out cheerfully. "It'll be weird to call you Professor Winters, next year."

Hearing Ruth, Jason Simmons breaks into a big grin which he tries to hide behind his hand. Obviously the fact that Sylvie will be their new transfiguration teacher seems funny to him.

Jason Simmons looks at the Train and then turns and stares mournfully at the Castle behind him. He will miss all of his friends over the summer vacation.

Sylvie Winters smiles weakly toward Ruth. "Only when others are around," she calls back, quietly, before moving off toward the building.

Fashion Sense and Plain, Simple Sense

Early afternoon, and Madame Malkins Robes has hit a bit of a lull - a moment where it's fairly quiet within the store. Quintus Helit seems to be taking advantage of this, peeking in the window first to see how busy it is, before striding in and moving, naturally, straight to the plate of biscuits to nibble upon as he studies the store, mostly eying the fabrics and the pre-made garments, but his eyes also flickering to the many and varied photographs that are up in display. None of this seems to please him very much - not even the biscuit! - and he views the store with a critical, not to mention uncomfortable, eye. As he looks around, he shifts his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, brushing down his rather poor robe with one hand.

Satinka Rathe has been in the shop for at least an hour, trying on the various creations that the folks at Madame Malkin's have been working on for her, and it is just a moment after Quintus that she draws the curtains back, then steps forward in a bright pink ensemble with a high sheen to it. She strides over to the mirror, looking at herself first from the front, then the side, then she examines herself from various angles, looking over her shoulder to see the back side. "It's not quite right," she says slightly testily. "This is supposed to be a reinvention of the bustle. I drew you a picture of it!" She reaches back and tries to poof up the back a bit. "It should look more like that. No, no, it's /supposed/ to look like that, darling," she tells the woman helping her, then her eyes fall on Quintus, who happens to be dead ahead, though a few feet away. "Well, fancy meeting you here," she comments. "Mum finally convinced you then, old man?"

Awoken from his critical inspection of the store by Satinka's words, Quintus looks up, eyes narrowing at her - it's plain his internal critique hasn't stopped, and he's far less than impressed with her choice in clothing. All he says, however, is a terse, "Miss Rathe," followed by a shake of his head and an intoned, "She has insisted, so I thought to finally make her happy and get... /something/ new." He considers her for a moment longer, before scoffing softly to himself and turning away to look at some different fabrics with a shake of his head and an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Satinka grins impishly to the man who is betrothed to be her stepfather. "Well, I hope whatever you get, it won't be /brown/," Satinka comments with a slight giggle. She smooths her own robes a bit, then looks to the assistant. "What do you think, a bit of a contrast with a black and white striped scarf attached right up here at the neckline." She tugs at the neckline, then smooths the dress down her sides. "Maybe we can cinch this in a bit. I don't have much here at my hips, but I think we can create an illusion that I do, what do you think?" She seems to be bossing the assistant around more than asking for real suggestions about what she wants her dress to look like. "What do you think?" She asks Quintus, slightly cheekily.

The comment about brown is waved off without the slightest bit of consideration, and Quintus seems content to just ignore Satinka - up until she asks him for his opinion! He looks up at her, then down at her dress with a creased brow. For a long moment, he doesn't offer any advice or opinion, but eventually he grunts, "Sure, what you just said," and turns to look back at the fabric. It's plain from the slight twitch of his lip that there's a lot more he'd like to say, but that he's holding his tongue - as though to prevent himself from saying anything, he waves over another assistant and indicates a particular fabric - black silk, from the looks of where he's pointing.

As Quintus offers no real comments on her current ensemble in progress, Satinka smiles to the assitant. "Well, make note of what I said," she instructs the woman, then makes her way back to her changing area. After just a moment, the girl reemerges wearing a fully complete ensemble in a shade of light lavender with yellow pinstripes running up and down. Her robes are fitted tight through the hips, then they flare out right below her hips. The top has an oversized collar, and a little peek of lace comes out of a deep v-neck. She comes to join Quintus as he looks at the fabrics. "If you want to really shock mother with style, take the navy with the pinstripes," she suggests without being asked her opinion. "Or perhaps even that lovely shade of green over there." She looks him over. "It would suit you, and I do think mother would like it."

Uh... huh," Quintus turns to look at Satinka's ensemble, raising an eyebrow at it and just shaking his head slowly at her. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way," he begins carefully, narrowing his eyes at her, "but your sense of fashion seems... dramatically different to mine." He clears his throat and turns to look at the display of fabrics again, adding, "I like brown. And black." He informs her, though he does a raise a hand and add, in a sort of 'well, if I must' tone, "And blue. Sometimes. But I really don't need help, I'm quite capable of selecting for myself."

"Oh, well, I don't think lavender is quite your color anyway, so I wouldn't recommend it to you," the girl states nonchalantly, smirking at him a bit. "To be perfectly fair," Satinka starts, giving him a once-over for the second time. "If mother's insisting you get new robes, your taste in robes can't be /entirely/ sound. Don't worry, guy, I'll help you out. You're going to be a Rathe - so to speak - and you can't look shabby if you're going to be part of our family!" She nods decisively, then steps around him to take down a bolt of a subtle emerald green fabric, then she follows with a dark gray. "How about this one?" she suggests, pointing to the gray. "Perhaps with a modern cut robe, it could look /very/ chic."

"I would really not like your help," Quintus insists, folding his arms across his chest - looking over her for a moment, he adds, "It may be that I tend to look for practicality above prettiness, and that you may know that better than me, being a girl, but..." He shakes his head, adding, "I still do not require your help." His apparent annoyance gives way, however, to a sort of perplexed expression - the young woman seems to have a force of personality that is derailing his attempts to brush her off.

"Is this any way to treat your eventual step-daughter?" Satinka protests, plopping two bolts of fabric down onto the counter nearby. "I can understand if you want to look the /same/, and have mummy harping over your robes all the time, by all means," she comments, smoothing her own robes, then looking back to Quintus. "I'm only trying to /help/ you look like a decent sort-of-member of the Rathe family. /Apparently/ you just don't /care/ about how you represent this family!" She huffs a bit, crossing her arms and turning away from him slightly.

For a moment, it seems as though Quintus is about to apologise - but then he stops himself, shaking his head, and observes, "If you're going to poke into other people's purchases, there's no need to get all offended if they tell you they don't want your help." He shakes his head, but he reaches out for the bolts of fabric as he adds, "If I get any assistance on what I should get, I would prefer it came from a professional, not... just anyone. Even future family."

Satinka waves her hand dismissively as he speaks to her again, then turns back toward him. "The women here are very nice," she smiles to one nearby, then continues, "but they don't know true fashion and style. The only way to get anything good is to give exact directions. I know what I'm talking about, old man! You're stuck in the /past/ with those... /antiquated/ styles. /So/ fifteen years ago." Satinka seems to miss the irony that fifteen years ago, she had been only seven years old and liked her clothes as poofy and frilly as possible. "I will tell mother that you are dismissing perfectly valid advice regarding the styling of robes. See what she says /then/."

"Oh, do tell her that," Quintus advises her, his lips curling just slightly into a faint smirk. "Tell her, while dressed like that - and be sure to add it was your advice I was refusing." This comes out a little nastier than, perhaps, was intended, and he seems to realise this, for he mitigates it with a more amiable, "I don't care to be on the cusp of fashion; as you delight in point out, I'm an 'old man', and I would look even - I would look absurd," he corrects himself, "in so-called modern fashions."

Sighing, Satinka shakes her head testily. "Fine. If you must be that way, then be that way," she tells him. "But I don't want you to look common, so you better tell them to at least update your style even if you aren't going to take my very valid advice. I already told you that lavender wouldn't suit you," she tells him with a scoff. Satinka's temper is raised now, but she knows better than to take it out on the man who will, for all intents and purposes, be her father eventually. "I'll be back next week," she tells the woman that she had been working with earlier as she passes by. "Well. I suppose I'll see you at Seker's betrothal feast, then," she tells Quintus, somewhat coldly, giving another derisive look to his current ensemble before she starts toward the door slowly but decisively.

"Yes, the betrothal feast," Quintus repeats, not seeming especially bothered by the fact that she's leaving - before she does, however, he turns to look at her, calling out after her, "Miss Rathe?" He takes a step after her, adding, "On that note, I did have one question to pose to you. Are you intending to follow in your brother's footsteps and find a partner any time in the near future?"

Stopping short as Quintus poses this question to her, she turns toward him again. "And what, exactly, do you call Abe?" she asks, though few would call him much of a partner - his function is to serve as a sugar daddy in exchange for someone pretty and socially educated on his arm at social functions. It's pretty clear the young woman still spends most of her evenings out with any number of men and women getting into all kinds of silly and irresponsible hijinks and couplings. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to insult Abe by insinuating that he is somehow unworthy a partner for me."

Not being very involved in her life, Quintus didn't know about Abe, but he takes this in stride, shrugging his shoulders and posing the next question of, "You're right, I had... overlooked that. So, are you planning on /marrying/ anyone? It does not seem like you are on the road to... engagement with this man, unless I'm mistaken?" He studies her for a moment, eyebrows raised.

"What's your rush?" Satinka counters, crossing her arms across her chest. "You're much older than I am, and you're only just engaged relatively recently. It isn't like I'm past my /prime/ or something, and now Seker's promised to provide some Rathe heirs, so what's the rush?" she asks him, then waves her hand dismissively. "You just have marriage on your mind, old man," she calls him this as if it's his name. "Don't worry. When we /feel/ like getting married, then we'll do it up properly." She smirks at him.

"Fine, fine," Quintus raises a hand to Satinka, rolling his eyes and then adding, in quite a serious tone, "It's just been my experience that seeing someone with no intent to marry can be... misleading. And problematic. Just preparing to be your step-father, I suppose." By the end, there's just a hint that he's joking - but it's hard to say, and he returns to looking at different fabrics without so much as another word to the young lady.

"Don't worry," Satinka assures him with a smirk. "Abe and I have a very solid agreement, and we're both aware of what we want from the arrangement," she says casually. She watches as the man turns from her again, craning to see over his shoulder or around him. "Try him out in that charcoal," she tells one of the assistants. "Ta!" she calls to Quintus, then sweeps out of the door quickly before he can protest to her.

Helping Hands

The apartment door opens straight into the main living area, a fluffy lounge to one side, and a coffee table in the centre of the room. This room opens straight into a quite modern kitchen. To one side, the bronze-coloured walls open into a hallway, through which at least three doors can be seen - one is closed, but the other two are left open, showing a bathroom and what seems to be a master bedroom. Though quite stylish, in its way, and clearly only recently renovated, it has been left quite untidy - there's dishes piled up in the sink from at least the last two or three meals, two used coffee cups and several newspapers and magazines are strewn across the coffee table, and there are clothes draped over much of the furniture in the master bedroom. In the middle of all this is Kelly Linwood, who is lying down on the lounge with her bare feet kicked up on the arm (didn't anyone ever teach her not to do that?), reading a several months old edition of Witch Weekly.

Olivia Geroff has a bag over one shoulder, an infant in a carrier across her front and a child attached to each hand, while the oldest walks calmly along at her side. "You may play with your little toys very quietly, but don't interrupt mummy and her friend, alright?" she tells the young children in a sing-song kind of voice, trying to look cheerful, but really just looking - and feeling - slightly overpiled with things. She lets go of Jason's hand to rap on the door quickly, then, as if she's afraid the boy will be spontaneously whisked away, she takes up his hand again just as quickly.

"The door's open!" Kelly sings out in response to the quick knock on the door, but she wiggles this way and that to get herself up, and eventually makes her way to the door herself. These days, she's looking quite heavy, and she moves a little awkwardly. As she sees Olivia and her friends, she scowls a little - she's plainly not in a particularly good mood - but affects a smile as she greets them with, "This is a surprise... Olivia, was it? And... all your children." This last sounds a little more forced, but she glances over her shoulder, then shuffles out of the way to let them inside. "Sorry, it's a... little untidy in here. I haven't been much of one for cleaning lately."

Olivia looks slightly dumbstruck. "I owled you that I'd be visiting," the woman stammers a bit, then makes her way inside. "Don't touch anything that isn't yours," she tells the three older children then turns her attention to Kelly. "I imagine you're finding it harder to get around," she comments, pulling the bag off of her shoulder, but leaving the baby sling across her front, cradling it gently. "I brought some things for you." She pauses. "I'm not certain why, but I had a premonition that you'd be having a boy, so I brought mostly boys' clothes, though Evan snuck in some of the girls things. At any rate, I couldn't find some of them when I was looking. They're just in here." She gestures to the bag. Without even asking permission, Olivia busies herself with picking up the untidy area. "So, are you terribly bored with staying at home yet?"

"Did you?" Kelly asks, creasing her brow and looking at Olivia unsurely, taking her seat again on the lounge - rather than lying down with her feet up, though, she sits normally, leaving room for everyone else. "Did you tell me you were bringing your whole family?" Apparently, it's slipped her mind altogether, but she shrugs it off and watches Olivia cleaning up after her in silence. After a moment, she comments, "It's... nice of you to bring me all these things."

The three children, used to entertaining themselves for stretches of time, have plopped themselves in an empty bit of floor and seem to be playing some kind of make-belieev game involving lots of finger movements. Olivia herself has managed to tidy at least one patch of the room and she has made her way into the kitchen, where she has brandished her wand and begun to clean the dishes. "Yes, I'm sure I mentioned that. It's Cybele's day off today, and I couldn't stand being at home any longer." She pauses as she looks over at Kelly. "Well, aren't you even going to look at any of it? I believe there are a few books in there as well, to keep you occupied, if you want them. They're just some old muggle books that I have several copies of." The woman makes short order of the supply of dishes, but since she does not know the layout of Kelly's kitchen, she begins rummaging through cabinets to find where to put things away. "Is something the matter?" she asks, looking quite puzzled at
decidedly subdued behavior.

After a moment, Kelly suddenly calls out, "Oh! I remember now!" She stands up and makes her way into the kitchen, following Olivia, commenting, "You sent me a message saying that you would come visit today, but I really /don't/ remember you saying you were bringing all the children." She folds her arms across her chest, then shifts position and, instead, rests a hand on her large belly, before continuing, "No, you're right, I'd forgotten. You've been very helpful, you keep telling me things I didn't know! And your name's Olivia." She repeats this, as though trying to show off how much she /does/ remember of their past interactions.

"You're right, my name /is/ Olivia," said person comments, looking strangely at Kelly. "I thought we had established that some time back, but I suppose a reminder doesn't hurt." While the washing of the dishes themselves went quickly, Olivia is only half-finished with putting them away, since being in a strange kitchen has her somewhat disoriented. "Oh, this is Melia," Olivia finally thinks to tell Kelly. She pulls the two-month-old baby out of the sling, cradling her gently. "Would you like to hold her?" she offers, reaching her arms out slightly toward Kelly.

"Oh... I suppose so?" Kelly replies, reaching out to hold the baby; she manages to hold her carefully and in a supportive way, without dropping her, but is a bit awkward about doing so and it takes her a little while to get settled. "Melia? That's a... nice name," she comments, in an uncertain way that indicates she doesn't have much to say about it. "I'm sorry," that's an unusual thing to say for her, but she plows on anyway, "I'm not so with it today, I was thinking of dropping off for a nap, and... oh, that one goes in the cupboard over the stove, there." She nods towards the cupboard - she almost points, but remembers that she needs /both/ arms for the baby just in time and just jiggles the infant awkwardly.

"Ah, right," Olivia answers as she places the last few dishes away into their rightful homes, then starts using her wand to clean the surfaces in the kitchen - whether they need it or not. "I found that name in a book somewhere, and it just rather stuck," Olivia shares, not seeming to notice or otherwise not caring that Kelly seems only moderately interested. "Her middle name is Elaine. Evan wanted Ellen - that's his grandmother's middle name, but I talked him into Elaine. I like it better than Ellen. It's just a nicer name, don't you think?" She smiles pleasantly to Kelly as she finishes with the counter-level surfaces. The woman looks briefly at the floor, but decides it would be better to wait until there is nobody actually standing on it to start cleaning it. "How have you been keeping yourself busy?" She asks cordially as she turns toward the living room, aiming to tidy up the clutter some more.

Jiggling the baby a little in her arms again, trying to stay comfortable, Kelly comments, "Elaine has a... different sound," which is such a specific comment, of course. "More... gentle. We've been talking about names, Charlie and me, but there's not much to talk about. If it's a boy, his name is... Charles. Charles the fourth." She pauses, though, making a funny face at Melia - oh, yes, there is some good humour to her - before she asks, "Olivia? What nickname do you like for a baby Charles? Charles is such a fancy name for a little baby."

"Well, let's see. There's always Charlie, but I suppose that might get a mite confusing." The woman stops her tidying, holding a few magazines in her arms for a moment as she ponders. "There's always Chuckie. I've heard that one used, and it does sound right for a child. Or perhaps, hmmm. I believe Carl is also sometimes used." She continues straightening things up, stacking the magazines neatly on the coffee table and then stacking the newspapers neatly beside them. Olivia glances briefly toward the bedroom, but something tells her that it would simply be rude to invade someone's bedroom just for the sake of tidying things up. She takes a seat on the sofa, perched at the edge as she looks toward Kelly with a smile. "What about if it's a girl?" she asks. "Though I still have a feeling it will be a boy, but it never hurts to prepare!"

"I don't mind Chuckie, but I really don't like Chuck, and it would just get shortened, wouldn't it?" Kelly replies, looking down at the baby Melia rather than up at Olivia. She shifts the baby again, now looking a bit more uncomfortable, and looks up at Olivia again. "Well, we haven't discussed names for girls half as much - but you know, I think it would be appropriate to name it after someone, if it's a - well, if it's a she." She pauses, before adding, "His mother's name is Ann, which works as a middle-name with everything, but she's a bit..." She shudders, but doesn't elaborate.

"Well, I suppose if he wanted to, but I imagine Chuckie would stick to him clear through Hogwarts. He could choose after that what he wanted to go by. OF course, you could always go with Carl." She smiles cheerfully to Kelly. "Perhaps someone who meant a lot to you?" Olivia suggests with a slight shrug. "All of ours have middle names from someone in the family, and I think I have some ideas for another girl's name for if I have another girl sometime down the road." Clearly the woman is not opposed to the idea of that. "I'll take her," Olivia tells Kelly, reaching her arms out to receive the baby.

Though she quite happily returns the baby to her mother, Kelly doesn't say anything for a moment, just shifting her weight a little - and, after a moment, placing a hand on the small of her back with a slight cringe. She moves to take a seat on the lounge, taking some of the weight off her feet, before she asks, "How many children could you possibly want? You already have," she glances around, counting, before finishing, "Plenty. I couldn't deal with nearly that many. One - maybe two! - is enough for me."

Olivia shrugs vaguely in answer to this question. "As many as we have," is her very specific answer. "Evan comes from a large family, and I've no problem keeping track of the ones that we have." She pauses. "Though, I'll need my own dedicated office if we have too many more. My cubicle is quite crowded on days when Cybele isn't watching them in the afternoon as it is." She pauses. "There's nothing wrong with having only one or two, though. Lots of people don't have this many. Just happens that we have." Olivia seems quite comfortable in the status of her family. "Evan is the oldest of eight so far, so I suppose it just came with the territory that we would probably also have a large family."

Shrugging her shoulders slightly, Kelly observes, "Charlie is the second-youngest of five, and I'm the second-oldest of four, but believe me, we're still sticking with only one or two." She yawns, raising a hand to her mouth to stifle it, before she continues, "I know it sounds awful to you, you having so many more kids, but I'm thinking of looking into a nanny... so both of us can work, you know, without getting interrupted. I can't imagine a little baby Chuckie tagging along with Charlie at work, know what I mean?" She laughs, lightly, before asking, "However do YOU manage?"

"I suppose every family is different," Olivia replies with a nod. "Before I saw Evan's family, I had no intention of having more than one. Now, I couldn't imagine being without all the children and their, erm, aunts and uncles." She chuckles a bit, having clearly got used to the fact that some of he children are older than their aunts and uncles. "I keep a cradle in my cube," she starts. "And I always have a fair supply of small, quiet toys and little snacks for them. When there was only one or two it worked out alright, but when Arista came along, we hired Cybele to watch them while I'm at work. Some days she can't watch them in the afternoons, and we give her one weekday off as well, so I just have to take each moment as it comes on those days." Olivia shrugs and looks at her children for a moment. "They're fairly well-behaved, though, and I've never hesitated to take them out of the office for a few moments if they get restless. But they got used to it from a young age so
I suppose they're more aclimated to it than another child might be." She pauses for a moment. "I don't know what I would do without Cybele, and then Constance - she's Evan's younger sister - helps me out from time to time, though she's planning her own wedding so I suppose that will be over fairly soon." She sighs a happy sigh. Domesticity is Olivia's whole life, it would seem.

Kelly raises a bit of an eyebrow at this; it's quite plain that she wants rather more than this herself, and she shakes her head slightly at Olivia's happy sigh. "Well, I can't say I'm all that keen," she replies, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "I'd rather keep work a place to get away from them. The problem is, who could we get to watch them? We could rotate between my mother, Ann, Patty, Cassidy, Lenore - but Patty is so young, I doubt she'd want the hassle of a baby, and really, Cassidy and Lenore are still very young, too." She stretches out, shaking her head. "Besides, I don't really want - you know, in /that/ environment."

Though Olivia isn't entirely certain what Kelly is talking about - not being yet privvy to that part of her life's history yet - she nods sympathetically. "I'm sure you could find a reliable nanny. The really experienced ones cost a pretty knut, and they tend to charge based on how often and long you want them to work, and what tasks they'll be expected to perform." Olivia pauses for a moment. "I can take a look and see if I filed away the names and resumes of the nannies that we interviewed before hiring Cybele. She is such a help, really. I'm not sure how my mother-in-law manages - Minister for Magic and all of those children as well?" She shakes her head. "She doesn't even employ a nanny, and I'm sure I'd lose my mind if I didn't. Or at any rate, our home would be a terrible mess." She smiles a bit to Kelly. "There's certainly nothing wrong with having help."

There's a brief scowl that colours Kelly's face at the mention of the house being a mess - for a moment, wondering if that was some directed comment on the state of her apartment - but she relaxes after a moment and smiles again. "We'll work something out. We bought a little bassinet the other day, you know. Would you like to see it?" She begins the slow, awkward process of standing up, one hand on her stomach and the other on the arm of the lounge for leverage. "We decided to set it up in my bedroom, more convenient if he needs feeding in the middle of the night, and apparently there's more dire consequences if we have sleep-deprived aurors running around, so it can't possibly go in Charlie's room." She motions Olivia towards the open bedroom door.

"Certainly!" Olivia agrees, standing fairly easily. There's only a slight trace of surprise as she remembers that she is not the one pregnant in this case. Perhaps she is feeling sympathetic toward Kelly's "plight." "Yes, I could imagine that things might go more wrong if an auror didn't sleep well, though I would hope he's planning to help at least /some/," Olivia comments without judgment. Olivia's eyebrows raise as she realizes that Kelly and Charlie have designated rooms, but not knowing how to ask the question politely, particularly when there are little ears about, a surprised expression is all that she shows. She takes a moment while Kelly readjusts her balance to put Melia back into the sling still over the front of her person.

"On his days off, he'll be handling everything," Kelly announces, pushing the door a little more open and, then, pushing some clothes out of her way, taking a seat on her double-bed. "Will they be alright if we leave them unattended for a moment?" She asks, creasing her brow with concern, and peeking out the door - but it's short-lived as she waves a hand at the bassinet, a delicate, pale blue thing that doesn't especially match her rather bold decor. "Look, isn't it lovely? Apparently it's the latest thing, it's extremely safe, and there's a charm on it -- it'll grow, so there's always just the right amount of space for anything you put in it." She frowns slightly, adding, "I was a bit worried about that, but apparently it's perfectly safe, there's no way for it to just go out of control."

"Oh, I see," Olivia replies, nodding as she follows Kelly. "Oh, certainly. They know not to touch anything that doesn't belong to them. Besides, I'll know if they're getting into something they oughtn't." She sighs happily as she spots the basinette. "Oh, I've heard about those!" she agrees, looking into it and running her fingers along the fabric gently. "We still have the large one that we've had since Chrissy was born. It still works so I don't see the harm in keeping it." She seems particularly interested in the basinette, however, looking over every bit of it for a few minutes. "This is very nice. I can tell it's top quality, and I hear the company that makes them is very reputable. A reader sent in a letter about them, but I hadn't gotten around to doing any investigation about it yet." She smiles. "Are you going to have a mobile for him at all?" Olivia has now just given up calling the baby by a gender-neutral pronoun.

"Well, I suppose this way it doesn't get in the way until you need it to be bigger... and I suppose the baby doesn't get all lost in a bigger one until they're ready to fit?" It's clearly a bit of a guess, but Kelly shrugs her shoulders and continues on, "I never thought about mobiles, do you think they're important? I suppose he'd get bored of looking at nothing... but he's a baby, anything could entertain him." She puts a hand on her stomach, correcting herself, "He's not even a baby yet, but... he will be." She glances over at Olivia, smiling faintly, and adding, "You've been a big help to me."

"I suppose that would be the purpose," Olivia agrees. "It is sensible not to take up more space than necessary, for certain." She nods cheerfully, then starts to ponder. "Well, as they grow older, I believe it helps with their development. If you don't stimulate a child to be interested in its surroundings, how will it learn that it should be?" She nods very strongly at this. "Besides, they're something to look at while you try to get a cranky child to sleep." She grins a little bit. "We got one that was Quidditch brooms when Chrissy was born, then I found one of dragons. Arista had the Quidditch brooms, too, and now we've been given one that swirls different colors around depending on the time of day for Melia." She pauses as Kelly makes her statement about the child-to-be's baby-ness. "Of /course/ it's a baby," she comments. "Haven't you felt it kicking and all of that? It's certainly a baby." As Kelly gives Olivia what the woman would consider to be the highest compliment,
she blushes a bit, her cheeks turning a beet-y red. "I'm glad to have helped. I enjoy helping where I can, especially with things like this. I have a fair bit of experience, after all." She laughs a bit nervously, as if she isn't quite sure how to receive compliments, even still.

"It's almost a baby," Kelly replies, in a vaguely agreeable tone. "I'm not sure if he's really a baby until I can see him... until then, he's just very uncomfortable." She looks around the room idly, before shrugging her shoulders slightly and adding, "I suppose a mobile would be nice... depends on what it is, nothing sickly baby-ish like cutsey little animals or something. Swirls or something could be nice." She doesn't say any more about the compliment, just letting it hang there.

"Perhaps you could find a lovely one with magical creatures on it. Unicorns, hippogryffs... perhaps a kneazle or two," Olivia's own mind seems to have wandered to the possibilities of mobiles that could be that she hasn't even seen yet. "That would be interesting to watch for a while anyway. The lights are nice, but they've been putting me to sleep a bit," Olivia admits slightly sheepishly, as if admitting this makes her a less than wonderful mother. At this moment, Melia begins to fuss a bit, and Olivia looks down at her thoughtfully. "Oh dear. It's time for her to eat again." She pauses, as if considering that it would be worth it to try to feed her in a stranger's home, then seemlingly decides against it. "I had better get going before this becomes more than hungry. I wouldn't want you to be frightened so soon with a full-on tantrum." She chuckles to herself, apparently finding this quite amusing. At this, the woman begins to move slowly toward the main living area once ag
ain.

"Well, I was thinking about having that nap," Kelly replies, a little uncertainly, hefting herself off the bed again and following Olivia out into the main living area. "I'll go through those things, and - I don't know, would you like me to return anything that I don't - I mean, that I can't use?" Just in time, she manages to correct herself before saying something a bit tactless. She stands back a bit uncertainly, glancing at each of the children in turn, and then at the door. "Charlie will be surprised when he comes back, he'll think I've cleaned up everything..."

"Oh, certainly. Wait until after the baby comes, of course. There are some different sizes in there - I wasn't sure how big he might be, so I put in a variety. When you come back to work you can return them. I'm not in any great need at the moment." Olivia smiles pleasantly as she gets her children out of their game and ready to go once again. "You don't have to tell him that you didn't, of course," Olivia tells her with a slightly sly grin. "But you might look over some of my columns. One of those magazines in particular has a good column about organization. I imagine you'll find it helpful once the baby arrives!" She nods cheerfully, then looks at her three children. "Well, it has been nice visiting, but we'd better be off. I hope you'll have a pleasant nap." With this, she makes her way toward the door, slightly awkwardly as only Jason is tall enough to actually reach her hand without the necessity to stoop. After a moment, she steps out, and, offering a wave to Kelly, she
closes the door behind her.

Operation: Impending Doom

It's late evening and the buzz of the school life is starting to quiet down even if there are still older students out and about doing various chores, homework, or gossiping. For her part Astra's retreated to the quiet of her private quarters instead of her usual rounds of checking the castle, the grounds and heading to her office or to some other diversion. Having pulled out a few glasses and a bottle of brandy she pours out a glass for herself more as something to do with her hands than to actually drink Pacing as she waits for the expected arrival of her son the papers she's been reviewing since before supper are sitting out on the table.

Rapping twice on the door, Seker Rathe makes his way into the room before he's properly acknowledged, only because he was summoned here specifically. "Good evening, mother," he says upon sight of Astra, smiling faintly. Stepping up to the woman he's now taller than, he fairly offers himself up for inspection as he adds, "How's the new school year?"

"Bothersome as always, but only because I'm not teaching." Grousing about her position the woman stands there with the snifter in hand and eyes the now-young-man with a gritty appraisal. "I'm glad you finally came to visit. You know, you and Satinka *are allowed and encouraged* to come by and visit your old and very-out-of-date-and-probably-embarrassing mother. Waving her hand to dismiss the topic she gesture to the table, "Feel free to help yourself." Wandering back to the table even as the offer is spoken Astra picks up the papers and reviews them again, only now drinking from her own glass. "I hear you're finally taking your rightful place in the family." Looking up sharply to her son she offers a smile, "I was beginning to worry you wouldn't settle down and choose a profession. I'm pleased and so is grandfather."

Seker's ears turn a bit pink as Astra insinuates about his and his sister's absence. He never thought that his mother would be the type to miss her children, but pondering it now, he supposes he could picture it. "Actually mum, even I haven't seen much of Satinka lately." Truth is, he hasn't seen much of anyone. He's been too busy making a starting stock of violins to sell, but he doesn't say this. His mother would probably only encourage him to get out more, something he has no desire to do at the moment. Pouring himself a modest glass of brandy, he sits down and looks to Astra. "I didn't feel like I was talented enough to sell my violins yet," he admits, a bit sheepishly. "But it's been going well enough I suppose. I've only sold one violin so far. It doesn't seem like very much, but I guess that violin is a fairly hard instrument. Not many people rise to the challenge," he remarks with a nod and a sip of his cup. "I'm glad you and grandfather approve, though," he adds quie
tly, earnestly.

"Grandfather less so but I told him to shut his gob and mind his own business. He'd rather have you placed in the Ministry, but you will do better where you are. Your temperament is far more artistic in nature." Astra was the dry to Blair's sweet and never one to overly dote, but there are times when she did and now is one of those times in her own manner. "You'll do well, but don't give up and give it time. You're younger than most and with time, patience, and practice you'll become a master at what you do. You're a Rathe. It's in your blood to excel and be a leader in whatever you choose to do." There's certainly no humility in those words and clearly the woman believes them wholeheartedly no matter how arrogant they might sound to an outsider. Finally taking a seat she doesn't lean back or kick her feet up on the table as is her wont, but instead she sits forward and in an expectant pose. "Before I get to the exact business I've wanted to discuss," here she sips at the liq
uor, "tell me something. Do you want the tattoos? You've stepped up with one duty and now you've earned the right to bear them if it's your desire. I'll just need to arrange the rite with your grandfather."

"Da-dum da-dee-da, da-da-da-dum," The sound of a man humming to himself is audible before Quintus Helit steps out of the room, a dark blue dressing gown wrapped around his large body and cinched tightly at the waist with a paler blue silk rope. His feet are bare, and his first words to Astra plainly indicate that he was not expecting company - "I know you're not such a fan, but I still prefer you in wh -" he cuts himself off there, eying Seker, and considering him silently for a moment, adopting a considerably more stoic expression before adding, stiffly, "Master Rathe; it's a pleasure."

"What is the rite?" Seker asks quickly, almost fearfully -- once more a child but just for a flash. "I mean, well, yes, I want the tattoos," he says, sitting a bit straighter after his mother's encouraging words. The woman's opinion of him is everything to the young man and to hear that he's within her graces only makes him wish that he'd steeled himself and opened the shop sooner. To hear that Gerald Rathe would have preferred him in the Ministry is no surprise to him, but Seker agrees that he would hardly have been useful there. Seker looks to his mother, awaiting her reply before he hears Quintus' humming, and then, sees the man. Seker reflexively turns away as if seeing something he shouldn't be, and has to force himself to reply. "Mr. Helit," he says curtly, still not quite used to the relationship between his mother and the man. "Er, good evening," he adds.

"Oh by my great-grandfather's whiskers you two are as bad as ever!" Rolling her eyes and standing up, papers still in one hand and brandy snifter in the other Astra takes a drink before walking over to Quintus with a small smile. "Don't you remember I sent for Seker?" Then fretting over something she furrows her brows, "No. Damn it. I'm sorry dear. There's been so much going on lately it slipped my mind to tell you." Handing the drink off to the older man she hints at a smile, "I'm sorry." She certainly has never easily apologized in public, but here between family members it is another matter. "You two should get used to each other anyway and I suppose now is as good a time as any." Turning back to Seker she does lean in slightly to Quintus as she wraps the hand holding the papers around her stomach. "The rite? I don't know dear, I'm not a man but I've been pestering father for the tattoos for years. Maybe he'll finally buckle and allow me to have them?" "I don't think it is
/terribly/ painful, but I know it takes place over about a week. They're rather large."

Raising an eyebrow at the two Rathes, Quintus is silent for a moment - before he confirms for his fiancee, "No, no, you didn't seem to feel the need to mention that." He considers Seker for a moment, stiffly correcting him, "Professor Helit." Without asking for permission to do so, he moves to pour himself a class of some spirit, before taking a seat and watching the two silently.

Simply nodding, Seker mulls over the idea quickly but doesn't wind up recanting. "Alright." He's seen the tattoo on his grandfather before, and always hoped he'd have one to match. He bragged to Satinka about it once, but she didn't seem very broken up that she'd not be allowed to get one, too. Regarding Quintus as he pours his drink, Seker shrinks back only slightly and repeats, "Professor. Sorry." A silence ensues for a moment before Seker glances up to Astra and asks, "Is that what you wanted to ask me about? The tattoos?" Given Quintus' attire, he doesn't want to linger unduly lest he be interrupting other plans. As his mind wanders, he actually shakes his head. Don't go there, Seker!

"Darling, surely /he/ can call you Quintus now? We're to be married and this whole thing is rather oddly formal given that he's my /son/." Shaking her head again a small sort of sigh flutters from Astra's lips and then she addresses her son. "Hm? Oh no that was side business really, but I'll set it up with father. You should get those as soon as possible really. Especially now." Those two words carry a weight that the previous chatter didn't have. Wandering back to the sitting area she lowers herself into a chair and leans forward again, this time extending the papers to Seker. "I won't force this upon you, but as you and your sister have yet to see fit to do your real duty to the family I've decided to take action. It's high time one of you do your familial duty to provide the next generation and since neither of you seem inclined to take a suitable spouse I thought you would have an easier time with it than your sister. Children are more a burden to women than to men and wi
th a wife to bear them for you it spares your sister of that pain." "It's a contract for marriage with the Marqueen family."

There's a soft, "Oh," from Quintus as Astra begins speaking about the contract, and he steps in before Seker can say anything with a somewhat exasperated, "He STILL doesn't know about this?!" He glances at Seker, apparently judging for evidence of being shocked, before he shakes his head and adds, "If you do this to our children, I'll be telling them promptly. I hope you realise that." He shoots Seker another glance, this one rather more sympathetic; he's met Vilivia by now, and looks concerned for what the poor young man is getting himself into.

'Taken aback' would be a bit of an understatement. Seker got a cold feeling of foreboding as his mum leaned in, and now that feeling has more or less hit him in the face. Astra's earlier speech of being proud of Seker's profession is forgotten for the moment as Seker stares, unseeing, at the paper in front of him. Probably half a minute goes by before the young man even moves. When he does, it's to look at Quintus and shrug meekly. He's too stunned about the contract to properly process Quintus' implication of children between he and his mother. Now, he looks to Astra and replies, "Contract for marriage," flatly. "Well..." he starts, now looking more closely at the paper. "It's... well this is quite... sudden. I don't suppose I can think it over, can I?" he asks, surely feeling like his life is being turned upside down. He admittedly hasn't been thinking about getting married, especially now, as he's starting up his new shop.

Stiffening at her fiance's words Astra almost looks affronted. "First, there was the matter of the dowry to attend and then there was the matter that I had a /school year/ coming up and then the Board breathing down my back. I haven't had the time I need to see to this business as I ought to have and father's been busy in his own right so I couldn't ask him." Continuing, "Quintus, dear, if we have children they won't have to deal with any of this. They'll be taking your name and not mine." Then, as if that settles things she addresses Seker's concerns. "I would rather that you put your name to this contract as soon as possible to make the betrothal legal, but I suppose I could give you a little time to think on it. Dear, it really would be good for the family and the marriage wouldn't happen for another seven years. That's plenty of time to settle into the idea and start building toward family life. The girl *is* only eleven." None of this seems to faze Astra in the least, mu
ch less the idea of the age difference. "She's from good stock, she'll take care of your home, she'll bear you many children, and raise them for you. Plus, the Marqueens have promised us one-hundred and ten acres to add to our estate - land that will be yours and your children's no matter who becomes the heir. In addition, they've agreed to cover half the costs of building and outfitting your own family home on said land. It's a good investment dear, please think it over. It would be good for us politically."

His expression now changing as he turns to look at Astra, Quintus raises an eyebrow and shakes his head slightly. "Are you saying you wouldn't want our children to marry well unless they are named Rathes?" He pauses for a moment, before adding, in a more compromising tone, "Granted, my older siblings have already carried on the family line, but really, is that any way to approach the issue? I thought you liked being controlling." He glances back to Seker, barely able to conceal a smirk as he adds, "Besides, boy - young man, Seker, she's better than your current options, she won't stop talking about how fantastic you are, and how many wives and girlfriends will do that? I'm sure she'd be quite a catch if someone could ever teach her how to shut up."

"Eleven?" Seker says, a bit louder than he intends. That changes things. It makes her... well, eleven years /younger/ than him. "So, this won't happen for a while," he says, more to himself. Still, he's listened closely to the rest, and Seker nods at what Astra says to him. Despite his shock, he's vaguely aware that his mother has probably never called him 'dear' so much in one sitting before; she must really want this. Shifting in his seat, Seker sips once more at his brandy and looks to Quintus. "She knows about it already? Oh..." he says. Considering it though, he's oddly flattered. She really thinks he's fantastic? Quintus has a point. No girls seem to gush over him presently. And he doesn't mind talkers. If the girl could fill an awkward silence, it meant that he wouldn't have to. After a final look to his mother, he merely says, "Have you got a quill?"

"Oh hush you," directing a fond look at Quintus. "I was as bad as she was at that age but not so stuck on love. She's sure to grow out of it in time." "As for any children we /might/ have," putting the emphasis directly on the word, "I won't *need* to worry about them marrying well. They aren't going to inherit and they aren't going to be Rathe. They'll be able to marry as they like unless *you* take issue. If I didn't fulfill this duty toward the family my father would step in and who knows who *he'd* pick out." Giving a slight shudder at the very idea she settles back only a little, but not enough to be casual. Beaming at Seker as if he's the world's greatest gift Astra stands up and crosses the room quickly. Retrieving a box, she presents it almost with formality and opens it up. Inside is nestled a quill pen crafted from a swan's feather the nib itself magically enhanced against common breakage. An inkpot, unopened, holds a small quantity of golden ink. "Thank you Seker
. You've settled the matter of the next generation and put my mind at ease." "Grandfather will be thrilled and I couldn't be happier - or prouder."

"Of course she knows," Quintus confirms for Seker, "because darling Vilivia's father can't keep his mouth shut - or because, perhaps," he adds, a little grudgingly, "they knew that you would rise to the occasion and everything would work out for the best." He sips at his own beverage, his gaze flickering between the two, before adding, this time directed at Astra, "We'll wait and see if anyone good enough for them comes along." He turns his glass this way and that, his eyes now drifting to the liquid therein, watching the way it moves from side to side carefully.

Nervously, Seker picks the quill out of its nest and unscrews the inkpot. He smiles back to his mother, though it surely wouldn't be described by most as 'beaming'. "To the Rathes," he says, hesitating only briefly before dipping the quill and signing his name in a small, slightly cramped but perfectly legible hand. Seker Rathe -- it reads quite plainly now, and the young man looks upon it, inhaling as he wipes off the quill and replaces it in its box. "It's good for us politically," Seker repeats his mother's words to Quintus as if the reason is more than good enough a reason to sign the rest of his life to. Sitting back as well, Seker looks to his pocketwatch and then to his mother. "Well, I trust /that/ wasn't side business," he says, trying to lift the tension he feels.

There is a hint of sorrow to that otherwise happy expression that Astra carries. "Duty is as heavy as a mountain." It's all she says for the time as she retrieves the quill box and ink, placing everything back carefully and returning it to the shelf from which it was plucked. "Thank you Seker. I know that it's a heavy burden I ask of you to marry for politics rather than love." Finding her snifter she returns to the chair and nestles back into it now far more casually than ever. "I wish most marriages were for love," hear she turns to smile at Quintus, "but those are rare and few and not without their own set of troubles." Turning back to the young man she raises her glass at him, "May you give us plenty of children." With that she takes a hearty swallow and then adds, "I fully expect you'll want a lover or two on the side," as if this is a perfectly *normal* conversation topic after the business is completed. "Just be discreet and use an infertility charm. I shouldn't want t
o deal with the trouble of bastard Rathe running around born from who-knows-what-heritage."

"And if you get a start before you're married," Quintus continues this line of thought, his expression and tone extremely serious, "make sure you're the one to cast the charm yourself, even if she insists that she is already making efforts to ensure that a child does not result. That is a common trick to get an uncertain man into a marriage, and if you fall for that, then you will have to marry her for being so foolish." He sips at his drink again, looking up at Astra and adding, a little softly, "I wouldn't suppose they are all that rare... would you?"

Nodding at first, and then blushing a little at the thought of 'plenty of children', Seker drains his glass at the toast, and sets it down lightly. He doesn't, for the time, feel too badly about not marrying for love. After all, there was a chance he'd never fall in love. If he waited for that to happen, he might disappoint his family. And that was far worse than marrying for politics. Seker actually feels strangely secure in this arrangement, the more he thinks about it. It's as if something looming has been taken care of. He balks at the next words of the two adults though. A lover, or /two/ on the side? Seker stands up abruptly, thoroughly embarrassed, and checks his watch again, but this time, only for show. "Yes! Yes, well, I'll be sure to do that. Err, not be lured into another marriage, that is. Well mother, Professor," he says, nodding once to each, "I best be going. Oh--" he stops as he thinks of one last thing. "When do I, um, meet her?"

"Among my family they are. Among most purebloods they are. It's a rare and lucky thing if a pureblood manages to find love *and* a suitable marriage. Like Martin, he's lucky in that way but most of us aren't. We're either tied to a marriage we'd rather not be part of, we compromise for our families, we take lovers, or we have children out of wedlock. Sometimes any number of those combined." Astra considers her son's discomfort as he suddenly stands up and looks amused. "Listen to Quintus on this one. It's true and if any young woman comes along thinking she can snare /my/ son she has another thing coming." Then, in response to his question, "Hopefully soon." "I'd like to have a betrothal feast as is common in these matches, but that might have to wait until Christmas holiday. However, if you'd like I could arrange a smaller affair first? Perhaps tea here with the two of you if you like?"

Quintus raises his glass to Seker with just a faint hint of a smirk, now, nodding his head slightly. "That would be even worse than having a child through an affair once you're married; both would be awful, but at least if you're married you have plausible deniability, and you're merely an irresponsible cad. If you have a child and have to marry another woman before you're married, then you've just ruined your mother's contract as well as being an irresponsible cad." He drinks down the last of his drink, falling silent at this point - waiting for Astra and Seker to finish making their plans/.

Freezing up a bit at the initial thought that a betrothal feast would be the first time he'd meet his betrothed, Seker eases noticeably when Astra mentions an intimate tea. "Yes, the second. If you could arrange that, I'd be much obliged. I have to admit, I'm quite curious." In fact, Seker will have a hard time not thinking about it, but try he will, lest he be too nervous for that important first impression especially if Vilivia already thought highly of him. "In any case, I should be going. Have a good evening," Seker says, shutting the door on his way out and sighing once he is.

A Bout of Homesickness

It's afternoon in late September, and the sun is starting to sink in the sky, though it is still quite bright out. Indira Montgomery has found her way into the northern clearing, an area currently barren of other students or any discernible human life but her at this very moment. The girl is seated with her back toward the school and some various books and things spread about around her, but instead of paying any attention to those things, she is crouched up with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head down. A perceptive person happening by might notice a bit of parchment in one hand and the corner of an indigo colored blanket sneaking out from her arms.

Enjoying the September air, Sookie Aldridge skips onto the clearing, beaming. The warmth of the sunshine, the smell of the grass, and the slight breeze in the air, just broaden the girl's smile. She's carrying a few books in her arms, but being outside isn't about the books. "Crying cockles and muscles! Alive! Alive, oh!" she sings merrily, and then very quickly clamps her mouth shuts as she notices Indira. Her cheeks turn crimson and she stifles a giggle while apologizing, "I'm sorry for being so loud--" She notices the blanket and raises a single eyebrow, while pointing to it, "What's that?"

Indira looks up in shock, staring briefly with wide eyes at Sookie, then wiping her face quickly. "It's nothing," she snaps quickly and pulls the blanket in closer to her in an attempt to hide it. "What are you doing all the way out here?" she asks, not in an accusatory way but mostly as if she wants to know how someone found her 'secret' hiding place. Indira doesn't move at all except to attempt to hide the blanket, and she ends up looking away after a big sniffle gives away her own purpose for being so far out in the clearing.

Sookie plops cross-legged down on the grass (apparently she's staying awhile?) and cranes her neck, trying to see the blanket. "Obviously it's /something/." She offers the other girl a half-smile, "Well, I like the quiet is all." Her smile broadens, "Some of my housemates are really chatty and sometimes I don't want to talk, so I come outside." She shrugs and then moistens her lips. "Why are you out here?" she tilts her head.

"Well, uh..." Indira starts, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her robe, stalling for a minute as if she doesn't want to actually admit why she's here. "I was, uh, I was doing school work," she tells her yearmate with a vague shrug, hoping the girl won't notice her blotchy, tear-stained face. "You're right it's quiet out here. I haven't heard anybody out here all..." she trails off, staring hard at the grass in front of her as if she's forgotten the rest of her sentence. "Af--- afternoon," she finally finishes, shaking her head a bit.

A frown pulls Sookie's lips downward as she gets sinking feeling in her stomach. "Are you--" she hesitates because she doesn't know Indira very well "--Are you alright?" She bites her bottom lip as her frown deepens. "Did something happen?" She blinks a couple of times.

"No, I'm fine!" Indira protests, her voice quivering a bit as she says it. This voice quiver seems to bring on a fresh flood of tears and she looks at Sookie again and then sniffles loudly. "I miss my mummy and daddy," she finally admits after a long pause. "And Jasper and Lawson are too busy for-- for-- for-- meee..." she drops the parchment onto the ground and snuggles into her blanket again, rocking back and forth a little bit as she tries to calm herself down.

Sookie slides over to Indira to wrap her arm around the girl's shoulder. "It's okay to cry," she soothes. "I miss my mummy too." She frowns a bit and feels her own eyes welling with tears. Blinking the tears back, she swallows hard. "It's hard being away from home." With a sigh, she then forces a smile, "But there's good things too. Like the classes are really neat. . . and. . ." she looks up in the sky like another positive thought will come out of thin air ". . . the castle's really neat. . . and some of the people are friendly--"

"I guess the castle's okay," Indira agrees and sniffs hard. "But they give you all this /homework/ and you have to do all these assignments and there are so many strangers, and I miss my sister and I want my bedroom..." She pauses. "And then there was that mean boy on the boats, too, and he's around in some of my classes, it's just /awful/." She hiccups and sniffs noisily again. "I don't think I'll /ever/ get used to it!"

Considering this, Sookie tilts her head and then forces a smile. "But the homework is learning to do some incredible things! I wish I could've known about them before coming!" Her eyes brighten, "And I'm sure you have /some/ friends in your house." She nods at this and then considers, "And I know back in my smalltown we had some mean boys at school, so I'm pretty sure they're everywhere." She presses her lips together, "But I bet the mean boy didn't mean to be mean. People sometimes don't think of things." She wrinkles her nose and then adds, "A girl called me a Mudblood, but only because she didn't know not to--"

"I guess maybe he was nervous, too," Indira agrees and sniffles some more. "I just don't know what to do. Nobody has played chess with me yet, even. I love chess! My brothers won't even play it with me, and I have nothing to do but stupid /homework/, which isn't really any fun. They try to make it sound fun but I don't really like it." She sighs and snuggles her blanket a little bit, rubbing her eyes on it and leaning her face on it to help comfort herself. She looks at Sookie. "/Who/ called you that?" the girl asks with wide eyes. "Did she do it in front of a /teacher/? Oh my, that's such a bad thing to say around grownups!"

"I'll play chess with you!" Sookie enthuses. "I can't say I've played much," Or at all, "but I would love to play with you! I'm sure people would like to play with you--you just have to go offer! You can't always wait for people to invite you. /You/ can invite /them/!" She offers the girl another smile. "Brothers can be annoying like that sometimes. Believe me--I have two of them, both younger." She sighs, remembering Vilivia calling her that, "It was a girl who I think might be my friend now. She really didn't know better. And no, there weren't any grownup around."

"Well, I guess as long as she knows not to call you that now it's okay," Indira nods, her mood seeming to perk up as she talks to someone. "I could teach you how to play. I play a lot with my daddy. I can even beat him sometimes!" She smiles a little bit and wipes her eyes on her robe sleeve again. "My brothers are older. They told me they're too busy with their own friends to play with their stupid little sister." The girl frowns a bit at that. "But I'm going to tell mummy and daddy when I write to them next and see what they say then. I have a little sister, too. Her name's Kala. Do you have any sisters?"

"Yeah, she knows now. I don't think she'll be using that word again--at least not for a long time," Sookie agrees. She beams when Indira says she could teach her, "I would really like that! I haven't really played chess before, but I do enjoy games!" She nods, "I have one little sister--Willow." And then she furrows her eyebrows a bit, "I bet you'll make lots of friends of your own and then /you'll/ be the one too busy to spend time with /them/." She giggles at this as she scrunches her nose. "I'm the eldest of four."

"I suppose you're right," Indira agrees, then she is silent for a lengthy moment. "What was I talking about?" she fianlly asks Sookie, her cheeks turning red as she asks the question. "Oh, right! I'm the oldest /girl/," she states, shrugging one shoulder a bit. She manages to relax enough, apparently, to sit crosslegged instead of having her legs drawn up so close to her. "But there are four of us, too. Lawson is the oldest, he's in Hufflepuff, then Jasper is in Gryffindor, and Kala is three years younger than me." She smiles a little bit, sniffling only a little bit now as she cheers up a bit. "I love games so much. I even love listening to Quidditch on the wireless. Do you like Quidditch?"

Tilting her head, Sookie puzzles over Quidditch. "I've heard that word before--Quidditch--but didn't know what it was. What is it exactly?" Frowning a bit, she lays down on the grass. "I like all kinds of games though," her frown is displaced by a smile once again. "I'm Muggleborn, so I don't know very much about the wizarding world, but I am learning. A lot!"

"Oh, oh, right," Indira responds and nods, as if she had totally forgotten that Sookie was a muggleborn. "Well, it's this game, and it's played on brooms. And you fly around and there are the chasers and they try to get the quaffle through those big hoops -have you seen the Quidditch pitch? Those are the hoops that I mean. And then the beaters try to keep these things called bludgers from hitting their players but instead hitting the players on the other team, and there's the seeker. The seeker tries to catch the snitch. That's the best position. The snitch is worth 150 points so if it's caught it's a really good thing for that team because it's worth so much." Indira takes a deep breath as she finishes the explanation. "Anyway, it's really brilliant. I try to listen on the wireless whenever mummy and daddy let me," she responds with a bit of a smile. "I think Jasper wants to try out this year, but I doubt he'll make it. He's only a second year and surely there are better pla
yers than him." She shrugs vaguely at this comment.

"I don't think I've ever seen a Quidditch pitch," Sookie sits up again. "How would I know if I had? Does it say Quidditch on it somwhere?" She tilts her head again. "So . . . Beaters and Seekers are positions, then? Is it at all like football?" She grins at Indira's excitement about the whole game. "Well it sounds exciting! I wish I could see a game sometime." She wrinkles her nose and then asks, "They have a team /here/?"

"Oh yes! There are keepers, they guard the posts, and then the chasers, and beaters and the seeker - there's only one seeker on each team. "Each house has its own team. I want to watch the tryouts this year. I don't think I'll be able to play, but I'd love to see a live game. Mummy and Daddy have gone to Quidditch games, but they never took me." She looks crestfallen as she admits this. "Football?" Indira asks with a puzzled expression. "What's football?" she asks the other girl curiously.

Sookie squeals with delight at the notion of being able to see a live Quidditch game, "I bet it's one of those sports that really must be watched to be understood." "Well football is this game that Muggles play where they kick a ball around on the ground and two opposite teams try to score goals on each other in nets on either side of the field. Each team has a goalkeeper, some fullbacks, some midfielders, and a few forwards." She grins. "No one can use their hands--it's an-other-body-parts only game, but mostly feet. My youngest brother likes to headbutt the ball to get it down to his feet."

"Really, they don't use their hands or brooms or anything?" Indira looks puzzled at the whole concept. "And all they do is just kick it around?" She pauses and considers this for a moment. "Maybe you could teach me. It must be more fun than it sounds, if muggles persist in playing it..." She shrugs and giggles a little bit, fussing with her small blanket a little bit and starting to tuck it carefully into her pocket, as if she hopes that by being subtle, Sookie won't notice what she's up to. "Maybe we can watch the trials together and I can tell you what's going on. I don't know when the first ones are, though," Indira admits.

"I'd like watching the trials with you! I really don't know anything at all and having someone who understands the game would be really helpful," Sookie chimes excitedly. "So. . . do your brothers know much about the castle? Or do you?" She shrugs a bit, "What I know is what they told us in our letters and at the Sorting feast. Oh and I know that going into the forest is a /very/ bad idea." She nods sagely at this.

"I guess they do, but they won't tell me much about anything," she tells the other girl, sighing a little bit. "I heard from daddy that the forest is /very/ dangerous, though, and that only evil things are in there. But I also heard there are unicorns in there. They're supposed to be /very/ beautiful and good, so it can't be /so/ bad, can it?" Indira bites her lip in thought. "I suppose we'd better not go in there yet, just in case. I mean, I think it would be best to know how to defend ourselves first. Don't you think?" She shrugs. "I hear there are secret passages in the castle, though. I haven't found any /yet/ but I did try looking for one or two."

"Hmmmm. Maybe it's because they want it to be a surprise--plus I bet we can figure out more than your brothers know about the castle. /Everyone/ knows girls are very good at finding out stuff," Sookie half-smiles with a wink. "I'd love to see a unicorn! But. . . when Charlotte and I asked Professor Helit and the Headmistress abou tthe forest they said there were things in there that would eat bone marrow or something." She nods. "I want to go in, but you're right, we need to know how to use our wands and such first." The girls peeks around for any wandering eyes or listening ears and lowers her voice, "We should plan a trip into the forest when we know enough. In like. . . our third year." Because third years are /so/ knowledgeable in all things, right? "I will help you look for a secret passage!!"

"Oh, yes, in our third year we'll know /plenty/ to be able to go into the forest!" Indira agrees, now getting excited. "You know, I bet if we studied /really/ hard, we could learn lots to be able to go in without any worries. Don't you think?" The girl ponders this for a minute, reaching out to twirl a bit of grass around her finger. "I read in a book the other day that there was something near the lake, I think." She seems to go into a reverie for a moment, then looks straight up into the sky. "Hey, it's getting kind of dark. Do you suppose we've missed supper? Hmm..." She shakes her head a bit, then looks at Sookie, narrowing her eyes as she tries to figure out what it was that she was talking about before. "Oh, maybe tomorrow afternoon we can look around by the lake and see if we can find the secret place! I don't really know what it is, just that I heard there was something nearby."

"I think we will both be such great witches that evil creepy crawlies would run away from us," Sookie beams as she stands to her feet and brushes off her robes. "Oooo! Let's do that tomorrow for sure! By the end of this year, I'll bet we'll have discovered everything there is to know about this castle and its grounds." "I bet if we race to the castle we could still catch supper. . ." Sookie glances up at the sky. And then her eyes twinkle, "I'll race you--" She begins running towards the castle to the Great Hall for dinner.

Gasping in shock, Indira takes just a moment to realize that Sookie has run off toward the school. "Hey, wait!" She calls, and hastily picks up all of her things which she has scattered about in her previous emotional turmoil. Indira is well behind Sookie as she runs after the girl. "No fair!" She calls, laughing loudly as she tries to catch up to her yearmate and new friend.