Dance With the Devil (Hoggy RP)

[Ritual Lobotomy]

BRANOK CARROW

Cool air tumbled dead leaves around the courtyard, unbothered in their flight through the autumn evening, until a pair of well-polished, expensive gentleman's shoes disturbed the gust, kicking them into random swirls around the figure. A busy day of running errands was coming to a close for Branok Carrow, and by the end of his business, he was looking forward to leaving that damned castle behind. Everyone within its walls seemed to have lost bits of their mind along the way, which wouldn't even remotely be his issue had it not been for his blood being tainted by madness within those walls, a clever play on Ravena's part that cost him more nerves than he was willing to spare.

After a rather unfortunate development of events involving young Rosier, a conversation with his spawn did not yield much positive either. Nevertheless, by the time he crossed the Viaduct, a plan for both had developed in his mind, effectively putting him at ease, at least for the time being. Branok never left much to chance - if anything - if he could help it. His daughter's teenage rebellion could still be handled. Ravena needed a bit of a reminder of her place, but that could wait another time. A more pressing issue was the one of Adelaide Rosier and her alleged little adventure with the last man he wanted to have to deal with.

No matter. It was only a detour. Nothing more.

Soon enough, the fresh air was replaced by a stagnant one with a subtle humidity coursing through. Carrow despised old places like that. No matter how much effor was put into maintenance, the smell of rot and decay could not have been eradicated. Granted, he was notably biased in his dislike towards Hogwarts. At that time, halls were almost eerily empty. A small mercy that graced his visit, albeit making it all the more boring.

@DayDreamer - Caleb O'Neill

 

[DayDreamer]

After a bumpy start in his Quidditch season, to put it mildly, Caleb had finally been able to get a hold of himself and his new broom. The Siberian arrow that now rested across his shoulders for some much needed extra stretch of his arms, was much more sensitive to his handling than the school brooms ever were. This had been a learning curve for him and the broomstick itself but he could confidently say that he was now cooperating with it almost fully. The fact Glesni had been so frustrated with him during their last friendly game was proof enough in his mind.

The protective goggles had been a huge help as well and were now hanging from his neck whenever the Gryffindor was expected to do any sort of physical activity that involved air currents faster than jog speed. His eye would protest if he ever forgot to put them on. He was still annoyed by the fact his left eye vision was limited and that meant he had a harder time spear pointing any attacks with his co-Chasers, but this day's practise had gone much better ever before.

His Quidditch robes fluttered behind him in the wind as he strolled through the bridge, happily humming to himself. He paused briefly as he saw a man coming from the other side and briefly switched to standing sideways so the man could bypass him without hitting his head on the sharp point of the Siberian Arrow handle. He recognized the man as Branok Carrow. A bigshot of the Ministry and someone Caleb didn't particularly care about except for the fact he was Glesni's father. That's all he knew and that was all that he would ever bother to know, probably. He had never considered a career at the Ministry so the chances of having to interact with him in any capacity was non-existent.

Still, Caleb nodded in acknowledgement as he patiently waited for the man to bypass him.

@Ritual Lobotomy time to get this show on the road XD

 

[Ritual Lobotomy]

BRANOK CARROW

The man did not bother contemplating hastened steps approaching from the opposite direction. As customary, he stepped further to the right so whoever came his way had no reason not to keep their distance. However, one thing Branok did not count on was that the student appearing on the bridge was much larger than he had anticipated. Slowing his pace, Carrow began to study the incoming figure and all of the knick-knacks hanging from its sides. Unmistakeably, it was Quidditch equipment, topped off with a broom that swayed lightly as the boy marched forward.

Allowing the boy enough time to notice him approaching, Branok resumed his original pace, expecting that the students here were proper enough to know when to move aside. Surprisingly, the boy had done so. And much sooner than anticipated, leaving him a comfortable opening to pass. Without much hesitation, Branok straightened up his suit and headed past the male, returning his courtesy with an unreadable glance and a slight nod. A brief acknowledgment of the student gave the man enough information to slow down just as he made a short distance between them.

Gryffindor's robes, Quidditch equipment, unmistakable competitive confidence in his father's gaze, and notable scarring across his face. There was no mistake to be made. Ultimately, Branok's hesitant movement stopped completely. He turned around, focusing on the boy walking away. After a brief moment of silent contemplation, a calm, even tone called out to the Gryffindor.

"Excuse me, young man. May I have a word?" By the end, a well-rehearsed warmth replaced the officialness in his voice. "Pardon my intrusion, but I could not help but not notice that-"

Hideous scar.

"-wonderful broom," he mused, supporting his chin in thought. "I don't recall seeing many of those around. An interesting choice," he smirked with a genuine-like wonder in his gaze. "Do you mind if I take a closer look?"

 

[DayDreamer]

Caleb had not expected to interact with the man beyond the acknowledgement of eachother's presence. He had continued on his way until he was asked to stop. His humming paused into a "Hm?" as he turned to face Branok freaking Carrow, who wanted to.... have a look at his Siberian Arrow?

"Oh yes, I find the Siberian Arrow response time to be much better at evading Bludgers than a Nimbus." He responded to the rarity of his broomstick as he swung it off his shoulder with ease, resting it on the ground with the handle extended towards Branok so he could have a better look. "Of course, they only make them in the Continent so it is a bit more difficult to get them imported. Not to mention Nimbus has a bigger market purely because of patriotic reasons..." He trailed off, clearly getting carried away by a topic near and dear to his heart.

"I managed to get this one over the summer!" He added as the engraved golden autograph of the famous Olaf Andersen glistened on the handle. He offered the man the chance to handle the broom if he so wished. He was clearly bery proud of his new broom.

 

[Ritual Lobotomy]

BRANOK CARROW

"Oh yes, I find the Siberian Arrow response time to be much better at evading Bludgers than a Nimbus," the boy responded as if he was only waiting for someone to ask. Quidditch. Branok never cared nor understood the point of it. And when his daughter showed interest in such a pointless waste of time, he tried almost everything to turn her interest the other way. But, teens being teens, he would have had better luck persuading a wall. And yet, he found that the most trivial knowledge could yield the best results. So, he learned.

"Ah, I see," Branok chuckled as he observed the Siberian Arrow making its way smoothly off the boy's shoulder and onto the ground. "I am speaking to a chaser, then. Wonderful. I'd say my favorite to observe on the field."

He gladly accepted the boy's generosity, laying his hands on the intricate broom and studying it attentively as he nodded his head along with Gryffindor's explanation.

"Not to mention Nimbus has a bigger market purely because of patriotic reasons..."

The cue.

Acknowledging the statement, Branok looked back at him, responding with amused laughter. "I could not have said it better myself. Imagine my pride when my daughter decided to look past the Numbus as well. I was more than happy to make any other broom happen," he pushed the conversation forward briefly, expressing his interest in hearing more. "It is exquisite. Congratulations on obtaining it. Quite impressive for a young fellow your age. It must not have been the easiest of tasks."

Giving the broom another thoughtful check, he returned it to Gryffindor with a satisfied smirk. "Thank you for sharing, mister-," he squinted, waving his finger in question as he fixated his gaze on the boy. "Now, this may be slightly intrusive of me, but I must know. As I look at you," he spoke slowly, observing inquisitorially. "You remind me of someone I know," he mumbled, deep in thought over the name that seemingly continued to escape him.

"Do you perhaps have more Quidditch players in your family?"

 

[DayDreamer]

"Yes, the Thunderbolt! Glesni is quite troublesome on the Pitch with it." Caleb agreed as his broomstick was returned to him. He nodded as Branok suspected it had not been easy to get his hands on such a broomstick. "Three years." Caled informed him and he had a happy glint in his eyes, even though there was a certain air of confusion. He had not expected the minister to be interested in Quidditch and broomsticks. Past a certain level of magical abilities, wizardfolk rarely bothered with brooms on a daily basis. Apparition was much handier whenever possible. Less likely to break the Statute of Secrecy too.

"Thank you for sharing, mister-," The fact he hesitated to call him by his name increased Caleb's awkwardness. He was unsure if he was trying to pretend he did not know of his case to be polite or if he really didn't know who he was. "O'Neil." He responded on instinct whenever introductions were in order. "Caleb O'Neil" The question that followed had Caleb visibly tense up and raise his walls. Not this again! The fact of the matter is, he couldn't really lie. He was terrible at it and by this point in time, his existence was less of a rumour and more of a truth in high wizarding society. Since his mother's death and his move into his dad's house it was hard to hide his existence. That didn't mean he was allowed to advertise who he was and, of course, any participation in high society was strictly forbidden.

"Yes Sir." He responded to Branok's question but did not elaborate further. He knew it would not be hard to put two and two together, but the fact he had not explicitly said it, would help him win the argument with any future Howlers coming his way.

 

[Ritual Lobotomy]

BRANOK CARROW

The boy's reluctant and scarce response revealed more than he had seemed to understand. Branok nodded sympathetically, waving off any obligation to elaborate with a swift movement of his slender hand.

"Say no more," he smirked cordially. In truth, he never comprehended O'Neill's intent of trying to sweep his spawn under the rug like a ball of lint. He found that the boy could have been much more useful if socially engaged with his family's connections. Otherwise, it was a sad waste of good genes. Even if tainted. "I am no stranger to complicated family matters, Mister O'Neill."

Whether Patrick liked it or not, the boy was now a part of his reality, and plainly so, given his recent antics. Branok made sure to point it out to the man. Whatever Patrick made of it was none of Branok's concern. And whatever Branok chose to do with the information did not require permission from O'Neill senior.

"I have no intention of prying further other than to say that I am familiar with your father's achievements on the broom, and I look forward to hearing how you have surpassed him. It is on the young to carry the burden of besting those that came before and on the old to accept that their time has passed," he concluded with a chuckle, addressing the boy's familial connections as if they were the most natural thing to discuss.

"Well, it is an honor to meet you, Caleb O'Neill," Branok courtesied with a hand laid across his chest. "Branok Carrow. I am sure you're already aware, but it is only appropriate that I introduce myself personally as well."

Sensing the stir in the boy's openness, Branok backtracked strategically, leading the conversation away from the triggered topic. "Of course, I am well aware of your reputation, Mister O'Neill, but I am not the one for using hearsay to form opinions. Especially not the ones detrimental to a young man such as yourself. Instead, consider this little introduction of ours my first impression of you. Now," he stirred in his spot, reaching out for an intricate pocket watch nestled on the inside of his custom-tailored suit, "I best be leaving you to your training as I must be going as well, unfortunately," he spoke apologetically, placing the watch back into its designated pocket. "But I am looking forward to resuming our Quidditch conversation sometime down the road. Perhaps at the Christmas gathering?" he laid out an open invitation wrapped in a casual mention of the event, observing the boy over the tip of his glasses.

"Surely you are attending? Unless, of course, you have other plans." Another more evident welcome was laid out in front of Caleb. "But do consider coming. The more the merrier," Branok concluded on an upbeat note, nodding in greeting.

"Have a wonderful evening, Mister O'Neill."

 

[DayDreamer]

Caleb was very thankful when Branok did not push the topic further and gave him an awkward laugh of 'will try' when his "duty" of surpassing his father on the Pitch was mentioned. He was planning on doing his best as a player of course, but he was not hopeful about his chances of being scouted by a League Team after this whole summer debacle. His plan was to make a name for himself with his brooms, but nobody except his close friends knew about his plan.

"Honor's mine, Sir." He was quick to respond with a nod of his own. He was not used to the more formal greetings of high society but that didn't mean his manners were non-existent. The invite to the annual Christmas gathering was just a formality to conclude their little interaction on a positive note, he assumed. For the last three years, he had been living with his father but was always kept away from the public eye. Any family attending at gatherings, be it in their own house or at another's, specifically and explicitly excluded him. So to receive a personal reminder about the event from the host himself was both refreshing and troubling.

"I'll think about it, sir." Though it was obvious he seemed to have his mind made already. "Have a good evening yourself." He wished the man as he resumed his walk back to the Castle, his mind mulling over the interaction he just had. It had been weird to have such a casual interaction with an official. Granted his experience with meeting officials was only to the capacity of his visits at St. Mungos and the interrogations that followed after. Not the best experience for a teen to have.

As he entered the Viaduct courtyard, he spotted a familiar figure. "Hey Princess!" He called out to her with a confident smirk. "Better bring your A+ game next training or you won't hit me." He wanted to give her the heads up. He was no longer awkwardly working out the kinks of his new broom, nor was he suffering from his eye being exposed to the wind. He only had his blind side to deal with and that would take a bit of time. Glesni didn't need to know about that little weakness of his. What she didn't know, didn't hurt him.

 

[Ritual Lobotomy]

GLESNI CARROW

A gust of wind made Slytherin shiver in her boots, but she found it more rejuvenating than uncomfortable. Once her father disappeared into the seemingly neverending Viaduct corridor that slowly descended into evening fog, Glesni transferred her full weight against the wall that bordered the courtyard. She breathed in deep as her heart thumped in her chest, sending waves of weakness from her core to the tips of her fingers that grasped at the chill dead stone. The invitations for the holiday event have been sent, and she was expected to be on her best behavior. What was the favorite time of the year for many of her peers and beyond was the time Glesni wished she could sleep through. The false harmony, glamour, and people she'd rather have nothing to do with but was expected to entertain. There was hardly anything to look forward to except that, once it starts, it will inevitably end.

Anxiety was difficult to shake off when the thoughts of her father's requests were fresh and swarming in her mind. Slowly, it crept up on her and grew in her chest as a boiling mixture of panic and anger. Why the bloody hell would they not leave her be? An ordinary teenager, a teenager she could be with Ravena or within the walls of Hogwarts Castle. There was no way around it if she was to keep all other of her arrangements undisturbed.

Helpless and alone.

"Hey Princess!"

A familiar voice startled her back to the present, briefly throwing her off. "Wh-what," she mumbled through confusion, instinctively lifting her walls and pulling her coat upwards to create a barrier towards Gryffindor. The initial shock slowly turned into typical competitive annoyance that carried her confidence back to her.

"Better bring your A+ game next training or you won't hit me," O'Neill proceeded smugly. Glesni observed him as he approached, stupid confidence plastered across his face that she wished she could swipe and erase, but at the same time, it inexplicably offered comfort she desperately needed. But she would be damned before he knew of it.

"Oh?" she responded, greeting him with the overplayed stand-offish stance he likely came to expect. "See, you keep saying that, and I am starting to think that you simply don't have your money where your mouth is," she chuckled, cocking her eyebrow at the image of his dorky goggles and his casual demeanor.

"But I can't say I am not curious. What do you have up your sleeve now, O'Neill? Humor me."

 

[DayDreamer]

He seemed to have caught her off-guard. A rare occasion he was not used from her. Something seemed to have bothered her and it was probably his smug warning. She had told him so on multiple instances and in various ways, some of which included the use of her wand. Still, the moment did not last long and she challenged him to prove her wrong, as he had been failing to do so for a while whenever they were in the Pitch.

"Well first of all, I'm no longer on an ancient Moontrimmer. Me and Arrow over here," He patted the broomstick on his shoulders gently. "Have kissed and made up." This was one of his limiting factors during his previous seasons as well as this year up until this point. You could be talented but, for Quidditch, the kind of equipment you used could make or break your performance.

"And second of all, I have a pair of flight working eyes now." He pointed at his goggles and then at his eyes. While he was still having his low days, he had become more comfortable with his scar. The lessons from Professor Rosier and the support he had been receiving from his friends, Professor Hildegard and Mr. Brightfeather had been paying off. The pain had still been present, but it was mostly during his bad days. Of course, people still talked behind his back, a few had tried to give him shit to his face, but they had been quickly shut down by his friends and later, himself. He was more actively living his own life again and it showed.

"Are you ok, Glesni? It seemed like I interrupted something. I can leave you alone if you want?" He asked gently, his smugness leaving his face. He was not the best at tiptoeing around people, but he also didn't want to push her. Last thing he wanted was for hexes to start flying. "I can't be accused of throwing the opponent off balance, now can I?" He jested, but there was genuine interest in his voice.

 

[Ritual Lobotomy]

GLESNI CARROW

The way O'Neill affectionately referred to his broom lured out a shy smirk onto her lips. She glanced at the broom and gave it a dignified nod. It genuinely pleased her to see how he had carried himself with pride with the Arrow this time. She was having her doubts.

"Well, what can I say? Congratulations to the happy couple," she teased.

"And second of all, I have a pair of flight working eyes now." She nodded again, crossing her arms with interest as Gryffindor proceeded to show off his new equipment. His energy resonated with something deep within her chest. Happiness. A warm feeling of relief that he seemed to be finding his way out of the hole life had thrown him in. O'Neill's prowess was inspiring.

"Ah," Glesni nodded, cocking her eyebrow. "So you want to play it like that, huh? Alright," she chuckled somewhat awkwardly at her filler comment as her thoughts ran miles away from the conversation into the dark corner of her mind. Instinctively, she knew she was being rude while paying only partial attention to her school colleague. She was being rude when, for once, she wasn't trying to be so. He didn't deserve all the hard time she gave him in the first place. He didn't.

A sudden urge to apologize right that moment without a valid reason caught her off guard. In compensation, her idle green orbs dropped for what seemed like an eternity, although it could only have been for the moment.

"You are a horrible person."

Stop it.

"Your father's daughter, no matter how you look at it."

STOP!

"Give in, or suffer alone."

"Are you ok, Glesni?"

Oh, shit...

Caleb's voice resonated in her ears, and the cloud of thoughts dispersed, leaving her bare against the cold autumn evening. In front of Caleb O'Neill, no less.

"I- uh," she spoke up with a shake in her voice, falling silent right after as the heavy lump formed in her chest and climbed up her throat. With each push, it stubbornly climbed even further.

"It seemed like I interrupted something. I can leave you alone if you want?"

Don't.

The thought came as a surprise, but even after acknowledging it, there was no denying that it was indeed the creation of her head. The heaviness stuck stubbornly to her entire being, dangerously creeping up like a hot wave now threatening to break through. She cleared her throat, pretending to deliberately observe the ground as the most persistent tears of them all found their way down Slytherin's clenched jaw. The fact that Gryffindor seemed genuinely concerned made her weakness somehow worse, and she just wished to be able to hurt him at that very moment so he would stop staring at her with his stupid sympathy and his stupid concern. Why? Why couldn't he just stay the fuck away? He should've because she didn't manage to keep out of it.

Glesni breathed in, somewhat placing her restless, shallow inhales under enough control to evoke a response.

"I can't be accused of throwing the opponent off balance, now can I?"

Slytherin chuckled lightly in return. Exasperatedly, she let out an exhausted-sounding groan and rubbed her face, voice muffled against her palms. "Don't count on it, you idiot." Deciding she was finally ready to lift her head, she did so swiftly and proudly, meeting Caleb with a smirk. "Just a long day. Wouldn't get used to it if I were you. But, please. Don't let me distract you from whatever you are here for. If anything, I can leave if you weren't looking for an audience."

 

[DayDreamer]

She had cracked. The infamous Carrow with the heart of ice was trying to control herself, but whatever it was that Caleb had walked into or triggered was choking her. When she finally felt put together enough to face him again, he gently took the broom of his shoulders, choosing a more casual hanging grip. "I was just passing through. I was coming from the field planning to go back to the Common Room when I ran into your old man." His voice was tentative when he mentioned her father. She was crying right after he had met her father on the way out. Complicated family. The words echoed in his mind and, despite his better judgement, he reached out to gently pat her shoulder.

"So, I changed my mind. I think you should join me to the one place that makes those days, a bit brighter." He suggested and, with his hand still on the side of her arm, gently nudged her to follow him back inside the castle. Away from the cold and all that it brought with it.

 

[Ritual Lobotomy]

GLESNI CARROW

"Oh no," Glesni thought, feeling the anxiety rising at the sight of Caleb's reaction. She had done it now, hadn't she? She gave him relatively strong ammunition to wield by allowing herself to be caught off-guard. She needed to do better. After all the crap she gave him, there was no telling what he would do with that pathetic moment of weakness that never should have happened. But, admittedly, playing into it would have likely only made it worse. So, Glesni maintained her sheer barrier of stubbornness and indifference when it was clear that Gryffindor's approach changed drastically. She wanted to hate him for it. She wished for her walls back in frustration over her stupidity.

"I was just passing through," O'Neill said.

"Okay," Glesni nodded in acknowledgment, finding that her eyes sought to escape downwards again.

"I was coming from the field planning to go back to the Common Room when I ran into your old man." Hearing it wasn't much of a shock when she was already well aware of her father's looming presence in school. Still, her face set into a light frown.

"I see," Slytherin nodded again, absent-mindedly biting her lip as she crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "If he gave you any issues, I apologize." Just a mention brought forth the fresh memory of their conversation that seemed to drop the temperature around her a ridiculous amount. A barely noticeable shiver blew down her spine. But by now, Glesni, the prized possession of the Carrow family, learned many acceptable excuses to serve in his name.

"Rough day in the office, I suppose," she simply stated, the tone of her voice falling flat and mechanic. Once again, she felt herself losing against the abyss of negativity that seeped into her mind when an unexpected touch sent a shock wave through her body, bringing her back out of the chaos. Unsure how to react, Glesni's shoulders scrunched upward almost instantly. The initial instinct was a defensive one. Swat it, yell at him, and leave. Simple enough.

But it wasn't.

Without consciously understanding why, she allowed him the audacity of physical contact, cautiously relaxing under it. Gryffindor's simple, friendly touch felt like a heat wave that instantly perked up her senses and pooled in her cheeks as a pair of subtle blotches of blush. Thankfully, the cold air surrounding them had the same effect she could hide behind, giving her enough confidence not to completely give in to the awkwardness.

"So, I changed my mind," O'Neill stated, and before hearing him till the end, Glesni had already shook her head decisively, glaring at him scoldingly. "What? No. Don't you dare."

"I think you should join me to the one place that makes those days, a bit brighter." He wouldn't allow himself to be dissuaded, but it didn't stop Slytherin from exhaling in frustration. "I appreciate it, O'Neill, but I-" Again, a gentle nudge threw her off her game. "-d-don't want you to go out of your way over this." By the end of the sentence, the tone of her voice lowered, and her feet followed obediently after Caleb. As she moved along with a slight pout adorning her face, Glesni tapped into the final well of toughness that was yet to run dry.

"You really are a special kind of idiot," she concluded without malice in mind, throwing a glance Gryffindor's way before cracking a smirk. "I surely hope I won't regret this," she added in the more familiar, teasing tone that hid a hint of nervousness over how much of the situation could have been used against her. Well, she had survived it before and could do so again. But as they moved along towards the destination only known to the annoying Gryffindor boy next to her, she felt strangely reassured that, in the end, things may just work out.

 

[DayDreamer]

Caleb had to resist the urge of flinching when she excused her father without even knowing how that meeting went. He suddenly felt keenly aware of what her relationship was probably like between her and her father. He felt like deja vu. Only this time, he was Felix and Glesni was himself way back when he would legitimately punch to hurt the lanky housemate of his.

He did a little mental dance to show appreciation to whatever power had allowed him to escape unhexed from touching and guiding Glesni to anywhere or anything. "You really are a special kind of idiot," there was no malice, no teasing intent. Just an observation that he hadn't heard in the longest of times. Ever since his mom had passed away. "Huh?" He was caught off guard but then a fond smile appeared on his face. "I know. Haven't heard it in a while though." He added peacefully as he led them all the way to the corridor the Room of Requirement would always appear for people who needed it.

At this point the ritual was second nature. He paced around thinking of his little Cave of Wonders and a solid oak door appeared on the stone wall. The same door that lead to his grandfather's house back in Kenmare. "Welcome to my Haven. Feel free to ask it for stuff while we are here." He announced as he opened the door to let them in.

It was a peculiar setup that somehow made sense. There was a wood workshop area with broomstick prototypes in various stages of construction neatly arranged on the walls around a large crafts table. A small gym with an indoors parkour area was on the opposite side and then the rest of the space was a blank canvas where a small sitting room appeared with enough room for Caleb's small group of friends to hang out, only this time, an extra spot appeared, meant for Glesni. The last addition to the room was a door that was the exact replica of the door that led to the castle's kitchens.

Caleb walked over to his working station and placed the Arrow on the table, before getting rid of the rest of his gear on the floor next to his favorite armchair.