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GLESNI CARROW
Location: Hogwarts Castle - Potion Master's Office
Time of day: Sunday morning
Interactions:
Ravena Fawley - NPC
Virgilius Hildegard - Own Character
Mentions:
Caleb O'Neill - @DayDreamer
She delayed it before breakfast for later. Then, ‘later’ came, and she was still delaying the inevitable. It wasn’t like Glesni to chicken out of something she had set her mind on. But this wasn’t just anything, and no matter how she’d flip it, there wasn’t an easy way in and out of it.
“Talk to her. Trust me.”
She insisted so many times that it was now embedded in Glesni’s head.
“Talk. To. Her.” The paper insisted again. And again.
No.
Hours after Glesni finally compromised with “I’ll think about it,” the paper bled through for the first time that morning.
“And?”
She stared at Barch, flapping his wings a few times, making himself comfortable in his spacious cage.
“And,” she wrote. “I’ve got a better idea.”
It was minutes ago, and Ravena had nothing else to say. And even if she did, the notebook was stored, and Glesni was already out, heading down the dungeon’s hallway. In front of a massive, old, wooden door, she hesitated again, but just for a moment.
Where to start? Well. How about a…
***
Knock, knock, knock.
Three times against the door. Confident. Nothing to connect her presence with the knot inside her stomach, and yet, somehow, it felt obvious.
“Yes? Come in,” the voice offered immediately after. Inhaling deeply once more, Glesni pushed the handle and entered into a spacious room. She wasn’t there to see how professor Hildegard indeed did wonders to the place. To her, it was the office with a confusing, if a slightly over-the-top way of entry. Somehow, it reached all the crucial points in the castle, so professor Hildegard was never late. But no matter which door you’d pass through to the Potion Master’s office, you would still end up entering at the same spot.
“Good morning, Professor,” she greeted with a confident stance and a proud smirk. The usual. Virgil offered her a quick glance of recognition over his glasses and a nod. “Miss Carrow! What a lovely surprise. Good morning.” The sound of the vials clanking as he proceeded to re-arrange them on the high shelf felt calming. Nothing about the man ever made any ruckus - not even the noise of the annual cleanup. She waited as he double-checked the list in his hand and nodded in approval. “My apologies, miss Carrow,” He addressed her again, descending the ladder while a few exhausted vials floated down after him. “Please, have a seat.” And not a moment too soon.
“Thank you.” Making sure not to rush towards the armchair desperately, Glesni still added as much haste to her step as possible. Once sat, she exhaled with relief. There was something about the armchairs she found comforting and safe. Perhaps it was a way they prevented fidgeting and side glances that gave a needed confidence boost. You could not maybe be a coward in an armchair. You either obviously were, or obviously weren’t. Regardless of the knot, Glesni liked to believe she obviously wasn’t.
The last vial was carefully levitated down into the box. A measured-out pair of steps passed the armchair on their way to the opposite side of a large desk. Professor Hildegard sat, adjusting his seat. “Should I assume this is about your re-applying to the Advanced Class?” He asked casually enough for Glesni to respond with a perplexed look on her face.
“I… will be re-applying, but that’s not the reason why-”
She stopped once she had realized. It was an opening, not a distraction. Studying her face briefly, Virgil leaned back into his chair, placing hands in his lap.
“How may I be of assistance, miss Carrow?”
Professor Hildegard’s direct approach was something she much appreciated. It had allowed her to be just as straightforward, and being brief meant getting it over with sooner.
“Have you managed to talk to O’Neill yet?”
“I am afraid not. Should’ve I?” Virgil asked with genuine curiosity.
“Well,” Glesni lowered her gaze down at the table as she responded. “I think he might be in trouble… Or was in one. At least.” Virgil processed her response and nodded at the end of it. “I see. And why is this any different than all other troubles mister O’Neill was, is, and will be a part of?”
“This one is serious.” And perhaps it was intended to shock him right then and there. Nevertheless, instead of prying further into it, Virgil stared at the girl with an extensive lack of amusement as if he was just told that the sky is blue. Shocker. “Miss Carrow,” he encouraged further, leaning forward against the table. “There are only a few reasons I can think of for a student to come to visit me on Sunday morning, and even fewer reasons for you to do so. Less than that, if we consider it is about Caleb O’Neill.” He paused, letting it sink in. “So yes, I am aware that the issue at hand is serious; otherwise, you would not be here at this moment.” She exhaled. A tell-tale sign that Glesni Carrow was cornered and ready to talk.
“O’Neill got caught in a fire. The fire,” she emphasized and watched as Virgil’s face lowered in an inquisitorial frown. Glesni was aware it may be everything of a reaction she would get from a man, but it was enough to encourage her to keep going. “The reason why you haven’t seen him yet is that he took a hit, and he is hiding. Only a few of us had seen it so far. I think. Still, he only has until tomorrow before it inevitably goes out in front of everyone else.” The good part of it all was that he could connect the previously known information to the face. The bad part was the most evident one; he was a Hogwarts student, and fellow students talked.
“And if it does…” Glesni proceeded when Virgil said nothing.
“It inevitably will,” professor Hildegard cut through the current and all the other ‘ifs’ to follow. Pieces were stacked neatly in his mind, and while they did, Glesni grew gradually impatient with his silence. He didn’t miss out on the fact that that was the case. He never did anything to point it out either. “Thank you, miss Carrow,” he spoke up after a while. “I will make sure I speak to mister O’Neill. If that is what would make you feel better.” Aware of the girl’s cheeks turning a barely visible shade of pink, Virgil played out the obliviousness, patiently waiting. Unexpectedly, Glesni missed out on the opportunity to elaborate on it. Instead, she brought the subject straight back to the matter at hand, staring down with a frown, somewhere between the concern and the anger.
“They will come for him. Won’t they?” Glesni asked crudely. “They always come for them.”
Silence and another glance over the glasses were threatening to throw her right into suspension. Her impatience was building up towards its cap. Yet, the professor seemed to be in no rush at all. Just how much did the girl know is what he pondered on as he studied her demeanor. And how much of it was to be of concern? He did not respond. He couldn’t. Any further information given with any chosen answer would unnecessarily complicate things. Glesni Carrow was a nosy thing. He firmly believed that nothing she did was of any genuine malice but merely a presentation of a robust teenage attitude. Still, he wouldn’t be tricked into feeding the unhealthy habit of growing up too fast.
“If that would be all, miss Carrow, I’d like to return to my obligations. If you don’t mind.”
For the first time since it was fixated on the desk ahead of her, Glesni’s gaze aimed directly at Virgil. “I do mind it,” she quickly responded before she was even aware of her heightened tone. “I do mind that you are not being honest with me!” She paused. What was she even expecting to happen? He most certainly would not elaborate on the problem further with a student, so why was she still insisting? Virgil waited while she adjusted her thoughts, lowering her voice. He had found that allowing them a moment to really think about how their message was getting across made for a lot more long-term progress. And so he did just that. It was reasonably comfortable with miss Carrow. She was already well aware of the repercussions of her behavior.
“Thank you, professor.” Glesni decided on a more straightforward approach. Bashing her head uselessly against the wall, that was the professor Hildegard, did nothing but make her look like a fool. “I appreciate your audience.” He nodded as she rose up. “And,” she continued. “I know that you would not trust me with the details, and while it disappoints me, I accept that. As long as you help him.”
“I am aware of my duties as a professor, miss Carrow. How could I not?” Virgil reassured her with a mild smirk. “I will see you tomorrow in class.”
Not the worst, not the best. That’s how Glesni would have rated the meeting. Stubborn as she was, she still firmly believed that going to miss Rosier first would have been a mistake, regardless of what Ravena had said. Unlike professor Hildegard, she was an unknown, for the most part, except for the fact that they were family. That alone was a significant disadvantage to have. Ravena was smart but deeply affected by that cursed family. She insisted on keeping the ‘good ones’ around, but as time passed, Glesni was even more confident that there was no such thing under their wing. Other than Ravena, she trusted none.
VIRGILIUS HILDEGARD
Location: Hogwarts Castle - Potions Classroom
Time of day: Monday; late morning
Interactions:
Caleb O'Neill - @DayDreamer
The first hour with the fresh sixth-year students went about as well as expected. Still, even though he would love for everyone to follow quite as well, the harsh truth was that not everyone was cut out for potion-making. Luckily there was only one slightly profound side effect to a bad brew chant this time; a small setback quickly fixed on hand. Well. It was an art on its own to pull that off if he was to be completely honest. Everlasting elixirs were not the easiest to fix, and the way it went, it felt that merely teaching the proper way on paper may take time for some. But that was quite alright. If Virgil had anything to spare, it was time.
Punctual as always, Virgil broke the silence in the classroom precisely one hour after it had begun. “Ladies and gentlemen, that would be all for today.” Groans, as well as excitement, sounded here and there in the classroom. Some just could not be helped. “Please leave your work notes on my desk, and I will see you next week. You will have a list of required items for your next class by the end of the week. Thank you.”
He proceeded to write down notes on his own in admirably accurate and tidy cursives as the pile of notes grew in front of him. He hadn’t interrupted his business at any moment as he greeted the students that were leaving. One by one, until the final student approached, laying his notes on the pile. The writing stopped as chartreuse-colored eyes drifted over the small broom scribbled to the side, with a few additional notes underneath. Quite soon did it become apparent to the professor that the boy will continue to treat him with some fascinating ideas every once in a while. Additional read was always a treat, and having encountered it now as well, gave him a good sign.
“Mister O’Neill,” he called out to the boy that was just about to get on with his day. “I’d like to have a word with you. If you can spare a few moments.” It was almost sure that Caleb O’Neill would not say no. Still, the common courtesy seemed to be getting lost quite a bit these days, and it seemed to be a dying practice Virgil would like to keep alive.
“I will take only a fraction of your time,” the professor clarified, looking up at the boy.
He saw it at the moment Caleb O’Neill walked into the classroom, and now he knew what to expect. The aftermath of the accident was something miss Carrow failed to mention. Now that he was aware of it, he could have seen how it could upset the girl — anyone, for that matter.
“Ah,” he said as enthusiastically as is to be expected from a man of highlighted formal demeanor. “I see you have decided on a new haircut.” He studied a head full of hair where there once was a neat short cut. “Quite the surprise, I have to admit. I did not take you for a person that likes to hide.” It was a well-measured opening to a conversation he could only imagine was an uncomfortable one. He did not take the boy for an idiot but clarifying his priorities through such an approach usually made the easier build up. If anything, he wished to help.
Location: Hogwarts Castle - Potion Master's Office
Time of day: Sunday morning
Interactions:
Ravena Fawley - NPC
Virgilius Hildegard - Own Character
Mentions:
Caleb O'Neill - @DayDreamer
She delayed it before breakfast for later. Then, ‘later’ came, and she was still delaying the inevitable. It wasn’t like Glesni to chicken out of something she had set her mind on. But this wasn’t just anything, and no matter how she’d flip it, there wasn’t an easy way in and out of it.
“Talk to her. Trust me.”
She insisted so many times that it was now embedded in Glesni’s head.
“Talk. To. Her.” The paper insisted again. And again.
No.
Hours after Glesni finally compromised with “I’ll think about it,” the paper bled through for the first time that morning.
“And?”
She stared at Barch, flapping his wings a few times, making himself comfortable in his spacious cage.
“And,” she wrote. “I’ve got a better idea.”
It was minutes ago, and Ravena had nothing else to say. And even if she did, the notebook was stored, and Glesni was already out, heading down the dungeon’s hallway. In front of a massive, old, wooden door, she hesitated again, but just for a moment.
Where to start? Well. How about a…
***
Knock, knock, knock.
Three times against the door. Confident. Nothing to connect her presence with the knot inside her stomach, and yet, somehow, it felt obvious.
“Yes? Come in,” the voice offered immediately after. Inhaling deeply once more, Glesni pushed the handle and entered into a spacious room. She wasn’t there to see how professor Hildegard indeed did wonders to the place. To her, it was the office with a confusing, if a slightly over-the-top way of entry. Somehow, it reached all the crucial points in the castle, so professor Hildegard was never late. But no matter which door you’d pass through to the Potion Master’s office, you would still end up entering at the same spot.
“Good morning, Professor,” she greeted with a confident stance and a proud smirk. The usual. Virgil offered her a quick glance of recognition over his glasses and a nod. “Miss Carrow! What a lovely surprise. Good morning.” The sound of the vials clanking as he proceeded to re-arrange them on the high shelf felt calming. Nothing about the man ever made any ruckus - not even the noise of the annual cleanup. She waited as he double-checked the list in his hand and nodded in approval. “My apologies, miss Carrow,” He addressed her again, descending the ladder while a few exhausted vials floated down after him. “Please, have a seat.” And not a moment too soon.
“Thank you.” Making sure not to rush towards the armchair desperately, Glesni still added as much haste to her step as possible. Once sat, she exhaled with relief. There was something about the armchairs she found comforting and safe. Perhaps it was a way they prevented fidgeting and side glances that gave a needed confidence boost. You could not maybe be a coward in an armchair. You either obviously were, or obviously weren’t. Regardless of the knot, Glesni liked to believe she obviously wasn’t.
The last vial was carefully levitated down into the box. A measured-out pair of steps passed the armchair on their way to the opposite side of a large desk. Professor Hildegard sat, adjusting his seat. “Should I assume this is about your re-applying to the Advanced Class?” He asked casually enough for Glesni to respond with a perplexed look on her face.
“I… will be re-applying, but that’s not the reason why-”
She stopped once she had realized. It was an opening, not a distraction. Studying her face briefly, Virgil leaned back into his chair, placing hands in his lap.
“How may I be of assistance, miss Carrow?”
Professor Hildegard’s direct approach was something she much appreciated. It had allowed her to be just as straightforward, and being brief meant getting it over with sooner.
“Have you managed to talk to O’Neill yet?”
“I am afraid not. Should’ve I?” Virgil asked with genuine curiosity.
“Well,” Glesni lowered her gaze down at the table as she responded. “I think he might be in trouble… Or was in one. At least.” Virgil processed her response and nodded at the end of it. “I see. And why is this any different than all other troubles mister O’Neill was, is, and will be a part of?”
“This one is serious.” And perhaps it was intended to shock him right then and there. Nevertheless, instead of prying further into it, Virgil stared at the girl with an extensive lack of amusement as if he was just told that the sky is blue. Shocker. “Miss Carrow,” he encouraged further, leaning forward against the table. “There are only a few reasons I can think of for a student to come to visit me on Sunday morning, and even fewer reasons for you to do so. Less than that, if we consider it is about Caleb O’Neill.” He paused, letting it sink in. “So yes, I am aware that the issue at hand is serious; otherwise, you would not be here at this moment.” She exhaled. A tell-tale sign that Glesni Carrow was cornered and ready to talk.
“O’Neill got caught in a fire. The fire,” she emphasized and watched as Virgil’s face lowered in an inquisitorial frown. Glesni was aware it may be everything of a reaction she would get from a man, but it was enough to encourage her to keep going. “The reason why you haven’t seen him yet is that he took a hit, and he is hiding. Only a few of us had seen it so far. I think. Still, he only has until tomorrow before it inevitably goes out in front of everyone else.” The good part of it all was that he could connect the previously known information to the face. The bad part was the most evident one; he was a Hogwarts student, and fellow students talked.
“And if it does…” Glesni proceeded when Virgil said nothing.
“It inevitably will,” professor Hildegard cut through the current and all the other ‘ifs’ to follow. Pieces were stacked neatly in his mind, and while they did, Glesni grew gradually impatient with his silence. He didn’t miss out on the fact that that was the case. He never did anything to point it out either. “Thank you, miss Carrow,” he spoke up after a while. “I will make sure I speak to mister O’Neill. If that is what would make you feel better.” Aware of the girl’s cheeks turning a barely visible shade of pink, Virgil played out the obliviousness, patiently waiting. Unexpectedly, Glesni missed out on the opportunity to elaborate on it. Instead, she brought the subject straight back to the matter at hand, staring down with a frown, somewhere between the concern and the anger.
“They will come for him. Won’t they?” Glesni asked crudely. “They always come for them.”
Silence and another glance over the glasses were threatening to throw her right into suspension. Her impatience was building up towards its cap. Yet, the professor seemed to be in no rush at all. Just how much did the girl know is what he pondered on as he studied her demeanor. And how much of it was to be of concern? He did not respond. He couldn’t. Any further information given with any chosen answer would unnecessarily complicate things. Glesni Carrow was a nosy thing. He firmly believed that nothing she did was of any genuine malice but merely a presentation of a robust teenage attitude. Still, he wouldn’t be tricked into feeding the unhealthy habit of growing up too fast.
“If that would be all, miss Carrow, I’d like to return to my obligations. If you don’t mind.”
For the first time since it was fixated on the desk ahead of her, Glesni’s gaze aimed directly at Virgil. “I do mind it,” she quickly responded before she was even aware of her heightened tone. “I do mind that you are not being honest with me!” She paused. What was she even expecting to happen? He most certainly would not elaborate on the problem further with a student, so why was she still insisting? Virgil waited while she adjusted her thoughts, lowering her voice. He had found that allowing them a moment to really think about how their message was getting across made for a lot more long-term progress. And so he did just that. It was reasonably comfortable with miss Carrow. She was already well aware of the repercussions of her behavior.
“Thank you, professor.” Glesni decided on a more straightforward approach. Bashing her head uselessly against the wall, that was the professor Hildegard, did nothing but make her look like a fool. “I appreciate your audience.” He nodded as she rose up. “And,” she continued. “I know that you would not trust me with the details, and while it disappoints me, I accept that. As long as you help him.”
“I am aware of my duties as a professor, miss Carrow. How could I not?” Virgil reassured her with a mild smirk. “I will see you tomorrow in class.”
Not the worst, not the best. That’s how Glesni would have rated the meeting. Stubborn as she was, she still firmly believed that going to miss Rosier first would have been a mistake, regardless of what Ravena had said. Unlike professor Hildegard, she was an unknown, for the most part, except for the fact that they were family. That alone was a significant disadvantage to have. Ravena was smart but deeply affected by that cursed family. She insisted on keeping the ‘good ones’ around, but as time passed, Glesni was even more confident that there was no such thing under their wing. Other than Ravena, she trusted none.
VIRGILIUS HILDEGARD
Location: Hogwarts Castle - Potions Classroom
Time of day: Monday; late morning
Interactions:
Caleb O'Neill - @DayDreamer
The first hour with the fresh sixth-year students went about as well as expected. Still, even though he would love for everyone to follow quite as well, the harsh truth was that not everyone was cut out for potion-making. Luckily there was only one slightly profound side effect to a bad brew chant this time; a small setback quickly fixed on hand. Well. It was an art on its own to pull that off if he was to be completely honest. Everlasting elixirs were not the easiest to fix, and the way it went, it felt that merely teaching the proper way on paper may take time for some. But that was quite alright. If Virgil had anything to spare, it was time.
Punctual as always, Virgil broke the silence in the classroom precisely one hour after it had begun. “Ladies and gentlemen, that would be all for today.” Groans, as well as excitement, sounded here and there in the classroom. Some just could not be helped. “Please leave your work notes on my desk, and I will see you next week. You will have a list of required items for your next class by the end of the week. Thank you.”
He proceeded to write down notes on his own in admirably accurate and tidy cursives as the pile of notes grew in front of him. He hadn’t interrupted his business at any moment as he greeted the students that were leaving. One by one, until the final student approached, laying his notes on the pile. The writing stopped as chartreuse-colored eyes drifted over the small broom scribbled to the side, with a few additional notes underneath. Quite soon did it become apparent to the professor that the boy will continue to treat him with some fascinating ideas every once in a while. Additional read was always a treat, and having encountered it now as well, gave him a good sign.
“Mister O’Neill,” he called out to the boy that was just about to get on with his day. “I’d like to have a word with you. If you can spare a few moments.” It was almost sure that Caleb O’Neill would not say no. Still, the common courtesy seemed to be getting lost quite a bit these days, and it seemed to be a dying practice Virgil would like to keep alive.
“I will take only a fraction of your time,” the professor clarified, looking up at the boy.
He saw it at the moment Caleb O’Neill walked into the classroom, and now he knew what to expect. The aftermath of the accident was something miss Carrow failed to mention. Now that he was aware of it, he could have seen how it could upset the girl — anyone, for that matter.
“Ah,” he said as enthusiastically as is to be expected from a man of highlighted formal demeanor. “I see you have decided on a new haircut.” He studied a head full of hair where there once was a neat short cut. “Quite the surprise, I have to admit. I did not take you for a person that likes to hide.” It was a well-measured opening to a conversation he could only imagine was an uncomfortable one. He did not take the boy for an idiot but clarifying his priorities through such an approach usually made the easier build up. If anything, he wished to help.